#gale never understood her

[shinynewmemories]

Broke: "Katniss was only with Peeta because of their shared trauma from the Games and the events that followed. After what they went through together, there was no one who truly understood her like Peeta. But if Prim and Peeta had never been reaped, Katniss would have ended up with Gale/stayed single."

Woke: "The Games and the events that followed brought Katniss and Peeta together, but there was something special between them since the day with the bread. Katniss had a subconscious interest in him since they were 11, and after the reaping she couldn't help but fall for him due to their close proximity. The Games weren't her reason for choosing Peeta, but they were a catalyst for their relationship."

Bespoke: "The Games did more to hinder Katniss and Peeta's relationship than to help it. In fact, without the Games to complicate things, Katniss would have fallen for Peeta fast and hard. The Games and the events that followed were responsible for countless barriers to their love including (but not limited to):

1. Instilling in Katniss a distrust of Peeta that did not come naturally to her

2. Forcing her to act in love, regardless of the authenticity of her feelings, in order to survive

3. Broadcasting every moment they shared, no matter how intimate/private, onto every screen in every house in the country

4. Driving them apart due to the pain and confusion that followed the inevitable end of her "star-crossed lovers" act

5. Making their relationship a political tool of manipulation and oppression

6. Leading Snow to hold Katniss personally responsible for defusing the civil unrest within the Districts by means of their love story

7. Forcing them under threat of death to act in love for the rest of their lives, thereby taking away their agency and ability to choose each other out of real love or desire

8. Robbing them of a future together, even if they wanted it, by returning Katniss to the Games and ensuring the death of at least one of them

9. Traumatizing them in ways they'll have to deal with for the remainder of their lives

10. So many other things

The Hunger Games is NOT the story of how Katniss fell in love with Peeta due to or even during the Games. It's the story of how Katniss fell in love with Peeta IN SPITE OF THEM."

[paroxysmalwords]

As a teenager I understood why Gale was more hateful and resentful than Peeta. He did have a tougher upbringing, after all, and his father died in the mines when he was only 13, and he had to assume the position as head of his family and put his name more times in the reaping. On the day of the reaping for the 74th Hunger Games, his name was in 42 times, whereas Peeta, for reference, likely only had five entries.

And yet by the end of the series — by the end of the first book, even — Peeta had arguably gone through worse than Gale. For all his entries, Gale was never actually reaped. Didn’t have to go into the Games, fight for his life in a sadistic, controlled environment, or forced to kill other people. Never lost his leg, a disability no amount of childhood privilege can make up for. Gale never lost his family in a bombing, and was never hijacked and tortured by the Capitol.

Despite it all, Peeta didn’t let any of that turn him bitter, or dull his sincerity and compassion. He didn’t take his anger out on Katniss like Gale, or act huffy when she didn’t immediately love him back. He simply loved her, purely and genuinely and passionately, until she loved him back. Enthusiastically, out of her own free will.

I think it links to a larger argument about privilege and virtue. Suffering is tough, but it’s not inherently virtuous. Peeta was more privileged than Gale, but he was still District, after all, and eligible to be reaped. And he could have chosen to let his horrible experiences plunge him into a rage and anger — and RIGHTFULLY so! — but he chose otherwise. He chose love, and hope.

[justafewberries]

Themes of Implicit Submission in The Hunger Games (Book One)

I’ve just finished re-reading The Hunger Games (book one) and there are a few themes that I expect SOTR will develop based on Hume’s implicit submission theory. Specifically, these are the main six tactics I believe the Capitol uses to thwart another rebellion present in the first book alone: 

Societal Pressure:

District 12 has a “keep your head down” culture. Any talks of rebellion are frowned upon. Any anti-government statements will cause social repercussions. It’s not just Katniss rolling her eyes at Gale in the woods, it’s how she has been groomed by the culture to keep quiet about the issues pervading life in the district:

“When I was younger, I scared my mother to death, the things I would blurt about District 12, about the people who rule our country, Panem, from the far-off city called the Capitol. Eventually, I understood this would only lead us to more trouble. So I learned to hold my tongue and to turn my features into an indifferent mask so that no one could ever read my thoughts. Do my work quietly in school. Make only polite small talk in the public market. Discuss little more than trades in the Hob.… Even at home, where I am less pleasant, I avoid discussing tricky topics. Like the reaping, or food shortages, or the Hunger Games. Prim might begin to repeat my words and then where would we be?” (p.6)

All of this proceeds the statement:

“Even here, in the middle of nowhere, you worry someone might overhear you.” (p. 5)

Under this point, it is also telling that during the reaping ceremony, Katniss says the “boldest form of dissent [the audience] can manage,” is silence. Not outrage, not yelling, not like district 11, but silence (p. 24).

2. Division between Classes 

The Capitol has created conflict within the districts to draw hatred to a local target. In the case of the first book, Gale remarks tesserae is a tactic to keep them divided. 

“Gale knows his anger at Madge is misdirected. On other days, deep in the woods, I’ve listened to him rant about how the tesserae are just another tool to cause misery in our district. A way to plant hatred between the starving workers of the Seam and those who can generally count on supper and thereby ensure we will never trust one another. “It’s to the Capitol’s advantage to have us divided among ourselves,” he might say if there were no ears to hear but mine.” (p. 14)

Interestingly, tesserae is already known as the “courtesy of the capitol” as stamped on Haymitch’s shorts in SOTR. The Capitol markets tesserae as something it does out of goodness. It attempts to make itself seem well-intentioned via the distribution of necessary goods. It’s their courtesy, after all. 

This point also includes the division between the districts. In the games, Katniss remarks how allying with the careers is essentially traitorous. 

“No one from District 12 would think of doing such a thing! Career tributes are overly vicious, arrogant, better fed, but only because they’re the Capitol’s lapdogs.” (p. 162)

By treating certain districts better, the Capitol promotes distrust between the districts, dampening potential unionization with planted hatred. By choosing favorite children, the parent that is the Capitol forces the districts to fight. 

3. Weaponized Language

The name of the Treaty of Treason, the treaty that makes the Hunger Games necessary per the law, is definitive of how the districts are forced to see themselves. They are the ones who committed treason by rebelling, and therefore they are guilty. They must repent by sending the children to the games. The permanent treaty, read during every reaping ceremony, enforces the guilt the districts are supposed to feel. In turn, the fact it is a “treaty” means the districts must have agreed to and signed it. Regardless of the circumstances around the signing of the treaty, the capitol then has the ability to wave it over their heads henceforth. 

The name itself points a finger and keeps the districts forever at fault. 

Furthermore, the fact Katniss is referred to by her district number until and even after she is given something to remember her by (the fire) further dehumanizes the tributes. During the parade, she says the citizens of the capitol have liked her and Peeta enough to "read the program" and learn their names (p. 70).

There are many more examples of villainizing and dehumanizing language in the book, but I have chosen those examples for the sake of brevity.

4. Propagandizing Education

A major theme in many dystopian novels is how the system treats education. In District 12, Katniss tells the reader:

“Besides basic reading and math, most of our instruction is coal-related. Except for the weekly lecture on the history of Panem. It’s mostly a lot of blather about what we owe the Capitol.” (p. 42)

A weekly lecture in a school is quite a lot of time to devote to any one subject. Seeing as how the rest of their curriculum revolves around district-specific content, the weekly lecture must be mandated across all districts, likely leaving the rest up to the discretion of the district itself. The Capitol once again emphasizes how the districts were wrong. It is repeated week after week, and eventually, it becomes ingrained in the social psychology of the district. 

5. Hunger and Deprivation of Needs

Continuing from the section about Katniss knows the weekly lecture must be propaganda, saying,

“I know there must be more than they’re telling us, an actual account of what happened during the rebellion. But I don’t spend much time thinking about it. Whatever the truth is, I don’t see how it will help me get food on the table.” (p. 42)

This point coincides with my second point about the division of classes. By keeping the people hungry, they are too busy thinking about the lowest rung on Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs. They see those who have food, and they are the opposition in front of them, rather than examining the source of the problem. By keeping the people hungry, they are less likely to have the time or ability to even think about a collective uprising. 

6. Limiting Flow of Information

The Capitol limits the flow of information between districts. In doing so, the districts are forced to make bridging assumptions about one another. This is revealed through Katniss and Rue’s discussion in the games: 

“It’s interesting, hearing about her life. We have so little communication with anyone outside our district. In fact, I wonder if the Gamemakers are blocking out our conversation, because even though the information seems harmless, they don’t want people in different districts to know about one another.” (p. 203)

By keeping them separate, they can turn any district against another. They rely solely on the Capitol for information about other districts, and therefore the Capitol has all of the power. 

Interestingly, another division between classes is shown through Peeta’s knowledge about other districts. He knows the different types of bread from the districts, implying the merchant class may have more access to information than those of the seam, leading to further division between classes. 

All in all, these are the themes I expect to be addressed in SOTR based on the pretense of implicit submission.

[persevereforahappyending]

A Legacies Secret |12|

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

Summary: You just wanted a happy life with your girlfriend but then Ghostface attacks, revealing long thought to be buried family secrets.

Warnings: Language, Crime Scene, Talks of Murder

Word Count: 2.9k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15

Sam sighed, running a hand through her hair as she stepped back into the hall. She understood where her sister was coming from, hell, she couldn’t even blame Tara. Sam would probably tell herself she was a danger and to stay away as well. She knew it wasn’t completely rational, but there was an officer right outside Tara’s room, another down the hall, and another in the lobby. There was no reason to think Tara would be in danger unless she was with Sam herself or with you.

Ghostface attacked Tara to draw Sam back to town and it worked. He then attacked you when he knew you’d be away from everyone else. So far, Ghostface’s plan has worked perfectly. This Ghostface knew who Sam’s father was, it took her reading her mom’s old diary to learn that and yet, this monster somehow found out. Then there was you, you were the daughter of Gale Weathers and Dewey Riley, Ghostface learned that before even you did. Ghostface somehow learned Gale had a child, and that child grew up to be you.

Sam knew every previous Ghostface was a part of the friend group, and the killings always went back to the very beginning. This all seemed like a lot for one of Tara's friends to plan though. Whoever did this would have had to do their research; they would have had to have connections. Gale did everything in secret with you, she even left you outside the hospital to remain anonymous, Sam couldn’t even begin to imagine how Ghostface learned that information, if they specifically went searching for some reason or they got lucky and dug from there.

You might not believe it, considering you were at the top of everyone’s suspect list, but you weren’t even on Sam’s list, not anymore. After watching you and Tara together she saw how much you loved her sister, you would literally die before you let anything happen to her, there was no way you’d ever hurt her. What really sold her was your reaction to hearing the truth, like she told Tara, you’d have to be one hell of an actor to sell that. You looked exactly how Sam felt all those years ago, your world shattering before your eyes.

Sam felt for you, she truly did. Learning her dad wasn’t her dad and her real dad was in fact a serial killer definitely sucked, it was something she’d be dealing with in therapy probably for the rest of her life. Despite all that though for the first half of her life she had a loving family, everything was perfect. You never had any of that though, you grew up knowing your family didn’t want you, you grew up alone. The only person you seemed to truly have in your life was Tara. Sam sighed; she asked you to stay away from Tara.

“You, okay?” Richie asked. Sam didn’t have time to stew in her guilt for long as she came back to reality, seeing Richie in front of her, watching her with concern all over his face.

Sam nodded, she looked around, the same officer was still outside Tara’s room, typing away on his phone. Judy was down the hall talking to another officer and pointing to your room. All of Tara’s friends had left though, just as she asked. Part of Sam wondered if she should do the same and just come back in the morning, so far, every time she visited Tara, she seemed to be making things worse.

“Want to go back to the motel?” Richie asked, giving her an awkward smile. “You need to rest, today was a lot,” he reached up and gave her arm a comforting rub.

Sam gave him a sad smile and nodded. “Yeah,” she whispered. Maybe she just needed a break, she just needed to go and sleep in an actual bed, her mind might be more at ease staying at the hospital, but she didn’t think she’d get much sleep in the waiting room chairs.

She followed Richie out of the hospital. “I’ll grab the car,” he whispered before running off across the parking lot.

Sam bounced up and down on her feet outside the hospital. She tried to ignore the fact that Dewey and Gale were clearly arguing a few feet away from her.

“You kept our daughter from me!” Dewey tried to shout but his voice ended up cracking. “Our daughter.”

