#Paramedic halsin

[pedros-immaculate-vibes]

DAVE

@goodbiranger OMG

[mongoose-bite]

This isn't that relevant but I just never remember to take screenshots. Paladin moment! And you can see Wyll's lil face in the background if you squint. I anticipate a playthrough where we both have dogshit strength being pretty funny.

Did Faye go party after talking to Halsin? Of course she didn't. My girl will not rest while innocents need saving, and I did just fast travel out without saving that stupid bard...

I don't know what it is with me and names in this game; I saw Volo and was like 'heh, same name as that freak in Soul Calibur' and completely forgot Volo's Guide to Monsters until I saw him again.

The party. Oooh god I was not prepared for the party. Neither was Faye. Laz'ael kinda had dibs, and couldn't be un-dibbed so it was basically a night of awkwardly rejecting people. Excruciating for both of us. Notable exceptions: Wyll, who did not ask. I thought Faye might go for him, but they are a bit too similar. He's basically a brother from another mother and she loves him as such. Halsin, who was very kind but firm when Faye wondered if she could get to know him. okay.jpg

And. Of course. Asterion. Who let her know he was absolutely desperate to fuck, but anyone but her. Ew. Listen, this entire camp is crawling with horny morons, and if you weren't such a sour and condescending gremlin you could have your pick of them, but instead you're having a sneer-off with the one person you can't stand who is going to go and get laid regardless.

I actually kind of love how antagonistic they are, and I'm almost tempted to turn the ship around just to watch him eat. his. words. But I couldn't do that to Faye, who basically regards him like a tired paramedic outside a club at 3am on a Sunday asking again what it is he's taken. Sadly, he's her job.

Anyway. Laz'ael. You don't have to get all dommy to get head, you know? She's a paladin getting on her knees and giving is in her nature. I don't think Faye regrets it, but she finds Laz'ael a bit exhausting in several senses and doesn't want a rematch either, or to talk about it. Asterion probably sensed that. Dick.

I still had this cursed book sitting in my inventory, cause I am the stupid, and had forgotten right click opened an Attack option in the menu and I fruitlessly kept trying to target it with the general attack option. I did eventually work it out.

Now I had noticed Auntie Ethel had the fey creature type, but I thought nothing of it, and Faye, sweetheart that she is, wasn't going to scare some old lady by telling her about the tadpole, so I only headed to the swamp out of a desire to fill in the map before leaving the zone. Also, a friend had informed me I could improve things slightly with Asterion by 'baa-ing' at redcaps, a bizarre piece of advice that made no sense til I got there. Frankly it's the first thing about him that's been remotely charming.

Anyway, we got as far as the door to the hag's lair, and I thought we'd more or less hit an instant boss fight, and I and my companions were so close to level 5. That extra attack was gonna do so much for me. So I turned around and scoured the map for anything that might offer scraps of exp. Took all day. Rested.

Gale offered a magic lesson. Faye had a great time til it all got a bit too serious and she broke it off, getting the sad and lonely reaction, and she's feeling bad about it cause he's hot and smart, and good-hearted. But. It did seem a bit too smooth, and he did also kick things off with a picture of his ex, and then a demonstration of how good said ex makes him feel. If she even is an ex. I'm not cucking a fucking goddess. Faye's wis score is higher than that.

Dyce would love everyone in this party though. He really would. I need to know if an nonocule is possible.

Back to Faye. Rather than face her problems, she decided she'd rather go to a horrible swamp and fight a hag with a guy who deeply dislikes her. It went fine. Overall, by the time we were done in the swamp, Asterion had gone from barely tolerating her to grudgingly tolerating her. As she herself says, 'I've got a long road ahead of me.'

[wehaveimagineshere]

Masterlist

* means NSFW

Modern Warfare 2:

Soap

Headcanons:

Realizing Feelings

Admiring S/O's Photo

Ghost

Headcanons:

Realizing Feelings

Admiring S/O's Photo

Admiring S/O’s Photo Original *Upcoming*

The Little Bunny series m.list

Konig

Headcanons:

Realizing Feelings

Admiring S/O's Photo

Price

Headcanons:

Admiring S/O's Photo

*Virgin S/O

*Virgin S/O Pt. 2 *Upcoming*

Gaz

Headcanons:

Admiring S/O's Photo

Realizing Feelings *Upcoming*

Horangi

Headcannons:

*Virgin S/O

*Virgin S/O Pt. 2 *Upcoming*

Alejandro

Headcannons:

