#it's where i reblog bg3 things

[aethernoise]

So, I typically keep my BG3 posting to my side account, but this is far too amazing to not put in front of a much wider audience so BEHOLD!! my Tav (Xandra) and Gale by the incomparable @britishmuffin

This ship has me in a mage hand stranglehold and I'm not complaining. I love them & I am obsessed with how gorgeous Muffin drew them here. My crops are watered my skin is clear my spell slots are all replenished. Thank you for your time (& Muffin for an always wonderful experience).

[merlinmerlot]

“Morality is not black and white” this is dnd dipshit edgelord there’s literally alignments moron

i was gonna write a whole ass thing (this is one of my fav things to talk abt) but apparently you're actually just lame lol. thank you for calling me a tranny tho <3

[a2zillustration]

Farewell

Not "farewell," but "see you later."

| First | | Previous |

[[ All Croissant Adventures (chronological, desktop) ]]

[[ All Croissant Adventures (app) ]]

...Time to blather on under the cut. I've got thank yous, some notes about potential future comics, and if you scroll to the end of the post, I've decided to compile Croissant Adventures into a physical book. It's mostly for me, so I can hold all TWO HUNDRED AND FIVE of these strips in my hands, as a brick, but if you'd like to own a copy as well, I'll have a link to the preorders down below. If this is where you're going to stop reading, I'll extend a quick heartfelt thanks to you for joining me on this adventure!

Thank you, reader.

This is undeniably the largest project I've ever tackled in my art career; it was never supposed to be this big, and I expected maybe a handful of people to read it, at most. Instead, it became this massive project that I've been working on for ten months straight, and in the end these characters meant so much to me. I'm incredibly grateful for everyone who's bothered to read my little comic strips, whether it was just one or two, or if you've been here since the beginning, following Croissant's adventure from the minute they plummeted off the nautiloid. Thank you so much for being here and supporting this project. Thank you to everyone who left kind words and comments, sent me asks about Croissant, liked or reblogged these posts, or just read these and enjoyed them! While I was determined to finish this project no matter what happened, you certainly made it all the more fun and kept me excited to tell you the next part of Croissant's story.

Thank you, Larian.

If by some chance someone at Larian ever happens to see these, I also want to give an immense thank you to everyone who was a part of making this game. I don't play that many games these days, but BG3 rocketed to the top of my all-time favorite games almost immediately. (It was also the game that made me feel the most out of anything I've ever played; I got legitimately depressed for a few days during my run don't worry I'm fine now we're all good haha). You can tell there was so much work, and so much love involved in this game's development, and I'm so happy the studio has been rewarded with multiple awards in recognition of that dedication to making a fantastic game. Thank you again for sharing this story with us, and I can't wait to see what the studio does in the future.

Is this goodbye?

I'm hoping this is less of a "goodbye," and more of a "see you later." I'll probably take a bit of a break, since I've put off other projects for months, and art fight is happening, but I have many more things I'd like to add to Croissant's story! I have yet to play the epilogue, and I intend to illustrate parts of that depending on what happens. I also have a handful of comics for post-game Breadweave, in addition to some scenes I thought would've happened in-game but weren't canon so I left them out of the original story. (If I haven't gotten to these in a few months and you find yourself wondering about Croissant again, my ask box is always open, feel free to give me a good kick to get me back into their story, lol).

...A book?

I said I never intended this project to be so large, and I meant it. But now that I'm sitting here with two hundred and five Baldur's Gate 3 Tav comics, I really wanted to compile them into a physical book for me to hold. This is mostly for me, but if you'd also like one, I'll have a preorder available in my shop until the end of July.

✨✨✨ Croissant Adventures Preorder ✨✨✨

If you made it to the end of this post, I can only thank you again, from the bottom of my heart. I hope Croissant's story brought you joy, and if you're able to play BG3, I hope that you're having just as much fun in your own tavs' stories.

[curiositypolling]

pls reblog for sample size etc

I make occasional useless polls :)

[mahou-shougiogio]

it's absolutely upsetting seeing people in the BG3 fandom say things like

"I can't believe that Asterion likes women, he's just gay"

"Shadowheart is 100% a lesbian"

statements like that in a game where all the companions are open about liking all genders is plain bi/panphobic! Whether the characters prefer one gender over the other, they're still bi/pan!!

If you're romancing Asterion, Gale, Wyll, etc as a man, it doesn't make them gay, similarly if you’re romancing Shadowheart, Karlach, Laezel, etc as a woman, it doesnt make them a lesbian.

You can relate to and express your own queer identity through bi/pan characters without changing their sexuality I promise 💕

♻️ reblogs are allowed/encouraged ♻️

[avocado-writing]

First, I am absolutely obsessed with your writing. I go feral every time I get a notification that you've made a post. When you pick a request of mine I've been reblogging it multiple times so it's easier for me to find it to reread. Please keep up the good work. You are appreciated. 💛

I was wondering if you could please write how the bg3 companions+ Halsin, Rolan, Dammon and Zevlor would react to finding out that a Tav/reader with considerable facial scarring has been harboring feelings for them, but has been afraid to tell them because they're afraid they will be rejected for their appearance; something that has happened many times.

I know it's a big ask, so if it's too much please just pick the characters that you want. Though, I would appreciate it if you included Rolan.

Again, love your works! Make sure to take care of yourself as you go through your backlog!

hello lovely! i've actually written something similar to this for the ladies, so I'll just be writing for the men for this one!

Astarion

When he finds out you’ve been rejected for how you look, goes on a long rant about how shallow people can be (definitely ironic). Cue the “I probably draw more looks than you” line.

This is all to show you that he doesn’t care how you look. He fell in love with your kindness first, your actions.

Absolutely reciprocates your feelings no matter what.

Drops little affections every day. “You’re perfect you know.” “My love, you are wonderful.” “You have my whole heart.”

Gale

He admires your brain and heart. To him, you are perfection. Honestly he confesses to you before you get the chance to admit your feelings.

When you tell him you feel the same but were worried due to past rejections he reassures you it doesn’t matter to him.

But if it matters to you he will ask if it’s something you’d like to try to fix or hide with magic, and will take the appropriate steps afterwards.

He loves you. He’d do anything to make you happy.

Wyll

Starts trying to woo you with romantic poetry recited or written out and left at your tent, which you assume must be for someone else - it takes his confession for you to realise he likes you.

You have a long heart-to-heart discussing your fears about how you look, where he takes the chance to confirm his feelings aren’t affected by anything, something you desperately needed to hear.

Holds you close every moment he has a chance to, giving you little kisses peppered across your face.

Halsin

Is confused why you think he’d care about your scars? They’re a sign of your life lived, the obstacles you’ve overcome.

He points at his own face. “They are a mark of pride, my heart. Nothing more.”

Spends a long time holding you, whispering praises to you, especially when you’re making love. Nothing he likes more than pressing his mouth against the shell of your ear and telling you how lovely you are, voice gravelly with desire.

Will make you feel like the most treasured thing in the world.

Rolan

The two of you are skirting around each other for a while. You too scared to tell him, him too proud to confess to you.

Perhaps one day you have a bad experience with a stranger’s reaction to your face, and he finds you crying. Asks what’s wrong. When he finds out, he’s furious.

“I can’t believe they’d care about something like that. You saved this city, they should love you like I do.”

And just like that he’s said it, and you’re overwhelmed. Leads to him choking out his feelings for you, cheeks even brighter red than usual. You tease him a bit, and kiss him. He’s never been happier.

[nerdallwritey]

˖⁺‧₊˚✦ 𝓛𝑒𝓉'𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝒹𝑜 𝒶𝓃𝓎𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒽𝒾𝓁𝒶𝓇𝒾𝑜𝓊𝓈 ✦˚₊‧⁺˖

Hi, I'm Emma! Welcome to my writing blog, where there's banter abound!

I'm currently writing Astarion x f!reader fics, but plan to expand and am open to requests! Be warned: My content is NSFW so if that's not your thing, feel free to skip it! MDNI

Where else can you find me?

AO3 // Main Blog (I reblog tons of bg3 stuff over there!)

𝔅𝔢𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔶 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔅𝔞𝔯𝔡 - (Posted in order chronologically)

An Evening to Ourselves (18+): When Astarion propositions you for the first time, you're anything but excited. // AO3

“I, uh-” It was too much. The look on his face was too intense. You felt too exposed despite the layers of armor currently clad to your body. “I’m scared,” you admitted quietly. “Don’t be,” he whispered, leaning in and kissing you on the cheek. “I’ll be gentle.”