“I know, I know,” Gale said. She reached out for Dewey, but he stepped away. Sam really was trying not to eavesdrop; she just couldn’t help it. “I’m sorry, I know that’s not enough. I don’t know what else to say.”

“There’s nothing to say!” Dewey gestured widely. “I knew your career was important to you but why didn’t you say something? Out of all the ways…” he shook his head. “Why didn’t you just leave her with me?”

Gale opened and closed her mouth a few times. “I was scared.” Dewey shook his head, clearly not wanting to hear this excuse. “We had just broken up; I was in New York.”

“But you came back to town, you left her here, you-you-,” he gripped at his hair. “We could have figured something out.”

“Let me make this right,” Gale whispered, stepping closer.

Dewey looked at Gale long and hard for a moment before slowly shaking his head. “I’m not sure you can.” With that he walked off, leaving Gale to stand there crying alone.

Sam let out a relieved breath when she saw Richie pull up. She ran to the car as quickly as she could. She had enough going on at the moment, the last thing she wanted was to get caught up in your apparent family drama. She couldn’t blame you or Dewey though, Sam couldn’t even forgive her own mother for keeping her birth father a secret, she didn’t see how you or Dewey could ever forgive Gale.

Sam rested her arm on the door and her head in her hand, she stared out the window as Richie drove them to the motel. Sam had picked out the motel, it was one of the only ones in town, and she had yet to even enter the room.

“And we’ve arrived,” Richie said, breaking Sam out of her trance.

She got out of the car and followed Richie to the door. Richie opened the door, doing a little wave with his hand as he gestured inside the room. Sam smiled at his theatrics but as soon as she got to the doorway she stopped. “What’s wrong?” Richie asked.

“You know, I think I need to clear my head,” Sam said, stepping back. “I’m going to go for a drive.”

“Want me to come?”

Sam shook her head. “I think I just need some time alone.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” Sam nodded. “I won’t be too long.” She leaned forward, giving Richie a quick kiss before plucking the keys from his hands.

“Okay,” Richie said before entering the room.

Sam got in the driver’s seat of the car. She stared at the motel building in front of her, her body was absolutely exhausted, the only thing calling her name was the crappy bed she knew was inside. Her mind was going a mile a minute though, she knew she’d never be able to rest like this, she just needed to clear her head. She started the car and slowly began to back out of the parking space and turn back onto the main road.

Sam drove around aimlessly, despite growing up in the town she didn’t have a destination in mind, she just kept turning at a stop sign. She furrowed her brow when she saw blue lights flashing up ahead. She looked around, her heart picking up slightly when she realized what street she was on exactly. She pulled over on the side of the road, away from the emergency vehicles. She rushed across the street, her eyes frantically searching for a familiar face, specifically one she was desperate to see safe and sound.

There were already several police cruisers and an ambulance at the house, officers had even already taped up the scene. It hadn’t been too long since everyone left the hospital, when Sam left Judy was still there. Whatever happened had to have just occurred, the quick response of the authorities did nothing to ease Sam’s anxieties.

Sam began to go under the police tape when an officer appeared in front of her. “Sorry ma’am, this is an active crime scene,” he said, holding up his hand.

“What happened?” Sam asked, trying to see around the officer.

Sam’s eyes landed on a yellow tarp being placed over a body on the front porch. “The sheriff.”

Sam’s eyed widened, she had just been with the sheriff, Mindy said the sequel characters, as she liked to call them, didn’t matter, there was no reason for anyone to think Judy would be attacked, besides, she was the sheriff, that wasn’t an easy person to go after.

“What about her son? Sam asked, her eyes instantly scanning for him. “Wes, please, I’m a friend.” Wes only had his mom; she couldn’t imagine him witnessing this or discovering her body.

When Sam looked up, meeting the cops' eyes for the first time, she saw it on his face, she knew what his next words would be. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. He turned to walk back across the lawn, back to the crime scene.

Sam ran a hand through her hair. She was just with Wes, he wasn’t supposed to be a target, there was no reason for him to be a target. Mindy was naïve enough to believe this Ghostface was only going after those connected to the first set of killings and Sam was stupid enough to believe it. Judy might not have liked Sam but without her around, the investigation would slow down even more, everyone would be more concerned with the sheriff's death than actually stopping Ghostface.

“I can’t believe you,” Sam heard a man say. She turned to see Gale Weathers walking across the sidewalk, speedily in her heels away from a news van. Dewey was trailing after her, clearly unhappy with whatever Gale was doing or about to do.

“This was the only way to come,” Gale snapped, spinning around to glare at Dewey.

“Oh, was our secret daughter being in danger not enough for you?” Dewey whispered harshly.

“I didn’t report at the hospital. I would never do that to her,” her voice cracked.

Dewey let out a humorless chuckle. “Gale Weathers putting someone else before her career? Guess that makes you mother of the year.” Dewey brushed past her, not waiting for her to say anything.

While Dewey began to talk to one of the officers close by, Sam watched as Gale ran her hands down her blazer, smoothing out any wrinkles. When Gale turned around Sam couldn’t even tell Dewey’s words had affected her, she kept her face completely neutral as she walked to a spot in front of the police tape. The only indication that Dewey’s words hit her was the way she gripped the microphone in her hands. When her camera man popped up, propping the camera on his shoulder as he pointed at her to begin, she fell right into reporter mode. She smiled at the camera and began to recount the recent Ghostface killings, effortlessly leading into the latest attack on Judy and Wes.

“Hey!” Sam shouted when she caught sight of a familiar officer. “Hey, what are you doing here?” She shouted again, finally getting officer Vincent to look at her.

“I heard the call about the sheriff,” he said, as if that explained everything.

“Who’s guarding my sister?”

“All hands-on deck,” he shrugged and made his way over to the sheriff's body and the other officers.

Sam let out a frustrated groan, she knew the murder of the sheriff was top priority, but she couldn’t believe that cop left his position. Deputy Vincent had orders to protect Tara, he clearly wasn’t doing that, Sam highly doubted he could bring something new to the table that the other officers couldn’t. Sam’s eyes widened when she realized the cop who had been guarding her sister’s door was now standing across the lawn, nowhere near the hospital.

Sam didn’t hesitate to take off back towards her car. “Where are you going?” Dewey shouted after her.

“My sister is in danger!” Sam shouted back; she didn’t have time to waste. She told you to stay away from Tara, she herself left the hospital, now the one person ordered to protect Tara was also gone, there was literally no one standing between Tara and Ghostface coming after her.

Sam didn’t know shit about the movies, she didn’t know how any of this was actually supposed to work. What she did know though was that whoever was doing this was trying to hurt Sam for some reason and now that her sister was defenseless the easiest way to hurt Sam would be to go after Tara again. Ghostface let Tara live the first time, that was just to draw Sam back to town though, there was no way he’d let her live the second time.

“What are you doing?” Sam asked when she saw Dewey running after her.

“Figured you could use backup,” Dewey sighed, though he didn’t seem thrilled about most likely running straight into the line of fire.

“You don’t need to stay?” Sam flicked a glance across the way where Gale stood, talking to her camera man as she gestured behind her, talking about the crime scene.

“This isn’t where I’m needed,” is all Dewey said.

Sam didn’t waste anymore time before she jumped in the car, quickly starting it, she barely checked her mirrors as she whipped back out onto the road. She ignored the way Dewey groaned, his hands flailing to grasp the handle on the door as he was flung back against the seat.

With one hand Sam whipped out her phone, quickly tapping on Richie’s contact. “Hey,” Richie greeted after a few rings.

“Get to the hospital,” Sam said quickly.

“What? Why? What’s going on?”

“I think Tara’s in danger.”

There was a long pause, Sam wondered if she somehow had lost him. “You want me to go to the hospital where a psycho killer might be?” She could hear the hesitation in his voice.

“Richie, please,” Sam begged.

“Okay, okay, I’m going.”

“We’ll meet you there.” Sam made an abrupt right turn, letting her phone fly out of her hand and into Dewey’s lap.

Dewey let out a groan and held out the phone to Sam. “Sorry,” she whispered. She quickly took the phone back, scrolling through the contacts until she found the one she wanted.

“Now, who are you calling?” Dewey asked.

“Y/N,” Sam answered instantly. Dewey furrowed his brow; he opened his mouth to say something else but before he could Sam heard the little click indicating someone had picked up. “Y/N,” she practically screamed into the phone.

“Too what do I owe the displeasure Samantha?” you asked, clearly still pissed at her.

Sam couldn’t blame you; she couldn’t even be bothered to care you called her Samantha, there were more important matters at hand. “Ghostface is going after Tara.”

“What?” You instantly got serious. “How do you know?” It sounded like you were shuffling around.

“Judy’s dead.” There was silence on the other end, Sam couldn’t even hear you moving around anymore. “Wes too.”

“Fuck,” you whispered.

“He’s going after Tara.” Sam let out a shaky breath, she knew how hypocritical she was, she told you to stay away from Tara because you were going to put her in danger and now, she was calling you, her only hope at protecting Tara. “Look I’m-”

“He’s not laying a fucking hand on her,” you cut her off. Sam couldn’t help but glance at her phone, your voice had gotten much darker, she really wouldn’t want to be Ghostface at the moment.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“Whatever,” with that you hung up.

Sam blinked away a few tears, you were there, Tara would be fine. She didn’t miss the way Dewey was glancing at her. “I told her to stay away from Tara,” Sam whispered.

“And yet she was the one you called,” he said.

“I knew she’d ignore me,” Sam let out a humorless chuckle.

“She really loves her,” Dewey whispered more to himself.

Sam spared a quick glance at Dewey. He was slumped in the seat, staring out the windshield but at nothing in particular. Sam couldn’t imagine what he must be going through, his wife, ex-wife, love of his life, never told him they had a daughter together. Sam might not have known Dewey all too well, but she knew he was a good man. He and you were robbed of getting to be a family. He was robbed of getting to be a father and you were robbed of getting a loving father.

Sam nodded. “She’s very protective,” Sam said quietly. “She won’t let anyone, no matter who they are,” She smiled to herself, remembering how you got with her when it came to Tara, you didn’t care she was Tara’s older sister, your only priority was making sure Tara was okay, “hurt someone she loves.”

Sam caught the small, yet sad, smile on Dewey’s face. Sam whipped the wheel, making another sharp turn. Everything was going to be fine, you were with Tara, you would protect her, and she and Dewey were on the way, no one else was going to die today.

[moonselune]

Seluneyyyy I can’t get over the dark bg3 content!!!! I am absolutely devouring it and am ravenous for more!! 🥵 Especially for Gale, Astarion, and Halsin! SO enchanted with your writing style and everyone is so IC down to the last detail!

Just an idea for a future one—you could base it off of “Just where do you think you’re going?” like an escape attempt or something

Xxx

mwhahahahahha yes yes yes I love this series icl

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Dark!BG3 | Escape Attempt

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

For: Conqueror!Minthara, MotherSuperior!Shadowheart, God!Gale, Ascended!Astarion, Naturist!Halsin

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

CW: Controlling, manipulation, murder, gore, coercion, forced memory loss, entrapment

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Conqueror Minthara:

After weeks of confinement and illness, Minthara's tender care brought you back from the brink (a brink she had pushed you towards but you tried not to dwell on that). Though you were far from fully recovered. One morning, restless and craving some semblance of freedom, you decided to take a walk around the gardens. It was a rare privilege, and one Minthara had permitted as a gesture of goodwill.

The gardens were eerily beautiful, filled with lush, vibrant plants and flowers that contrasted sharply with the gruesome displays of traitors’ corpses hanging from gnarled trees and spikes. Each corpse was a grim reminder of Minthara’s ruthlessness, a warning to any who might consider betrayal. As you walked among them, the air thick with the scent of decay, a rising panic began to claw at your insides.

Your breath quickened, heart pounding in your chest. You could almost see yourself among the corpses, your life snuffed out as easily as theirs had been. The terror grew, feeding on itself, until you were consumed by the overwhelming need to escape.

Without thinking, you turned and began to run, your steps frantic and uneven. You stumbled through the gardens, desperate to put as much distance between yourself and the macabre displays as possible. But in your panic, you collided with a solid figure, the impact jarring you back to reality.

Minthara stood before you, her eyes narrowing with a mix of surprise and amusement.

"Where do you think you are going?" she asked, her voice a soft, dangerous purr.

You couldn’t find the words to respond, your mouth dry and your mind blank. You could only think of escape, of getting away from this house, this place, this woman who held your life in her hands. You tried to push past her, but Minthara’s grip was firm and unyielding. She encircled your waist with her arms, pulling you close with an ease that belied her strength.

