#i'm doing studies of gale right now and. man.

[nomouthtospeakof]

they really gave this sad, middle-aged dork an 8 pack, an hourglass figure, and yaoi hands

[gale-force-storm]

You know, I think my favorite thing about Gale's whole "watching you in battle makes me horny" scene is like. He's not wrong. A brush with danger does in fact increase one's desire for "other forms of stimulation". Studies have shown that being in situations that cause a rush of adrenaline, be that going on a roller coaster, seeing a scary movie, walking across a swinging suspension bridge, or something else, increase feelings of attraction. It's literally a Known Thing that adventurous stuff is great to do on a date because it will most likely make you more into each other.

Idk, I just love that his come-on is not only extremely nerdy, but also scientifically accurate. Feels correct and I'm glad they did it lol

[amiserableseriesofevents]

I've been on a roadtrip today to go on ✨vacation✨ and I had a lot of time to spare so I'm here to bring yiy,

Clegan roadtrip headcanons 🚘

Gale plans. He studies the itinerary, when and where to make the pit-stops, he even divides the trip in equal sections so him and John can alternate at the wheel and not get too tired

Still, John drives most of the way because he loves to drive. He loves the speed, and the sight of the endless road in front of him – something about the freedom of an open road speaks to his very soul – but he also likes to simply be driving Gale around, his lovely passenger princess

He often drives like a madman, too fast and coming a little too close to other cars, but Gale is so used to it that most of the times he falls asleep right in his seat – he works too hard, is always tired, and the familiar drone of John's yapping and the rumble of the engine lull him perfectly to sleep

John's job is also to create the shared playlist for the trip. He goes for the perfect vibe every time, perfectly balanced between songs to belt to and calmer ones. Gale always adds the same songs without caring about the vibe, 'cause he's a man of habit, but John never complains, he even turns the volume up when his songs come up

Gale has a terrible road rage. John blares his horn to drivers who cut him off, maybe curses loudly at them, but Gale is somehow worst. He starts spewing the worst curses known to men under his breath and then speeds up until he's head to head with the other unfortunate driver and just stares at them, menacingly, like he's daring them to say something to him or cut him off again. They usually slow down and let him pass. John giggles the whole time

When they stop to eat or to refuel John isn't allowed to get anything to drink while on the road because then he'll have to pee and they'll have to make additional stops that Gale didn't plan for. Still, since he's not immune to John's puppy eyes (they're worst than Meatball's), he actually makes room for one or two possible additional stops so if John really wants a travel soda he can have it

They also buy a shit ton of sweet and savory snacks, sweet for Gale and savory for John

When John isn't driving (or sleeping) he turns into a menace, hitting on Gale with the most ridicule phrases he can come up with, teasing him, touching him, stealing kisses and murmuring in his ear what he can't wait to do once they stop for the night

Sometimes Gale has to find a secluded spot near the road to placate him

Prior the trip, when they're still deciding what to go see when they're on the road, Gale always sends John an email with details about every single interesting thing they said could be seen during the roadtrip, with opening times, links to reviews, and personal opinions. And then another mail with possible accommodations, of course

John usually says yes to everything Gale proposes to see, but he's picky with the accommodation. He needs the bed to be a certain size, he wants breakfast to be included or at least a diner/café not too far from the place, and he wants a minibar in the room. Gale always checks for cleanliness, and combining their searches they always find places they're satisfied with and they recommend them to their friends

Sometimes when it's not too hot Gale likes to lower his window and let the wind mess up his hair and sting his face, he just stays there with his eyes closed, one hand on John's leg as he listens to him talk about whatever weird stuff he's into now – for him, nothing spells peace more clearly than this

[fuzybby]

Punishment

Gale x F!Reader

Synopsis: You haven't been doing the best in your classes, and Mr. Dekarios needs a better way to punish you.

CW: spanking, fingering(?), no penetrative sex, Gale is a Professor, student and teacher relationship! (not healthy in real life but this is fiction)

1.4k words, enjoy!

The sun peaking through the window is what woke me up from slumber. The bright rays felt warm against my face, and I instinctively tried to swat them away.

Fuck.

Another day of class. Not that the class is horrible, it's actually quite thrilling learning of the adventures from my Professor, the problem is how hot my Professor is.

Professor Dekarios. The man that he is. He keeps his hair in a half bun everyday. His beard is scruffy and I wonder what it would feel like against my neck, my chest, in between my thighs..

I can feel the wetness between my legs already. Another day where I go to class soaking wet for my teacher. The teacher.

If my friends had known I had the hots for him, they'd never let me live it down. Or, they'd agree to also wanting to fuck him, but I doubt that's the case. Many people don't actually enjoy Professor Dekarios's class, they say he rambles too much. The study of Arcana can be difficult at times, especially when the teacher is watching your every move with his sultry brown eyes..

Stop thinking!

I groan and finally get out of bed, rubbing the bridge of my nose with my pointer finger and thumb as I try to calm myself down. There's no need to work myself up before every class thinking of him.

I dress and eat, going about my morning routine as if I'm not insanely horny, before finally grabbing my books and making my way to The Study of Magic building on campus.

I find my regular seat, not right in front but not right in the middle of the rows. The closer to the front, the closer I am to the writing on the chalkboard so I can take notes. That part is real, I need to get better at focusing for class, because as of right now, my assignments I have been handing in are only getting average marks in return.

Class ticks on and on, and I study my Professor's movements methodically. His teaching robes are dark with stripes of red going down on his shoulders. They reach the floor, which leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination. He wore his glasses today, round lenses that don't sit on his nose well, making him constantly have to push the glasses up higher on his face. His hair is messy, small grey streaks sneak into his brown locks. He is so handsome.

At the end of class, when all is dismissed, I haven't taken any notes. All I've done is watch Professor Dekarios's hands as he swung them around, his lips as he spoke, his eyes as he went through the emotions of telling his story.

Everyone in the class packs up their books in their bags, chatting freely as they leave their seats to leave. I'm slower packing up, waiting for people to leave the row first before I start shoving my books into my own bag.

I look up to find Professor Dekarios's gaze on me, I can't tell the emotion in his eyes. He makes a ‘come here' motion with his finger, to which my heart rate spikes. Am I in trouble? I think to myself.

I finish packing quickly and make my way over to him and his desk, every other classmate now out of the room.

“We need to talk.” He says with a sigh, leaning against the front of his desk and crossing his arms.

“I have threatened suspension, called your parents, I have given you so much time and leeway for you to finish assignments, and yet you refuse to get your act together.” He continues, taking off his glasses and setting them down on his desk.

“I'm sorry, I-” I try to say, trying to come up with some sort of excuse that isn't ‘all I think about is you. you're the cause of my bad grades.’

“I am running out of appropriate punishments. At this point, I'll need to spank you like a child to get my point across.” He spits out. His face has contorted to anger.

I open my mouth to speak and nothing comes out, I'm at a loss for words. Spanking? Does he mean that? My face feels hot, and I try to forget the constant throbbing that comes from my clit.

“Maybe you should then.” Is what I say. I meet his eyes to convey my seriousness. “Spank me, I mean.”

He raises an eyebrow, his jaw clenched as he looks at me.

“Fine. Set your bag down, and bend over the desk.”

I stand frozen for a minute, realising that this is happening. He moves slightly to give me more room on the desk, his anger still evident.

I slowly set my bag down on the floor and stepped up to the desk, leaning over it slightly. Placing my hands to lay flat against the mahogany. I hear my Professor before I feel him, he stands behind me and quickly lands a sharp slap to my behind. I gasp and lean forwards more, my elbows now against the table.

The sting from his hand hit me hard, even though my clothes were still on, the roughness of his hands were evident.

“Mr. Dekarios!-” I gasp out, to which he replies “Call me Gale.”

“Gale” I breathe his name. It feels good against my tongue, comfortable.

He hits me again, on the other cheek this time. I crumble forwards again, my chest hitting the desk now as I'm fully bent over. My nails claw against the wood, and my breathing becomes ragged.

“Have you learnt your lesson yet?” Gale asks me, his hand comes to lay on my ass gently, hoping to bring some sort of comfort to the situation. He presses his crotch against me, and I can feel how hard he is. I whine out a quiet “yes” as I try to push myself against him.

The friction, for even just half a second, feels so good it makes me want to cry. I've wanted this for so long, I could probably cum from just the friction.

His hand on my ass moves to cup my cunt, bringing a whimper out of me. “Please” I beg, trying to move my hips against his hand.

“Can I take these off?” He asks, his other hand moving to snap the waistband of my trousers against my skin. I nod quickly, spewing more “please”s.

Gale takes them off quickly, only pushing them down to wrap around my ankles, his fingers coming back up to my uncovered folds. spreading them open with his thumbs, my slick already coating his digits.

“How long have you been wet for?” He breathes.

“All day.”

He groans. A gutteral sound that sends shivers down my spine as his fingers move again, this time to prod at my clit. Flicking it back and forth agonisingly slowly. His other hand moves to press against my lower back, keeping me grounded against the table.

A very gentle slap is sent to my cunt, the sound of flesh slapping against wetness filled the air for only a second. I whine again, biting my lip to stop the tears that threaten to spill. I have wanted him to touch me for so long, and how here he is, teasing me as I wriggle in his grasp.

He moves back to flick my clit again, this time harder and faster. Every once in a while circling it. My hips back on their own trying to get more pleasure, more friction from him.