Just to Ruin Me (18+): The morning after you spend the night with Astarion, you learn another thing or two. // AO3

“You don’t have to tell me any of this right now,” you said. “A lot has changed in the past few hours and there’s no rush in sharing these things with me. I know how hard it was to talk about your past the first time.” “It was necessary, though,” Astarion looked over at you, his expression determined. “You needed to know what we might be up against. And you might need to know this too.” “If you want to tell me, then I’m happy to listen, but please don’t force yourself for my sake.” Astarion released a puff of air from his nose. “You keep doing that.” “Doing what?” “Asking me what I want. Letting me choose.”

Cheeks All Flushed (18+): It's time for the Tielfing party! Antics ensue. // Part 1 // Part 2 // AO3

You looked at him thoughtfully. “Hang on, weren’t you and Karlach trying to get drunk?” Astarion giggled stupidly. “Yes.” You snorted. “How’d that go?” “Fine,” he sighed. “Takes me a lot longer to get drunk. What with the dead liver and all.” You furrowed your brow. “Wouldn’t lacking a working liver make you drunk immediately?” Astarion whined, “I don’t know, but Karlach is completely inebriated and I only have a buzz I can already feel fading.”

Perfect Every Time (18+): Before your party travels into the Underdark, you and Astarion catch one last sunrise together. // AO3

You got up and joined him in the ankle deep water. “Do you want to try right now?” Astarion thought for a moment and clicked his tongue. “I have a better idea, actually.” He gave you a sideways look, his lips quirking up slightly.  “What?” you matched his smile. Rather than answering, Astarion reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head.  You furrowed your brow. “Looks an awful lot like you’re preparing to swim.” He started fiddling with the clasps on his pants and groaned in your direction. “Swimming is not the only thing one can do while submerged in water, dearest.” He gave you a sensual smile that sent heat to your cheeks. 

ℜ𝔢𝔮𝔲𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔰 - (ask box is open!)

Awfully Fond of You 🪴 (18+): Instead of sleeping with Astarion on the night of the tiefling party, you ask to bathe him instead. // AO3

You gathered the bucket that was still floating nearby and submerged it until it was filled about halfway with water. “You can either dunk yourself, or I can pour this over your head,” you held the bucket out for Astarion to see. “I’m actually quite enjoying you taking care of me, darling. I trust you won’t drown me.” “A mistake,” you said, pretending to dump the bucket over his head all at once. “Can vampires even drown? It’s not like you need to breathe.” “I’d rather not find out, if it’s all the same to you,” he smirked. 

More to come!

[mimsynims]

Fool For Love

part 9

~~~

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8

~~~

Author’s Note: Aaand it’s finally done! I always have trouble wrapping up a story, and this one was no exception… but I hope you’ll enjoy it!

This will be posted at AO3 at some point. (In fact, if I write more BG3 fics I’ll probably post it on AO3 instead of Tumblr, as usual. And I do have a few ideas actually…👀)

Thank you all for the likes, reblogs, and comments <3 it has definitely helped me keep going!

~~~

Astarion x reader/Tav

Tags: (mildish?) angst, pining, pining while fucking, jealousy, minor Karlach/Dammon, finally a happy ending for these two knuckleheads

Summary: You thought you knew what you were doing when you let Astarion into your bed. He doesn’t have feelings for you, and vice versa. Only…now you do.

To begin with, you didn’t handle it well. You tried moving on, and that seemed to work. At least you told yourself that it did.

Then something happened that gave you hope. Perhaps he feels something for you too, after all?

~~~

You find him on the path close to the archway, in almost the same spot where you talked to Bex mere days ago. You take a moment to study him from afar. It’s hard to be sure when there’s nothing but the light from the moon illuminating him, but you think his shoulders look tense. Is this your doing?

You wish you could hug him, offer to him relax in your arms.

“I’m afraid your personal blood bank will be closed for a while,” you joke as you walk closer, hoping it will lighten his mood. “For restocking purposes.”

Astarion doesn’t turn around, and when he remains silent for several tension-filled seconds, you wonder if your quip was a mistake.

“Did you mean it?” he finally asks.

The question takes you by surprise and try as you might, you can’t figure out what he’s talking about. “I’m sorry?”

“You said that you’d do anything for me. Did you mean it?”

Oh. That. “Yes.”

Your heart starts pounding as he shifts to look at you. Silvery beams of moonlight caress his beautiful face, a face painted with apprehension — and possibly hope.

“And what does that mean?”

“What do you want it to mean?” you ask in return, because you’re not ready to say those three little words. Not yet.

“Nice try, Tav.” His jaw tightening, Astarion suddenly looks closed off. “If you’re going to play coy with me you might as well leave.”

With that, he turns away from you again — and it feels like a stab to the heart. “It means,” you amend quickly, “that I care for you.” You’ve never been good at expressing your emotions. Never been good at opening yourself up to other people. And it’s scary to do so now. “Deeply.”

Astarion scoffs. “I bet you said that to Gale too,” he says, and the bitterness in his voice stings.

“I– what are you talking about?”

“I saw you. You went to him.”

Acting without thought, you rush forward to place yourself in front of him to make sure that he looks at you; he needs to fully understand what you say next. “It wasn't like that, we only talked. Astarion, you’re special to me.”

You steel yourself for another cutting remark, but you’re helpless against the sad expression that replaces the anger. “So special that you decided to end things between us?”

Fool. You’ve been a fool. “I ended things because I didn’t think…” Taking a deep breath, you tell yourself to be honest. “I did it because I was jealous and I couldn’t handle the possibility of you breaking my heart.”

His brow twitches in confusion. “You were jealous? Of who?”

You desperately ache to touch him, but you hold yourself back. “Shadowheart. Halsin. Anyone that I thought was sharing your bed besides me.”

“Tav. Darling.” He sounds exasperated but hearing the endearment again sparks tingles of joy and hope inside your chest. “I haven't invited anyone to my bed since we started sleeping together.”

Oh. Oh. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” For the first time since you found him, a small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “I thought you knew that.”

“No. No, I didn’t.” To say that you’ve been an idiot is an understatement. You’ve let yourself see things that aren’t there because you are insecure. “I haven’t either, you know. Been with anyone else since you.”

The smile twists into something teasing and sultry that feels more like Astarion. “Is that so?”

“It is, and I honestly can’t believe you’d think anything different.” It’s true. While you wouldn’t call yourself unattractive, you’ve never really been one to draw the attention of potential lovers. You’ve had a few before Astarion of course, but in general, people have been more inclined to remain your friend rather than try to pursue something more. “You wouldn’t have looked twice at me if you had seen me on the streets of Baldur’s Gate.”

“Now that is just untrue, my dear Tav.” He reaches for your hand, taking it in his. “As you so bluntly pointed out that night, my motives for seducing you may partly have been driven by self-preservation, but I chose you for a reason — and not because you're our reluctant leader.”

His slender fingers grip you tighter and the touch is exactly what you need just then. “Is that so?” you echo, attempting to sound teasing. You fail spectacularly.

“I was drawn to you even before I started to develop feelings for you.” Lifting your hand, he presses a lingering kiss on the sensitive skin of your palm before resting it against his cheek. “At first, I thought it was the need for your body that kept you in my thoughts night and day. But as I got to know you better, I realised it was your mind — you — that held my attention.” Closing his eyes, he leans into the touch with a sigh. “What Cazador had me do… It taught me how to read people. But you…?” He opens his eyes again to look at you, and what you see makes your heart skip a beat. “I thought I had you figured out, but you continuously prove me wrong. And I appreciate that more than I can express.”

“Astarion.” There’s so much you want to say. So much you need to say. But in that moment, you finally find the courage to tell him what you should’ve told him weeks ago, so the rest will just have to wait. “Astarion, I love you.”

His eyes widen in surprise as something vulnerable flashes across his face. After five heartbeats — you know, because you counted — he lets go of your hand to gently cup your neck.

The kiss is soft and gentle. Careful. In a way, it feels like a first kiss.

“Why didn’t you tell me that instead of breaking up with me?” He kisses you again before you can reply. “There you go again, doing the unexpected.”

You don’t even try to hold back a smile. “Have to keep you on your toes, you know. And I didn’t tell you because I wasn’t sure it would be welcomed, you silly goose.” To your surprise, it no longer hurts as much thinking back to that night. “First you disappeared and then when I found you, you were sitting between Halsin and Shadowheart.”

“My my, were you jealous, darling?” he drawls in mock surprise. The bastard.

“Of course I was!” You very carefully wrap your arms around his waist, ignoring the ache from your injury. Because you need to feel him against you, pain be damned. “Why do you think I gave Gale so much attention?”

“And got yourself decadently drunk, too. It was a glorious sight.”

“Oh shush, you.” Despite yourself, you laugh.

“I have to apologise, though, my darling. I, too, was jealous.” His breath is warm against your cheek as he leans forward to rest his forehead against yours. “I could tell something was troubling you, but you kept being so elusive. I assumed… I thought that meant you only deemed me worthy of getting access to your body, and nothing more.”