*Virgin S/O

*Virgin S/O Pt. 2 *Upcoming*

Rudolfo

Headcannons:

Realizing Feelings *Upcoming*

Baldur's Gate 3:

Astarion

Headcanons:

Dating

Asexual Reader

Praise Kink *Upcoming*

Scenarios:

One Bed

I'll Be Your Mirror

Night After Cazador

Collab:

Passing With You

Halsin

Headcanons:

Dating

Asexual Reader

Praise Kink *Upcoming*

Scenarios:

*Shirtless

*For Us (Gale poly) *Upcoming*

Wyll

Headcanons:

Dating

Praise Kink *Upcoming*

Scenarios:

One Bed

Gale

Headcanons:

Dating

Asexual Reader

Praise Kink *Upcoming*

Scenarios:

Half Naked

*"We'll Talk About This. Later."

*To Dine

*Shirtless

*For Us (Halsin poly) *Upcoming*

Zevlor

Scenarios:

Little Crush *Upcoming*

Resident Evil:

Carlos Oliveira

Scenarios:

Your Pillar in Anxiety

Comfort After a Nightmare

Bedtime Dancing

Girl Dad

Domestic Fluff

Microbiologist Reader

Girl Dad 2.0

*Breaking in the Bed

Can't Sleep

*?Nice Tits *Upcoming*

Wesker's Favorite Niece *Upcoming*

Hospital Bed *Upcoming*

Dad Girl 3.0 With Brother Leon *Upcoming*

Paramedic Carlos *Upcoming*

*Mechanic Carlos *Upcoming*

Beautiful Hair *Upcoming*

Leon Kennedy

Scenarios:

Bar Catch Up

Luis Serra

Scenarios:

Knock at Your Door

Detroit: Become Human:

Connor

Scenarios:

Updog

[pedros-immaculate-vibes]

Smoke and Mirrors 1

A BG3 AU, fluff and tension with Professor Dekarios, Paramedic Halsin, and you as the injured TA

HAPPY BDAY @general-dweebous

“And now,” began the professor, “let us sort the chaff from the grain. Best of luck,” he continued, handing out exam packets as you followed and handed out answer booklets and multiple choice slips. “I have full confidence that most of you will do quite well and plenty of you will have wished you’d attended most lectures.” He froze, mid-step, and adjusted his spectacles; peering over them, the answer key on one student’s forearm became quite visible. “Matilda, may I see you in my office?” Readjusting his glasses along the bridge of his nose, he resumed climbing the stairs and dispersing packets. “The first packet will involve multiple choice, the last will require you to use those magnificent minds that I’ve helped mold since the close of summer. And,” he paused and lifted a finger into the air, “the larger the word and more difficult to pronounce, the better,” he resumed his ascension, “I may even add points on poetic flourish.”

An acne-ridden scowl darkened one student’s face. His hand shot up, “But, Professor Dekarios, this is a history course. Why does how we express it matter as long as it’s right?”

Gale continued disseminating papers, “AH! Because your voice is who you are! It is your essence splayed out with ink and paper. It is what,” a lick of his thumb as he separated the packets, “separates you from every other person in this room. And if I see some creative individuality,” he eyed the student over his glasses once more, taking in his very basic aesthetic, “I like to reward it.”

You stifled a chuckle as he carried on, describing what else would be on the midterm. Thank the gods I decided to wear these flats, was your main thought at the moment. You’d wanted to wear something a bit more—what was a good word— “eye-catching” to go with your flowing skirt, but reasonable Toms would have to do. The class was held in a large auditorium with a long flight of stairs separating three columns of chairs; while you didn’t appreciate the amount of walking necessary to make sure everyone participated honestly, you did find a hint of joy in the way the professor’s voice seemed to reflect off of the walls. 

The room was an amphitheater and Professor Dekarios was its orator, keeping you enrapt in his eloquence for four semesters, now. As quick-witted as he was, however, he seemed to be oblivious to any notice of yours. While he did appreciate you bringing him a mug of black tea whenever you fetched a coffee for yourself, or the time you had made chocolate chip cookies to sate any hints of hunger during a grading session in his office, he seemed unaware of your subtle advances. 

If he hadn’t been a coworker who’s company you enjoyed so much or if you didn’t finally have a position in your first-choice college’s administration, you may have more overtly tested the waters and seen where it took the two of you.

Fortunately (or unfortunately), both were the case and for now you were content with merely sharing thoughts and time with him. 

