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you will never in a hundred years convince me that Gibari and Ladekahn didn't fuck

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I HATE being lead teacher it's so fucking stressful why do people keep giving me responsibilities I DON'T FUCKING WANT. I just want to teach English classes clock out and go home.

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I didn't make 52 but a good reading year nonetheless!

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Reactions to Mystra’s Orders for Gale

The companions: Mystra is selfish, petty, and incorrect in her assessment of Gale’s worth. Unbelievable. Poor Gale :(

Tara: I WILL HUNT DOWN EACH AND EVERY GOD FOR SPORT

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Commission for GrayHox | ΘΔ thank you so much it was fun! My first proper Durge and Karlach art I guess?

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third day on antidepressants IS THIS HOW NORMAL PEOPLE FEEL ALL THE TIME WTF

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WHY IS HE SO CUTE

I was going to go for Zaddy Owen but I think I changed my mind

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So I finally started playing Sandrock and I have some opinions

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Low quality meme 🩸🔮

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Late night (or would it be early morning by this point?) cooking

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take me to church

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In time travel movies, when the time traveler asks 'What year is this?!?' they're always treated like they're being weird for asking.

When in reality, if you go 'What year is this?!?' people will just say '2024. Crazy huh.' and you go 'Wtf where has my youth gone.'

And if you ask 'And what month??' people won't judge you, they'll just go like 'SEPTEMBER!!! Can you believe it?!?!' and you go 'WHAT?!? Last time I checked we were in May?!?'

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Does everyone know there is now a mod that exists solely to give Gale hayfever?

Because there is now a mod that exists solely to give Gale hayfever.

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cherished

Bloodweave, 625 words, cw none

Just a little musing on why Astarion might tell Gale not to use the crown

Power. You longed for it even as a mortal, in the way those born into privilege often do, as though it were your right to hold the fate of the lesser in the palm of your hand. And so the world seemed to agree with you, your rise through the courts almost a matter of course, until it didn’t, until the Gur reminded you that the only true power resides at the tip of a blade, until your will was crushed mercilessly beneath Cazador’s heel.

For two long centuries, you cowered helpless in the dark, your body not your own, your speech not your own, even your smile not your own. All that you could lay claim to was the endless, gnawing hunger that Cazador would never let you sate, and the burning hatred for him that ate away at your heart. At first you prayed, and when that failed you dreamed, letting your tortured mind float away. The night Cazador carved his infernal script into your skin, you dreamed of flaying him alive and leaving his living corpse to burn in the sun, over and over, until even that fantasy lost all meaning.

Power. That was all you thought of when you met the wizard, chosen of Mystra, archmage of Waterdeep. To have that wrapped around your pinky, you wouldn’t have to fear Cazador, or Gur, or anything. There was a familiar longing in his deep brown eyes, a gnawing emptiness desperate to be filled, a hunger begging to be sated. It would be easy, you thought then, the pattern well worn, the dance you knew off by heart.

And then, as you did two hundred years ago, you stumbled.

It wasn’t the rejection that phased you, though it stung more than you let on. You’d succeeded at more stubborn targets before (don’t think about him don’t remember his name and his sweet shy face not now) and it was just a matter of waiting. He wanted you, after all, you could smell it on him, and he would be all the easier to snare the longer he held himself back. The orb could be managed, you were sure, and if not, well, having a bomb to rival the runepowder tales of old in your back pocket was useful in itself, anyway. And yet, it was the rejection, in a way, the disarming of your usual toolkit, that lead to your downfall. Because eventually, your mask slipped.

It was small, at first. Everyone had grown used to your barbs but you held back with Gale, all honeyed words and light, suggestive touches. But one night, you slipped up, tired, hungry, you made some sarcastic remark you can barely even remember, now. And Gale laughed, and insulted you back, and in spite of yourself, you laughed, too. And suddenly, it wasn’t about the Netheril, or the Absolute, or Mystra, and though even now you cannot admit it, it never truly was. It was about that longing in his eyes that echoed yours, not the vampiric hunger but the emptiness that had eaten away from you before you even knew the name Cazador Szarr. When Gale laughed with you, for a moment, you didn’t feel empty anymore.

Power. That’s what Gale offers you now, your hands clasped tightly in his as he pleads for you to join him. It’s everything you’ve dreamed of, it’s safety, it’s revenge, it’s your right. But as the stars of Elysium dance around you, all you can think of is barbed words around the campfire, of his head resting on your shoulder, the way he smiled when he told you his real name, of wanting to kiss him so badly it ached.

Power. It’s all you ever longed for, until it wasn’t.

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But the sad face he makes when he realizes that may really be their last kiss tho 😭 wtf larian

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My favorite thing about BG3 fandom is we all just collectively decided Gale's Wizardly Updo was canon.

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I've finished the game 4 times and have two more in act III and I've been a goody goody in all of them :) There's still so much to discover even if you're still being generally good!

I do recommend being origin Astarion and picking all the sassy dialogue, it's in character for him and most people don't get too mad about it haha

I've been thinking about and playing bg3 for about two and a half months almost solidly and completed my first run two days ago.

My silly little hyperfixated brain is thinking about every possible encounter in the game I may have missed. Of course, it's a repayable game, so I boot up a Durge for something brand new (although the pale elf will likely be romanced once again) but I cannot bring myself to do something that will hurt them amd/or others. Why am I this way?

I have seen heartbreaking clips of these characters, and I want to experience it first hand, but I'm so tragic I cannot cope with myself hahahahah