“Astarion.” The sincerity and sorrow permeating his words make you feel like a villain. “Gods, I’m so sorry, too. At the time, I didn’t think you’d be interested in anything else.”

“I want anything and everything you give me, Tav.” You feel his fingers slide down your uninjured side, gripping you as firmly as he dares to. Lifting his head to get a better look at you, his eyes lock with yours. “I love you, with everything that I am.”

You can see the truth of it in his gaze, can feel it in his touch. He loves you. Was it always there and you were just blind to it? Or did he hide his feelings, just like you did?

It doesn’t matter, you decide, because all you need to know is that he’s in your arms.

“You have all of me, Astarion.”

“My beautiful Tav.”

You share another kiss, and then Astarion insists you both go back to camp to let you rest. The thrumming pain of the wound is there, but it’s easily overshadowed by the warmth blooming in your chest every time Astarion throws a smile your way on your way back. His hand is still linked with yours — it’s such a small detail but it feels infinitely more intimate than anything else you’ve shared with him so far. It’s impossible to stop smiling — not that you’re trying.

He follows you to your tent but to your dismay, he tries to leave after he has made sure that you have everything you need.

“Please don’t leave,” you say, refusing to let go of him. “I want you to stay. Stay the night.”

“Tav, my love, you’re in no condition to have sex.”

My love. It almost throws you off course to hear the new endearment. “Astarion, my love,” you counter, and oh, it’s worth it to see his reaction, “I wasn’t suggesting we’d have sex. I just want you close. Assuming that’s alright, of course.”

“Really?” He sounds just a tad surprised; that’s something you and he will need to unpack before going any further. But not tonight. “Well, that I can do.”

It takes a bit of careful shuffling around, but you manage to find a position that’s comfortable for you both without putting pressure on your injury.

He’s here. In your arms. You didn’t think you’d get to have this, but he truly is here. Your contented sigh is nothing but a muffled exhale into his curls but he doesn’t seem to mind, giving you a fond chuckle in response.

“Are you sniffing my hair, darling?”

“No.” It doesn’t sound convincing even to your own ears. “Well. Maybe a little,” you confess. “I can’t help that you smell nice.”

“Oh, I don’t mind, pet. Your scent is quite enticing too, you know.” You feel his chest expanding as he takes a deep inhale. “Drives me crazy sometimes.”

“Since you drive me crazy on a regular basis, I’d say that’s only fair.”

“Why, you little cheek..! Just watch me be even more annoying from now on.”

“You’re not annoying,” you say, trying to hold back a yawn. “You’re just a handful.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Of course–“ you lose the battle against another yawn. “…you will.”

You feel the press of his lips against your skin. “Quite right.”

“Astarion?” Your eyelids start to get heavy, and for the first in what seems like ages, you feel completely safe and relaxed. “I’m so happy I have you in my life.”