“Meg, my dear,” your eyes shot up to his, a few loose strands framing his face, “I was hoping to be in my office, reviewing a few historical findings Professor Elminster sent me last night. Think you can handle keeping the hopeful masses in check?”

You looked around at the expanse of a room, hearing the groans and low chatter of the dozens of disgruntled students. They were prepared for their doom.

“You can say no,” he added, tilting his head as you looked back at him.

He’s literally giving me puppy eyes right now, how the fuck do I say no to that.

“Psh, I’ll be fine. No shenanigans’ll happen on my watch,” you feigned a salute that extracted a chuckle from the professor. 

“Well, in that case, I’ll owe you. Maybe I can pay you back with a coffee while we grade these later,” he added, looking away to clear his throat. 

“Sure! Gods know we’re going to need something to keep us awake.” You had leaned in toward him, conspiratorially, and looked around to the rest of the class again.

“AhEM, yes, well, right, that—that should do well, then,” he replied, loosening his tie. “Is it a bit warm in here? I supposed it’s a good time to head back to my natural climate in my office.” He faced the auditorium sprawling out below him, “Right! Well, gods’ speed, and Begin!”

***

The auditorium was filled with the sound of sighs, quiet groans, and scribbling. You paced up and down the aisles, making sure everyone filled in the bubbles in good faith. Matilda’s seat remained open as you passed it on your way up the stairs once more.

The door above clicked open. “Hi,” the professor whispered, holding the door ajar, folded napkin in hand, “Good work, I figured you could maybe use a little pick-me-up since you’ve been pacing for almost an hour, now.” He handed you the folded napkin through the space in the door. You turned and looked down toward the class, noticing that half of them watched the interaction while the other half looked toward their neighbor’s tables, and turned back to Dekarios. Unfolding the thin paper revealed a warm coffee cake muffin: your favorite.

His glasses held his tousled hair up and away from his face. A glimmer shone in his eyes and a smirk shined beneath. “I wouldn’t have my favorite coworker swooning alone in the classroom from not having a treat handy.” A smile was shared between the two of you.

“Thanks.”

“Of course, Meg. Now, I’ll let you get back to it. I was just getting to the part of the article regarding the importance of medieval cultural advances and folklore. It’s brilliant!” He pinched the air in front of him with zeal, then waved once more and closed the door. 

You held the pastry close to your face and breathed in deep, savoring the delicious aroma, when—

*BERMBERMBERM*

Emergency lights flashed as the fire alarm blared from all around; suddenly, the air was filled with the sound of panic a few screams from behind you. 

You spun around, almost dropping the muffin to see students scramble up, grabbing their bags and careening up the stairs. They raced past you, as you saw smoke billowing up from the foot of the stairs.

“Oh, my gods, Fire! FIRE!” 

“What on earth is happen—” began the professor, reopening the door only to be pushed aside by the crowd.

You turned, handed him the muffin, then leaped down the stairs taking two at a time. Halfway down, you unlocked the fire extinguisher case with your admin key and held it under your arm. Adrenaline pumping as you continued your descent, you failed to notice how close the last stair was when you skipped past it and landed at an angle on your left foot.

*twist*

FUCK, that’s going to be a problem. But, fire’s a bigger problem right now.

You limped over to where Professor Dekarios kept his dustbin: flames consumed the refuse paperwork in the basket. 

“NOT TODAY, FUCKER!”

You pulled the pin and the trigger, spraying foam and smothering the flames thoroughly. After a few more seconds, just to make sure the monster was conquered, you released the trigger, huffing while your ankle still throbbed. You placed the extinguisher down with a deep sigh and sat on the professor’s desk, trying to take weight off of your foot. A moan escaped you as you lifted your injured ankle up to your knee. Looking up, you noticed a handful of students by the doors and Gale halfway down the stairs, eyes wide and cheeks flushed. What you hadn’t noticed was how far your skirt had been hiked up your thigh.

“I think I got it, I think it’s fine now,” you panted, brushing a stray strand back behind your ear.

“Yes, I think you are—I mean, um,” he rubbed his eyes with his right hand and nodded, “Yes, yes, um, good job Meg,” he removed his hand and headed down the stairs to you. 

A few of the stray students clapped and you waved weakly, “Thanks, thank you, yup. That’s why they pay me the big bucks. Pretty sure it’s safe to say ‘class dismissed’, right, Gale?”

“Yes! Yes, you’re all dismissed,” he flicked his hand behind him flippantly, signaling for the remnants of the class to disappear.