"Clearly, you are still unwell," she murmured, her breath warm against your ear. "Come, let’s get you back to the garden."

The suggestion was a trigger, and your panic surged again. You struggled against her hold, but she was unmovable. In your desperation, you found yourself nestling closer to her, throwing your face into her shoulder and clinging to her, desperately trying to hide from the sight of the corpses that haunted your vision.

Minthara’s eyes lit up with realization and satisfaction. She understood the source of your panic, and it pleased her. She placed her palm on the back of your head and held you dear to her.

"Oh, my dearest," she whispered, her voice dripping with dark delight. "Are you frightened? You should be. This is what happens to those who defy me."

She held you tighter, her arms a cage you couldn’t escape. Her fingers brushed through your hair soothingly, a stark contrast to the horror around you.

"But you are not like them, are you?" She cooed to you, "You are mine, and I take care of what is mine."

Minthara began to lead you back towards the house, her grip never loosening. You clung to her, your panic attack rendering you helpless, your body trembling against hers. She guided you with a twisted sense of gentleness, her satisfaction evident in the way she held you, in the tone of her voice as she whispered reassurances.

"Shh, shh," she hushed, her lips brushing against your temple. "You are safe with me. As long as you obey, you will never end up like them. Do you understand?"

You nodded weakly, the fight drained from you by your terror and her unyielding presence. Minthara smiled, a cruel, victorious smile, and continued to lead you back into the safety of the house. As you crossed the threshold, the grisly sights of the garden faded from view, but the memory of them remained, a chilling reminder of your place in Minthara’s world.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Mother Superior Shadowheart:

The dim light of the temple flickered as you slipped from Shadowheart's grasp, your heart pounding in your chest. The shadows that usually comforted you felt suffocating now, and an inexplicable urge to escape overwhelmed you. You didn't know why you needed to run, but the pull was irresistible, like a siren song luring you to freedom.

The more distance you put between yourself and the temple, the lighter you felt. The oppressive weight on your shoulders began to lift, and a clarity you hadn't known in months started to seep into your mind. You moved through the darkened hallways, past ancient statues and altars, each step bringing a sense of liberation.

Finally, you reached the edge of the temple, the threshold to the outside world just a few steps away. The moonlight bathed the entrance in a silvery glow, and you felt a wave of relief wash over you. Freedom was within your grasp. But as you lifted your foot to take that final step, a voice shattered the serene silence.

"Where do you think you're going?" Shadowheart's voice was panicked, her eyes wide with fear and confusion as she appeared before you, seemingly out of nowhere.

"I… I don't know," you stammered, the urge to run still strong within you. "It just felt right."

Shadowheart's expression softened, but her eyes remained filled with worry. "Please, come back to me," she pleaded, reaching out a hand. "You don't understand what's happening. You need to stay with me."

You hesitated, torn between the instinct to flee and the bond you shared with Shadowheart. You eyed her with confused caution as she stepped closer, her presence commanding yet desperate.

"We belong together," she insisted, her voice a mixture of urgency and affection.

The seconds stretched into an eternity as you stood on the brink of freedom, your mind waging a war with itself. Shadowheart's eyes bored into yours, her desperation palpable. She couldn't afford to lose you—not now, not ever.

Growing impatient, Shadowheart's demeanor shifted. She muttered an incantation under her breath, her fingers weaving a quick, intricate pattern in the air. You felt a wave of magic wash over you, and your vision blurred. Your legs gave out, and darkness claimed you before you could react.

When you regained consciousness, you found yourself back in your shared quarters, the familiar surroundings a stark contrast to the freedom you had nearly tasted. Shadowheart sat beside you, her face a mask of concern and relief. She had carried you back, her determination to keep you by her side evident in every action.

"You can't leave," she whispered, her voice breaking. "You belong with me. You belong to me."

You tried to sit up, but the remnants of the spell still weighed heavily on you. Shadowheart gently pushed you back down, her touch both tender and firm.

"Rest now," she urged. "You need to regain your strength."

As you lay there, exhaustion pulling you back into unconsciousness, you couldn't shake the feeling that something vital had been taken from you. The pull to escape still lingered, but for now, there was no running away. You were hers, bound by a connection that you would never understand.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

God of Ambition Gale:

The desire to reconnect with the mortal world had been growing within you for weeks, an insistent whisper in your mind that became impossible to ignore. The material plane called to you, a siren song of simpler times and fleeting pleasures. The idea of feeling the sun on your skin, of walking among ordinary people, filled you with a yearning that bordered on desperation.

You waited for a moment when Gale was deeply engrossed in his divine affairs, a rare instance when his attention was not focused on you. Slipping away from his grand palace, you moved quickly and silently, your heart pounding with both fear and excitement. The portal to the material plane shimmered ahead of you, a gateway to the world you once knew.

Just as you reached the portal, ready to step through and taste freedom once more, a voice, rich and resonant, stopped you in your tracks.

"Where do you think you are going?" Gale's tone was smooth, but there was an undercurrent of displeasure that sent a shiver down your spine. You turned slowly to face him, trying to muster a semblance of calm.

"I just wanted to see the mortal world again, to reconnect with the life I had before," you explained, your voice trembling slightly.

Gale's eyes darkened, a dangerous glint appearing in them. "Mortal life? Those lesser beings are beneath you now. You belong by my side, not mingling with them."

Frustration surged within you, a rebellion against the gilded cage you were trapped in. "I'm going, whether you like it or not," you declared, turning back towards the portal.

A dark chuckle echoed through the air, and Gale's presence seemed to fill the entire space. "Are you really trying to test my powers?" he asked, amusement and a hint of malice lacing his words.

Before you could take another step, the world around you shifted. In a blink, you found yourself back in Gale's throne room, chained to his godly throne. The chains were ornate and shimmering with an unearthly light, but they were unyielding. You pulled and twisted, trying to break free, but the more you struggled, the tighter they became, drawing you closer to Gale.

He sat on the throne, his gaze fixed on you with a mix of possessiveness and irritation.

"You cannot leave me," he said softly, his voice a velvet caress. "You are mine, bound to me in ways you cannot comprehend."

You continued to fight against the chains, your breath coming in ragged gasps, but it was futile. The chains tightened further, the metal biting into your skin, making escape impossible. Gale watched your struggle with a mixture of pity and amusement.

"Why do you resist?" he asked, leaning forward. "I have given you everything—power, immortality, a place by my side. Why do you long for the mundane, the ephemeral?"

"Because it's real," you whispered, tears of frustration and helplessness streaming down your face. "Because it's life."

Gale's expression softened slightly, but his resolve remained unyielding. He stood, his hand reaching out to gently lift your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"Your life is here now," he said firmly. "With me. Embrace it, or you will only find yourself in more pain."

The chains pulled you even closer to him, until you were practically in his lap, your body pressed against his. He held you there, his arms wrapping around you with a possessive tenderness that made your heart ache.

"You are mine," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. "Forever."

The reality of your situation settled over you like a suffocating blanket. No matter how much you longed for the mortal world, for the freedom to live as you once had, you were bound to Gale, his power and will inescapable. And as he held you close, whispering words of possession and eternity, you realized that your struggle was not just against the chains that bound you, but against the very essence of your existence by his side.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Ascended Astarion:

The grand hall of Astarion's palace was bathed in opulence, the glittering chandeliers casting a warm, inviting glow over the sea of influential nobles and highborn guests. The air was thick with the heady scent of fine wines and exotic perfumes, mingling with the sound of laughter and music. Astarion, now an ascended vampire lord, moved gracefully through the crowd, his every gesture a blend of charm and predatory grace. By his side, you played the role of his dark consort, your heart pounding with a mix of fear and determination.

Astarion's intention for the evening was clear: to ply his guests with drink and charm, loosening their tongues to reveal their most guarded secrets. His smile was disarming, his laughter infectious, and soon the nobles were clinking glasses, sharing confidences they would never dare speak in the light of day.

"Stay close," Astarion murmured in your ear as he stepped away to engage a prominent lord in conversation. You nodded, your mind racing. This was the moment you had been waiting for, the moment you had meticulously planned for weeks.

You slipped onto the lively dance floor, the music and swirling bodies providing the perfect cover. Your eyes scanned the crowd, seeking out the person you had chosen—a mortal who bore a striking resemblance to you. With a quick, practiced motion, you swapped overcoats, draping your ornate garment over their shoulders and taking their simpler attire.

Blending in with the guests, you made your way towards the exit, your heart pounding with each step. The freedom of the material plane called to you like a siren song, and the thought of finally escaping Astarion's gilded cage filled you with a desperate hope. As you approached the noble's carriage, you slipped inside, your breath catching in your throat.

But your relief was short-lived. Sitting opposite you, his eyes gleaming with amusement, was Astarion.

"And where do you think you are going?" he asked, his voice a silken purr.Panic surged through you, and you lunged for the door, but his hand shot out, grabbing your wrist with an unbreakable grip.

"Let me go!" you cried, but Astarion only chuckled, pulling you back into the carriage.

"I must admit, I'm impressed," he said, his tone one of mock admiration. "Such a clever little scheme. But did you truly think I would ever mistake that wretch for you?" His eyes bore into yours, his amusement fading to reveal a flicker of hurt. "You are mine. My dark consort."

"Spawn," you spat, the word filled with venom. "An imitation of your power, forever forced at your feet."

Astarion sighed, his interest in the conversation waning. "You will be a true vampire one day, once you learn to behave." His grip tightened on your wrist. "Clearly, you are in need of more discipline."

With a swift motion, he pulled you from the carriage, leading you back into the palace. The revelry continued, the guests oblivious to your plight as Astarion guided you to his throne. He sat down, pulling you onto his lap with a possessive grip. His lips brushed against your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.

You blushed, flustered by the intimacy of his touch. You hated being put on display like this, a taste of your punishment later, you assumed. Though as his lips trailed up your neck, leaving a burning sensation in their wake, your resolve began to waver. The room seemed to close in around you, the sounds of the party fading into a distant hum.

"You belong to me," Astarion murmured against your skin, his breath warm and tantalizing. "And you will learn to accept it."

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Naturist Halsin:

You had been planning your escape from Halsin’s grove for a few weeks now. You could not deny the serene beauty of the druid’s sanctuary had been a temporary refuge, but you knew you couldn't stay. The dense forest that surrounded the grove seemed to close in on you, a reminder that this was not your home. You longed for freedom, for the open road and the chance to leave the past behind.

Tonight, the moonlight cast an ethereal glow over the grove, illuminating the path you intended to take. You moved silently through the shadows, careful not to disturb the sleeping druids and the wildlife. Your heart pounded in your chest, a mixture of fear and excitement as you neared the edge of the grove.

But as you stepped beyond the protective circle of ancient trees, a deep voice cut through the night air, freezing you in your tracks.

"And where do you think you are going?"

You turned slowly, dread pooling in your stomach as you faced Halsin. The druid stood tall and imposing, his eyes glinting with a mixture of amusement and disappointment.

"I—I was just going for a walk," you stammered, trying to sound casual.

Halsin chuckled softly, the sound rich and deep. "A walk, you say? At this hour, and with all your belongings packed? Interesting choice."

You swallowed hard, realizing how transparent your lie had been. Halsin's presence was overwhelming, a force of nature unto itself. He stepped closer, his gaze never leaving yours.

"Do you truly think you can deceive me, my heart?" he asked, his tone gentle but firm. "I have watched over you since you arrived here. I know every thought, every plan that crosses your mind."

You tried to back away, but Halsin moved with surprising swiftness, his large hands gently but firmly grasping your wrists. His touch was warm, almost soothing, but the strength behind it was undeniable.

"You cannot run from what binds you here," he murmured, his voice a soothing lull. "Let me show you."

Before you could protest, Halsin began to chant in a language you did not understand. His voice was low and melodic, each word resonating with ancient power. You felt a strange heat building where his fingers gripped your wrists, the warmth intensifying into a searing pain.

You cried out, but Halsin's grip was unyielding. The pain grew, spreading up your arms, as if fire were coursing through your veins. You struggled, attempting to yank your wrists away but it was futile. Halsin was unyielding. The incantation reached its climax, and the burning sensation became unbearable.

Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the pain ceased. Halsin released your wrists, and you staggered back, gasping for breath. You looked down and saw intricate floral patterns etched into your skin, glowing faintly in the moonlight.

"What have you done?" you demanded, your voice trembling with fear and anger. Halsin smiled, a serene and knowing smile.