“Me too, darling. Me too.” His hand slides down to find yours, lacing your fingers. “Now go to sleep, my love. I’ll watch over us. And tomorrow we will face whatever comes next. Together.”

~~~

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

How would the male companions go about helping/comforting a tav who’s “monthly visitor” came to town during their journey??

A/N: The timing of this ask is impeccable because guess what I just got? Lol. But seriously I would be mad as hell in the 5 or 6 days I’m supposed to stop my mind flayer parasite AND save the universe I ALSO had to deal with cramping and bleeding. Nu-uh. Nope. Sign me the fuck out. Goodbye cruel world, I would be DONE. 

TW: Mentions of Menstruation; Blood 

Tried to keep this Tav as Gender Neutral as possible so that it could apply to anyone who menstruates.  <3 

Please Like & Reblog! 

Male BG3 Companions Helping Tav w/ Their Period

⭐ Astarion: 

He probably notices it before Tav does

Of course, he offers to help “clean up” ;) (this may or may not get him a kick in the balls)

No, but seriously, if he and Tav are in a relationship, he’d have no qualms going down there himself every so often to “alleviate” some symptoms. That is, of course, if Tav would go for that kind of thing. Astarion won’t keep pushing it if Tav says “no”. He respects the hard boundaries Tav gives him. 

Of course, he teases Tav a bit. Not horribly, and it’s all in good fun. But enough to let Tav know that this matter doesn’t disgust or upset him in the slightest. It’s blood for devil's sake! What creature would be better prepared to handle it than him?

If any of Tav’s clothes end up stained or they end up bleeding through them, Astarion has just the thing to take the stains out. Turns out, knowing how to get blood out of most fabrics is quite beneficial knowledge in the vampire community. Plus he has an instinct for knowing where the best tailors and seamstresses in Baldur’s Gate are. Should Tav need an emergency change of clothes, he knows just the place! 

Then again, Astarion himself has no problem with the blood stains. After all, they’re traveling around killing monsters for gods sake! If anyone has a nasty comment about how much blood either he or Tav is drenched in, they better be damn quick on their feet. His arrows can shoot pretty far. ;P

As far as cramps or pain goes, if his previous, ahem, suggestion was shot down, he’ll make sure Tav takes a moment here and there to rest. He might even bother Gale, demanding some sort of heat pack. Scratch that. He’s most definitely harassing Gale for some sort of heating pack spell. 

If Gale refuses, he might even try and figure out how to fix one himself. Granted fire and vampires aren't the best of friends, but Tav is the only one in the last two-hundred-plus years to see him as a person. A little scorching here and there means nothing if Astarion can let Tav know how much he values them. 

🔮 Gale: 

He’s clueless, okay? Tav would have to outright tell him. I mean yes, he was raised by a single mom, but she didn’t exactly share the details of this stuff with him. And it never came up all the years he was with Mystra because goddesses don’t exactly reproduce the way other Faerun humanoids do! Please forgive him, he really does want to learn.

He immediately offers to find a spell or potion to either pause or skip this one altogether. He gets that Tav may want to opt out of dealing with it for the time being, seeing as the two of them have much more pressing matters to attend to. 

He’ll cast it himself if Tav wishes. Or he’ll find another trustworthy wizard to recommend. Although he does prefer to do it himself, he understands Tav might be uncomfortable with the thought of their new partner doing such a thing for them. His entire life has been spent studying magic, so of course he immediately thinks to use that to remedy any problem Tav has. 

Nevertheless, should Tav choose to deal with it in the old-fashioned non-magical way, he’s perfectly accepting of that as well. He’ll enquire about which local herbs are suitable for such applications, possibly even soliciting the help of an herbalist or surgeon. 

Gale wants to give Tav as many options for comfort as possible. If Tav’s concern is about heavy bleeding, he looks for answers on natural remedies to lighten the flow. Or he may even speak with a midwife about the best clothes and absorbent materials to use in the coming days.  

As awkward as he can be in social situations, he’s oddly great in this endeavor. He treats it the way he would a Weave experiment- with an open mind and curiosity. At the end of the day what matters is Tav knows how much Gale admires and respects them. And that he doesn’t think of them any less for having this bodily function. If anything, he admires Tav more for being so forthcoming. It’s an ask that actually strengthens his and Tav’s relationship. 

🗡 Wyll: 

Wyll probably shies away from it the most. It’s not that he doesn’t want to help Tav in any way he can, it’s just that he’s a gentleman, and to his knowledge, speaking of certain subjects with the one you like, isn’t something a well-behaved gentleman would do. That being said, a true gentleman is always prepared to put away their discomfort in order to aid their friends, so that’s exactly what he does. 

He enlists the help of Shadowheart almost immediately. He knows realistically, there are others he could ask (midwives, doctors, healers), but Shadowheart is an ally and a Cleric to boot. So her skills as well as her knowledge may very well come in handy. 

He’ll go along with whatever Tav decides, but he, like Gale, recommends Tav either suspend or skip this round. He thinks it wise to have all their wits about them for the battles ahead. With demons like Mizora and Raphael running about, none of them can afford to get distracted. Again, if Tav chooses to push through it, he’ll be kind and supportive, and request Shadowheart’s healing in subduing some of the more troublesome symptoms. But deep down, he’s happier should Tav decide to use magic or spells to resolve the issue for the time being. 

And then, Wyll goes all out in preparation for the next one. Once their fight is won, he can turn his attention back to his family- his Father, and of course, Tav. He makes sure his family home has a room for them, customized in many ways to Tav’s liking. Wyll has their favorite color blanket, a soft pillow, their favorite flavor tea in an enchanted flask to keep it just the perfect temperature… the list goes on and on. 

He loves Tav so much. He just wants them to be comfortable, and to feel safe to express whatever feelings they have. After all, Tav is the best thing to ever happen to him. 

🌱 Halsin: 

The nice thing about him being ‘one with nature’ is that he has no unease regarding the subject. He is an archdruid, and some three-hundred years old at that- believe me, there’s very little Tav’s body could throw at him that he’s not ready to receive. 

Out of all the companions, Halsin is the one most likely to not immediately suggest using magical means to pause or skip it. Instead, he has more natural aids at the ready- herbs, teas, heat packs, massages, and well, yes, even that. ;)

The difference between Halsin suggesting it and Astarion suggesting it, however, is that Halsin’s motivations are more focused on what he can do for Tav and their body; they’re not based on the idea of mutual satisfaction. Halsin has had countless lovers and years to understand pleasure. He knows you take turns giving, and he’s well very versed in that. 

Or if Tav isn't up for that, he'll offer to shift into a cat and rest on their abdomen, using his body heat to lessen Tav’s cramps. 

He’s also the most ‘normal’ when it comes to continuing their journey. He won’t make a habit of fussing over Tav unless they specifically request him to do so. Periods, however annoying and painful, are a part of life, of nature. Halsin believes it best to learn how to accept nature, and live in harmony with it, rather than try and prevent it. 

If Tav does want to explore other means of stopping this particular cycle, however, Halsin will help them any way he can, even if he doesn’t think it very wise to mess with the flow of nature like that. As a druid healer himself, he knows a few things or too about reproductive spells. He can make it so the symptoms lessen, or temporarily subside until their perilous journey has come to a close. 

Halsin may not want to settle for a single lover, but out of all of them, Tav seems to shine the brightest. He would do anything within his power to aid them. 

Bonus! 💪 Minsc (and 🐹 Boo!): 

He offers to fight it lol. Just straight up. 

“What is this thing causing you stress? Tell Minsc where it is so he can destroy it for you!” 

Boo basically has to be the one in charge of the situation, but then again, what’s new? 

Boo finds the supplies Tav might need, and directs Minsc to them. Boo also directs Minsc towards either Shadowheart or Halsin, because they’re better suited for dealing with these sorts of things. 

Once Minsc understands what Tav meant, he apologizes with a bouquet of wildflowers he picked. 

And by ‘picked’ I mean mostly smooshed before ripping their roots out of the ground.  

He's really trying okay, give the man some credit.

And give Boo treats to thank him for his service.

[hippotooth]

💙 Hello talented people who create fan art and fan fiction! 💙

It’s probably just some random fluke of my dash tonight but I’ve been seeing a lot of discouraged people wondering why they aren’t getting more interaction, or followers, comparing themselves to other artists etc- so I wanted to share my perspective, for what it’s worth.

I’ve been doing this thing for a while where I seek out, and reblog, BG3 fan art that is under appreciated - doesn’t have a ton of notes, etc - so visual artists are more my niche than fan fic but this applies to you writers out there too I think.

I’ve noticed:

Interaction does not always correlate with quality ✨

I see a ton of art each day of all skill levels, mediums, and subject matters. There is a ton of amazing stuff out there that simply does not get notes.

More importantly:

Every post is someone’s favorite 💕

Your post may not make you tumblr famous but I guarantee you someone loves what you make. I can reblog something, see most of my followers not interact with it, then see one follower reblog it absolutely losing their mind in the tags because it’s the perfect piece for them. If you’re not finding that person, the problem is most likely circumstance and not you. Maybe they’re in a different time zone than when you post, blame tumblr’s messy tagging and impossible search function- not yourself!

Sappy as it sounds, consider me your biggest fan if you want! I’m grateful for how active the BG3 community is and love seeing your talent and growth as artists. I genuinely enjoy every post I like and reblog. Need a pick me up? Message me and I will shamelessly gush about how much I love your work and mean every word of it. 😊

Your art and writing are appreciated. Sometimes that appreciation isn’t as loud or as visible as it should be, but that is not a fault of you, devoted and talented people. 👏

Thank you for sharing your creativity with us all!

[vole-mon-amour]

Not Such a Quick PSA: Do you know that, if you make a modern BG3/Halstarion AU, you don't have to erase their past and make them into something else? Do you know that they can still be elves with a traumatic past and scars in the modern setting? Do you know that modern fantasy/urban fantasy exists? Now you do.

I'll always love a world where dragons, elves, and magic (and everything that comes with it) gets combined with smartphones and maybe even cyberpunk. I think it's way more fun than erasing such a huge part of what those characters are and why and making them into a similar, but a very "mortal", "human" thing.

