miauzuli

I finally started the summer semester for Uni, but luckily it's only one class! This is a little different to my usual "fic progress" WIP updates, but I've been gnawing at the idea for about a week and finally allowed myself to put words onto a doc!

Thank you so much to @unovafarm, @lucretiouswept, @gortashsrighthand, @carnivaley, @optimisticgrey, @archduchessgortash for the tags! I loved reading all of your WIPS. You are such incredible writers!

I hope you enjoy what I have to offer :3

There is a particular kind of man that can look at himself in the mirror and know exactly how fucked up in the head he really is. Not the kind who would confess his depravity so openly- tearfully, dramatically, to just anyone who would be willing enough to listen- searching for a sense of absolution in the retelling. No. I am talking about the kind of man who sits with the knowledge that he is not like the others the way one sits with an old scar. Familiar. Unremarkable. Simply... there. I am that kind of man. What I do in the dark hours of this city- and I will not dress it up, not here, not inside my own head where a performance like that would be truly pathetic- is undeniably wrong. By every metric a decent soul might apply to the word. I know this. I have known this since the day I started this so-called life. And I have continued anyway, because the alternative is simply existing through another night with nothing but the inside of my own skull for company, and I am afraid that particular option ran out of appeal some time ago. It started, as most unfortunate things do, quite simply. I could not sleep. I have not been able to sleep since the night I took Cazador’s power for my own- since I carved the contract into the flesh of his back and swallowed everything he was whole. I kept telling myself that it was a fair trade. My freedom. His power. The sun’s rays beating warm and golden on my face for the first time in two hundred years without the aid of a gods-damned illithid tadpole burrowing through my brain. What was one small mercy against everything I gained? Quite a lot, as it turns out.

 Loving another is not soft, wizard. It is one of the hardest things a person can do.

Well. I am rather pleased with him. Hope you'll like him as well, folks 🩶

Gale as the Evening Start from Alphonse Mucha ✨

Yes I know, I know, Mystryl is technically dead at this time, but she was still (as Mystra is now) the embodiment of the Weave, so I put her old symbol instead of the newest Mystra one, as a marker of Gale's love for magic, rather than Mystra herself. And I've swapped the original design from Mucha to have a good view of the orb.

Others in the series can be found here :

Astarion as 'The North Star' Shadowheart as 'The Moon' Wyll as 'The Morningstar' Lae'zel as 'The Comet'

I often whisper 'hello ! i'm gale--' to myself because I just love the way he says that particular line.

"Two tickets to God's Favorite Princess, please."

Mom said no bigots allowed in her house.

We are all equal, regardless of who we love or how we identify. What truly matters is striving to be the best version of ourselves.

🌈🌈 (stickers)