"I have bound you to me," he said simply. "These markings are a part of you now. They will keep you safe, and they will ensure you do not stray far from the protection of the grove, from me,"

You took another step back, turning to run from him but with a mere motion of Halsin’s finger, you felt an invisible force pull you forward. An unseen chain bound to your wrists. You stumbled, falling to your knees before him. The realization hit you like a physical blow—you were bound to him, unable to leave his side.

"Why?" you whispered, tears of frustration and helplessness welling in your eyes. "Why are you doing this?"

Halsin knelt before you, his hand gently cupping your cheek. A thumb brushing a wayward tear from your cheek.

"Because you are important to me, and to the balance of this grove," he said softly. "I cannot let you go, not when you are still in need of guidance and protection."

His touch was tender, and despite your anger and fear, a part of you found comfort in it.

"Stay," he murmured, his voice like a warm blanket enveloping you. "Let me show you the beauty of this world, the peace that can be found in nature’s embrace."

You had no choice but to obey. Bound by his magic, you were a prisoner of his will. Yet as you looked into his eyes, you saw a deep well of kindness and a genuine desire to protect. Perhaps, in time, you would come to understand his reasons - he hoped.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Hehehehehehehe hope you all enjoyed it ! - Seluney xox

[the-astral-sea]

Morning Wood (Gale x fem!Tav) (smut)

18+ I decided to write something vulgar and smutty and I’ve never written anything like this before so I hope it’s good. It’s a bit filthy and not a long read, but I enjoyed testing my writing abilities with something new :)

Set after the defeat of Ketheric, it’s Gales turn to collect the fire wood before hitting the road. Tav wakes him up, and things progress from there. Like, really progress.

The air was thick with anticipation. After destroying Ketheric and claiming his stone, the Shadow Cursed Lands could finally begin to heal. The birds could finally return, flowers and trees could finally grow, life could flourish once again and the shell of Moonrise could finally be restored to it’s former glory, standing as a beacon of hope and serving as a place of healing and worship to Selune.

The battle last night was long, strenuous and surprising, but well fought and well won nonetheless. Tav was covered in cuts and bruises, as was everyone else in the party - but it didn’t matter. Ketheric’s defeat and the promise of a better future was worth every drop of blood, every aching muscle and every tear shed.

As morning came around, the camp slowly came to life. Each individual a mixture of happy, exhausted and anxious about the road ahead to Baldurs Gate. “I can’t wait to see this place once Thaniel has healed the land” Karlach sighed longingly, looking over to Tav who had just stumbled out of her tent with a smile. “It’s going to be beautiful. I can’t wait until we no longer need to light fires in the morning, it’s so strange how the darkness tricks us into thinking it’s constantly night time here” she replied, “speaking of which, it’s Gale’s turn to collect the morning wood. Is he up yet?” her voice was groggy and she rubbed her eyes, trying hard to wake herself up and plan for the day ahead. “Not yet Solider, it might be worth giving him a nudge. There’s no time for a lie-in unfortunately”. Tav obliged and yawned as she plodded over to Gales tent, still in her nightgown, her hair wild and makeup smeared after failing to remove it the night before. Her hands carefully untied one of the bonds keeping his tent closed as she made her way inside, revealing a peacefully sleeping wizard with one hand on his chest, the other still grasping at a half opened book. She smiled down at the sight. He looked so at peace it was almost a shame to disturb him, but things needed to be done no matter how cute he looked tangled in his sheets. So focused on his face and the way he smiled as he slept, Tav didn’t even notice the distinct bulge lower down in his blanket. Had she payed attention, she may have worded her next sentence a bit more mindfully.

“Gale? Wake up, you need to sort out morning wood” her voice was soft and calm, so she didn’t understand why he awoke with such a shocked expression and immediately turned bright red. The usually chatty Gale stared up at her with wide eyes and no words, shuffling slightly in his bedroll. “What? It’s your turn, get up” she chuckled, ruffling his hair and sitting cross legged next to him, still completely oblivious to the hard situation between his legs. “Oh! Right, yes. I will do that shortly, I just need a moment” he finally stuttered, adjusting himself in a poor attempt to conceal the awkward truth. Tav, however, still had no idea why he was acting so strangely and rolled her eyes before continuing, “There’s no time for a lie-in, you should really get up now sir” she jested, noticing him turn red again at the nickname ‘sir’.

“Tav… I’m already up, if you know what I mean. I could really use a few minutes” Gale sighed with a defeated tone, not knowing how else to approach the situation to the clearly confused woman sat next to him. It was only then that she let her eyes wander to the rest of his body and finally understood why he seemed so flustered. The large lump in his sheets was a dead giveaway to his behaviour; it was now Tav’s turn to have her cheeks shift to a rosey hue. “Oh my, I’m sorry. I’m still half asleep myself, I didn’t even think” she chuckled awkwardly, still glancing down at the twitching shape lurking beneath the covers. She should’ve looked away but her eyes refused to move, they were transfixed, curious and eager. Her mind had often wondered what Gale looked like in all his glory, she’d desired him for quite some time now and their close, flirty bond had been building up to a more intimate understanding of one another for weeks. “You definitely have nothing to feel awkward about, I’ll tell you that much” she blushed, ripping her gaze away from his cock to meet his eyes. His eyes that were now darkened with desire and glimmer of danger. He chuckled in response then repeated himself again, not wanting to assume anything or cross any boundaries, “why thank you, I just need a few minutes to calm down and I’ll be right out” there was a hint of hope in his tone that Tav couldn’t quite ignore. Looking at him in this state was causing quite the stir, and it was clear that his embarrassment had shifted to lustful confidence at her reaction. “You know, I could help you out with that” she could hardly believe herself, the words slipped out of her mouth without a thought, it was as if she’d completely forgotten how to filter herself. Who could blame her? There was an undeniable charm to Gale, not to mention an undeniable attraction between the two. The way he tried to hide his desires only made him more alluring, and Tav wanted nothing more than to unleash him. At her words, he smiled coyly and motioned for Tav to come closer, holding eye contact as she floated towards him like a ghost. He rested his hand on the back of her head, brushing over her tousled hair before holding her cheek as he moved in for a kiss. It was slow and passionate, filled with weeks worth of longing. Tav’s hand moved down his body under the sheets and her mind was set alight with the feeling of his warm, soft skin under her fingers. His body was toned and hairier than she’d imagined, and it drove her wild realising that her fantasies were about to come true as she continued to work her way down him.

“Are you sure? We can talk about this more before we dive into anything if you’d li-“ his words were cut short by Tav leaning in for another kiss, her movements intentional, tailored for his pleasure.

Gale let out a soft grunt as her fingers wrapped around his rock hard shaft, it’d been well over a year since he’d felt the touch of a woman and he could barely keep himself together as her hand began to slowly pump up and down. “Fuck” he moaned, pulling the sheets aside to reveal his entire body, smiling up at Tav who let out a delighted gasp at the sight. “I want you, Tav. I want to see you, touch you, feel you. I have done for weeks” he stifled between breaths, toying with the tied straps of her nightgown to expose her nude form. His cock tensed at the sight of her, the way her body curved in all the right places and the revelation that she wasn’t wearing any underwear. She moved her hand away from his body slowly, but instead of climbing on top of it, she put his cock into her mouth and circled the tip with her tongue, lapping up the precum like nectar. Through soft moans, he pleaded for her to fuck him; it was music to her ears. But she wasn’t done yet. She wanted to watch him struggle to hold himself together for a while longer. After all, she was nothing if not a perfectionist and the way her mouth moved around him had him struggling for air, eyes rolling back, hands grasping at the sheets next to him. Just when she thought he was reaching his limit, she licked up his length and stopped.

“What’s that? You want to lose yourself inside of me?” She enquired innocently, looking up at him doe eyed. “Yes. Please, fucking hells, yes” he grunted, grabbing her by the throat and pulling her in for a desperate, sloppy kiss as she lowered herself onto his member, straddling him with ease, resulting in sounds of pure ecstasy as she slowly worked her hips to take more and more of him in. The feeling was unparalleled, the way he twitched and thrusted into her was nothing short of flawless. Their bodies moved together in perfect synchronicity, creating a harmony of moans and muttered “fuck”s. They didn’t even think about where they were or who could hear them at this point, this had been building up for so long now and they could no longer deny themselves the pleasures the flesh and soul combining. The way they fucked was an art - no painter or sculptor could ever compete.

Gale, who was usually so composed, had transformed into a wild animal on the hunt. His body was glistening with sweat and his big brown eyes had shifted from their usual warm gaze to something much darker and sinful. He flipped Tav onto her back effortlessly and pinned her legs over her head as he thrusted deep inside of her, causing her to whine in pained bliss. She was wet, hot and shaking at this point, moaning freely without a care in the world as she took every inch with a smile on her face. Gale couldn’t remember the last time he’d experienced anything like this; perhaps he never had. He had never fucked anyone so recklessly or felt anything near as intensely. He had slept with a goddess before, but Tav made him feel like a God.

Tav never expected him to be like this in bed, so primal and hungry. Miles away from the perfect gentleman she’d pinned him as. For a moment, she was worried he would rip her in half with the sheer size of his cock, it was thick and much larger than she’d dreamt, and hurt like hell but was balanced with bliss. Suddenly the enchanted briefs made a lot of sense. He thrusted into her with skill and rhythm, whilst his hand circled softly over her clit as the other pinned her into position. It was transcendent. She let out a final moan before the pleasure pushed her over the edge, her walls clenching around him tightly. She looked like an angel, eyes flittering back, body jerking, sweat shining on her breasts. Feeling and seeing her finish on his cock was enough to make Gale release, pulsating a heavy warm load inside of her, feeling lightheaded in response to his overwhelming orgasm. Immediately, he leaned in for a kiss and pulled her into a cuddle, heart pounding and head racing at the realisation that they’d finally slept together after so much yearning.

A few moments passed in silence, both of them too stunned to speak until Gale finally broke “you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that”. Tav giggled in response before finding her words, “trust me, I understand”. They laid together for a while longer before getting dressed and deciding to face the rest of the camp, hoping to god that nobody overheard their activities.

However, they weren’t exactly careful or quiet, and Karlach refused to make eye contact when the pair left the tent. Shadowheart was the colour of red wine, “I, uh, sent Astarion to get the wood instead.”

“Thanks…” Gale stuttered.

[featherwurm]

I'm going to get a lot more personal on here than I usually do:

Baulder's Gate 3, and especially Karlach, make me feel seen in a way no price of media I've ever engaged with before has. It's a big reason why I love it and why it's sticking with me like it is. I too am a big, loud, enthusiastic woman who says out of pocket shit. I have a heavy internal dialogue with myself. I have a temper, I'm bisexual, I love cute shit. I endured years of being utterly touch starved. I love sex and food and being alive...

I also have cancer; it's Follicular B-Cell Lymphoma. I was diagnosed in 2020 when it had reached stage 3A. It's currently under control after chemo* and I'm living my life normally. But while it's a very treatable kind of cancer, it's not fully curable**. There's nothing in me they can remove (it's my whole lymphatic system that's broken) and no drug currently that can wholly knock it out. It's cause is not known (genetically or environmentally), and its unusual for this type of cancer to affect someone as young as I am (I was diagnosed at 35 - it's much more common 65+***). So every three months I go into oncology and they check my blood and symptoms and see if I'm doing ok. I get imaging and biopsies occasionally too. This will go on until I'm not ok (hopefully a long time yet). I'll have to have still manageable but more invasive treatment the next time around. It's a well researched kind of cancer, and my oncologist hopes that in the next decade there may be some more permanent cure for it.

So you can see where I'm going with this. When you hit Karlach's monologue after killing Gortash, I've never felt better understood. I have no one to blame for my condition, no revenge arc of course, but the very same fear, frustration, grief, and anger are all things my husband has heard from me. I've never seen a more beautiful and moving and real exploration of the topic that resonates with me so meaningfully out of a piece of fiction that I love. Béart's performance is amazing - capturing a whole spectrum of emotion.

Karlach's story is absolutely not incomplete as written, confirmed by both the devs and Sam Béart - a terminal condition is just that. You don't get to fix or save her, you get to go with her through tremendous trial and difficulty. If you want to continue that story in your mind that's great (I know I'm eager to do so, for my own personal encouragement if nothing else) but on it's own it's a whole story about coming to terms with something that doesn't have a quick and easy little fetch-quest resolution.