Cazador enslaved Astarion and made him lure victims for him? That happens in the real life. Cazador left horrible scars on Astarion for a ritual he wanted to use him in? That happens in real life.

Some twins enslaved Halsin and made him their sex toy for 3 years? People in the real life were kidnapped and raped over centuries for way longer time.

Modern technologies do not mean a person is safe from all those things, so you can take the game's canon and switch it to modern setting without changing anything else. Let them be them (and that applies to other characters).

And, most importantly, have fun with both worlds. Elves and dragons and faeries and gaming pcs and consoles and smartphones and cars existing at the same time in the same world. At the very least, I am begging you, let them be elves without turning them into humans.

UPD: Looking at reblogs and: obviously you can and should write what you want.

I just find that often than not, when people talk about modern au, they automatically think about the NEED to drop canon (usually them being elves and sometimes them having trauma from enslavement).

I'm saying that you don't HAVE to drop that if you still want them to be elves, have scars, etc in the modern world. All those things can exist simultaneously.

Personally, I find it way more entertaining than making them humans with human jobs, but that's a personal preference. (You can still give them human jobs, but keep them elves. By all means, experiment and find what you like.)

[mumms-the-word]

When was Gale Chosen by Mystra?

I’m going to get so much hate for this but here we go

I’m looking at lore timelines for Faerûn (for fic purposes but also because it’s interesting) and I’m curious when people think Gale was named as one of Mystra’s Chosen. There's a poll at the bottom of this post for you to vote your answer!

Assuming, of course, that things like the Spellplague, Mystra’s death/disappearance, and the Second Sundering/return of Mystra happened, finding the exact year that Mystra chose Gale is tricky.

For context, here is a timeline of relevant things that happened according to Faerûn lore (I explain this more in this old post about Mystra’s timeline if you’re curious but that post doesn’t matter for this poll specifically)

1385 - Mystra dies(?) and anything resembling a goddess of magic goes silent for nearly 100 years; The Spellplague begins and the 4e rules for D&D kick in, so magic is different than normal; SUPPOSEDLY no gods name any (new) Chosens during the Spellplague era, but no one seems to agree on how long that rule lasted Early 1400s? - Elminster hears Mystra's voice but she seems otherwise silent for everyone else (her silence is explained mostly in Ed Greenwood's Elminster novels, in case you were wondering where I pulled that factoid from) 1457 - Gale is born (assuming he's 35 in the game) 1465 - Gale (age 8) accidentally sets fire to his neighbor's rose bush and meets Elminster for the first time 1479 - According to Bury Elminster Deep, Elminster meets Mystra's spirit trapped in a bear and begins finding/possibly naming(?) other Chosen of Mystra and gathering power for Mystra so she can survive the upcoming Second Sundering (Gale is 22) 1480ish - According to Elminster Enraged, Elminster restores power to Bear!Mystra and she Quietly Returns; we still haven't seen her with a physical body, she seems to be just spirit and stardust (Gale is 22-23) 1484 - The Second Sundering begins; various gods are returning and the magic rules of the Weave are changing back to pre-Spellplague normalcy (Gale is 27) 1487 - Mystra now has a physical body because she does this Big Reveal at the end of The Herald (another Elminster book) by physically entering a room where five of her Chosen are; this is known officially as Mystra's Return; additionally the Second Sundering wraps up, so all the gods are locked into their domains and the Weave is officially back to pre-Spellplague normalcy (Gale is 30) 1491ish - Gale (age 33-34) loses his Chosen status after searching for the Karsite Weave and getting plagued with the Netherese orb 1492 - BG3 begins (Gale is 35)

So if that's the timeline we're working with, when do YOU think Gale was selected as one of Mystra's official Chosen? Keep in mind that Chosens, according to Faerûn/D&D lore, are extremely rare and carefully selected, though Mystra does tend to collect and name more Chosens than the average Faerûnian deity.

You can base your answer off anything. Vibes, original lore, game content, Gale's dialogues, your gut feeling, idc. Just curious to see when people think Mystra made his Chosen status official.

I'm also curious whether you think Gale becoming Chosen happened before or after he started a sexual relationship with Mystra, but that's a separate question you can answer if you feel like it.

Curious to see the results!

[alicelufenia]

Thinking about my last reblog and how Baldur's Gate 3 character creation kinda fucked with my perception of paladins in the bg3 setting (it's specific version of the Forgotten Realms at least)

Since paladins don't get to select a deity at CC, I got the impression that paladins who's oath was not sworn before any particular god were more common than they really are.

There's technically a "Paladin of X" tag in game for dialogue, but the ONLY way to get it without mods is to also take a level of cleric and select a deity that way.

So when I made Alice as essentially a renegade paladin whose oath was sworn before no one except through her own conviction and fervor to self-actualize (she's Oath of Glory in canon) and that manifested divine power anyway, turns out that's really weird and uncommon in setting where most paladins swear an oath before a deity, and thus presumably are bound to tenets dictated by said deity (or the order of paladins they belong to, whether that reflects the true will of the god or not)

This is, in my defense, NOT how it works in tabletop 5e, where paladins select an oath but are not required to pick a deity (they still can pick one like many characters do, even those with no levels in divine casters). Giving a paladin a deity is more a nod to tradition, but RAW you're free to hold an oath without following a faith, just like you can be any alignment regardless of your oath (except maybe oathbreaker. BG3 even turns that on it's head by making it possible to be 'Good' as an oathbreaker, even restoring your oath, which isn't a thing in tabletop unless it's to repent for breaking it but without going full oathbreaker subclass)

Enter the most prominent paladin in Baldur's Gate 3, Minthara

Don't have any art saved to my phone so enjoy plushthara instead

She originally swore her oath of vengeance while in service to Lolth, to seek out and eliminate the enemies of the faith in Menzoberranzan (essentially part of the Lolthite Inquisition). This, by the way, is why she's so insightful when it comes to the other companions; it was literally her job to get good at reading people to find out what their deal was.

Her crusade against the enemies of Lolth led her and an army of House Baenre soldiers to Moonrise Towers, but instead of putting an end to the Absolute cult, she was captured, tortured for days, her soldiers killed or enthralled, and finally tadpoled and made to turn all that religious ferver and devotion towards serving the Absolute.

For this failure, Lolth abandoned her. As a Lolth-sworn drow (a problematic term basically made up for bg3 but works here) losing Lolth's favor is the most devastating thing possible, and there's almost no chance of going back. After being released from command of the Absolute by the Prism, she was, spiritually, alone for probably the first time in 250+ years of memory. Unless you come from a religious background only to lose faith later in life, you can't imagine what that's like (I don't ftr, but this is how I have come to understand it based on @spiderwarden's analysis)

And yet, despite this severing from a god that works Her way into every facet of Udadrow life, her oath endures. She remains a faithless (really faith-orphaned), but still undeniably spiritual paladin, bound to an oath that, for now, has her carrying out the same objective that sent her out of the Underdark before—destroy the cult of the Absolute, and seize that godlike power from those who control it.

When you rescue Minthara after romancing her in act 1, she says "You came. I prayed that you would, but there are no gods left for me." That raw-as-fuck line also spells out her current relationship to religion; IF a god would have her, she would be devoted. She even calls out to Lolth who, if the Spider Queen were to somehow take her back, she would in a heartbeat. With none answering her, she has no one but her savior, Tav/Durge, and their companions (whom she is now oath-bound to help whether she likes them or not)

And her natural inclination is to channel all that hurt, all that resentment and humiliation at being left with no divinity to know and to be known, into abject RAGE. Though she doesn't show it, I believe she is angrier and meaner NOW than she's ever been in life. That's why she talks about spitting on a shrine to Lolth, why she disapproves of offering tithe to any god at the Stormshore Tabernacle. Why she wants to BECOME a god, to become Absolute.

Hate is love betrayed. And I believe she had a LOT of love for Lolth.

Anyway this started as me musing on the spiritual nature of 5e paladin oaths in bg3, and kinda turned into character analysis for Minthara. Still, as the game's biggest example of a paladin who no longer serves any god but still commands divine powers to ⚔️SMITE Evil⚔️ by her oath, I think it came around in the end.

[tragedybunny]

Just a Reminder for the BG3 fandom

Well any fandom really. 1. I've seen people say the faults in the game are wearing on them now that they see them. No piece of media is inherently perfect. And expecting perfection out of something is going to lead you to losing your joy in things. This isn't to say we shouldn't give our feedback to Larian where the game lacks. But at the same time, you don't have to stop enjoying the game, especially as there are many things it does very well.

2. I've also seen people talking about the discourse getting to them. Please remember - you're under no obligation to engage in discourse. I do my best to keep my blog free of this. If I see a blog engaging in discourse often, I won't follow them. If I have opinions, they are my own, and no one needs to share them. This isn't to say we can't have thoughtful discussion.

Example: Discussing Wyll's lack of content in game compared to other companions Vs. Claiming that anyone that doesn't make Wyll fanart is racist.

Discourse takes a hateful tone. It isn't there to add to the community. It's there to be negative. 3. Take a break! Sometimes you need to get off social media, play a different game etc. You can love something without drowning yourself in it 24/7.

4.Engage with the creators / blogs that you love. Leave comments, reach out through DM's, reblog with your thoughts.

Curate your experience sounds like a cliché at times, I know. But it's the same for fandom space and real world space, what you surround yourself with will have a huge influence on your mood and perception.

[amandacanwrite]

The Violet Thread of Fate Part Three:

The Scribe's Guild and the Acolyte Errant

Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four || Part Five || Part Six || Part Seven || Part Eight || Join Taglist

Pairing || Elinna Inklynn (Half-drow tav) and Gale Dekarios

Length || 5,400 Words