It doesn't take long for me to scream out that I'm cumming. My body feels on fire as ecstasy courses through my veins. My legs shake from the pleasure as Gale tuts at me. My mouth opens in a silent scream as I try to control my emotions, tears have spilled from my eyes and landed onto the desk. Remnants of the filthy things we have done.

Gale removes his hand and pulls my pants back up, tapping my ass again gently.

I turn around on wobbly legs and try to move his robes up to get to him, but he grabs my wrists and stops me in my tracks. He smirks devilishly, his next words make my legs threaten to collapse even more than before.

“Only good girls who pay attention in class get my cock.”

Before long he's sending me on my way, not even a kiss on the lips goodbye. By the time I make it back to my dorm room I'm collapsing on the bed with a squeal. I will definitely be paying better attention now.

[vinnypotaoe]

The Wizard in his Tower

Part 1 of my Elanor x Gale Fanfiction

~

It didn't take long for Elanor to find out about the fall of the Wizard's Prodigy "Gale of Waterdeep", Mystra's chosen that she had exiled for his foolish attempts at dark magic consumption. It was the talk of the town for months!

The rumor had it, that he consumed an item that was one of the forbidden objects of dark magic, no one was allowed to use. The very magic Elanor had been casting all her life and was in the hunt of getting more knowledge about.

Naturally, she would try to find that Man called Gale of Waterdeep and squeeze every bit of information out of him, potentially whatever he consumed too. But... The Wizard somehow disappeared from the Earth's surface.

Elanor spent weeks trying to find even the slightest trace of the famous Wizard, but it seemed almost as if he vanished, maybe even died... No one knew where he went, or what he was doing.

The wizard had made sure he was impossible to be found. Elanor had gone as far as seeking out his relatives, only to be met with even more questions and no answers.

That was, until she found a strange cat in the woods. Or better said, a "Tressym" on the hunt for magical artifacts.

One evening Elanor was strolling through the woods, as a strange winged cat had come out of the bushes and circled the Elven woman curiously. Her tiny whiskers twitched, as her little nose followed the smell of Elanor's amulet around her neck.

"What do you want, weird cat?" Elanor scoffed at the creature, who hissed back in response, before making weird gestures, trying to... talk?

Elanor rolled her eyes annoyed and cast a speak of animals spell, before crossing her arms and looking down upon the cat.

"Ah finally dear, thank you, now then... First of all I AM NOT A CAT! I AM A TRESSYM!" The 'cat' scolded before sitting down and licking her right paw rather aroused.

"I have noticed, the smell of that amulet around your neck is quite.... extraordinary" she continued her talk and self cleaning.

"where did you get that from? And by any chance, does yours have a selling price? I am in dire need of... Such magic" the cat finished and looked up to the red haired elf.

"No way!" Elanor simply replied and turned her back, what a waste of time and magic, she thought. Just another creature hunting for rare artifacts.

"Wait dear!" The cat jumped after Elanor and tried to convince her. "It truly is a life or death situation! My friend could heal with that dark magic inside of it!"

Elanor stopped her tracks and looked at the cat that desperately circled around the woman wearing the amulet.

"What dark magic?" She asked, now curious about what the cat seemed to know. "The amulet dear, I can feel it's dark magic emitting from it. Do you not?" The cat sat down next to the woman's feet and looked up to her.

"My best friend is suffering under a certain... Condition let's call it... And he needs to consume magic in order to survive. That amulet of yours... It's from the same 'condition' my friend suffers from. I thought that maybe by giving him your amulet, he may feel better! Or at least study it to find a cure"

The cat explained and somewhere through the middle, Elanor became suspicious about who the cat was referring to. Could it be....

"Can I meet that friend of yours first?" She asked in response and the cat shook her head. "I'm afraid he won't allow that"

"So you're asking me to give up my amulet just like that? To a cat that pops out of nowhere and asks for it? For what?" Elanor snickered. She was not going to give it up that quickly, that cat may be the key to finding that lost Wizard.

"Dear... Firstly I have explained you, I am a Tressym...not A CAT. Secondly, I have been out for weeks, finding artifacts for my friend and I am fully aware of what I am asking of you... Could you not help a stranger in need out of pure kindness? I'm not asking for it for free, tell me your price!" The cat bargained, eyes locked on the amulet around the woman's neck.

"My price is meeting that friend of yours" Elanor replied and the cat hissed, before jumping backwards.

"I have told you that he won't approve of this!" She growled and met Elanor's fierce stare. "I am searching for a Wizard called Gale of Waterdeep, is that your friend by any chance? I have a few very important questions for him"

For just a moment the eyes of the cat widened, before she jumped back and shook her head. "No, no I have never heard of such a name! But I will ask my friend if he may want to...meet. I'll be back tomorrow by sundown dear, come back by then" the cat said and jumped away into the bushes quickly.

"Wait! Where are you going? And why would I listen to you?!" Elanor called after the cat, but she was already gone. It didn't matter to her either way, she would find the 'friend' on her own, following the poorly covered up tracks of the strangely winged cat. Elanor already knew all she needed to know, that friend of her can only be the Wizard she was trying to find.

It was hard to keep on the tracks, as the cat flew parts of the way, but a few hours later into the night, Elanor had finally found the tower far out into the woods.

A place so isolated and seemingly forgotten, the air itself felt strangely different. The brick walls that the towers was build of, were overgrown and the garden surrounding it was wild and untouched for decades.

If it weren't for the small light, that was lit behind one of the windows, Elanor would have judged this place a ghost tower, a place long forgotten in history.

But someone, or something, lived there, together with that weird cat.

Elanor made her way across the overgrown path to the entrance, which to her surprise was open. Whoever was resident here, was not expecting anyone to visit soon.

She slipped inside and cast an invisibility spell on herself, before sneaking the stairs up leading higher into the tower, towards where the light was coming from.

"But mister Dekarios! If you were to meet that woman, you could eventually find a cure to it all!" The same voice of the cat echoed through the almost shut closed door.

Elanor stopped and gently pushed the wood door to sneak a peak into the room behind it.

"No! Whoever that person is, I do not wish to meet them. Not a single living soul is supposed to find out where I am Tara! Especially not someone so keen to find out about me..."

The voice of a man spoke, but Elanor could not see him at first, he was somewhere out of the view angle from where she was standing behind the door. She could only see the winged cat sit on a carpet, looking towards the man who she spoke to.

"It is a glimpse of hope sir, much more worth taking instead of staying miserable inside of this tower. Do it Mister Dekarios, do it for your good old Tara at least... I can't keep seeing you this hopeless, giving up on everything. Isolated from the world and slowly dying from loneliness, that neither all of these books can fill, or I can"

Footsteps came closer and a brown haired man dressed in a purple Wizards robe appeared a few feet in front of the door. "Oh Tara..." He spoke while walking up to the cat sitting on the carpet, before getting into his knees and gently petting her tiny head.

"I know you are worried about me, but if one person finds me, another will too and soon all of Waterdeep knows where I am at... It's too risky. I am here so no one gets hurt, you know that" he spoke softly and the cat laid down, rolling on her back, enjoying the petting.

"I just wish for you to be cured sir" she replied, closing her eyes purring. "Now you are manipulating me with cuddles, that's not right at all"

The Wizard laughed and continued to gently pet the soft fur of his dear companion.

"We will work it out Tara, I promise you, but not by inviting strangers into this tower"

Elanor watched the whole scene before her and to her own surprise she almost felt bad for him?

She wasn't sure what she would find in this tower, or what type of person this chosen of Mystra would be. Seeing a normal looking human, or a rather depressed looking one, was not what she had expected.

"We have survived for almost a year already, I am sure I can survive another until we find a cure! What is another silly year in your company?" The wizard spoke and chuckled.

"If Mystra allows me, I will live to the day I can be cured"

~

I'm unsure how long you're supposed to make your posts... Some recommendations in the comments would be nice :D I'm new to this!

Anyways now... I hope you enjoyed part 1!

[biowhore]

Karlach and Gale at camp headcannon because I can't add anything else to my WIPs right now. They get into shenanigans every time they're both left behind.

They are such bros

Karlach and Gale are the only ones stuck at camp today, and Karlach is BORED.

She yells across camp at him, "Hey Gale! Whatcha doing?"

He startles in his tent at her loud voice and looks up from his studying, rolling his eyes. "Reading," he yells back at her through the tent opening.

"Oh yeah? What about?" She pokes her head through said opening, eyeing his makeshift desk covered in scrolls and large tomes.

He startles again but quickly recovers. "Nothing interesting to you."

"Oh," she says blandly. "Hey, what do you say to getting into a little trouble, yeah?" She rubs her hands together for effect.

"I think we're in enough trouble as it stands, Karlach."

"Oh that's not what I mean and you know it! Let's have some fun, Gale! I'm dying here."

He quirks an eyebrow at her figure of speech.

"Ugh, of BOREDOM, Gale."

He smirks but shakes his head, "I don't think we should-"

"Awwww c'mon Gale! Please?"

He holds up his hands, "All right, all right! What do you have in mind?" He stands and leaves his tent.

"I dunno!" She waves her hands excitedly with a big smile across her face, "We could do anything! Hmmm..." she eyes the river they're camped next to. "Bet you can't skip rock across to the other bank."

He crosses his arms over his chest, "I shall take that wager."

Gale cheats by using telekinesis and Karlach picks up on it by the fourth try.

"Hey! No fair wizard man, cut me some slack!" She laughs good naturedly. "Can you lift anything with that spell?"

"Not anything, like a building let's say, but quite a lot."

She gasps excitedly with an idea, "You could lift me then!?"

He scoffs, "With ease."