So - every time I see another whinging post/essay/bitchfest about how her story feels "unfinished" or "incomplete" or "has too much cut content" you can see why I might take it a bit personally - knowing that the life I have, the easy solutions I don't get, and the frustration and grief I live with is seen as incorrect and wrong and bad writing makes me a little pissed off. If you think the story is incomplete as told and think a 'third engine upgrade' is missing you completely missed the point.

Karlach doesn't get a simple easy ending because people like me**** don't get that either. And like my husband and the others who love me you can choose to follow that story anyway. And that's fucking beautiful.

*Yeah dealing with cancer and undergoing chemo during a pandemic was really a peach.

**XKCD hits the nail on the head here and here.

***Current treatments have good decade long prognoses... but saying 'you'll probably be fine for the next 10 years' is a lot different at 35 than it is at 65.

****And believe me I've heard from a lot of chronic/terminally ill folks who love the game for the way it represents these things and feel the same, with her Gale, and Shadowheart too.

[freaky-deaky-cookies]

Hi can I make a request I totally understand if you don’t want to write about this. I wasn’t sure if you take angst request like this so im sorry if I’ve sent this and you dont take requests like this. My request is for bg3 companions with a tav who is kind of a shell of a person. Like a demon could take their soul and they would fine with because they see no use for it. They just sort of go through life and are just waiting for their death. This is due to their tragic backstory that I won’t go into detail about but there is themes of repeated sa involved (you don’t have to mention this if you don’t feel comfortable) this request is based off of my oc which I hold very close to my heart and really just looking for some comfort right now. Like I said tho if this isn’t something you are comfortable with I completely understand.

BG3 Companions x Tav who is an empty shell (Comfort HCs)

Gale

Gale is a lot more perceptive than he appears to be

He notices the void of sadness behind Tav’s eyes

If Gale felt a genuine concern for Tav, he would ask to speak to them in private

When he approached them, he would not demand attention. Instead, he’d sit quietly beside them, offering only the weight of his presence. He wouldn’t try to fix them, but simply be there, sharing the silent knowledge that sometimes, just being was enough.

Wyll

Wyll would approach the situation quietly and calmly

He wants to ensure Tav knows that he – and the others – are a safe place for them to feel whatever they need to 

Offers a listening ear and only comments if asked

“I know what it feels like to think you’ve lost it all,” he’d begin, his gaze gentle. “But I want you to know something. You don’t have to carry this alone. You have people here who care. And that’s worth something, even when it feels like it isn’t.”

Astarion

He understands, he really and truly does

He himself has been there hell, he is still trying to dig his own way out of the void

Astarion was not a man accustomed to offering comfort. He was far more at ease with sharp words and cynical humor than with gentle reassurances. But with Tav, it was different. When he saw the emptiness in their eyes, he felt an instinct he couldn’t ignore—a tenderness that surprised him, even though he would never admit it aloud.

“You know," he’d start, his voice unusually soft, "you’re not as invisible as you think. I see you. I know what it feels like to be hollow—nothing left but the shell of a person. But you’re still here. Still standing. And that counts for something."

Lae’zel

Comfort is not her strong suit, like at all

While she may not take the most gentle approach, she respect Tav like no other and does not with to bring them any unwanted harm

She didn’t have the words to soothe the soul, but she had something she could give: strength. Her voice would be sharp, but it was clear she was trying to reach through to them, to remind them of the warrior they had the potential to be.

She wouldn’t coddle Tav, but her presence would be one of unwavering support.

Halsin

(I believe he would be the best to go to when faced with anything troubling)

His own heart breaks at the sight of someone he holds dear in so much pain

While Tav does not show it, he knows them well enough to see through that facade

“You are not beyond healing, Tav,” he’d say, his voice like the rustle of leaves in the wind. “It may not be quick, and it may not be easy, but you can grow from this. And I’ll be here to help you, however long it takes.”

Shadowheart

Shadowheart understood loss in a way that few could. Having sacrificed so much in the name of her faith, she had learned the deep ache of feeling lost and broken, even as she clung to hope. When she saw Tav, something in her recognized the emptiness—the hollow look in their eyes that mirrored the darkness she had once lived in.

Shadowheart would not push Tav to speak, but she would stay close.

Jaheira

Jaheira wouldn’t offer empty platitudes or tell them to ‘snap out of it.’ Instead, her words would be measured, rooted in the kind of wisdom that comes only with age and experience.

Jaheira wouldn’t rush toward Tav or overwhelm them with too many words. Instead, she’d give them space but remain near enough to show she was there, a steady presence in the quiet of the camp. Her approach would be measured, as she always was, and her tone would be gentle, but there would be no hiding the firmness of her resolve.

Mithara

When she saw Tav—someone who had already resigned themselves to the idea of being worthless, someone who had already given up on their own soul—it hit Minthara harder than she would admit. It was a reminder of the darkness she had lived in and the toll it took.

“I won’t pretend I have the answers. And I won’t ask you to simply believe in something when you don’t,” Minthara would say, her voice tinged with the knowledge of her own mistakes. “But I can tell you this: You don’t have to walk through it alone. If you want me to stay, I will. If you want silence, I can give you that too. I am here.”

She would stay by their side, offering her presence more than anything. It wasn’t a grand gesture, and it wasn’t about trying to force Tav to snap out of it or seek some grand redemption.

Karlach

"Hey," she’d say, sitting down beside Tav and offering her broad, calloused hand. "You’re not in this alone, alright? I’ve been to places where I didn’t think I’d make it through. But I did. And I don’t care how long it takes. You’re going to make it too. You don’t have to be alone in this. Not while I’m around."

Her words would be warm, her fire like a shield around them. She’d hold Tav’s hand and, even if they didn’t respond, she wouldn’t leave. Her presence was a quiet promise that they didn’t need to do this by themselves.

[normal-thoughts-official]

Another interesting parallel between Wyll and Gale is that they have both lived quite some time without any fucking privacy.

I don't need to elaborate on Wyll because, you know, Mizora. But also, at the Stormshore Tabernacle, Gale says that Mystra is omniscient. This implies that throughout their entire relationship, she always knew what Gale was thinking - what he thought and felt about her, every time he lied to her, whenever he was upset with her, every less-than-amenable-to-her-wishes thought he ever had. It's enough to drive someone mad, when you think about it. How much did Gale fruitlessly police himself when it came to how he thought of Mystra, afraid that he would disappoint or anger her? How much did he beat himself up over his own thoughts and feelings, knowing he couldn't hide it from her? Did he ever fear that she would use any of his thoughts to hurt him, the way Mizora obviously does with Wyll? Do they bond over that?

And in turn, how would this affect their relationship? Wyll has never been in one before and has been quite starved for any intimacy for the longest time; all he had was Mizora fucking with him 24/7. This means that, functionally, he hasn't had any lasting ties to anyone who wasn't capable of reading his thoughts and knowing where he was at all times in the last 7 years. And god knows how long Gale's been with Mystra, as well

Do they subconsciously expect the other to know what they're thinking? If the other ever asks, do they automatically tense up, assuming it's some sort of test or that a punishment (for Wyll) or disappointment (for Gale) is coming? If the other says what they're feeling, do they register that as an order? Is it hard for them to remember to tell each other certain things, because they cannot in fact read minds, at least not after they lose the tadpoles? (That's another thing too, they HAVE been able to read each other's minds from the moment they first met).

I've always felt like communication issues would be the #1 problem in their relationship, because, as much as they're both quite direct and open about their feelings, they also feel the need to constantly put up a front and prove themself to their lover. But this adds a new layer to it - unintentionally keeping each other in the dark about certain things, really basic things, because they're unused to having to say them out loud. And potentially being upset that they have to say difficult things out loud, as if it's some exercise in humiliation, which it likely was with Mizora/Mystra. Potentially assuming the other did something they weren't okay with knowingly, because that was always the case before. Almost guaranteed to being so out of practice having to voice their feelings to be understood that they don't know where to begin, or what to say, and feel stupid over it.

Of course, it helps that the other is going through the exact same thing. I'm sure they can figure that one out, as soon as they can express everything I mentioned above.

But it does make for an interesting dynamic in their early days, and one of the many facets of their communication issues. Also one of the many ways in which they can heal together from their respective traumas, so different in nature yet so similar in effects over their psyches.

[enigmachine69]

Katniss' love for Peeta has taught her to understand and forgive her mother for emotionally abandoning them when her father died.

Katniss has always resented her mother for disappearing, leaving them to starve in her grief. And she has all the right to think, and feel that. She was eleven and selling baby clothes in the rain, about to die of starvation. She was signing up for tessarae the minute she was qualified. She was hunting in the woods as a child. She was pushed into immense responsibility because her mother no longer had the will to live--despite her and Prim still being alive. She believed that relationship was severed and she saw her mom as weak, incompetent, and unloving.

But she became her mother when she was separated from Peeta. She, point blank, said she lost the will to live. Even if Prim was still there, and her mother, and Gale, and the country was relying on her to get them through a revolution.

She talked about how she never understood why people stay and watch their loved ones die on the table instead of going away...she did that with Peeta at the end of the first games.

She said that if she knew for sure that Peeta was dead, she would just disappear in the woods and never look back. She was also willing to abandon them.

It's slowly sinking in but it was such an important detail how, after she saw Peeta return to district 12 in the last chapter, one of the first things she did was call her mother. Process her grief with someone else, made sure she wasn't alone. Because that's probably when it all clicked for her: Peeta came back, her father could not. She suffered like her mother, but not completely like her mother.

She said the reason why she hasn't taken her own life back at 12 was because she was waiting for something. Peeta, like he always has, was giving her hope. Her mother did not have that. Nor did she have anyone to share that grief with. No family, no friends, and her children were too young.

When Peeta came back, Katniss realized that she just went through what her mom went through but with a better ending. She understood and felt what it was like to paralyzed with grief despite people relying on you... When Peeta came back, Katniss was ready to heal. Katniss was ready to forgive, not just her mother, but also herself.

[fennellwitch]

Enough / Gale x Tav

Pairing: Gale x female!Tav (no class/race mentioned)

Warning: NSFW 18+ Angsty romance that becomes angsty smut, fairly vanilla- oral (Tav receiving); penetration; sickening displays of romantic affection

Word Count: 3k

Summary: Gale and Tav are equally filled with self doubt but they’re determined to make each know their worth. Romance, angst, needy shagging

Set somewhere around the end of Act 2 after the romance scene, but under the pretence neither Gale nor Tav have admitted they love each other yet.

Author’s note: This is my first soirée into fanfic writing so if you don’t like it, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know. Let me live in bliss for a while longer!! I once swore I’d never write fanfic but here I am, hopelessly in love with that dumb fucking wizard (and at my ripe old age too, embarrassing stuff).

“Unfortunately Gale, it would appear I’ve fallen head over heels for you. Trust me, I’d prefer it if I hadn’t.” Tav joked, trying desperately to maintain her air of nonchalance. It was proving to be nigh on impossible, nothing about how she felt about Gale Dekarios was nonchalant. She was feeling altogether too chalant about the whole ordeal. Her sudden, unexpected dalliance with the wizard was setting her teeth on edge, he so much as looked at her from across camp and she felt like she’d swallowed a nest full of angry bees. Feelings like this only ended one way, she knew from experience, it was too much, too fast. She was too much. Whether it was the orb, the tadpoles or just Gale inevitably growing bored of her, she would find herself heartbroken and alone again, mourning a love lost. Like an idiot.

Gale had disregarded the jovial tone of her voice, instead he looked at her confused, stuck in a bizarre nebulous space he had created for himself somewhere between obnoxiously cocksure, and sickeningly anxious. A duality few could ever truly garner. Tav understood, she found herself in her very own version of uncertainty frequently, especially now so many people relied on her. She was happy for the company, and happy to feel needed but by the Gods it made her anxious.  

“I can be better.” Gale said finally, with an ironically confident nod. “What you’re seeing now is not a fair portrayal of my capabilities. You know I was so good. Incredible. The power I had- well, you wouldn’t even believe it. I am sorry this is the me you got to meet, but I promise I can be that version of me again. The crown will fix it, it’ll fix,” he paused. “Me. I want to be the best version of myself for you. I know I can be, with time.” He was speaking too fast, stumbling over his words like even as he spoke Tav might just disappear into the ether.

Instead, she remained, staring at him with big, glassy eyes pushing down tears that had begun making her sinus’ ache.  

All that self-doubt he was so terrible at hiding; that bubbled so closely at the surface, well here it was on full display and for Tav, it was like looking in a mirror. She took both of his hands in her own, squeezing his fingers gently. All she had ever wanted was to feel good enough, she couldn’t stand the thought that someone she loved...  