Other administration members arrived to see what the commotion was about. “Gale! Meg! What the devil happened here?” You knew Rolan cared, he just had an odd way of showing it. “It smells abysmal in here, open a window or something.” The librarian stalked toward a large window a quarter of the way down the auditorium and shoved the pane up. A pleasant October breeze swept in. “And why are you still just sitting there?”

“It appears our heroine has acquired a wound in battle, so unless you know any healing techniques,” Gale’s voice lowered from a shout to something softer when he faced you, “she’s better off here, on my—well, on the desk, that is.”

“Ofcourse you would go an injure yourself, wouldn’t you?” His words were meant to annoy, but you saw the change in his demeanor upon hearing of your state. “Well, it’s best that the fire department should be here any minute, then isn’t it? And even if we called off the hounds, given that it seems you’ve fixed that smokey little problem, they’d still want to see for themselves if the danger was quelled substantially or not. They’ll probably have someone that can patch you up, though.” Rolan paused his soliloquy to focus on a different topic with a slightly gentler tone. He approached the desk you still sat on, your foot propped up while you grimaced, “…How bad is it?”

“It’s not great,” you sneered through half-closed eyes. 

At that moment, you could faintly hear sirens. Here comes the cavalry. At least there was one bit of good news: you could tell the firefighters you’d braved the flames and saved the school yourself. And considering, well, your general opinion of those in the fire services at large, you wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to impress if you could.

A few minutes later, the sirens stopped immediately outside of the window. You all watched and bantered as the crew climbed the stairway outside, lead by—

No, there’s no possible way one of them is that tall. It’s some kind of trick, viewing them at this angle through the glass, you rationalized. Then again, the rest of them all look normal. You suspended your disbelief and waited for them to make their way over, gear in tow. The tall one stopped outside of the door and spoke to Dean Aylin. Unlike nearly everyone around, the dean failed to be distracted by the fireman and continued to debrief him.

Time slowed.

The tallest man you had ever seen bowed his head and angled his shoulders down, through the doorway at the top of the stairs. A frown darkened his striking features, including his facial tattoo that stretched the length of his face on the right side. 

He locked eyes with your little group at the base of the auditorium, and his softened. 

“Well, I take it you’re our hero, are you not?” His voice boomed down, effortlessly.

“That’s me,” you replied, ignoring every single overwhelmed sensation in your mind and body at the thought of this muscle-bound behemoth talking to you. Just pretend this isn’t real. None of this is real, and I won’t say something stupid. I’ll be smooth as butter. “And you’re, what, the resident talking tree?”

“HA!” A wide grin cracked his face. He shook his head, “No, that would be our driver, Minsc. I’m Halsin Silverbough and I’ll be your medic for the meantime.” He slid his bunker gear jacket off and draped it over his arm as he approached you.

In what universe had you done something to deserve luck this phenomenal?

[pedros-immaculate-vibes]

UPDATE: SAMANTHA BEART COMMENTED ON IT

KARLACH’s VOICE ACTOR

SOMEBODY SMACK ME

YES I AM EASILy OVERWHELMED AND IMPRESSED AND EXCITABLE

WHY DONYOU ASK

[pedros-immaculate-vibes]

Smoke and Mirrors 3

Distractions Over Coffee

@general-dweebous BAM good things come in 3’s :D

“Hey! What’ll it be?” 

“Hullo, again,” he rubbed his palms together as if deciding how much to bet on a horse at the track, “can I have—uh, hmm—ah, let’s stick with those two americanos again, if that’s alright.”

“Room for cream and sugar, too, right?” Asked the barista, her eyes darting between the professor and the table he’d just alighted from.

“That would be correct, yes,” opening his wallet, “how much do I owe you?”

She pursed her lips, “If it’s just a few shots of espresso and water, it’s on the house. You and your wife come here all the time, it’s fine.”

Gale’s chest tightened—all of the air gone in an instant. He blinked several times, visibly processing. “My uh—my, my what?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I thought you two were—”

“HA, No! Oh, no no, I mean of COURSE not, we work together that could—that could never be a…possible—ahem, thing,” he glanced back at her, adjusting his glasses, hoping the ambient noise of the coffee house was enough to keep her from hearing all of this.

“Sorry, I just assumed, my bad,” the barista avoided eye contact as much as possible, writing their order on a napkin and handing that with the two mugs to her coworker. 