And so Karlach somehow goads him into levitating her higher and higher until they're both like "Oh shit" and she ends up in the river. She pops up to the surface no worse for wear with a hearty laugh and huge smile on her face.

Everyone slogs into camp that evening to find Gale attempting to teach Karlach lanceboard. She shakes her head vigorously and grumbles about her head hurting from all the rules.

A little water sprays off her thick hair from earlier since she's not quite dry, and tav asks, "Why are you wet? What did you too get up to while we were gone?"

They both look at each other and shrug, "Nothing."

[rqsser]

tutor!gale and in-need-of-tutor!john au repost with the new account🙏

~~

John walks through to the library with his eyebrows pinched together and his eyes trained on the floor. He doesn't need to be tutored. He's still passing! Just not as well as his parents would like him to be.

The library is fairly empty. There's a few groups of students sitting together, either studying or just chatting quietly. A few others sit alone, on their phones or doing homework.

He's quite embarrassed to be here. A damn football player doesn't need tutoring!

John glances down at the email he has open on his phone. 'Gale will be sitting at one of the tables near the librarian's desk with some of your handed in work,' the message from his teacher reads. Begrudgingly, John stalks through the tall book shelves over to the front desk.

Honestly, he's expecting some tall, lanky guy with thick-rimmed glasses. Maybe braces to add to his stereotypical imagination.

When he rounds the corner, his eyes land on the only occupied table in that area. The guy is sitting with his head rested in his hand and looking down at what John can only presume is his past schoolwork.

John sighs through his nose before he walks closer to introduce himself. Only an hour and a half twice a week, he tells himself.

"Hi," John says awkwardly when he arrives at the table.

The guy looks up, and John's heart stops.

Where's the nerdy looking person that would get bullied in a movie? Why is he gorgeous?

He smiles at John. "You must be John. I'm your tutor, Gale Cleven." The guy, Gale, reaches out his hand for John to shake.

His hair falls over his forehead to cover his eyes slightly. God, why does his tutor have to be so damn beautiful? Now he can't skip sessions.

“Take a seat,” Gale says while looking back down at the paper. John probably half-assed it. Quite embarrassing given his current position. “I’ll give you a general idea of what we’ll do once I finish looking over this.”

John sits in the chair across from Gale. He watches his tutor for a moment. The way he holds the corner of the sheet up from the table; why are his hands so… good looking? Is John allowed to think that?

Awkwardly, after Gale glances up at him, John pulls his phone out of his pocket. He tries to look busy for the long two minutes that Gale takes to finish up. The settings app is very interesting.

“Okay, John,” Gale starts. He catches John’s attention immediately, not that he was deep into his phone. “I think that we should start with something that you’re not doing the greatest in, but not your absolute worst. I don’t want to overwhelm you by starting immediately with a class that you struggled in, like…” he pulls a different paper in front of him, “calc-twenty.”

All John can do is nod, even a little dumbly. He understands every word coming out of Gale’s mouth, he just isn’t doing the best with comprehension right now.

“All right! I do tutor other students in all grades, but I still would like to know what days are best for you.” The way Gale’s stare is unwavering and patient makes John nervous for a whole new reason.

John looks down at the gray table, trying to remember his schedule. “Um… I have football practice on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays. If you don’t mind anything after six, I guess those days could work too.”

Gale nods at him. “Hm. Where would you prefer our sessions to be? In a public setting, like this library, or something more private?”

Christ, this guy thinks of everything. “I mean, I don’t really care? The library works just fine.”

“Okay. I was just asking because sometimes people are self-conscious about the fact that they need tutoring and don’t particularly enjoy people being able to see, you know?”

That’s a very good reason. John can handle others glancing his way when he’s studying. They might even think that he’s lucky enough to just be hanging out with this gorgeous man. This gorgeous man with a very familiar face, now that John thinks about it.

“Hey, I’ve seen you somewhere. Are you on any teams or in clubs?”

Gale looks him in the eyes. “I’m the student body president.” Well, John feels stupid now.

“Ah, makes sense. I always remember pretty faces.” John clams his mouth shut. He doesn’t mean to blurt that last part. Holy shit.

His tutor opens and closes his mouth before answering, “I tend to remember similar things too, Mister Egan.” He smiles at him, then continues like it was nothing. “I can meet you here in the library around this spot on… Wednesdays at six-thirty and Tuesdays right after school, if that works with you.”

John doesn’t know how he did that. His heart is jack-rabbiting in his chest. Just barely, John manages, “Yeah.”

Gale’s pleasant smile shifts just slightly, into a sly smirk. “I’ll give you my number, that way you can tell me if you can’t make it or need help when you’re studying by yourself.” He pulls his phone out of his hoodie pocket.

A deep breath. “Okay, yeah.”

John leaves the library an hour and twenty-one minutes later with confidence in his academic abilities, and the number of a cute boy in his phone.

—

“No, Curt, I’m telling you! I was so pissed about having a tutor until I saw him!” John argues his case, which Curt seems to have given up on denying a while ago.

“Yeah, you’ve said it a few times now. This guy’s got pretty privilege and now you’re gay. What’s his name anyway?” Curt asks boredly. He sounds like he’s about to hang up if John says another word of ‘how hot my tutor is!’

“Gale. I didn’t get his last name—”

“Gale? Gale ‘the student body president’ Cleven?” His voice sounds absolutely astonished and amused.

“Well, yeah. He mentioned that he's on the student council,” John mumbles, feeling very much made fun of.

“Jesus, John, he’s practically got a whole fan club. That and he’s never put any of his focus into a relationship. Good luck with this one.” Curt’s unashamedly laughing at John now.

He has the gull to scoff, ready to defend his point again. Gale should have a fan club, he’s smart, kind, considerate, probably funny, and attractive. The whole package, honestly. So much for having a breakdown over finding out he wants to bed a man. Sure, he’s found men attractive, but no man like Gale has entered his life before.

“Please, stop thinking about your boyfriend naked. I’d like to hear you being sane and not completely delusional,” Curt’s voice came from his phone speakers, pulling John from his thoughts.

“I am not—”

John can practically hear Curt’s eye roll. “Whatever you want to tell yourself, then. We all know the truth. Johnny-boy is in love with the student body president! As basically half the student population is! You really never can be the original, can you?”

~~

this is more extended from the one i originally posted!!

[thatfreshi]

"You Better Tell Me" (Uni AU P. 5)

You get invited to the rooftop for a smoke sesh with Shadowheart and Gale

tw - weed (reader does not partake), athletic injuries, hints at grooming

@justporo

Soon after, the group fizzles out, starting with Shadowheart saying she doesn't want to be late to church. You weren't really expecting the whole religious thing with her, but hey, if it floats her boat. Gale says he has to meet with Mystra about his thesis project, and Lae'zel heads back to the room, leaving you free to do whatever you want.

So, you spend the day walking around looking for your classes, getting used to campus, finding the cozy places to study. The library is extravagant, filled with books from the past century, with a full online database. You even stop by the pool, which is full of swim team athletes preparing for the upcoming season.

After walking around all day, you come back to the dorm room, exhausted. Shadowheart however, is leaving.

"Oh, Tav! You should come with me! Gale and I are having our weekly smoke sesh. You don't have to smoke, but we like to chill out and talk about all the shit we've heard recently."

Without even really thinking about it, you put down your bags from the bookstore and follow her out the door.

"I thought we couldn't smoke on campus?"

She smirks, leading you to the staircase.

"Well, that's the nice part of being best friends with one of the RAs, their master keys work on the roof door."

As if on cue, Gale shows up behind the two of you.

"Good evening."

Fumbling with his key ring, he opens the door for the two of you to get onto the roof. It's a little chilly this high up. The lights of the city are apparent over the edge of the roof.

"You got Tav to join us?"

"I guess so. We're just cool Gale, we have to accept it."

The two laugh as Shadowheart takes a small plastic baggie out of her tote bag. Like clockwork, the two get to work rolling.

"You want one?"

You shake your head at him.

"No thanks. Honestly just hear to listen to all the gossip."

"See, I knew I liked you."

Shadowheart smiles, taking out her lighter.

"So, what do you want to know?"

You're all sitting on top of one of those electrical boxes, one that clearly isn't in use anymore. You hesitate, knowing you probably will get weird looks for your question.

"Lae'zel... what happened to her leg?"

Gale sighs, and Shadow goes to pull up a video somewhere in her camera roll. The two don't speak, instead showing you a video of a track meet from the previous year. You watch as Lae steps the wrong way, taking a nasty fall, the video picks up the scream she lets out on the track. Gale is the first to speak up.

"She fucked up her entire leg. Started as a sprained ankle, but she tried to keep going. Ended up tearing up her hamstring, and eventually tore the connection between her leg and her foot. Couldn't walk for months."

"Lae'zel doesn't like to talk about it though. She was supposed to be in the Olympics next year, but no amount of physical therapy has worked. As much as she pisses me off, I feel bad talking about it sometimes. Her whole family is full of famous athletes, and now she can't even play her sport anymore."

You weren't expecting the conversation to get so sad so fast, but it is tragic. The idea that you spend your whole life working towards something, and you can lose it all so fast.

"That fucking sucks."

Almost immediately changing the mood, Shadowheart lets out a gasp.

"Wait. Okay before I show you all this: Gale, Tav and Astarion fucked."

His eyes immediately fill with shock.

"I'm sorry. You, and that man, had sex? When?!"

"Ugh, last night. It was stupid and complicated, and then this morning I screamed at him."