Scenario || In an alternative timeline for the events of BG3 Elinna Inklynn, an orphan from the Moonshae Islands seeks out the tutelage of accomplished wizard Gale Dekarios of Waterdeep. She has a knack with the Weave, but no money or connections to actually learn how to harness it. She has heard the wizard is a gentleman and a schollar, and hopes she can appeal to him to take her on as his apprentice in exchange for her help around his tower, with his research, and in running errands in Waterdeep. Unfortunately for her, Gale Dekarios does not take on apprentices.

Warnings || Age gap (Perhaps about 10ish years), depiction of depression and heart ache, description of very, very mild body horror. Description of scarring from corporal punishment. Slightly mature themes.

A/n || In the interest of full disclosure: I didn't edit this one. I was too eager to get it out, so please forgive any strange pacing or verbiage. I may edit it tomorrow or sometime soon, but I also primarily write this for fun so I may also not. I actually really enjoyed writing Gale softening up to Elinna a bit, and Elinna sort of losing some of her rose tinted vision for Gale. Perhaps soon they will meet somewhere in the middle. :))

If you like this, you may also like my original works! I have a writing taglist that you can sign up for simply by commenting or reblogging and letting me know you'd like to be added. OR you can fill out this form if you'd like to be specific about which works you'd like to be tagged in.

Tag list || @softvampirewhump @horizonstride @thoughts-of-bear @mymybirdie @tiedyedghoulette @drabblesandimagines @madwomansapologist @hijirikaww @tryingtowritestuff24 @laserlope @auroraesmeraldarose @puckprimrose @dont-try-pesticide @cherifrog @circusofthelastdays  @nourangul

The Scribe’s Guild

Elinna cupped her hands above her eyes, trying to reduce the urge to squint as she looked out over the edge of one of the craggy cliffside peaks. 

“Are you certain you’re alright up there?” Gale asked from the ground. “Not to be a pain, but you haven’t had the greatest track record with heights as of late.”

“I climbed up here–as long as I don’t try to magic my way down, I should be fine,” she called back. “I’m trying to figure out where we are.”

“Any luck?” he called back. 

“You’re distracting me!” she said. 

“Are you one of those people who can only do one mental process at a time?” he asked. “Do you go blind when your ears are in use?”

“I’m one of those people who needs to think to recall the details of all the maps I’ve cataloged at the Nest,” she griped looking down at him. “Now be quiet so I can think.”

She saw him lift a hand and rub the back of his neck before he turned around and sat down to have a pout. She rolled her eyes looking out over the coastline again, trying to cross reference what she could see from her view with the overhead details of maps she’d looked at before.

Gale Dekarios was certainly a…strange archmage. 

Reading transcripts of conversations, reading his treatises–she’d always pictured this stately, almost dry sort of fellow. Someone who would sniff before correcting her about something–or stand perpetually with his nose pointed at the ceiling so you always knew he was looking down at you past it. 

But he was just…well–a sort of awkward, somewhat humorous man. 

They’d been wandering for some time–Gale had a good sense for what was north, south, east and west, but there was only so much that one could do when unaware of where the starting point was.

The shame of things was that they were in some random locale with very few cities about. She’d learned much about Baldur’s Gate, Amn, Waterdeep–places she wished to visit. If there was Gale’s tower nearby–or perhaps Sorcerous Sundries–she could have been able to pluck it out of the landscape with ease. 

Instead, as she looked out off the cliff, she only saw shoreline give way to worn out cobbled roads. Some sort of village obscured the haze of distance and…well nothing familiar. She pursed her lips before chewing slightly on the bottom one; a nervous habit that often left her with metallic-tasting patches on the inside of her lip. 

“Well?” Gale said a bit impatiently. 

She was just about to give him the bad news–that she found nothing of note and had no idea which way to go–when a shadow darkened the ground from somewhere overhead. She looked up to find a black blot against the light blue of the sky–a dire raven with a wingspan of about 10 feet, armored in the colors of a the Scribe’s Guild; pale tan leathers, brass metal and mist green canvas. 

She found herself smiling despite the fact that she’d told herself she’d never look at a Scribe’s Guild after leaving The Nest. She watched for a while longer as the large avian swooped through the sky and then landed on the parapet of a distant stone structure.��

“We’re in luck!” she called down to Gale.

“Are we?” he asked. “You didn’t happen to have found a cleric of legendary skill up there did you?”

“Not that much luck,” she said as she started to climb down the rocky face of the cliff.

“Are you sure you ought to be doing that?” he asked. “It seems awfully dangerous.”

“As we just covered, I’ll be fine so long as I don’t use magic,” she responded. “I’m used to climbs.”

Looking down to find her perch, she carefully lighted her foot on the boulder where she started her climb, and turned to find Gale waiting for her, a single hand offered up to her to assist her down from the small height. 

“You don’t have to do that,” she said. “It’s not that high up.”

“Best not to risk it,” he said. “The twist of an ankle could mean the difference between humanity and ceremorphosis, considering our plight.”

Elinna nibbled on her lower lip and nodded, placing her hand in his. His calloused fingers closed around her hand and he lifted his other hand to grasp her waist. She stepped off the stone and he supported her weight easily, lowering her to the ground smoothly. 

“So,” he said, not taking his hands away yet. “You’ve kept me in suspense, Elinna. Why are we in luck?”

“I just saw a Dire Raven,” she said. “One of the ones we use to transport records between different chapters of the Scribe’s Guild.”

“The what?” he asked. 

“The Scribe’s guild,” she said. “I told you, I was their ward in the Moonshae Islands.”

“Did you?” he asked. 

She sighed and gave him a disappointed look. “You really didn’t listen to me at all back in Waterdeep.”

His hand twitched on her waist as his brow furrowed. “Well that’s hardly fair,” he said. “You were a stranger standing right outside of my home. Why should I have?”

“Courtesy,” she said sourly as she turned away from him and started to walk down the pathway in the direction she watched the dire raven fly. 

She tried to ignore the tingling feeling in the tips of her fingers as her hand left his; the feeling of absence at her waist as she lost the weight of his hand. 

“Oh, come now–” he said, his face screwing with offense and hurrying after her. “Don’t imply that I was being discourteous when you were the one showing up at a strange man’s home unannounced!”

“It’s not as if I let myself in!” she said back. 

“Wait, you still haven’t told me what the Scribe’s Guild is,” he said, finally catching up to her.

“I assumed you would know what it is,” she said looking sidelong and up at him.

“I confess I’ve not heard of it,” he said. 

She sighed and looked ahead. Maybe she didn’t want to tell him if he didn’t already know, she thought. She wasn’t sure she was ready to reveal just how sheltered her life was before heading to Waterdeep. 

But they were now headed for the local archive and he was going to find out either way so…

“The scribe’s guild is a redundancy,” she said. “It’s one of the realm’s most extensive collections of information. If you’re looking for a book, a scroll, a record of some obscure property dispute… you can find it there. I was raised in one.”

“So, you’re a scribe?” he asked her. “You write books–collect this information and dole it out to those who need it?”

She pursed her lips. “I wasn’t a scribe myself,” she said. “I was a clerk.”

“So you were in training,” he said. “Assisting the scribes so that you could take on the task.”

She felt her skin pinken with warmth, afraid to disclose the truth–afraid of what it would look like. “Not quite,” she said. “The ArchLibrarian thought I wasn’t suited to the work.”

“Why not?” he asked. 

“Because I was too fun,” she said, her walls going up a little higher. “If you must know.”

“My,” he said. “Did I hit a nerve?”

“It seems like you’re looking for reasons to think poorly of me,” she said. 

“It seems like you’re hiding reasons to think poorly of you,” he said. “So, what was it? Sleeping on the job? Theft? Did you try to cast a cantrip and  Did you come looking for me because they turned you out and cut you off?”

“Gods,” she said looking up at him, a little line forming between her brows and her face getting even warmer with embarrassment. “You really do think I’m a wastrel, don’t you?”

“No I don’t!” he said. 

“What happened to you being worried about seeming an ill-mannered man?” she asked.

“Elinna–you’re young–youth is made for mistakes. You think I was always an upstanding young man while in attendance at Blackstaff?” he said. “I slept through most of my Calashite lessons.”

“Don’t lie to me to try and get dirt on me,” Elinna said as she walked faster.. “Don’t mock me like that.”

“Elinna–Elinna, would you slow down?” he said. 

“No. I want to get to the Scribe’s Guild.”

“We will get there with plenty enough time before sundown,” he said, grabbing her arm. “Elinna, stop.”

She stopped but didn’t look up at him, she couldn’t make herself do it. She didn’t know what was more embarrassing for her; the fact that she’d hardly seen any of the world, the fact that her guardians felt she was inept and flighty, or the fact that she was quite acting like a petulant child with Gale when she only wished to prove to him that she could be a good student. 

Maybe seeking him out had been a mistake from the start. She’d spent so long reading about Gale and his work–learning about his unique understanding of magic–reading his writings…in some ways she’d convinced herself that he was already a friend. 

She’d never thought about how trying to become his apprentice also meant sharing her qualifications and the more time she spent talking to him the more she realized she had none. 

She could feel him looking at her almost indulgently–like a man speaking to a child. 

She didn;t know why she hated that most of all. 

“Elinna, forgive me for prying,” he said. “I was just trying to get to know you a little better. From what I can tell there is a significant distance between here and Waterdeep and it will be a much more pleasant journey if we get to know one another a little bit as we travel, don’t you think?”

Elinna smoothed her amber hair away from her brow, cupping her hand on her forehead as if checking herself for fever. 

“I’m sorry,” she said, finally. . “I think I’m just tired.”

“I can only imagine…what with going from the islands, to Waterdeep so climbing up cliff sides and now we have to walk even further? We can swap notes later,” he said with a gentle smile. “Let’s focus on getting to this place–maybe they can put us up for an evening or at least point us in the direction of the nearest town.”

Elinna nodded before heaving a great sigh. 

“It shouldn’t be long,” she said. “Maybe just a few hours of walking from here.”

“Excellent,” he said. “Lead on.”

The Acolyte Errant

Elinna was a curious girl. 

She was somehow equal measures breezy and intense; lackadaisical and earnest. He didn’t know what to make of the dichotomy. He knew even less what to do with the strange secrecy she had about her former home. 