Loved?  

Fuck it, yeah loved. She could wake up in the morning an illithid, some tenticled monstrosity with no free will, or end up with a goblin’s arrow through her neck, she could fall off a cliff, or get mauled by an owlbear.

So, fuck it, fuck nonchalance.

She loved him and by the Gods she wouldn’t let him feel like she had, she would never even give him the chance to doubt just how truly and utterly loved he was.  “You are more than enough already.” She said simply. She wanted him to be able to sense her feelings for him, she certainly felt like they were radiating from her bright and obvious but he just looked away. He wouldn’t argue, he didn’t believe she would lie to him, perhaps she did think he was enough but she was duly misinformed. “Gale,” Her hand reached up to his chin, tilting his face toward her so she could meet his eye. “You could wake up tomorrow unable to summon so much as a spark from these fingertips and I would still think you were the most magnificent creature I’d ever laid eyes upon. I don’t need Gale of Waterdeep renowned wizard extraordinaire. I just want Gale Dekarios. My Gale. This sweet, ridiculous man sat right here, who is somehow utterly charming and completely tactless, who talks too much and tells terrible jokes. I could listen to you forever Gale. You have captured me mind, body and soul. I am transfixed by you, you utter, utter fool. How could I want anything more?”  

For once Gale was speechless. He opened his mouth to speak but no sounds came out and Tav didn’t have anything left to say. She was already laid bare.  

Instead of scrambling for more unnecessary words she kissed him, or he kissed her, they were unsure who leant into who, perhaps it was simply the gravity of their need for each other that pulled them together. It was a hard kiss, desperate, full of want, and relief. When Tav pulled back she didn’t go far, Gale sighed deeply against her. “I love you.” He whispered, his breath hot against her face. Her eyes closed as their foreheads touched.  

“I love you too.”  

The next kiss was slow, still needy, but savoured. Neither wanted to pull away, it took lack of oxygen to force them apart.  

Tav found herself inching closer and closer to him, her hands trailed his collarbone and chest. He began casting, but she put a hand over his, stopping him. “No,” She said, “No weave, no illusions, I just want you, Gale.”

His eyes shone with tears, but he swallowed hard and pushed them down. Instead he threw her a playful grin. “Not even mage hand?”  

“Not even mage hand.” Tav replied, before raising her eyebrow in an exaggerated ‘I’m thinking about it face’. “Maybe another night.” She purred, planting a kiss on his cheek. Gale chuckled deep in his chest, and the sound filled Tav with the warmth of a golden, sunny day. She realised in that moment that she would do anything to hear that laugh. She wanted to hear it every day of her life. If she did one good thing with her existence it would be making this wizard smile.  

They lay back, laughing as they got tangled in blankets and bedrolls. “How many could you possibly need?”  Gale laughed.

“I get cold! We can’t all conjure fire.”  

“You think that’s what I’m doing? I’m not... inside a tent?”  He asked with a baffled, incredulous tone.

Tav thought about it for a second before realising what she must have just sounded like. “Fucking hell, I’m degree educated!” She laughed.  

“Remind me to burn that certificate, inside a small, flammable den of course.”  

“Shut up.”  She rolled her eyes, before giggling once more.

They kept laughing as they found one another’s mouths again, peppering each other with soft, playful kisses. His fingers played with the hem of her shirt, stealing quick touches of her skin beneath the black cloth. She took it from him, yanking it over her head. His eyes scanned her form, it wasn’t the first time he had seen her topless but he still took the time to drink her in.

“Wow.” He breathed, seemingly to himself, the smile that spread across Tav’s lips could have made men go into battle.  

Gale bent over her, placing another long, hot kiss on her mouth. She could hear the static coming from his fingertips before she felt it. “Gale.” She warned, her voice low and disapproving.  

“Fine, fine. Just plain old me it is then. You’re a glutton for punishment, you know? You’ve seen what I can show you Tav, that’s just the start.”  

“I’d like to start with you. Gods forbid I want to give my full attention solely to the man I have professed to love.”  

“Say it again.”  

“Love. I love you, Gale.”  

He groaned deep in his throat and in the increasingly dark tent his orb pulsed with purple light.

“I love you.” She said again, she felt his smile against her skin between every kiss that he trailed her jaw and neck, across her collarbones and shoulders- slow and precise.

“Who needs Goddesses?” He murmured against her and maybe she made a noise that perhaps she would have found embarrassing once but not here, not with Gale.

He didn’t need magic for his touch to send chills through her, wherever he touched goosebumps appeared. His fingers ran up her sides lingering as he traced the curve of her breasts and found their way down her front, over her chest bone, her peaked nipples, down her stomach to rest happily back on her hips.

He slunk down, placing long kisses across her body as he did, and yanking at her waistband, bringing her trousers down with him. He undressed her deftly, with the efficiency of a man who knew he may be on borrowed time.

As he parted her thighs, he looked up at her with dark, needy eyes, wide with desire. She had never needed someone more in her life. Her fingers gently combed through his hair. As if she had wanted to appear nonchalant, it was laughable! As if she wasn’t vibrating with want, so utterly and irrevocably desperate for his touch, his tongue, for his sweet words that filled her with warmth, and the scratch of his beard between her thighs that filled her with fire.

She wanted to feel him in the deepest parts of her, wanted to be full of him so intensely she ceased to know where she ended and he began. She looked into those sorrowful brown eyes and wished she could say all of this aloud but a pit in her stomach opened that told her to stop, what if he didn’t feel the same way? She was being too much again, too intense, too needy. Later she would recognise how silly that anxiety was, especially in the position they were in. After everything that had been said that night. Confessions of love on both of their lips. How silly she was.

His chin rested on her thigh, and a smile spread across his lips. “You are so beautiful.” He said simply, and Tav wasn’t sure whether to moan or cry, or both. She didn’t have time to decide as he ran his tongue against her sending a current through her with an intensity she had long thought impossible.

She gasped as he gracefully used his tongue to spread her, running it between her folds to reach her clit. He lapped at it, each little gasp, each stifled moan willing him on, until she was whining his name. He pulled back, teasing her, desperate to see that face again, this time looking down at him with pure ravenous hunger. He couldn’t help the smile that played on his lips, couldn’t help the satisfaction that spread through his chest. He decided in that moment there wasn’t a thing he wouldn’t do to have this woman say his name like that everyday of his life.

Her fingers still in his hair tightened willing him on, and as he returned to his rightful place he felt them close into a fist pulling deliciously painfully.

He pressed a finger against her, teasing her again and she moaned in want. “Please.” She whimpered. “Gale please.” Even as much as he was enjoying making her wait, he was still only a man, and even his self restraint had its limits. His finger slid into her with ease, and he felt her immediately tighten against him, he groaned against her clit and her whole body shook. She watched in delight as he undid the buttons of his trousers and pulled out his cock pumping it steadily in his hand unable to resist her any longer.

As she watched him in lustful fascination she felt the familiar pressure, the heat, her whole body tensed in anticipation. “Faster.” She breathed and dutifully he did as he was told. His name fell from her lips as she reached the precipice and tumbled over it. He pulled back looking decidedly pleased with himself. In her pleasure addled delirium she yanked him up, stripping the shirt off him and placing a hard, desperate kiss to his mouth, her hands clumsily exploring his bare chest. She pulled him down toward her, his mouth trailing after hers just as desperate.

He fumbled with his trousers, kicking them off with clumsy haste; her hands immediately found his cock. She didn’t have his patience. As she pumped his breath got more and more erratic, his kisses more and more sloppy. “I need you.” He whimpered, his voice devilishly deep.

“I’m yours.” She replied simply, her own voice echoing his needy lust.

Her back arched as he entered her, willing him deeper, she wasn’t used to taking someone so big without resistance or pain. A wave of sadness washed over her that perhaps she had never truly felt desire, but it was quickly shooed away by relief. Relief that here he was, perhaps it was the lust talking but she never wanted this night to end, never wanted to be parted from him again. She wanted to tell him, to tell him what he had come to mean to her this past few weeks, how she never wanted to be without him but all she could muster was a whined “don’t stop” as her fingernails dug into his back.

Gale wanted to take his time, wanted to feel her inch by inch, warm and wet and tight, quivering and pulsing for him but the moment he entered her all thought left his mind. He wanted to stay this way forever, wanted to wrap her in his arms and never let go. He wanted to keep her safe and happy, so content, he wanted to wake up with his head on her chest, her fingers playing with his hair. He wanted to make her laugh, wanted to hear about her dreams, to wipe away her tears when she cried, to wash her clothes and make her dinner.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, bringing him in, pulling him deeper, he couldn’t help the moan that escaped from him lips and he buried his face in her hair breathing her in. She clawed at his back and it drew more noise from him, every sound made her clench firmer around him. If she wanted to hear him so she would. Whatever she wanted he would provide. Whatever her desire he would supply.

He slowed as his hand fell to her clit, and her volume rose, he wanted to hear her scream out his name, wanted to feel her climax around his cock, feel it drip down his shaft. His fingers worked fast and her nails sunk deeper into his back, he hissed and she released her grip. “No,” he groaned, “don’t stop.” She bit her lip and her nails dug deep as she felt her pleasure rise again.

He felt her convulse around him, as her muscles spasmed and he grinned keeping his rhythm constant and measured. It wasn’t long until he got his wish, his name flew from her mouth again and again. They would have some awkward complaints about the noise in the morning that was for sure, but for now neither of them cared. Tav wanted the world to hear how he made her feel, and more than that she wanted him to hear it.

Her legs found their way back around his waist and as she rolled through her orgasm she pulled him toward her, taking him fully in one swift, deft movement. She pushed a hand against his chest. “Let me get on top.” She panted and they rolled over, not breaking from each other.

She wanted him to finish, wanted to feel it fill her up, wanted to give him what he had given her, twice over. She got to her toes, and he moaned at the sight watching as she bounced on his cock, fast and deep. His hands rested on her ass giving her balance; his eyes darted between the sight of her sliding up and down his cock, her bouncing tits and the look of pure, unadulterated want on her face. He wouldn’t last much longer. “I’m yours.” She told him. “I’m yours. Heart, soul, body.” That was all he could take, he came hard, this time it was her name that rang through the air. He pulled her down toward him so her chest was flat against his and she buried her face in the nape of his neck. He smelt like patchouli and cedar wood, warm and spicy and Gale. He smelt like Gale. She wished the scent would envelop her.

He held her like that for a long while as they planted tired, lazy kisses over each others’ faces and necks. Eventually their breathing returned to normal, and they let out a shaky, satisfied laugh against one another. Placing a long, hard kiss on his lips, she drew herself off him with a soft gasp.

She didn’t move far, her head simply resting on his chest, her fingers dancing through his chest hair. His arm wrapped around her, and he drew lazy circles on her shoulder with his fingertips. She listened to the steady rhythm of his heart, matching her breath to his.

“When I’m scared Gale and I can’t sleep, which happens more often than not now. I lull myself to slumber thinking of you.” She said, the peaceful post-sex blanket giving her a bravery she didn’t think she possessed. “But I don’t picture you and the weave, or you mid spell in the middle of a fight, or even you fucking me, as impressive as you are in all regards.” She continued, and he chuckled against her. “No, I think about drying up plates as you wash them, of lazy Sundays in bed reading in soft sunlight, of baking you cakes and us picking out lampshades. You make me dream of mundanity, a life with you would be a life well lived.”

Gale kissed her forehead gently. “‘I love you’ doesn’t really seem strong enough anymore.” He said quietly. “You know I’m supposed to be the one who’s good with words and yet you leave me dumbfounded.” He paused, squeezing her tighter. “I hope we get to live that life.”

“I’m sure we will.” Tav said and surprisingly found that for once she believed it.

[optimisticgrey]

You could have done anything. Gone with anyone. Yet you chose me.

Part 2 of 3

personal note: This is for all the redeemed Dark Urges. We never got our Durge night with Halsin and only pathetic attempts of dialogues after rejecting Bhaal. I hope I did us justice.

summary: You enter Bhaal's temple to free Halsin and kill Orin. It doesn't turn out exactly as planned.

content warning: This is dark, bloody and monstrous. It includes torture, major character death and lots of blood.

Theme song: Apocalyptica - Scream for the silent

word count: 4,6k

AO3 Link

The stench hits you before the door fully opens. Thick and vile, a choking blend of rotting flesh, dried blood, and decay. It wraps around you, clings to your lungs, creeps down your throat.