"Yeah, and then he left crying. I don't think I've ever seen him cry."

The guilt bubbles back up again, unsure if you did the right thing. Before you can ask the group why they all hate him so much, Shadowheart shows you a paparazzi picture.

"Apparently this was taken earlier today. Looks like somebody's mad at Daddy, boohoo."

You almost ignore her mocking tone. It's Astarion and Szarr in the photos, having what looks like an intense argument at an outdoor shoot.

"You think he'd figure out how to stop complaining by now."

Gale takes another puff, coughing a little.

"Why are you guys so mean to him?"

Shadow almost doesn't know how to answer you.

"I mean, you've met him. He's just some rich kid piece of shit Tav."

"You should've seen him, at the party."

Gale perks up.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know, the whole thing just makes me feel sick. Like something isn't right, but I don't know what. I met one of the other models, Aurelia, and she was being super cryptic and scary."

The two are fully staring at you now.

"And I met Szarr. He's a full-on creep, gave me this weird kiss on the hand. It was gross, but Astarion? He was like tense. I don't know, it just felt wrong."

"Yeah, but Astarion's been modeling for like six years now. I'm sure he knows the industry well enough to avoid people if they're truly bad people."

It's clear Shadow has made up her mind, but you're still not so sure. Before you can say anything else, she's trying to look at Gale's phone.

"Who are you blushing at?! Is there some lover I don't know about?"

He snatches his phone from her.

"Okay, I'll tell you if you stop trying to take my shit. I may or may not be seeing someone, as of today. BUT, she wants to keep it private for now, so no you can know!"

"Come on, please! I'm your best friend."

"As soon as I can, I'll tell you. But for now, please respect her privacy."

Shadow dramatically rolls her eyes, taking another hit.

"Fine, but as soon as I can know, you better tell me!"

The three of you talk about some other random stuff for the next hour or so. Within that hour, the photos of Astarion and Szarr are wiped from the internet, much to Shadowheart's disappointment. You tune out for a lot of the conversation, thinking about just how much shit you've already gotten yourself into. Although, you'll most definitely be back for next week's smoke sesh. Besides, you need all the help you can get with just how wild this place seems to be.

[spockandthings]

TheMoonIsMyLover's Baldur's Gate 3 Fic Masterlist

All of my BG3 pieces, now in one place!

Astarion x Tav

You hold me in your hands

1k words ; Teen ; No Archive Warnings Apply ; Established Relationship, Weight Issues, Self Confidence Issues, Body Image Issues, Eating Disorder

« Astarion noticed that his clothes had grown tighter, his form filling them out more fully than he had before - a diet of rats never were as fulfilling as humanoid's blood, even more so when combined with proper, albeit sometimes simple, meals. Astarion had moved on with his day, but the thought had lingered in the back of his mind for a while after the fact, so much that Tav had picked it up, days later. » or An exploration of Chubby!Astarion

Enver Gortash x Tav/Durge

I went away 'cause I missed you or maybe / You are not me and am I truly you?

4k words ; Teen ; No Archive Warnings Apply ; Masquerade Ball, Past Relationship, Amnesia, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, Sexual Tension, Ambiguous/Open Ending [more CWs in tags]

« You are solemnly invited to Lord Enver Gortash’s Coronation Ball, held, thereby, the day after aforementioned Coronation, inside Wyrm’s Rock Fortress. Formal dress code required. This invite includes all applicable retinue. » Surely everything would go well, right? Right?

·

You've crawled into my skin

1.2k words ; Explicit ; No Archive Warnings Apply ; Modern!AU, Office Sex, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, Established Relationship

You receive a memo late at night, just as you were about to call it a day and get back home. It's from Gortash, urging you to get to his office so you two can discuss important matters. What in the hells could this mean? You'll soon find out...

·

under the cover of night

2k words ; Teen ; No Archive Warnings Apply ; Panic Attack, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Hurt/Comfort, Ambiguous/Open Ending

Gortash finds you in a darkened alley, crumbled on the cobblestone and completely sogged from the heavy rain. Oh, and in the middle of a panic attack, what else could possibly go wrong

·

good mornings

1.4k words ; Mature ; No Archive Warnings Apply ; Established Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Implied Sexual Content

You wake up in Gortash's room, but the man is nowhere to be seen. Fortunately, he is just outside and has something to ask of you

·

Not telling what I'd do / With my hands stuck on you 

792 words ; Explicit ; Rape/Non-Con ; Trans Character, P in V Sex, Alley Sex, Magic Restraints, Rough Sex, Choking, Barebacking, Sexual Assault, PWP, Named Tav

Azrael is caught in the middle of a chase by none other than Lord Enver Gortash. What will the Lordling do and just how much is Azrael going to enjoy it?

Raphael x Tav

Doctor can you help me 'cause something don't feel right?

1.8k words ; Teen ; No Archive Warnings Apply ; Suicidial Thoughts, Derealisation, Mental Health Trauma, Deal with a Devil, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Implied Sex, Sad with a Happy Ending

When you are at your wit's end, tired and weary, you come knocking on the Devil's door and he, unlike any other, help you mend yourself back together.

·

You don't know it yet, but I'm the cupid of things

819 words ; Gen ; No Archive Warnings Apply ; Breaking the fourth wall, Kidnapping, Vilain Monologue

Tav wakes up tied to a chair in the House of Hope. Soon enough, the Master of the House comes and starts monologuing. What could it possibly mean.

Gale x Tav

Impaling

470 words ; Teen ; No Archive Warnings Apply ; Implied/Referenced Suicide, Angst with a happy ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort

When Gale is about to heed's Mystra's commands, what will you do?

Enver Gortash

Here at long last

837 words ; Mature ; No Archive Warnings Apply ; Character Study, Past Violence and Abuse, Mental Health Trauma

Gortash is so close to having the ultimate power over Baldur's Gate, he can practically taste it. However, one's mind can wander, especially in moments of waiting. What does the future Archduke of Baldurs Gate think about as he awaits his coronation?

[punchratt]

Indulging in my brainrot again, heres that longer bg3 character design post i was talking about! (@dragonageshitpostingelves, i didnt forget you <3) Also, Spoiler Warning, i talk a lot about the companions backstory and quests, so don't read if you haven't finished those. Or do, I don't care.

Im gonna be honest and admit right now that I am sadly NOT a professional character designer, but instead just a nerd who likes to draw. I think the bg3 designs are amazing as they are and deserve a hell of a lot more praise then their already getting. That being said, i have many opinions about these funny little tadpole people. The first of them being that Gale, Wyll, and Astarion should not look like that. I mean, they all literally have the same body model, just give or take few scars and some hair, then swap the head. Which i think is a little shocking considering that the girls have much more diverse body types. Normally its the other way around.

First, Astarion. I love him, but i should not be able to grate cheese on his abs. Dude was a slave surviving off rats and living in the shadows for over 200 years, he's a rouge with 8 strength and no work out plan other then squatting so he can hide better. The last thing he should have is a six pack. I am a firm believer in scrawny Astarion, that man is wet noodle, he is malnourished and it should show. I should be able to see that mans ribs. Play that boy like a xylophone. This twink is not twinking right now and its driving me insane!

Im not saying he cant be sexy, in fact i think its very important that he is sexy. A big chunk of his story has to do with his relationship with sex and how he views romance as a whole. The whole point of his story is that he seems like the sexy vampier stereotype, but is actually a much more in depth character with a very complicated relationship to sex and romance. He needs to look sexy for that to work. But you don't gotta have a six pack to look sexy! Whenever i see him without a shirt all i can think of is that abs just don't look right on him. Everything else i think they've gotten perfect, he really does look like the character he's supposed to be and i can only applaud Larian for getting it so right, just.. lose the abs.

Second, Gale. I feel like I've already summed up how i feel about his design in my last post, but i like talking so i'm gonna say more! Gale should be chubby!! All he likes to do is ponder his orb, talk to his cat, and study magic. I firmly believe that he also has a side passion for food. After all, what is cooking if not potion brewing but different? Gale can appreciate a good meal and it should show! After all, eating and food is integral to his character with the whole arcane hunger thing he has going on. Give me my dad bod Gale and all wrongs in this world will be righted.

But to be a little more serious about this, i think his story becomes all the more poetic and tragic if you view him as someone who loves food. Because just imagine that you have three things you love, magic, food, and your goddess girlfriend. Now imagine that one day, to impress your goddess girlfriend, you do something kinda really stupid and end up with a magic nuke in your chest. But wait, it gets worse! Because of this failed grand gesture your goddess girlfriend breaks up with and banishes you. She leaves you to deal with this whole thing by yourself, all you have now is your cat and cooking. But wait, it gets even worse!! No matter how much you eat, yu arent ful, so you're constantly starvinng now, and thats how you find out that the bomb in your chest feeds on magic! Which means that now Gale has to ether find a way to keep it fed or he's gonna kamikaze half the swords coast. Meaning he has to eat any magical artifacts he gets his hands on while also dealing with the emotional damage of everything else. Food, one of the only things he had left, is now a stressful reminder of the fucked up situation he's in.

Now I don't think that means Gale starts to hate food, or resent it in some way, I still think he's the adorable little foodie goofball dork who insisted on being the camp cook. But i do think it makes his whole relationship with food something much more bittersweet, which is very interesting and something i feel could be reflected better in his already amazing design.

Third, Wyll. Wyll, I believe, is the most likely to be buff out of these three. Though, I don't think he'd show it as much as he does. We know he likes to dance, and that he enjoys a good sword fight more then anything! He used to fence with his father and overall is a very active guy. He is probably the character that most matches his body, there aren't many things I'd change. That being said, he is still a warlock with less strength then a hamster. He wouldn't be that muscly.