“No, it’s fine, I can see where the confusion would come from. We certainly frequent your establishment often enough,” he looked down and fiddled with his wallet. 

“Will that be all?”

“Yes, thank you,” an absent-minded nod as he stepped off to the side, letting someone else order next. Gale leaned against the wall near the pick-up counter, sliding his wallet into the pocket of his dockers and fidgeting instead with his glasses. He didn’t dare look up to see if Meg was looking his way; if she had heard and was now staring at him with an incredulous look. Or worse, an entertained chuckle about to burst forth from her lips. 

They looked fuller today, didn’t they. Maybe it’s because she keeps biting them while she studies.

[pedros-immaculate-vibes]

Smoke and Mirrors II

BG3 AU, where Professor Dekarios and his TA, Meg, have an emergency that brings the fire department and one very tall, tattooed medic to the scene.

(AKA the one where you have a crush on your coworker professor and Halsin is a firefighter paramedic with suspenders and doorways) (I regret absolutely nothing)

@general-dweebous HAPPY ACTUAL BIRTHDAY

“So, tell me what happened.” The medic stood next to you, toothpick between his lips, leaning one arm against the desk and other hand on his hip. He had just assigned five of his men to open the rest of the windows to ventilate the room after making sure the fire was actually smothered. One had left a bag of supplies near Halsin to better treat your ankle before going to turn the alarm system off. The cross breeze ruffled his long hair; most of it was tied into a bun in the back, but the bunker gear must have mussed it a bit since it now very much resembled—

Ohhhhhkay, he’s asking me something, stop thinking about sex hair  …and the way he probably looks half naked with the suspenders on, …ohh gods now it’s worse.

Your thoughts were like a litter of kittens in a box full of catnip-flavored toys.

“Sorry, um the pain isn’t helping me focus.” It was true. It wasn’t the entire truth, but it was part of it.

“Hmm, understandable. Was anyone else there to witness how you’d fallen?” The medic kneeled down to one knee to get a better look at the ankle. 

“I don’t think so, I kind of careened down the stairs by myself,” you adjusted your skirt back down as subtly as possible.

“Just you?”

“Yup.”

He nodded sagely, “Sounds like you deserve a raise, to say the least. Or maybe consider volunteering some time at the station,” He continued to survey your ankle without touching it. “Once this is healed, of course,” a cheeky smile up at you. He looked back down, “We could use that kind of moxie. Do you mind if I touch you?”

Air left the room. Your face grew hot. “Um—”

“Your ankle, I need to palpate it to make sure it’s not broken.”

“YES, ha, totally. That’s—AHEM—that’s fine.”

The left corner of his lip twitched before he began inspecting the joint. Gently angling your foot,  he muttered, “Tell me if it hurts.” It ached in just about every direction, but considering how you could still bend your toes and no particularly ugly bruising seemed to appear, he believed it was likely just a sprain. “Still very unpleasant, but you should be alright in the end. I would still like to bring you in for imaging, however, just to be sure.”

You’d already felt enough like a victim and less like a hero within the past few minutes, x-rays didn’t interest you. “I think I’m fine, I trust your judgement. You seem like you know you’re way around this sort of thing.”

He searched through the supply bag and grabbed an ice pack, lifting an eyebrow, “I’ve been doing this for a few years, yes. It’s a good way to pass the time after work,” a brief smile. You felt your eyes soften as you smiled back. “Here, place this on that ankle and I’ll get everything else ready.” He angled his head toward the professor and the librarian who still stood a foot away. “Can either of you give her a ride back home?”

You hadn’t realized how red the professor had gotten in the meantime. Looks pretty flustered—huh, wonder why.

“Certainly, I’d be happy to. It’s the least I can do after leaving you here alone while I caught up on research.” His jaw tightened.

“Excellent. Now, we should probably get you out of this room after I stabilize the joint, a bit.” The medic continued to gather his supplies, and added, “Thankfully, you wearing a skirt makes what I’m about to do a bit easier.”

He angled your leg up, now parallel with the desk, and began bandaging from the middle of your foot upward, holding your calf steady.

You looked off, trying to have some kind of banter with Rolan about presentations this upcoming week; anything to keep your mind off the warm hands manipulating your leg.

“Alright, that should be good. Is there a teacher’s lounge or something nearby? She’s spent enough time here with all of the smoke filtering out.”

“Yes, down the hall to the right, near the cafe. I can take you,” offered Rolan. 