You flinch on instinct, but your body reacts differently. Your shoulders loosen, your breath evens. That horrible, unwelcome familiarity washes over you, and you despise it.

It’s not comfort. Not truly.

It’s memory. Muscle memory.

A reflex born from blood-soaked years and a past you’d hoped would stay buried. This place once was home. Your sanctuary. Your playground.

The place you slinked back to after every kill in the city, preparing to torture, mutilate and sacrifice on this sacred ground, every mission done in the name of your father - Bhaal, God of Murder.

The realization sends a cold shudder through you, one that has nothing to do with the damp air.

You glance back. The others meet your eyes with quiet understanding. No questions, no judgment, only the steadying weight of their presence.

Just as they did after your outburst this morning, back at camp. You had apologized with flushed cheeks, eyes swollen and red-rimmed eyes, unable to meet their gaze, your stare fixed on your trembling hands.

And though they had every right to scold you, to lash back at you for letting anger and fear take the reins, they did not.

They did not raise their voices, not even once. They simply stayed. Quiet, steady, unwavering in their presence. Each of them. Just as they always have.

It meant more than you could ever put into words. More than even your quietly whispered thank yous could possibly express. You were not sure they understood how much this kind of grace meant to you, how deeply it reached into the wounded parts of your soul and soothed them.

Once you dried your tears and tightened your armour, you let them take the lead. Gale took charge, coordinating resources, assigning roles with the calm clarity that only he could bring in moments like these. He sent Karlach and Lae’zel to restock potions and ingredients, while he set to work preparing what he could himself, sleeves rolled, hands steady even though his eyes kept flicking toward you occasionally.

And you did nothing. You just sat, hands limp in your lap, eyes fixed on the fire, watching the flames flicker and dance but feeling none of their warmth.

Everything felt distant. Muffled.

The others did not push. They did not ask anything of you. They simply came, one by one - placing steaming mugs of tea into your hands when yours had grown cold, offering bites of food. Small kindnesses. Gentle reassurances of their presence and care.

Yenna. Wyll. Gale. Astarion. Karlach more than once. Even Lae’zel, in her own way; hovering just a little closer, sharpening her blade with deliberate noise, as if reminding the world not to try anything foolish while you were down.

It should have helped. It did not.

Because the battle inside you had not ended. It had only shifted.

The rage still burned at your core. No longer a bubbling volcano, but a steady, seething heat - coiled tightly in your chest, waiting.

You tried to smother it. You reminded yourself again and again of how far you have come. Of the control you have built, step by fragile step. Of the countless times you chose mercy and diplomacy over instinct and violence. Kindness over cruelty.

But thinking of Orin...thinking of her hands on him, the smile she wore when she hurt people just to see if you’d agree of her approach, praise her for her finesse or scold her for ending a sacrifices life to quickly…

It was easier to think about what you will do to her than it was to think about Halsin. Easier to plan pain than to sit frozen in fear.

Because the moment you let yourself think of him – his eyes, his smile, his laughter, his gentle touch, the way his hands reach for you - the ache came roaring back. The bone-deep, soul-crushing panic. The unbearable helplessness. The hollow, excruciatingly loud what if that carves your insides open.

And the tears rose again.

Your fingers curled around the little wooden duck he carved for you, hidden beneath your armour, strung on a simple leather cord. You held it tight, as if it could anchor you. As if it could keep you from falling apart entirely.

Your breath hitched. Your muscles coiled. You felt as if you might shatter under the weight of it.

So, you did what you always do: you buried it. All of it. You shoved the grief down, sealed the fear away, pushed the longing aside. Focussed on all the cruel, gruesome things you could. To bring as much pain and suffering through Orin’s prolonged death.

And when Gale finally stood at dusk, murmured that it’s time, the others rising in quiet agreement around him, you rose with them.

Their silent support grounds you enough to move forward now, step by step, into the familiar dark.

Your boots echo against the stone stairs. The air grows heavier, thicker with the weight of old and new death alike. Corpses hang from rusted hooks, their bodies twisted and brutalized. Faces smashed beyond recognition. Bones shattered in ways that once made you feel powerful.

Now, they only make your stomach churn.

One face draws your attention. A man. His features contorted by pain you can almost still hear. You do not recall his name, but the sound of his screams lingers. Faint. Distant. Like a memory that belongs to someone else.

Your jaw tightens as you push forward. You are not this person anymore. But this place remembers. And so does your body.

“Best not to dwell on the past,” Astarion murmurs beside you. When you glance at him, he offers a wry smile. “There will be enough bloodshed ahead, darling.”

You continue your descent, unease prickling across your skin. Something feels wrong. Off.

Your eyes sweep the cavern, settling on the ruined structure beyond the stone bridge. Your instincts flare. Your arm shoots out across Karlach’s chest, halting her mid-step.

“Soldier?”

You drop to your knees, fingers combing through the blood-soaked soil. Your eyes flutter closed as your mind scrambles, chasing some half-formed memory and your fingers search for something your mind remembers. And then…Ah!

A sound so soft you nearly miss it over the distant drip of water (or blood) and the quiet shuffle of boots behind you. But it is there, a mechanical twitch beneath the earth, a whisper of a trap revealing itself. Your fingers curl around the edge of a hidden pressure plate buried.

“There’s a trap,” you mutter, more to yourself than the others, your pulse thrumming beneath your skin. You brush more dirt away, exposing the faint shimmer of runic etchings, dull and dormant for now.

“Astarion, if you would be so kind,” you grin while you stand up.

“Certainly, darling,” he grins and turns to his task, ever so casual in the face of looming danger. You scan your surroundings, muscle memory taking over before your mind even fully catches up.

There is a ledge to the right, perched over the abyss. You remember it just in time. Your shield snaps into place a heartbeat before you shoulder Gale aside.

He stumbles, eyes wide as he looks at you in surprise - just as an arrow shatters against the rock where he had stood a second ago.

You do not even glance at the impact. Your eyes are already moving, calculating. Astarion remains hidden, sharp and precise in his movements, retreating a half step as he finishes the delicate task of disarming the trap.

“Three archers,” you whisper under your breath. “At least. The distance shouldn’t pose too much trouble, but I’ll need backup. They can mask themselves in the shadows, but I’m certain—”

“How do you know that?” Karlach asks, brow raised.

You sigh as you draw your sword. “Because I placed them there, Karlach.”

The silence that follows is brief but heavy.

You turn to Gale, meeting his eyes. “Can you get me over?”

He nods, but his jaw tightens. “I shall accompany you.”

“It’ll be close combat. I’d rather not see you skewered before we even make it into the temple.”

Gale hesitates, something unreadable flickering in his expression.

“I’ll join you,” Astarion cuts in smoothly, twin daggers glinting in the dim light.

Gale lifts his hands in exasperated surrender. “Kindly note, for the official record of today’s catastrophes, that I am most reluctant to endorse this particular course of action.”

You smirk faintly, half-amused despite the tension curling in your gut. “Noted.”

Then you close your eyes, inhaling deeply. The scent of the stone and blood and the faintest tinge of rot fills your lungs. A shiver runs down your spine as Gale’s magic begins to hum beneath your skin, a gentle pull wrapping around your body.

You exhale slowly and close your eyes for a brief moment before your boots find the stone beneath them again. You know the archers are out here, hiding in the shadows. But whether you feel them or remember them does not matter.

The first scream splits the silence, echoing through the cavern, sharp and jarring against the heavy stone walls.

“Found one,” Astarion calls, his voice light as he parries a second attacker with a swift flick of his daggers. He shifts his stance, trying to press forward - but his heel slips near the cliff’s edge, your pulse spikes.

You do not think, you move.

Blade sinking cleanly into the archer’s side, your body twists with practiced force, a shove of your boot sending the limp form over the cliff and into the dark below while your hand catches Astarion arm to steady him.

You meet Astarion’s gaze. His grin mirrors yours.

Continue on AO3

[amica-aenigmata-naboo]

Endlessly

Astarion x plus size! Y/N - drabble - 1.3K WC NSFW 18+

Masterlist

Warnings: insecurities, yelling, self deprecation, fluff on fluff on fluff, Astarion being a big sap, loveeeeee

Part 2

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You and Astarion had been together for 8 bliss filled months. You knew you were in love with him the day he asked you to be his. Yet you never said it. He hadn’t said it either. Honestly, you were still amazed he was with you. You knew your size wasn’t perceived as conventionally attractive or desirable. It used to bother you, but you were quite comfortable in yourself now. Until it came to Astarion. It was like you were trying to hide any and all fat on your body when he was around. He had never made any negative remarks, quite the opposite actually. You just knew one day he would wake up and see through the honeyed fog of lust and find somebody who matched him. Somebody perfect, just like him. 

You watched as Karlach played in the stream, she had such a child-like wonder about her. It made you happy to just be in her presence. Shadowheart sat on the shore with you, meditating. Everyone else was back at camp. 

“Come on Y/N! Come play!” Karlach yelled, splashing a bit of water at you. 

You got up wading into the water up to your knees. Thankfully you wore shorts and a massively oversized top. You felt comfortable enough around everyone to be seen like this. You and Karlach flicked water at each other, finding rocks and shells to take back to camp. You talked about nothing and everything. Gale and Wyll made their way down, even Lae’zel. The weather was just too good to not enjoy your little beach. You didn’t see Astarion make his way down the hill. He walked up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. You lurched forwards, not used to touching as you were still nervous about it - especially when he touches your waist/stomach. Your foot slipped on the soft mud beneath you, you fell forwards. You caught yourself, avoiding any injury but you were soaked. Your clothes clung to you, your body on full display. You scrambled up, crossing your arms over your torso. You pushed past Astarion as he held a hand out to you. You rushed up the hill and to your tent, stripping your clothes off. 

“Darling? May I come in?” Astarion said from the front of your tent.

“Not right now Star.” You tried hard to hide the waiver in your voice, or the subtle sniffles you were letting out. You layered on clothes, wanting to hide within yourself somehow. 

“Love…” he said, barely peeking inside.

“I said not now! Please just go away…” you yelled, sounding harsher than you intended. You laid on your bedroll, curling into yourself. You cried until you fell asleep, the moment earlier exhausting and overwhelming you. 

---------------------------

Astarion backed away from your tent. He had never heard you yell before, much less at him. He racked his brain, not exactly sure what he did wrong. It clicked after a moment, he touched you. You two had never established boundaries verbally but you knew he was ok with touching. You, however, were only ok with light touches that didn’t really invade your person. Holding hands, a kiss, caressing your face - all things he had done before that you seemed to be happy with. But today, perhaps he had overstepped. When he saw you and your radiant smile, so full of joy to just exist in the moment looking for shells and splashing about with Karlach. He acted on instinct, without even properly thinking it through. He felt positively wretched. Out of everyone he understood most how awful it is to have physical boundaries crossed, and he crossed yours. He walked to his tent glumly. He would seek you out later, right now he wanted to give you the space you deserved. 

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You woke up later. The crickets outside chirped and you could hear the campfire crackling. You rubbed your eyes. A blanket had been thrown over you, a note was folded up on your table. You got up and snatched it. “Find me when you wake - A” You sighed, closing your eyes. The way you yelled at him echoed in your mind. You were flustered, you hadn’t meant for it to sound so mean. You peeled off your coat, feeling hot and constricted in all the layers you had piled on. You left your tent in a sweater and pants. You felt less anxious than you had earlier, knowing your campmates didn’t care what you looked like. All you cared about was that Astarion had touched your stomach, the spot you were most insecure about. You couldn’t act like it wasn’t there anymore, you had to face him. You willed back your misty eyes, preparing for the worst. You softly called his name outside of his tent, waiting for him to call you in. He did, and he looked just as nervous as you felt. Your stomach dropped but you tried not to show it.

You sat rather far from him, wanting to have space between you both. “I’m sorry I yelled at you.” you spoke first.

“I’m not worried about that darling… I am worried about the fact that I hurt you.” he spoke softly but you could hear the guilt in his tone.

You looked at him, confusion dripping from your face. “I wasn’t thinking… and I know that isn’t an excuse, but I’m sorry I crossed your boundary. It won't happen again… that being said, we need to have a talk.”

Your blood ran cold, a cold sweat covering your back. This was it. You nodded stoically, convincing yourself not to cry. 

“I would like to know where you are comfortable with me touching you. I, personally, am comfortable with you touching me wherever, whenever.” he smiled at you gently, a simple twitch up the corners of his mouth.