My dude is the son of a Grand Duke, he's had a relatively cushy life that didnt really get all that much harder after his dad gave him the boot (dick move btw). He's struggled, defiantly! But i don't think it'd be a reach to say that Wyll might have a little fat on him. I dont really have much to say other then i think he'd benefit from taking those abs away and putting that bulk somewhere else. When I imagine Wyll I imagine a man with some arm game and a pudgy belly. Maybe some calf muscle too, but overall nothing too defined since he doesn't really use strength in combat. I mean, why does Wyll have more defined abs then Lae'zel? Of all the origin characters she should have the most defined abs of the group. Not these three clowns(affectionate).

Wyll is a softie with a heart of gold, he should get to have a soft body to go with it. Plus it'd add more contrast between what parts are devil and what aren't. Sharp rough horns, a scarred face, and striking but intimidating eyes juxtaposed against a soft but somewhat built frame, quick whit, and a generally nice attitude make for a very interesting design! One that i think would be much more compelling then the kinda default muscly hero build he has now.

Now compare those to the secrete fourth option i didnt tell you about! Halsin! I think Halsin is designed perfectly and there is nothing i would change. He uses a unique body model from the other three and his design perfectly captures who he is as a character. He's big, appropriately buff, and looks kind. I look at that man and i think "yeah, thats a guy who occasionally turns into a bear", and he does! He looks like a natural born leader who knows how to make those tough decisions, he looks as inviting as he acts, and he looks like he gives amazing hugs. Bear hugs if you will! That man is a bear in every sense of the word, and whats more druid then that?

I only really brought him up to set him as sort of a standard for the designs of this game, because almost every single design is just as perfect and well thought out as his. I could go on for several more paragraphs about other characters and why their also perfect, or what other small little changes id make to their designs (cough cough, Lae'zel abs, cough) but this thing is getting long enough as is.

So to conclude. Fuck abs, and get them off my boys! If you've actually read this whole monstrosity, thank you. It took me over half a day to write and i still feel like i haven't touched on everything. Like, i didn't get to praise their designs nearly as much as i wanted to, but oh well. Maybe I'll make another post about the girls, maybe ill ramble about what i do like about the boys designs, i don't know. Depends on if anyone wants that, or if i still got gas left in the tank after this. Finally, please excuse any spelling errors and the inconsistent capitals. Its late, i have dyslexia, and i'll probably go back and fix it later. Thanks again for reading!

[happyocelot]

I'm still not that familiar with the sequel, but I think Inuyasha and Moroha would be like Genma and Ranma...you know? I just get that feeling.

For InuKag Fluff Week, Day 1: Comfort! Let me know what you think! :)

@inukagfluffweek

In the modern era, she would have woken up to the sound of her alarm clock.

With a robotic beep-beep-beep, it would signal the end of sweet, blissful sleep and plunge her into the nightmare world of studying for tests she hadn't prepared for because she hadn't been to school because she had to face off against a murderous spider demon five hundred years in the past and her grandpa had told everyone in school that she had a debilitating case of maple syrup urine disease (what even was that, jii-chan?) and she also needed an emergency kidney transplant for some reason he never really explained and even through all these wild and ludicrous excuses, no one had yet asked them to produce certifications proving these illnesses because the school administration clearly wasn't that bright and for SOME reason they still required her to take all those tests ANYWAY (after her grandpa told people she needed a kidney transplant) and maybe life in the modern era wasn't all that it was cracked up to be and maybe...

Maybe...

"C'MON! I COULD BLOCK THAT IN MY SLEEP, MOROHA! YOU CAN DO BETTER THAN THAT!"

And there it was.

Kagome pulled the covers up to her ears. After years of living in the feudal era, she had trained herself to finally wake up to the roosters crowing at dawn and to go to sleep by the time the sun would set, which was around...7 pm. This would have been difficult for her eighteen-year-old self in the year 2000, at the turn of the millennium, with electricity long since introduced into every single home and wreaking havoc on her circadian rhythm.

She had struggled against that background to accomplish a 4 am wake-up and 7 pm bedtime. That was her achievement, a monumental one she would have thought laughable in the year 1996 or 15-whatever, when she had met Inuyasha for the first time.

Against all odds, Kagome had become an early bird.

"OH, YEAH? THEN TAKE THIS, OLD MAN!"

A gale-force blow sliced through the air. Kagome heard something break in the distance.

She groaned.

It was two in the morning.

Against all odds, she had become an early bird. Against all odds.

Now Inuyasha and Moroha had apparently decided that this wasn't enough, and resolved to punish her circadian rhythm yet again, pushing it to limits she had never known existed.

Why were they practicing swordfights at two in the morning?

She needed her beauty sleep, dammit.

She flattened a hand over the smooth skin of her eyes, which were definitely going to have dark circles in the morning because her husband and daughter had gotten hyper and –

"KAZE NO KIZU!"

Something broke again.

What the hell was wrong with her family.

Kagome decided that checking right now wasn't worth it. She could inspect the mass destruction tomorrow.

"DON'T MAKE ME LAUGH! ARE YOU MY DAD OR MY GRANDPA?"

So original, Moroha.

"WE'LL SEE WHO'S LAUGHING AFTER THIS! HIJIN KESSHO!"

Why did they all have to shout out their attack names? Did they all live in Sailor Moon? Showing Inuyasha that manga all those years ago in 1997 was a terrible mistake. Now he was going to shout out attack names for eternity and she would never get her beauty sleep.

"I WAS HOPING YOU'D BE USING MEIDO ZANGETSUHA!"

That was never going to happen and both of them knew it.

They knew that her wrath would be legendary if they ever tried.

Kagome was, in fact, the one who ruled this household with an iron fist. These late night/early morning shenanigans were only possible because she allowed them, however grudgingly. They would come to an end fast if some fool decided to bust out Meido Zangetsuha.

"DO YOU WANT TO DIE, MOROHA? YOUR MOM WOULD KILL US!"

She smirked and rolled onto her side.

Against all odds, she somehow drifted off to sleep.

She woke up long past the time roosters would crow at the dawn, cocooned on both sides by Inuyasha and Moroha, her little girl's leg wrapped around her belly and Inuyasha drooling onto her shoulder.

Evidently they'd grown tired and come back into the house at some point last night, or perhaps they had run out of things to blow up. Both seemed plausible.

Ah, well. She'd inspect the mass destruction later.

She had beauty sleep to get back to.

Waking up to the sound of her dear husband and darling daughter duking it out, flattening valleys, and creating massive craters at the edge of the forest in the feudal era wasn't so bad.

At least she didn't have to worry about math tests anymore.

[rentenesen]

Woven - Chapter 3

Gale x Astarion BG3 fanfiction

Summary: A/U, modern day, exploring a world where fae exist (non-dnd). Gale, once a very special child with the ability to see fae, is now a regular almost middle aged man, working as a professor. After letting a strange pale man into his house, thinking he might be there to deliver a message from Mystra, Gale quickly realizes he made a mistake.

Word Count: 1.1k The early chapters of the fic are PG but will have more adult themes later on.

Astarion pressed the knife deeper into Gale's skin, not enough to draw blood but close.

"What kind of creature are you" His voice was menacing and deep, reverberating in Gale's ears, breath hot against his cheek.

"I'm a simple mortal, I swear" Gale gasped, "Please, put the knife down and we can talk about this. I don't want to have to hurt you."

"I don't think so." Astarion let out a gruff chuckle studying his face, trying to make something out "I'm not as foolish as you seem to think, darling. Those eye of yours can see straight through my disguise and you're going to tell me why."

Gale could feel his magik start to burn low in his belly, coursing through his body with every pound of his heart. This was the first time in a while he had felt it so alive and available. He could expel the man with ease, but would he have enough energy left to fight afterwards? If only he has taken more care to ensure the thing in his chest had remained fed.

A more peaceful approach would be safer for them both Gale decided. Astarion was already inside of his house, who knew what connections he had, there was no sense in pissing him off further.

"I have a patron," Gale breathed deep to keep his voice calm, "She grants me my abilities in exchange for my service to her" It was mostly true. Gale had always carried a strange connection to the world of the fae but Mystra had compounded and grown his gifts to remarkable heights.

Astarion seemed to settle a little, his grip loosening on Gale ever so slightly. "And who might this patron be"

"You can address her as Mystra" fae's names were a sacred thing, not shared easily as power over a name meant power over oneself.

Astarion pulled back to look into Gale's eyes, seeming to believe him enough to not gut him right in that moment. He let up the pressure he had been holding against Gale's body to keep him pinned, stepping back.

"My apologies, I am not on the best terms with certain… people and you caught me off guard outside earlier."

"I caught you off guard?" Gale scoffed, his whole body was vibrating and hot from the threat, "you're the one I found casing my house, waiting to knife me" He wasn't used to this much adrenaline and he tried to calm himself with little avail.

"I was not 'waiting to knife you', like I said, I was not expecting someone like you to be here. I was simply looking for a place to rest and one cannot be too careful when they have enemies" Astarion sheathed his blade and held up his hands in a show of peace.

Gale eyed him suspiciously, enemies huh? It seemed this Astarion must have pissed someone off pretty good to be so jumpy around strangers, "And who exactly are you running from"

"Now, now" he chided "there is plenty of time to discuss our pasts. Besides, it seems that is no concern of yours, if you are indeed mortal as you claim. Not wise to get caught up in the squabbles of fae folk."