The medic nodded, then turned to you with a sheepish smile as he looked at your ankle. “Now, I don’t think ascending these stairs will help that feel better. We can either use a stairchair to bring you up to the hall or…I can carry you.”

You were about to insist that you were fine, when you slid your leg down and placed weight on it, wincing too hard to say anything. Halsin caught you by your waist as the professor reached out to you too. 

“Hey, Bo, the stairchair’s broken, remember? We were gonna get an extra one from station 34 after lunch.”

Halsin sighed, helping you rest against the desk again, “I’d forgotten. Well, that leaves you with two options, Ms…?”

“Meg. Meg Tavve.”

“Ms. Tavve. Either we get a flexible stretcher down here and we all haul you up—”

“Absolutely not.”

He chuckled, “Or, I can carry you.”

You weren’t walking any where quickly, let alone the flight of stairs. A deep sigh, “Sure, if that’s okay with you.” Dread pooled in your stomach at the thought of this gargantuan man carrying you up the auditorium and through the hall. You might never emotionally recover from this. Not from the embarrassment, but from the fact that this would be way hotter than you could process in the moment, possibly ever.

“Of course,” a warm, polite smile. Gingerly, slowly, he hooked his arms behind your back and beneath your knees and smoothly lifted you like a feather. You fixed your glasses out of an anxious habit and could swear your bounding heart rate was audible. He climbed the stairs quickly since his stride naturally took two at a time and hunched through the doorway once more, making sure not to bump your leg against the frame. You recognized most of the students who now stood outside of the classroom; many of them were from your history class, while twice as many seemed to have joined the throng for the thrill. All of their eyes were now on you, however; better yet, they were on the one who carried you. Too self-conscious to wave or say hi to the students as you were carried like a newly wed by a man in bunker gear, you averted your eyes and instead looked at his chest.

MMM, THAT’S a mistake. You heart beat faster.

You looked down at the ice pack in your hands and fiddled with the serrated edge, trying hard to ignore the moment. 

Finally, after what seemed like a decade, Halsin arrived at the lounge with Rolan and Gale alongside him. The librarian badged you all in and Halsin ducked once more through the doorframe. 

“Must be a pain in the neck to do that all the time,” you commented, trying to ameliorate your nerves with small talk.

“Ha, I’ve gotten used to it. But thank you for the concern,” he grinned down at you, toothpick jutting from side to side in his lips.

Your face somehow burned even hotter as you smiled tightly back, then resumed investigating your hands. 

“This couch is the most comfortable,” informed Gale.

“Let’s have you raise this leg on the arm of it,” the medic mused, lowering you to the cushions. You lay there, leg elevated a few inches above the other as Gale scrambled around the room to collect any pillows. Outside, you could hear the Vice Principle try to contain the crowd. you looked toward the uncovered window pane that showed the hall: faces of several undergrads with their phones out covered every available inch of the window. 

“If you’re situated, I’ll see how things are progressing with my crew, then come back.” You nodded and out he went. Unsurprisingly, half of the crowd diminished beyond the window.

Gale arrived at your side and motioned for you to lift your back slowly before sliding three pillows behind it, “How’s that, Pidge?” A nickname he’d given you after two semesters together. You had both been reading a classic where the main character, Pidge, had reminded him of you. She was stubborn yet helpful and willing to go into harms way for those she traveled with. The nickname stuck and you didn’t mind. Not a bit.

His voice had taken a sweeter, lower tone than you’d ever heard him use. “Much better, thanks. Any chance we can reschedule that coffee while we grade papers?”

A laugh that seemed like a release valve had opened came from the disheveled professor. “After all that’s happened, and that’s what you’re thinking about? I still don’t know how your priorities work.”

“Well, I was just looking forward to it, I suppose.”

His shoulders drooped and his eyes softened. A moment passed. “Of course.” Another moment passed. 

The two of you hadn’t looked away. “Yes…well, considering,” he spoke slowly, as if willing the words out, “how I do believe the exam wasn’t concluded before our impromptu little bonfire,” the two of you giggled for a second, “I think we’ll have to reschedule the…exam, as well,” a brief flicker of his eyes to your lips. “If, however, you still would like a caffeinated study session, I could show you the article I was reading? Once you’re feeling up to it.”

“I’d like that,” your eyes bounced from his left to his right, then back again. You hadn’t noticed until now that within his chocolate brown eyes were flecks of vibrant green around the pupils, probably because you’d never been this close to him before. So close, you could almost feel the warmth radiating from him as he knelt by the couch. 