Perhaps it was a bit of paranoia–after all, he had his own secrets he was keeping. It was perhaps more than a little hypocritical of him to fault her for hers. 

“So, tell me more about The Scribe’s Nest,” he said, trying to change the subject to something more informative and a little less personal.

“Specifically The Nest? Or the guild in general?” she asked. 

“Mm…if it’s not too personal for you, The Nest. You said that’s where you grew up right?” he said. 

She nodded, wiping sweat off her brow. The day was beginning to get hot, so he had to think they were further down south than Waterdeep and the islands. It was much cooler this time of year–hence the layers both he and Elinna wore. 

“Uhm–The Nest in Moonshae is in an old abandoned temple to Ilmater,” she told him. “My mother left me there thinking that it was a safe place for me to grow up–thinking I’d be cared for by clerics. But The Nest was already there.”

“I see,” Gale said, feeling for the girl but trying not to let it come through in his tone. “I suppose they took you in anyway?”

She nodded again. “They did,” she said. “Still not sure why, if I’m honest–they have a few oaths they had to make in exchange for financial support. Even so, there were other temples in the area that probably could have taken me in. But uh–anyway. The way that the scribes work is they receive funds from the local government and they use those funds to pay a fleet of scouts to get word back to us about the goings on in the world. The scribes record it, make copies of each account and send them to the other branches.”

“Hells,” he said. “That sounds like quite the expensive endeavor.”

“It is–and the scribes outsource the work so that there’s no conflict of interest. No scribes out wandering the world trying to spin tales. They have a motto: ‘We Are The Accuracy In The Indulgent The Composed in the Chaotic.’” She said. “In other words, they try to record everything as plainly and as closely to the facts as possible. In addition to that, they try to have copies of every written work ever produced.”

“How can that even be quantified or verified for that matter?” Gale asked. 

“Like I said–they try,” she said. “It’s all very tedious if you ask me.”

“I’m shocked I haven’t heard of this place–it sounds like a veritable treasure trove of knowledge,” he said. 

“The scribes don’t open the vaults to many,” she said. “They consider their work one of posterity; a record of history, not a resource to be plumbed. They don’t even really indulge in reading the records themselves.”

“That sounds….extraordinarily wasteful,” He said. 

He saw Elinna finally crack a smile at that. “I couldn’t agree more,” she said. “Wasteful, boring, depressing.”

He was itching to ask her if that was why she’d left what she’d had as a home for…well however long she’d been alive. She looked remarkably young, but with half-elves that hardly meant much. For all he knew she was his age. 

“Elinna, do you mind if I ask how old you are?” he asked. 

She looked up at him, her brow quirking. “Uhm–I’ve had twenty-eight summers so far,” she said. “Why do you ask?”

Ah–around ten years younger than he was. No wonder she seemed so restless when she’d come to find him at his tower. Most Wizards were well into their studies at Blackstaff by now, or at least had some reasonable amount of aptitude with the weave. “Just curious,” he said shrugging. “You look young but you’re also not complaining, or panicking, or well–other things I would expect a young person to be doing in this situation.”

He wasn’t sure if he was reading it correctly, but he could have sworn that she pressed her lips a bit to avoid smiling. Was the poor girl such a stranger to praise that the simple pointing out of her maturity could make her have to stop a flustered smile from forming on her lips?”

“I guess I just feel like anything is preferable to being stuck in that dusty old tower,” she said. 

There was a sort of…sadness to her words. A quality he recognized first hand. 

Not sadness, he realized as he saw one of his own feelings mirrored back at him. Regret. 

But that was not a subject he wished to bring up–not when the questions could so easily be turned back onto him.

“Well, Elinna,” he said, changing the subject. “You have Gale of Waterdeep with you–I’m a captive audience as we walk to the guild hall. Anything I can impress you with?” 

It was an olive branch, of sorts. It, of course, wasn’t the first time he’d met some hopeful magician who wanted to pick his brain. Usually he politely shooed them away, but he figured that extending the offer might cheer her up.

“I’m quite well read on the subject,” she answered. 

Wait…had he missed the question while he was patting himself on the back for being open to bragging? “Sorry–which subject is that?” he asked.

Her face flushed and she gave him a furtive look with those pretty green eyes. She cleared her throat and pushed some hair behind her ear. 

“Uhm–you–” she said finally. “I’ve read everything the archive has that even has a tangential mention of your name in it.”

He blinked, feeling glad for the fact that she was looking most pointedly away from him. “Ah,” he said, trying to master his tone. “Well–should we crosscheck the scribe’s records? Tell me what you know and I can correct anything that’s wrong.”

“We’ll be here for hours if I do that…” she mumbled under her breath. 

Now it was his turn to flush–until he realized–

“Wait, I thought you said that the scribes don’t read the records–” he said. 

“I did,” she said, looking over at him with a sheepish little smile. “That’s why they said I’m not suited for the work. It’s why they keep me on shelving duty.”

Ah–that was what she meant when she said she was used to climbing.

Suddenly there was an uncomfortable pressure in his skull as he saw flashes of giant stacks of dusty tomes, heard the squeaking of a half-broken wheel on a cart, felt rawness on his fingertips from shelving books and records; the deep ache of tired muscles.

When he was able to focus again, Elinna was crouched a few feet ahead, her gloved hands pressing on the sides of her head. 

“W-was that a memory?” Gale asked. “Did you just send me a memory?”

“No,” she said weakly. “Gods…that was…I could feel you in my head–”

“I didn’t–it wasn’t something I did on purpose,” he said frantically. 

He felt as embarrassed as a young man might be during his first time with a lover. It’d been years since he’d accidentally used his magic. Not since he was an adolescent. 

“I think it’s the parasite,” she said. “Mindflayers are part of a hive mind–maybe it’s the start of that tether forming to it.”

“I’m loath to face that possibility, but you may be right,” Gale said grimly as he walked over to her and offered a hand. “You alright?”

“Just exhausted, I think,” she said as she took his hand. “It felt like the parasite was pulling at the seams of my mind, extracting those images like thread through the eye of a needle.”

“Aptly put,” he said, finally helping her up. 

“Let’s just hurry to the guild,” she said. 

It was a bit of a grueling trek after that. The pathway mostly uphill and on rocky, uneven pathways. Wherever this guild branch was, it was clear enough to him that the scribes had no interest in being bothered or visited. He wasn’t so worried about himself, though–if anything, he was worried about Elinna. 

Thinking about it–she’d originally mentioned that she was looking for a place to live when he met her and she’d asked him to take her on as a student. He wondered when the last time she’d slept was. It wasn’t uncommon for passengers unused to traveling by ship to sleep poorly on them. The voyage between the Moonshae Islands and Waterdeep was probably close to a tenday, give or take a day or two. 

He felt a little guilty, now, that he had let her climb up the cliffside to help them get their bearings; that he couldn’t be of more assistance with some kind of charm or boon. 

As predicted, it took them about another two hours to make it to the base of a decaying old castle. He didn’t recognize it, and from what he could tell there were no real markings on it to distinguish what lineage or people it could have belonged to at one point. 

He looked up as another dire raven–or perhaps the same one he hadn’t seen before–took flight from one of the crumbling parapets, then he looked over at Elinna. 

She was still damp with sweat, but her exerted flush had given way to an almost sickly sort of pallor. He worried for a moment that she may already be starting the process of ceremorphosis–but if that was the case, why hadn’t the same happened to him? 

“Fucking stairs,” she groaned as she bent over and braced her hands on her knees. “I think I may need to sit for just a moment.”

Gale looked at the stairs and then back at her. He quirked his lips slightly, weighing the number of stairs against the health of his knees. 

“I know once you sit it will be all the more difficult for you to get up and get going,” he said. “Let me carry you the rest of the way.”

She balked at him, her verdant eyes wide and a bit of her flush returning to her freckled cheeks. He tried not to think about how charming the look of surprise was. “Y-you can’t,” she said. “I’m filthy–and drenched besides. And I’ll be too heavy.”

“Nonsense,” he insisted. “You hardly come up to my shoulder–and it’s not as if I’m a fine example of cleanliness at the moment. You can tell me proper decorum as we make our way up.”

“Gale–”

“I won’t take no for an answer,” he said with a little teasing glimmer in his eyes. 

He kneeled in front of her, back toward her, and patted his shoulder. “Climb on,” he said. 

There was nothing for a moment and he almost looked back to see if she was going to stubbornly refuse. But just as he was going to, he felt tentative fingertips on his right shoulder; then his left. She smoothed her hand toward the front of him, drawing a tingling line along his collarbones. He tried not to flinch as her hands joined right over the spot the orb burned in his chest, but he couldn’t stop it. 

She froze and almost started withdrawing. He reached up and closed a single hand over both of hers. 

“Did I hurt you?” she asked him.

“Not at all,” he said. “Remember–I’ve been a recluse for some time. Just forgot what it felt like to be touched by someone who isn’t a tressym.”

There was one more moment of hesitation and then finally, Elinna put her weight onto him, hitching her legs above his hips. 

“Alright,” he said. “Going up.”

He scooped his hands under her knees and rose to his feet. 

Truth be told, she was a touch heavier than he’d expected. And he realized with a bit of rueful interest that her body was a little…softer…than he’d anticipated. Even through her layers of canvas and leather, he could feel the supple swell of her thighs, her hips, her breasts…

He shook his head and cleared his throat as he started to climb the stairs. 

“So, what’s our story?” he asked. 

“Mmn–story?” she breathed against his ear. 

Gods, she sounded like a freshly roused lover in the morning. 

“You’re not falling asleep back there, are you?” he asked. 

“Trying not to,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

“Keep talking to me,” he said. “It will help you stay awake.”

And give me something to stop my mind from drifting to what might be beneath your clothes. He thought with no shortage of disgust in himself. 

“Mmh–visitors are prohibited, usually,” she said, her sleepy slurring sending a chill up his spine. “Since you’re carrying me in…maybe tell them you found me unconscious on the ground. They can refuse scholars, but they have an oath to help the needy. Hence…me…”

“The lady deceives,” Gale teased. “I thought you were above such dishonesty.”

She gave a quiet chuckle. “If the guild needs a bit of encouragement to do what is right, who am I to deny it?” Then after a moment. “Thank you…for carrying me. You didn’t have to do that.”