Astarion turned and stepped further into Gale's house, looking around curiously, wandering back towards the entry of kitchen.

"Uh, excuse me" Gale huffed and followed him down the hall, disgruntled and not sure exactly what to say. He should not have let the man in his house, it seemed it would not be an easy task to remove him now that he was freely invited. "What exactly are you doing here? I thought maybe you were here to pass me a message from Mystra but it's clear those are not your intentions. I think it would be best if you took your leave as soon as possible."

Astarion sat himself down at Gale's dining bench, "I thought you said you wanted to chat" he gestured for Gale to sit down across from him, his easy smile returned as if they were old friends catching up.

Gale reluctantly sat down, trying to think up ways to expel this man with no argument, "And what exactly do you want to chat about."

"Mystra.. I've heard that name. She's known for being particular about who she takes under her wing, yes?"

Gale could feel his body tense as Astarion spoke of his mistress.

"So you must be something special then" his voice was smooth as honey, looking up at Gale through his pale eyelashes. He leaned in closer, so soft compared to the man who had not moments ago, threatened his life. "We could be useful to each other, you and I"

Surely no good could come from this. A wolf sat across the table from him, offering him a deal, and he would be a fool to even hear him out. And yet… there was something about Astarion that compelled him. He looked at Gale expectantly, waiting for a response, the soft light of the kitchen catching on his sharp features, making him seem almost smaller somehow. He was not sure if it was the pity he felt for the clearly hungry and lost creature or if his own loneliness was deluding him into thinking it might not be so bad to indulge the man just a little longer.

No matter what the driving force was Gale was none the less intrigued, "What are you suggesting?"

"It's not everyday you have a fae offering you a favour." Astarion smirked "I need a place to stay, at least for a little while and… I'm sure I could find some way to repay you…"

Gale felt a blush creep up his neck at the suggestion, was he attracted to this man? He was certainly good looking and it had been a while since someone so beautiful had taken keen interest in Gale, even if that interest was clearly to get something out of him. Perhaps it was just the excitement of the evening that had his blood pumping, but he was certainly embarrassed at how his mind was wondering. He swallowed hard, hoping Astarion would not pick up on it.

"Ah well. I'm not sure this is a good idea," Gale could feel sweat forming on his hands, he started to feel lightheaded.

"Are you feeling alright"

"Huh? Yes I'm. I'm fine, I think I'm just a bit overwhelmed" Gale's breaths were pulling is faster, he tried to slow them but a dizzy darkness started to spread through the corners of his mind.

"Gale?" he could hear the man calling for him as if underwater. He tried to respond but his whole body was heavy, as if he filled with sand, slowly sifting and pull him down deeper into the darkness.

The last thing Gale felt was a cold pressure on the side of his face. It was comforting, gentle and he imagined he was years younger, still full of promise, falling asleep on the forest floor. Back when he felt so loved and safe, when he was wanted his cheek resting in the palm of Mystra's hand.

[abysskeeper]

WHABAM!!!!!!!!!!!!! Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Spread the self-love ❤️

Yay, thank you! Ok, I'm back from a weekend trip now and can pick 5 I think. I'll mix it up for fandom and go in order of publication.

A Thousand Ways to (Never) Say "I Love You" - Baldur's Gate 3, Gale/Tav (Named F!Tav), act 2, emotional hurt/comfort, fluff with a sad ending Gale hasn't been the same since Elminster delivered the charge from Mystra. Nox has finally figured out how to offer a distraction, at least for a few hours. It does not go quite according to plan. Please read this. I understand it's a 13.5k one-shot but I poured a lot of heart and time into it. It's spawned a 6 part series dealing with act 2 and I'm simultaneously working on parts 2 and 4 because I'm so incredibly normal about wizards.

Just You, Just Me - Baldur's Gate 3, Wyll/Tav (Named F!Tav), act 3, childhood friends to lovers, fluff Late one evening on the road to Baldur's Gate, Wyll is pulled away from camp by the sweet sounds of a violin. The woman he finds playing is familiar; unfortunately, he had hoped to never see her again. Result of my first Tav. Unlike the 30-something wizards above, Fi and Wyll really are just two kids trying their best, and I should write more for them.

Exit, Stage Right - The Great Ace Attorney, Herlock Sholmes/Mikotoba Yujin, Herlock Sholmes & Iris Watson, canon compliant, fluff and hurt/comfort A proper homecoming, a precious hour and a half before they needed to step on stage for the final act, and more than enough of a fool's notion of sentimentality. Herlock Sholmes was set to enjoy what little time he had with his partner before the grand finale of their ten year dance. It was a shame, then, that he had to ruin it. 3 months and nearly 20k words for a hyperspecific headcanon that maybe one other person has and appreciates. Also one of my most favorite things I've ever written.

Rebirth (oh cursed cycle that you are) - RWBY, Oscar Pine & Ozpin, volume 8 canon divergence, character study There's a fullness in his mind that's ready to burst at the seams. There's a clawing in his heart searching for the presence now missing. When Oscar said he didn't want the merge to happen, he didn't realize how close he really was to having everything he never wanted. Tied for first as my favorite thing I've ever written for RWBY*, and easily one of the top five things I've ever written at all. Weird and speculative are what Oscar deserves for his situation.

Under Guise - SWTOR, Jedi Consular/Cipher Nine, OCxOC, fluff, Tumblr prompt fill A night at an Alderaanian ball is not exactly how Trick wants to be spending her time. Pestered by a man she has a distaste for even less so. Until suddenly, it was exactly what she wanted. Beloveds having fun. For as much as I dislike looking back and editing some stuff, this has really withstood the test of time, and I had an absolute blast writing it.

*(Bonus shout out to Chapter 4: Interlude: Children of Fate of my fic A Funny Little Thing Called Trust. I can't recommend the whole fic because I do someday want to go back and edit it up to my current standards, but the chapter itself is the other thing tied for first as the best thing I've ever written for RWBY)

[blackjackkent]

The battle to free Halsin went quite well! We intercepted the goblins who were trying to escape the area, which would have lit up the whole temple against us, and no one took a ton of damage.

My favorite part was when Halsin slipped and completely ate shit on the ice left by Gale's Ray of Frost and Gale kind of stood there and stared at him:

Everyone's making super tired noises, so the plan is to get Halsin out as quickly and quietly as possible and then make camp on the road.

Time to have a chat with Mr. Bear.

As Hector approaches him, the bear's form shifts and twists, resolving itself slowly into the most massive elf Hector has ever seen.

Halsin stands at least a head over Hector's six feet, a broad-shouldered and thick-muscled stone wall of a man. His face is scarred, bearing the record of a thousand fights, but he looks down at the group of his rescuers with an air of benevolence, and his voice is kind as he dusts himself off.

"Pardon the viscera. One should cherish all of nature's bounty...but goblin guts are quite far down on the list." He grins crookedly at Hector. "You aided a bear without knowing if it would savage you? A true friend of nature - or perhaps a lunatic." He inclines his head slowly. "Either way, I owe thanks. I am the druid Halsin."

Hector squints at him. "You're Halsin - the Master Halsin of the Emerald Grove?"

Halsin smiles. "Yes, but just Halsin will suffice. Unbecoming to demand honorifics from the one who saved my hide."

"I've been to the Emerald Grove. It's in danger." The words spill out of Hector perhaps a little too quickly. He desperately wants to be gone from this place, to impress upon Halsin the urgency of leaving as soon as possible.

His words elicit a frown from Halsin, but no surprise. "I am aware," he says sadly. "I foolishly left it vulnerable to this rabble. There's work to be done." He hesitates, then looks more closely at Hector and the others. His frown deepens sharply. "Hrm. That look in your eyes. I've seen it before. Are you feeling all right?"

Without waiting for an answer, he lifts a hand and sends a burst of golden energy surging over Hector, closing his eyes as if listening for something only he can hear.

When he lets his hand fall and the light fade, he looks grim.

"Oak Father preserve you, child... You're infected, aren't you? The mind flayers' spawn..."

It has been, at the very least, twenty years since anyone referred to Hector as 'child' - but it reminds him of the elders at the monastery, the affection and concern of those who were not his parents and yet were his family. Hector feels something loosen in his chest with relief, and he nods wearily.

Halsin is still watching him thoughtfully. "But...something's different. You're aware of the monster inside you. You don't bow to the Absolute, like the True Souls do. How is this possible...?"

He begins to circle the group slowly, examining them from all sides.

"I escaped from an illithid ship after being infected," Hector says. "Maybe the process was interrupted."

Halsin grunts pensively. "Perhaps. But I wouldn't want to place all my faith in blind luck. It's no coincidence that you found me here, I'll wager? You're after a cure for the parasite."

Again a silent nod from Hector, and this time he can't hide the plea for assistance in his eyes. Halsin sighs. "I've been studying these parasites for a while now. Ever since I discovered these so-called True Souls are infected with them. Someone is using very powerful magic to modify these tadpoles. They are using them to exert control over the infected." He shakes his head. "I'm sorry to say, I can't undo that magic, which means I can't cure you." He sees Hector's gaze sink, and adds gently, "But that doesn't mean I can't help."

He looks around at the battered bodies of the dead goblins. "I didn't find what I came here for - a way to remove the tadpoles - but I found the next best thing. I found out where they come from. That must be where these enchantments are placed on them, and it's where you'll find your cure."

Hector straightens a little, hope flaring in him again. So far, Halsin seems to know the most of anyone they've talked to about exactly what they're up against. "Tell me what you've learned about the tadpoles' origins."