“Is she alright?” A stern but concerned voice sounded behind the professor. Dean Aylin stood there, arms crossed with one foot in the doorway for a quick escape. She wanted information to be disseminated as quickly as possible so everyone would get back to normal. Probably, so she could return home to her fiancé on time.

“I’m good! Almost done getting patched up, at least according to the medic. He wanted to come back and check something, first.”

“Good. I’ll let these zealots know,” with that, she swung the door wide open and shouted for everyone to return to their classes or wherever they came from. Some of them listened while others left only to return after she’d moved on.

“Now that most of the drama has concluded, do you need me to get you anything? Besides an injury report form, I mean,” Rolan asked, stirring a tea he had just made. 

Always the logical one. Of the three of you, he’d always been the one focused on the topic at hand with very little emotional input. He was a vital part of your trio. “If you don’t have anything more important to do, I think that would be great.”

“Certainly. It would give me something besides organizing late rentals.” He headed toward the door, “Don’t set anything else aflame, alright?” He gave you a knowing smirk. “We can’t keep those fireman here all day.” Before you could add something to that, he was gone, but not before chastising the students in his way. 

“Oh my goodness, you still haven’t eaten anything, you must be starved.” Gale bounced up to his feet. “Let me get you something. Turkey sandwich? A parfait? What would you like?” He held his palms together and waited.

“Uh, I hadn’t thought of that, anything that looks good I guess. You don’t have to, you know, I think I’m fine.”

“Nonsense! You have to keep that blood sugar up,” he paced to the door. “I should know. You’ve seen me when I don’t eat for a while. I’ll be back in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.” And with that, he left. You lay there, smelling of smoke and feeling dizzy from everything that had happened. Fuck, I left my phone in that room. You held your forehead as you looked up to the ceiling, realizing it would be just you and your thoughts until someone returned.

Minutes ticked by. You kept thinking about the fire, how it could have started, the medic, who might have started it, and how that medic had so gently wrapped your ankle. You felt your face turn beet red at the memory.

The toothpick between his lips when he smirked. His voice. What those hands would be capable of in other situations—

You threw your hands over your face in a frustrated fury, “OH MY GOD, I’m Not helping ANYTHING. FUCK.”

“What?” The same voice came from the door. 

You froze in place. 

“Are you alright? Does it feel worse?”

“I’m fine! I mean, besides the ankle, I’m fine. I was just—thinking about everything that happened and its just…a lot, haha.” You were getting pretty good at vague truths.

“Indeed. I’m sure they’ll be singing your praises within these halls for generations.” He stood, one arm leaning against the doorway. Questions and voices surged passed the crack in the door. He opened it slowly, thanked everyone for their concern, then recommended they all go about their business. Gingerly, he closed the door. Halsin looked at you, drawing the shades down over the window. “This door locks on its own, right?”

Your mouth went dry and you think your eyes fluttered. “Y-yes.”

“Good. Those students are either very nosey or quite thirsty.” He pointed to the coffee machine. “Do you mind if I—”

“No, not at all!”

“Thank you.” He slid his suspenders down off and rolled his shoulders back, stretching his neck. “We were at lunch when the call came, I had just gotten my coffee.” He stood at the counter, back toward you and reached for a mug.

“Sorry to have ruined your coffee break,” you replied, a hint of humor in the delivery.

He half-turned his face toward you, a raised eyebrow visible as he poured his coffee. Something between a sigh and a chuckle left him. He pivoted toward you, “I’ve had worse calls break the pleasure of a morning’s first sip.” His lips crested the mug as he held your gaze.

You had definitely stopped breathing. 

“What do you teach?”

“Oh, I’m a teacher’s assistant. Professor Dekarios teaches history.”

“Mm, professor Dekarios. Do you always call him that?” He angled his head at you.

“Well, no, his first name’s Gale, I’ve just gotten used to calling him that when referring to him to others,” you began to ramble, “but when it’s just us, I generally just call him Gale.”

“Mm-hmm,” a smirk. He looked down, one hand wrapped around the mug handle while the other rested in his pocket as he leaned against the counter. “Given that you seem to be good friends with the professor, is there a chance he could persuade you into getting that ankle x-rayed?”

Oh, this again. You failed to subdue your sass and gave an eye roll in response. His smile brightened.

“Is that why you’re still here?”

“Partly.” He took his hand and rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he walked toward the door. “If you’ve seriously injured yourself while saving your pupils, and I allowed you to continue as if you hadn’t, I would be doing a hero a dishonor,” he shook his head, mockingly, now leaned against the wall in front of the doorway.