Well… this is not where you thought the conversation was going. “I…” you tried to collect your thoughts, “I do like your touch. I want you to know that. I love it, in fact. What happened earlier wasn’t anything to do with you, I just…” you paused, unsure if you should even tell him. 

He looked at you with his big pleading eyes, you had to tell him or this wall would intrude upon your relationship.

“I am insecure about my… size… my weight. I know you have had many diviner conquests, and you yourself are a vision… I just… I don’t know… I don’t want to disappoint y-” you were cut off by his lips melding into yours. They were soft but you could feel a fire behind them. 

“Respectfully, darling, shut up.” he kissed you again, deeply. As if trying to convey a multitude of feelings at once. “You are perfect. And you are not a conquest, you are the one I…” he paused, his eyes flicking between yours before he spoke again. “You are the one I love. And I love all of you.”

You were shocked, you were sure you felt everything about your relationship deeper than he did. And yet, here he was saying he loves you. “I love you… I’m so sorry about this whole thing.” you scooted closer to him, reaching for his hand. 

“Don’t be sorry. I understand insecurities, nasty little thoughts that cannibalize you from within.” he cupped your cheek, “You have nothing to worry about. You are perfect, I love everything about you.” 

He sounded so sincere you couldn’t help but tear up. “Can we… work on expanding my boundaries? I want to touch you, and have you touch me… I just need some time to get comfortable. Get out of my head, ya know?” you asked, picking at your nails. You hadn’t talked about intimacy with anyone else before, not like this. 

“Of course little love… we’ll go at your pace. Honestly, I’m excited to do this with you.” he smiled, his fangs making an appearance. “I love you, endlessly.” he said as he kissed your cheeks before landing on your lips. The kiss was sweet, almost like it was sealing a promise.

“I love you, endlessly.” you spoke on his lips before connecting your mouths once again.

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Naboo's Note:

Hello! I hope everyone enjoys, I haven't seen too many plus size reader inserts with Astarion so here is my shot at it. As a plus size person I think this kind of representation is important and very validating. Post again soon, love you guys!! Thanks for all the likes, comments, reblogs, and requests!! XOXOXOXO

[trappedinafantasy37]

I have never understood this whole notion that the companions don't take Durge seriously when they talk about their urges. it's not that they don't take Durge seriously, I just don't think they comprehend just how bad it is for Durge.

Shadowheart acknowledges that everyone has these thoughts and everyone seems to indulge in them. But you and the others have a conscious. She truly believes that you have the ability to fight them because she has faith that you do have a conscious.

Gale interprets it as if it just ordinary anger, something that everyone has from time to time. But, he also stresses that thoughts like that should remain only as thoughts because he knows that they should not be acted on.

Lae'zel says that there is nothing wrong with enjoying a little bit of murder, as long as there is a purpose to it and isn't done too often and without restraint.

Wyll also sees it as anger, but feels that that anger is justified considering what everyone has been through the past few days. However, he sees no issue with the problem, as long as it is directed to those who deserve it (like your enemies).

Karlach immediately applauds you for admitting your problem and suggests that you can either change, or also direct your urges out on those who deserve t.

Halsin perceives your situation as any other illness, but one that you may not be able to rid yourself from. He advises you to engage in mindfullness and self control.

None of these come off as people who aren't taking Durge seriously, but merely people who do not comprehend that the urge is pathological. Astarion, Minthara, and Jaheira are the only ones that truly know and understand just how bad it is for Durge from the get go.

Astarion will actually approach Durge if he notices the symptoms as he himself knows what it's like to be feral and driven by impulses he cannot control. All the companions (except Minthara) will tell Durge to resist the urges but Astarion is by far the most convincing because he has literally been in Durges place. He truly and fully understands what it means to have another force compel you to do things you don't want to do.

Minthara has personally witnessed people driven by darker urges both in Menzoberranzan and by being the plaything of Orin. When Durge confesses to her, she will admit that she fears that Durge is like those that even Lolth would destroy for the greater good (and Lolth has no concept of greater good, that's how serious it is). She admires the power of the slayer, but she believes it to be a power that should be controlled. If the slayer cannot control themselves, then she will destroy it.

Jaheira clocks Durge as Bhaalspawn not too long after joining camp. Considering that she has personally traveled with Bhaalspawn in her past, she literally does know better than anyone how deep things go for Durge. She has witnessed it herself, many times.

When Durge reveals to everyone about being Bhaalspawn, they are all surprised (except Minthara and Jaheira) because they are forced to recognize that these aren't fleeting thoughts, but the core nature of Durge. They are forced to recognize for the first time that these are persistent thoughts that Durge has to resist every single damn day. They are forced to acknowledge that if not for the incredible restrain, Durge would have killed them all.

[brotherwtf]

I'm thinking about Paulina. How the casting director thought to get an actress who has similar features to Gale. I'm 100% Bucky was thinking about Gale the whole time they were having sex. Probably cried out his name when he came and Paulina just silently took it because she was also just looking for some solence and company for the night. She didn't judge him just understood him and tried to make him understand why he needs to fight the war. And then the next morning he finds a reason to, Buck got shot down just like Paulina's husband so now he understands her too

nah that whole like 20 minutes is such fucking crazy work because WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH EVERYONE

the cuts are just insane because they're like "who's gonna tell Egan" and then they cut to him in a bed ALONE, reaching out for someone who isn't there after he just slept with a girl who looked exactly like his best friend, asking for her to stay and she just says "I know you'll understand" when she talks about her husband who was a pilot, WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN HE'LL UNDERSTAND MY BROTHER IN CHRIST DOES HE HAVE A PILOT HES DESPERATELY MISSING RN???

but oh man anon I think you're a genius, he saw Paulina and couldn't help but compare her to a man he could never have, drank with her and danced with her and thought it was someone else in his arms instead, someone he wishes he could kiss and touch but he's so out of reach, both physically and metaphysically, and he's so down bad desperate that he has to fuck someone who looks like him just so he can get his kicks

but I definitely love the idea of him closing his eyes, gritting his teeth and imagining it's Gale beneath him, moaning quietly and holding onto his arms and back with strong arms, lips against his ear as he fucks into him, but it's not quite enough, Paulina is soft and beautiful curves while John knows Gale is sharp lines with a perfectly toned body, tries to imagine what it would be like to hold his waist and bite his neck, but even when Paulina urges John to open his eyes and look at her all he can see is Gale, both of their faces flitting in and out of focus like he's not sure who he's sleeping with

he catches glimpses of blond hair and blue eyes and soft pink lips and all he can think of is Gale, Gale, his best friend who he had fallen stupidly in love with, and he wonders if Paulina sees someone else too, because he certainly doesn't see her

and when he comes he cries on Gale's name, "fuck... Gale..." because that's all he can think about, wishes it was him below him instead of Paulina, and then he feels so instantly horrible because he probably ruined what was supposed to be a distraction for Paulina, but she only gives him a knowing smile, kisses his cheek and calls him a sweet man, tells him she misses someone too, we all have our vices in life and Johns left thinking about what he's going to tell Gale when he gets back to base, maybe he'll finally man up and tell him how he feels before one of them inevitably goes down, and he's worked up the courage to march right up to Gale and tell him before it's too late

but what John doesn't realize is that it's already too late, "He went down swinging" and John can feel his stomach violently turn, his throat close and his eyes water because it's too late... it was too late and he'll never see Gale again, he only has the faint fantasy of taking Gale to bed with him when it was really some dame, and now he's gone and John will never be able to tell Gale how he really feels, oh man oh dear

yeah but I wanna sit the fucking casting directors down because what the fuck they said "hmmm, let's make the girl Major Egan sleeps with a carbon copy of his boy best friend that he can't seem to get off of his mind" shaking my fist in the air mota writers one day you will pay of all of my anguish

[tee-dohrnii]

Hey!! I’d love to see Thalia and Gale being domestic, if you don’t mind!! Your art is GORGEOUS.

I’d also love to learn more about Thalia’s backstory or any Gale headcannons you had!

I hope this counts as being domestic I just can't resist a good nap time moment :') and I also wanted to just do doodles but I got carried away and started coloring 😭 coloring has never been my strong suit so I hope this is fine

And uaaa thank you for thinking my art is gorgeous!!! I'm honestly really glad to see people are enjoying my silly doodles here thank you!!

--- vv Thalia backstory blurb vv ---

In terms of backstory, honestly I haven't been able to flesh it out much yet! I also don't know much about dnd lore (I really wish I did) so anything I say here may not be consistent with lore :'D

However, what I have so far is Thalia used to be Thalia Adkrana, daughter of a noble family from a powerful bloodline of storm sorcerers. Despite being the 4th born child out of 5 children, since birth she's shown to be more blessed with magic than anyone in her family, powerful storms raging around her constantly when she was younger and destroying anything around her, causing trouble for her family. As she grew older, she may have logically understood how it is to keep her lightning under control, but whenever she gets very emotional her magic tends to lash out in response to her reactions. Growing up privileged and powerful, she also developed a bit of a superiority complex and an awful temper when things don't go her way, so not really a good combo when her magic gets unstable when she's upset.

Because of this, her family preferred keeping her within their property as much as possible to avoid dealing with her and to avoid troubling others, especially when one wrong outburst from her could ruin their family reputation. Growing up isolated from world didn't really help her grow and mature properly either, and her temper tantrums got worse and worse the longer she was kept in there and the more her family seemed to just give up on her. The only one she could really confide in and find comfort in was her younger brother.

Everything really changed when one day she decided to speak up against her family and demanding they let her leave the house, let her come with them to one of their social gatherings. Hells, she's been trapped in their property for so many years at this point she wants to engage with people, even peasants at this point because she'd rather deal with them than look at the same suffocating decor for even another second. Voices and tempers rising, she grew more and more frustrated as her parents kept shutting down every argument she could come up with, and the more the storms around her grew the more she proved that her parents were right for keeping her in. Angry at them, angry at herself, thunder roared and the lightning sparks dancing around her gathered into huge bolts of lightning, surging out of her in rage as if her magic itself was screaming out for her if her words and her voice couldn't reach her family. She knew they had every good reason to not let her out, knowing her own lack of control over her own emotions - but maybe if they trusted her just once, guided her, saw her as someone in desperate need of help instead of a stain on their family name, maybe things could've been different.

But that's not how we got to this point. A loud thud of a body falling flat on the ground snapped her out of her state and right beside them lay one of their servants, dead at her feet, and as if the panic she was feeling couldn't get any worse, just close by she saw her younger brother lying on the floor, badly hurt and crying out from pain. Immediately her parents, older siblings, and anyone who heard them nearby rushed to her little brother and the poor servant, doing their best to take care of the situation and Thalia stood there silent, watching her world fall apart in front of her eyes.

The order to banish her from their home came soon after, no longer Thalia Adkrana but simply Thalia, removing her status and all the benefits that name gave. Since she so desperately wanted to go out and see the world, now the world is all she'll have and no home to return to.

Kinda really awful timing when shortly after she started her new unwanted life as an adventurer, she got picked up by a nautiloid and had a tadpole squirming its way behind her eye.

And also shortly after meeting poor souls who shared the same unfortunate tadpole situation she was facing, it's no wonder Thalia fell so hard for a certain wizard who showed her in one night how beautiful, intimate, and warm magic could be as it enveloped her whole being like a gentle embrace - that her power and her emotions were something she could learn to channel and not be afraid of, a perspective her family failed to teach her for years. And even if at times she still found herself electrocuting the waters they stood on in her anger or excitement and hurting them, or maybe her temper would get the best of her again and she would unconsciously lash out at them before she could even realize she was yelling, after every argument or petty insults thrown at each other, they would still watch out for one another and care for each other and soon after they'd be sitting around a campfire laughing and enjoying each other's company.

It's no wonder once she's found a family she truly belonged in and felt safe in that her true nature finally bloomed after being suppressed for so long - a kind, lonely girl who loved being around people and helping them in all the ways she wished she could've helped her younger self ages ago, never letting anyone get left behind and given up on like she was back then.

Although being out of touch from reality for many years did create a lot of very awkward moments when interacting with people during the beginning of their journey, she did learn very fast how best to compose herself in public - best she could when the ones teaching her are also a couple of social outcasts but hey it's fine.

---

Whew! That's a lot actually. Idek if any of that makes sense I'm not going to proofread all that :') I also don't really have any Gale headcanons I do really enjoy reading other people's headcanons about him though!

I hope this answer is sufficient ^_^