"I overheard that the cultists are sending all of their captives to Moonrise Towers. Innocents go in, True Souls come out. Given that all of these True Souls are infected, it has to be the source of this magic." Halsin snuffs out a breath in a manner reminiscent of the bear he just was, and looks at Hector intently. "If you want to find a cure, you must head there and discover how the tadpoles are being manipulated."

Hector nods slowly. This tracks with what he heard from the Zhent trader outside, and it's a plan, the clearest they've had so far. "You seem to know a lot about this," he says hopefully. "Will you come with me to Moonrise?"

Halsin shakes his head. "I wish I could, but there's still work I"ve yet to finish." His eyes harden, a flicker of the beast behind the placid exterior. "Blood I've yet to spill." He hesitates, then goes on, looking between his four rescuers. "I've no right to ask more of you, but if you could help me...I'd be free to join your journey to Moonrise. I cannot allow these butchers to threaten my grove. The natural order must be preserved."

Hector seizes on this eagerly. He wanted to help the grove anyway and wasn't really interested in leaving until that situation was dealt with - and Halsin is seeming like a more useful traveling companion all the time. "All right," he says. "How do I help?"

Halsin seems to relax, and a smile flicks across his face. "My thanks. If you prevail, I'll owe you the debt of a lifetime." He glances towards the door leading to the upper floors. "Rare is the beast that survives decapitation. Help me eliminate the drow Minthara, the hobgoblin Dror Ragzlin, and that perversion of a priestess, Gut. They are the ones holding these parasites together. Remove them and nature will cure itself."

Hector grimaces thoughtfully. He has seen all three of these people, but none of them are alone in a scenario where killing them individually seems likely. For all their caution earlier, it feels like open battle may be the only option, if destroying those three is the goal. "Having a shapeshifting bear-druid at my side might make things easier."

Halsin smiles ruefully. "Be warned. My presence could make things much more difficult. I can only restrain my bear form so much. I won't be able to help but attack goblins." He shakes his head. "If I join you, we'll likely have to slaughter this entire place. You may want to use discretion when approaching the goblin leaders."

That gives Hector some pause. He doesn't relish the idea of fighting the whole place, and maybe there is a chance of tricking all three leaders individually. On the other hand...he has neither skill nor inclination for deception (particularly trickery with the parasite, which seems the most effective option, but his skin is still crawling from the last attempt with Ragzlin), and it's just as likely to lead to a straight fight anyway if he fails - and Halsin would be a strong asset to have in that case.

And...this is a temple of Selune. A place so like his home. These blasphemous things should be driven out of it.

He draws a slow breath and lets it out. "Come with me," he says firmly.

Halsin inclines his head, moments before the bear transformation begins to take hold of him again.

"So be it. May Silvanus lend us nature's fury."

[youaretwicemine]

Beyond the Sea

What if death is just the beginning of the next adventure?

This short story was loosely inspired by the prompt found here. It's not meant to be super polished, it was a one-shot, but feedback and constructive criticism are welcome! I'm also taking title suggestions. I don't think much of Beyond the Sea, it doesn't sum up the idea like I want, but everything else evades me right now.

In Logres, they say the dead pass into a great valley, sheltered on either side by mountains around a calm lake, set apart from the noise and destruction of this world. There they rest, in the land we call Aros, until their legacy has faded and the living remember them no more. Tall crystal-blue ships sail from that valley, and thus the dead pass out of memory, ti hwnt i’r mor, beyond the sea. The winds of the equinox blow through the forest near Edrych Lake, and I shake out my woolen mantle in preparation for the 106th autumn since I left Logres. My coracle swings softly out to the middle of the smooth water, trees arcing from the banks in golden-green panoply. When I arrived here, poisoned by the grief of leaving my family, I hardly left the lake day or night. Clinging to my old life, gazing down through the frigidly still waters at my home, wishing I could travel as far as my sight did, back from this silence. As winter stretched to spring, and months became decades, missing them became less painful. I visited the lake twice a year, watched my children grow and have children of their own, happy their lives were to be filled with joy longer than mine had been. All there was to learn and do in my new life soothed grief for a time, and I soon began using my interest in farming to improve Aros’ food production. I gathered friends about me, whom I loved as dearly as any family, and this, too, helped drive away the darkness. 

The best and worst in this fulfilling season began one day in high summer, while my friends and I inspected the wheat fields in the agricultural district. I heard my name called from behind and turned. 

“Efa?” A man in a crimson tunic, dark-haired and bearded, ran towards me. Alan. My husband. 

It had been nearly fifty years, but his face in that first glimpse looked just as I remembered it from my last moments alive. Only now, instead of concern and pain filling his eyes with tears, joy lit his face more brightly than the golden sun itself. I ran headlong, knocking both of us over in my haste, so that we were kneeling in the mud as he folded me to him and we wept. Looking up, I recalled the way his eyebrows wrinkled and lips pressed when he cried happy tears, the way he’d looked on our wedding day and at the births of each of our children. I had memorized that look, in the first weeks here, fearing I’d never see it again. He caught me staring at his face and flushed beneath his tan, as we studied one another for a moment in silence. 

“You have sunburn,” I said, touching his nose where the skin was peeling slightly. Then the absurdity of that being my first sentence to him in fifty years struck me, and we burst into laughter as Alan helped me to my feet. 

“And you, m’lady, are more speckled than a sparrow, and lighter-haired than usual. But other than these gifts the sun has left us, we are as of old, you and I.” Alan dipped me dramatically for a kiss as I giggled, my witty remark cut happily short.

We dwelt in bliss for a time, visiting the lake together each spring and fall thereafter. Our children had moved out of Logres to neighboring lands, where still we saw them safe with their families. Alan and I organized our own belongings in a new house on the northeastern shore of the lake while we talked about our children– Ellis, Jenna, and Tarian. 

“This change of homeland will mean they don’t join us here in Aros–each country has a different place between one life and the next. But all go across the sea, ti hwnt i’r mor.” 

“It will be good to see them again,” he replied. “Before my ship went down in that gale, I lost the second game of cards to little Llio and she owes me a rematch for best of three.” 

I batted his arm and rolled my eyes. “You’re telling me you sank your ship because you couldn’t beat your 7-year-old granddaughter at cards? Seems you’ve grown old and senile.”

“No, it was because I couldn’t stay away from you a moment longer, my acerbic bride.” He grinned and kissed my cheek.

 As I resumed unpacking, I saw a keepsake box that held a carved wooden whistle. Seeing my curiosity, Alan took it in his hands and turned it between them before he handed it back to me so I could look at the patterns on it. A sparrow holding a sheaf of grain, and what looked like waves on a shore. 

“Remember Tarian, Efa? I mean, remember from before the lake?” 

My last son, who I never got to know beyond his first beautiful day. “Yes, of course.” 

“He loved you so. I know he never truly…well, I told him stories about you, and how you used to whistle for the wind, back home in Logres. Then when he learned to whittle, he made this for me, and told me if I was ever becalmed all I had to do was think of you and whistle for a wind. I took it with me on all my voyages from then on.” 

My heart clenched at this reminder of all I’d missed, but joy trickled in at the thought of my family’s affection. Alan took the whistle and slipped it into his pocket. 

The day before the autumn equinox, some decades later, Alan and I sat near the newly harvested wheat field, talking as we often did of the sea. “We’ll go together,” I said, as we’d planned a thousand times in our fancy. With both our graves visited less and less, our families’ strong memories of us would likely end with the last grandchild, little Llio. “The crystal ship will slip into the water, and we’ll see…I don’t know what. That’s the adventure, I suppose.” 

His head in your lap, Alan agreed. “Adventure, for certain! A full sail in the sunrise and my dearest love by my side, never again to be parted! Often, I wonder what’s beyond–we have guesses, but none who leave ever return. Will it not be splendid to know?” I woke in the night to an empty bed beside me. Alan, where are you? I didn’t find him inside despite calling out, and hurried to the edge of the lake, still wrapped in my blankets. Alan stood looking down the valley to the harbor. He turned at my approach and smiled, but his eyes were sad as he reached to hug me. 

“Darling, I’ve just received the news– Llio died this evening. The ship is ready.” 

I twisted out of his arms to look at his face. “What’s wrong? There’s more, isn’t there? This should be happy news, we get to sail together…” I trailed off as his hand gripped mine tightly, as though he feared I might vanish any moment. 

“Efa…I am to sail in half an hour. You…have not yet been forgotten. The messenger wouldn’t tell me how, he said that you must inquire yourself, but you can’t sail with me and I—” 

He broke off, and sat on the bench, hands covering his face. I went over, tears dimming my eyes, and took his hands and kissed them. Then I buried my face in his chest and we both wept. Neither of us could speak for a while. We broke apart somewhat and our eyes met, and in that look was all our love, and all our sorrow, too. Never have I felt so understood as in that moment. The sun was rising, and at last I broke the silence. 

“I’ll help you pack.”

I do not know how to set down the parting itself. In it was nothing remarkable to any of the others on the pier, no shouted words of farewell, nor even weeping. We had said our goodbyes in that long moment at the lake, and nothing else was needed. Few words passed between us as Alan packed his belongings and we walked to the harbor. The pale logistics of boarding preparations blurred around me; Alan dealt with them speedily, never leaving my side or letting go of my hand. At last he was standing facing me, holding both my hands now, and I knew the sea was taking him away. 

“Alan,” I said, quietly so that no one nearby could hear. I meant to say more and could not, but he seemed to know. 