“It’s no bother,” he said. 

And it really wasn’t, aside from his own traitorous thoughts about her. His knees weren’t even tired when he reached the top of the stairs. He looked back at her sidelong. “Hang onto me will you–afraid I’ll need one of these hands.”

He regretted asking her to do that immediately. Her thighs squeezed a little tighter around his middle and he suddenly wished for death. He opened the door as quickly as he could, and went back to holding her knee. 

Inside there was…no one to be found. At least not at first. 

Then came the sound of soft soles scuffing on stone stairs. He gazed to the right, seeing a shadow elongate as it grew further and further away from some torch or sconce further up on the stairs. 

A moment later, a wizened man peered at him through small spectacles on a crooked nose. 

He was dressed somewhat like Elinna, though the embroidery and fastenings on his clothes were finer. On his lapel, he wore a golden dire raven pin with a quill snatched in it’s beak.The pin was connected to a chain from which dangled a single golden key. 

“You’ve reached The Scribe’s Perch,” he said, his voice quiet and willowy, like it had frayed through years of neglect. “I fear we’re not taking visitors.”

In front of Gale’s chest, Elinna’s arms went slack and her body went a little heavier. Her head rested fully on his shoulder, her sleeping breaths gusting warmly on the back of his neck. He supposed it worked better for the tale he had to weave–though he did worry for the poor girl. 

“I’ve found one of your acolytes on the path some way away from here. She seems feverish–likely hungry and dehydrated. She’s gone in and out of consciousness but told me to find you here and ask for you help. Help for both of us.”

The old man merely tilted to get a look at Elinna with a somewhat disinterested expression. “Mnh…there are protocols in place for this, yes,” he said. “An inconvenience to say the least, though. We will have to make arrangements for your supper.”

Gale felt his ire flare and found himself understanding why Elinna seemed so sour about where she’d been reared. It was a wonder she made it out of childhood with her curiosity and her tenacity intact. 

“If it’s too much of a bother, I can see to producing a meal for us,” he said, trying his best to master his tone. 

“No, no,” the man said. “The smells–the oils–they could upset the balance and focus of the archives. Come–I will see you to a lodging for the night. I am afraid I must ask you to stay there and to not wander our halls freely. And you must leave come morning.”

“I thought you had an oath to help the needy,” Gale said. 

“The qualifying criteria which defines who or what is needy is not agreed upon,” he said. “The girl is unconscious, but you stand and walk freely. Surely she is hardly needy if she has you.”

“She’s one of your acolytes,” Gale said. “Surely you can’t be so callous.”

“She’s not an acolyte from The Perch. We do not allow women among our ranks–their scents and scintillations bring focus away from posterity. I allow you to stay only because she still wears our colors and because we’ve received no missive about a disgraced acolyte,” he said. “But there has been a great collision on the shoreline and we work tirelessly to record it.”

“Well you’re in luck–we’re survivors from that crash–we can help you–”

“No. We only accept the accounts of verified scouts,” he said. “Now come–I’ve wasted precious time already. My quill will have started to dry out.”

Gale bit his tongue and simply nodded–worried that if the man showed is rudeness and disinterest again he would snap at the Scribe and lose them a night of rest and the chance to bathe and change. 

Their ungracious host led them up the stairs, past a massive steel door singing with wards, and to a doorway about as tall as Elinna. The Scribe opened the lock with his tiny golden key–a skeleton key it seemed–and gestured him inside. 

Gale bent a bit at the knees, careful to mind Elinna’s head as he ducked into the room. 

“Thank you,” he said. 

“Supper is at seven bells. Porridge, roasted carrots and river fish–you will have to come retrieve it yourself–the kitchens are down the stairs we traveled up and through the small northern wooden door,” their host said. 

And with that, the man simply closed the door and left Gale alone with Elinna. 

Gale looked about the room. 

It was small, about the size of the larder in his tower, and barren. In one corner, a threadbare sheet hung to offer pock-marked privacy should one bathe in the water-swollen, wooden tub there. There was a single desk with a nearly-spent candle perched slantingly in a chamberstick made of brass. Against the far wall stood the bed–

The Bed. 

Singular. 

Only one bed. 

Oh hells, it would be a very long night indeed. 

He carried Elinna over to the bed and carefully cradled her against his back as he pulled back the mildew-smelling covers. Beneath was an old hay mattress. He felt loath to place her on it, but he hadn’t enough energy to conjure something more comfortable for her. 

He supposed it didn’t matter for tonight–the poor girl just needed some sleep. 

He carefully placed her in the bed and hesitated, pondering.

She’d spent so much time during their travels complaining of the feeling of viscera in her clothes; her shoes. He could only imagine how terrible it would feel for her to wake up, warm and damp from feverish sleep, only to still feel soggy boots and garments on your body. 

It wasn’t proper. He wasn’t even sure it would be welcome. But it was a gesture toward her comfort he could actually provide. 

He carefully slipped off her boots, setting them off to the side in a blood-soaked heap. Then he removed her leather gloves, and finally, the waistcoat she wore. 

Beneath her green canvas, she wore a simple muslin dress that fell just slightly off the shoulders. He noted with a bit of curious mirth, that she had a smattering of freckles across the bare skin of her decolletage and arms as well. He wondered how many times she’d had to sneak away from her duties to get those. 

Then he saw something else. 

On the inside of one delicate wrist, he spotted the hint of a violet patch of skin. In a brief panic he turned her arm over to get a better view of it, worried that her transformation may be starting, after all. 

Instead, what he found was scarring. Violet scars forming a ladder of tidy caning marks on the tender skin of the inside of her arm. 

“No wonder you wanted to get out,” he said under his breath as he brushed his thumb against the marks. They were only barely raised. They’d been there a long time then. For some reason it hurt his heart to think of a smaller, squeakier Elinna as her caretakers tried and clearly failed to tame the wonder out of her. 

Perhaps it was because he had also been punished severely for his ambition and thirst for knowledge, but he could no longer bear to see her in the greens, tans and creams of The Scribe’s Guild. Not when there was so much she’d had to fight to keep hold of. 

He thought he could maybe find a pocket somewhere. If he rested he ought to be able to, anyway. Or if not, he could try to look around the grounds and scrounge something up for each of them to change into. And maybe a few supplies for setting up camp, too, since they wouldn’t be granted time to catch their bearings at The Perch. 

He pulled the worn blanket up enough to cover her arms, but not so high that the smell of mildew could wake her. 

He walked over to the tiny door and looked back over his shoulder one more time to make sure she was still quite asleep. 

And then he slipped out of their sorry room to find a place to restore himself. 

[galedekarios]

seeing @mercymaker's own post about the "apology" made me feel confident enough to air my own feelings about it now that i have had a night to think it over and not internalise it anymore.

i'm not going to further belabour the point again how this "apology" is not an apology at all, but a statement where he doubles down on everything, omitting important facts, twisting truths, dancing around the issue at heart, and so much more.

it's frankly exhausting at this point.

i want to address one thing specifically however since he thought it was prudent to dedicate an entire paragraph to it in his "apology".

the fact that he wrote this:

"Truthfully I am not sure when or if I’ll begin creating again but I will continue to ask for permission to credit/use someone’s works if I feel like I’m inspired like I honestly had been doing following the late March situation. I do not expect any forgiveness or positive reactions to come out of this tbh, I just know an apology was warranted and deserved. This time I’m actually taking a step back to evaluate it."

after he just said this:

"To one gifset in particular, the hands set, that gifset was honestly a pure coincidence/accident. I truthfully had no idea that the blog had done something similar first. Hands are a common theme in Gales romance that I picked up on and I had no idea a similar set was done prior. I can say this about other sets too but it was this one in particular that I can honestly say was an honest coincidence/accident. And I couldn’t have known that those scenes/themes bore any special significance to that blog. Also I want to acknowledge I was never seeking “mutualship” but more so I enjoyed them as a creator and most likely had tumblr technical issues. I’m sorry if my actions ever made you feel unsafe, that’s the last thing I’d want to make someone feel :/"

it's just... absolutely vile to me.

first off, i have to ask: which is it? are you "apologising" or are you still trying to pretend that the concepts gifs i created and you stole are "common" things that you "picked up on" and "had no idea a similar set was done prior", which you could "say about other sets too"?

i'm confused at this point...

i'm being facetious here. i'm not. he's not sorry. he's sorry he got caught. again. and that, this time, it reached other parts of the fandom that it previously didn't, where he couldn't lie anymore about how all of this is just a case of people bullying him, of people being exclusive and clique-y.

i don't understand why he singled that set out in his "apology", however, other than that he must know by at this point that it's the one gifset that most upset me. not only because he stole it twice, but because it is so meaningful to me.

so... let's look at the facts here:

he followed me from early on, ever since my blog got traction in the bg3 fandom after the full release of the game

he engaged with me via messages and comments at around this time

there was no talk abt this theme specifically in relation to gale until after my meta and gifset gained traction, despite being a set containing an original character, which generally does worse in terms of engagement

he stole several other of my concept gifsets that i posted around this period in time (gale + missing waterdeep, gale + saying i love you, gale of waterdeep vs gale dekarios, one of my oc compilation sets)

he contacted me to remake a gifset in particular that was an older set as well, just like the hands set

i showed side by comparisons in my original post (same scenes, same frames, same framing, same caption) and it was so blatant to the point of where several people reached out to me, confused if the copy is actually my set or reblogging it, thinking it was mine

i think it's pretty obvious what actually happened, considering the context and, to be honest, at this point i don't think even he believes his own lies anymore.

all i can say is that this was not about apologising - none of this was - it was about trying to save face and doubling down.