“Fine,” your heckles stood up on end. “What’ll it take to get you to believe me that I’m alright?”

He reached a finger out. “Come over here.”

You blinked. Your face flushed. 

He repeated himself seeing as you didn’t respond. “Come. To me.”

It was almost degrading. “But my ankle—”

“If it hurts too much to walk this short way, supporting yourself on nearby objects and putting as little weight on it as possible, then you should let me take you. The ice should have helped a bit by now.” He crossed his free arm over his chest and took another sip. “So come.”

You grumbled a few choice phrases as you situated yourself to stand. One foot down, then the other. You expected your ankle to flare up again with excruciating pain, but instead, there was a dull throb. You frowned in surprise and began lifting yourself up carefully. Slowly, holding your weight on the backs of futons and sturdy tables in the lounge, you crossed the nearly two yards toward this unconventional medic. Weren’t they supposed to help then leave? Why is he still making this an issue?

The medic continued to drink his coffee, watching you make your way toward him, skirt rustling with each step. In another minute, you were standing by the doorway, holding yourself up against the wall, two feet away from him.

“Did you want me right in front of you, or is this good enough?” You asked with as sarcastic an air as you could muster, given how glad you were that you could, in fact, walk a little bit.

He finished the cup of coffee, eyes bright, “That’s good enough.” He placed the mug on a nearby table, “It seems you’ve proven me wrong, Ms. Tavve.” A smirk.

Your shoulders relaxed and your temper quelled. “Call me Meg.”

His eyes warmed the slightest bit, and he leaned away from the wall. His right hand reached the top angle of the door frame as he shifted his weight closer toward you. One hand on his hip, the other a foot above your head, he towered over you. “Well, you’ve proven me wrong, Meg.”

Time stopped again. You had certainly forgotten how to breath.

You thought your knees would give out right as the Professor badged the door open and almost walked straight into the medic’s bicep. Pausing with a scowl, Gale looked up at the medic, then down to you with surprise.

“You’re up and about! That was fast,” with a smile.

He stared back at the medic and cleared his throat. Halsin, slowly straightened back up, toothpick swerving between his lips again, and held you in his eyes. Gale cleared his throat as he walked passed him, headed for a nearby table. 

“I found broccoli and cheese soup, if that’s okay. I’m pretty sure it’s one of your favorite’s.”

Halsin nodded toward you, “You’ve got good taste.”

“Ha, y-yeah, sometimes.” You caught yourself and realized he meant in food, not in men. “Thank you, Gale.” You blinked and shook your head, “Maybe I do need to eat something, I’m feeling a little woozy.”

In a moment, the professor shot to your side and held your arm, “Yes, well, you’ve had a very busy day and very little time for yourself. How about we get something in your stomach and then I’ll bring you home, mm?”

You sat down and looked at the tray he’d brought you: every single one of your favorite dishes the on-campus restaurant was known for serving on a Thursday. “Oh my gods, how much do I owe you?”

He waved his hand, “Nothing. Consider it payment for that tray of cookies that one time.”

You beamed, realizing they hadn’t been forgotten. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the medic grab a paper and pen and scribble something down. You swiveled your head towards him as he came over. “In case anything should come up regarding that leg, here’s the station number,” he placed the scrap of paper in front of you. 

You looked at it. There were two phone numbers there.

“What’s the second one?”

“In case you’re interested in having a medic familiar with that leg inspect it again.”

A wink. 

“Make sure no one else sets any fires, mm?” He nodded toward Gale.

The professor stayed quiet. 

Halsin made a quick wave and headed out of the lounge. 

“Are they always that unpleasant?” Grumbled the professor, watching him leave.

You were still reeling from having two of your ideal men in the same room, both equally interested in having your attention. If only you could replay the day, one more time.

[pedros-immaculate-vibes]

SOMEONE WITH ACTUAL TALENT PLEASE DO THIS

[pedros-immaculate-vibes]

Okay so instead of the doctor Halsin fanfic that I haven’t started (yet) or the paramedic SILVERBOUGH/Professor Dekarios fanfic I HAVE started, I’m adding a chapter to A Peaceful Elf

YAY UPDATES

there’s a lot of chit chat in this one and it’s mostly from Astarion’s POV, bc we love him.

[pedros-immaculate-vibes]

Professor Dekarios, Paramedic Firefighter Halsin, and You walk into a bar

What happens