“I have something for you, Efa.” He pulled out the carved whistle. “To remind you I love you, always. I’ll see you soon. If you’re ever becalmed, think of me and Tarian and whistle for a wind.” And he was gone.

I feel the whistle in my skirt pocket, a small lump of memory, as I paddle out onto the lake now. I slept fitfully last night, unable to stop wondering why he had gone and I had stayed. At last I gave up trying to rest and flung my dark green mantle around my shoulders, marveling at the beauty of the sunrise and marveling still more that I notice–that beauty still arrests me, even now. I look down through the water. My grave, tucked in a corner of the old cemetery, sits bathed in the sunlight of the other world that’s no longer home. No answers there, it looks the same as always. I turn to leave, but a flash of yellow catches my eye as a gray-eyed teenager with a bright golden tunic and scabby knees walks through the rows of stones, carrying a few small blue flowers. She places them on my headstone and looks thoughtfully around, then leaves. Why? I don’t recognize her as a family member, or even someone who looks related to me. 

“I was at the cemetery again, putting flowers on that lady’s grave.” A friend joined her on the way home, and now the girl begins to tell how she went to the field yesterday and wandered across a random grave–mine. Seemingly, she liked my epitaph (I’ve never thought to read it), wondered who I was, and found some spotty records in the bowels of the local library that mention my marriage to Alan and early death in childbirth. “She died over 100 years ago, and she was only 34,” the girl says, curls bouncing with intensity. “I’ve always thought it’s sad when people get forgotten. I can’t explain it, but when I read the bits of information they had about her, I wished…I wished we could have known each other. And that she could have lived to see her children all grow up.” She pulls out a portrait of me at my wedding, auburn hair cascading around my shoulders. “This was in the records, and the librarian said I could take it, since no one’s asked for it in the while it’s been there. I’m going to keep going there, Mair.” 

And she does. Over the next 70 years, Amser visits my grave regularly. When she lives nearby, it’s every week. Later she moves to the city and comes monthly, always bringing wildflowers, always with a faint smile. I wonder about the rest of her life, but she must really not be blood family–the lake won’t let me see her anywhere but the cemetery. As I always have, I carry on, missing Alan but intrigued by this strange girl’s remembrance. One of my friends on the agricultural team visits often with her children, and I am an honorary aunt for the first time.

It’s the autumn equinox again when a messenger finds me in the fields again, this time working on an irrigation system for growing rice. 

“My lady Efa, your ship has arrived. It is time for you to leave Aros for the sea.” 

Amser! She must be here then! I want to meet her before I go, but swept up in the preparations for sailing, I forget to ask the messenger. Standing on the pier, my thoughts are a tangle as I think about all the people I knew and the adventure still ahead. I feel a tap on my shoulder and turn to see gray eyes and bouncing dark hair. 

“Amser!” We are already friends. I embrace her and ask, “How did you find me so fast?” 

“I didn’t, really,” she says, her voice familiar and yet strangely clearer and deeper than it was through the lake. “I’m sailing, you see, and when I saw you…well, I felt sure it was the same woman in my picture. To think after all these years I get to meet you, Efa!” We laugh with delight, but something she said strikes me as odd. 

“You’re sailing already? But you must have just gotten here!” 

“Yes,” she says, “I am already forgotten. I had no family, you know, and all my friends have already gone. I got to see some of them on the way to the harbor, though. Mair has great-grandchildren now!” She says it without regret or envy in her voice, and I blink back tears. All this time, she’s been making sure I haven’t been forgotten, while she… 

“Why did you do it?” I hadn’t meant to ask the question, but it doesn’t bother Amser. 

“I wanted you to know someone remembered, still. And maybe…oh, I don’t know, it gave me someone to care about, in a way. I wanted to give you what I knew I wouldn’t have– time.” 

I think about the friends I made here after Alan left, the discoveries my team and I worked for, the children who had run screaming around my house playing pirates, and I knew it had been a good gift. 

“Well, may I give you something in return?” I pull out a whistle, whittled to look like the one Tarian made but painted bright yellow, with a carving of wildflowers and rosemary. We board the tall crystal-blue ship, its bows pointed toward the horizon. “If ever you’re becalmed, all you have to do is whistle for a wind.” The high notes rise on the air and the sails billow out, slipping out of Aros Harbor ti hwnt i’r mor, beyond the sea.

[danieltrades]

❖ tell me of home ❖

Rating: Mature (mentions of sexual activity-non explicit, cursing, tav trauma mentioned- cut off before going too deep.)

Pairing: Astarion x Dox (Tav) - Pre-relationship

Summary: Dox (Tav) realizes something about his feelings for Astarion and is not okay with it.

Series: TO BE ADDED

Tags: 2nd person POV, He/They Protagonist, Transmasc Protagonist, Dox Backstory, Pining, Light Angst, Dox is Bad at Feelings, Dox is ignoring his feelings, Dox has a -1 to intelligence, Act 1, Pre-Confession, Lae'zel and Gale being friends(and dipshits), Based off of Sovereign Glut's In Game Dialog

A/N: To be seen is to be known. And by Gods, that's terrifying. I'm looking to update this as a series because I adore my scrungly Dox and how incredibly insane he can be.

Heads up this wasn't beta read so if you find some issues--just let me know and I'll do some edits. Hope you enjoy!

Word count: >1k

Story under the cut!

“Tell me of home.”

Sovereign Glut’s words echo through your mind, and you can feel the spores attempt to reach out to hold onto the memories that have such a title. You, Dox, haven’t thought of home for a long time. In your heart, you weren’t even sure if you had a home to begin with. 

While prior to your adventures, you could have claimed Baldur’s Gate to have been your home. But truly, that wasn’t the case. You were only a citizen within those walls for a short amount of time, and while you practically drank in that city like fine wine…that place wasn’t your home. You could barely call yourself a Baldurian and the only reason you felt comfortable enough to do so was because you managed to win quite a few bar fights. Being trained as The Lady of Silver’s paladin from a young age had some perks. But no…as much as you tried- Baldur’s Gate wasn’t home. Not yet, at least. 

You thought about the woods you grew up in. You could barely remember it now–as if a faint memory. That wasn’t your home either…you were orphaned at a young age and sent to live in an isolated community. The people who raised you…used you. They trained you to be their offering to Selûne. Her perfect warrior…her perfect cleric...your priest's perfect-

. . .

Only after you broke the oath those people made you take, do you realize that the goddess had nothing to do with your upbringing. Your anger was misplaced. But still…home did not reside there.

So..what is home to you, little dove?

Your hardened eyes glance over to your party;  Gale, and Lae’zel,had trailed off to do gods know what. From where you stood, you can see the two bickering over..something. Gale must have gotten a little too interested in the local fauna. Strangely he and Lae’zel had developed a friendship built on one getting into trouble while the other got them out. Much like a mouse finds companionship with a cat. You can’t help but let out a gentle chuckle upon seeing the gith take off her gloves to smack the man in the back of the head for getting his face too close to some mushrooms. His body goes flying forward and the spores erupt around him. The coughing noise he makes sounds like a mixture of a hyena’s laugh and a sad boar.

After a moment, you realized that a third member was not in your field of vision. That was until you felt a hand come down on your shoulder. You find yourself glancing to your right, Astarion suddenly appearing beside you. He looks..bored. And tired. His eyes softened in a way that you never got to see too often. You can’t help but look at the lines of his face-studying them in a way you really haven’t been able to before. The longer you look, the more your stomach churns in a way you’re not used to. 

“What is the hold up?” You hear him sigh. His voice lulls in a way that makes your ears turn red. For the first time you find yourself happy to be wearing the stupid wooden crown. You never realized how nice his hand on your shoulder felt.

You shouldn’t be feeling like this.

You’ve acknowledged your infatuation for the vampire a long time ago. He was beautiful–and he knew it. You didn’t have to tell him. But his looks or the ‘are we about to die’ and ‘holy shit we didn’t die’ sex weren’t the only things that caused your heart to stutter when you spoke to him.

Astarion and you had this unspoken friendship–one that developed from a connection you formed as you both begin to divulge in your pasts. Also the way that you both were just...chaotic. You both understood each other…Astarion was the first person to actually see you and you were the first to see him.

But it wasn’t until now..until you were being asked by this stupid fucking mushroom what your home was did your heart pound more than usual. And what Astarion seeing you actually meant.

Your mind flutters from place to place, and you can feel the spores mingle their way into memories but…fantasies of what home could be. A place in Baldur’s Gate, a warm bed…Astarion in that bed with you. Not because of your lust or your bonding but because of something so much worse. Something that you fear more than any devil, or creature you could face. The word itself makes you want to vomit. You knew you would do anything for Astarion since the Grove but knowing the reason-

Your eyes catch for a moment, his vibrant red ones pierce into your dull purple. You can see his pupils dart for a moment-he’s gotten to know you so well. He knows your stares and what they mean but this one causes his eyebrows to raise. He looks... concerned?

Fuck.

You quickly look away from him, moving to the side so his hand slides off of your shoulder. Astarion gives you a confused look, and his eyes soften as if the act may have hurt him. However, you’re refusing to acknowledge it. Your heart is beating too fast in your chest.

“My home is where I travel, and we need to set up camp now,” You quickly explain to Glut. “We can avenge your Circle after we rest. “

You give the strange figure a nod, before excusing yourself to grab Gale and Lae’zel from their mission to piss off the other myconids.

“What the hell was that?” You hear Astarion question no one in particular as you try to expand the distance between you both. However, the Sovereign Glut responds.

“A heartbroken song.”