•a universe of exploding stars•

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chapter nine of to dream of starry skies, my gale/tav angsty slice-of-life au, is here <3

link

snippet:

The unspoken meaning behind her words rots like bile on her tongue. She sees the exact moment it registers, flooding with regret as Gale flinches like he’s been slapped. “I didn’t…”

“That’s alright. I didn’t either,” he replies, so neutral it frightens her. “We are adept at saying things we do not mean to one another. So adept that it is in both of our best interests to continue keeping our distance.”

Daphne finds that she cannot argue. Gale manages to bring out her best and worst all at once, a sensation that has her torn apart as if caught between planes. Her statements are usually controlled—careful things that she curates to fit the scenario she is in—but with him, they spill from her lips like waterfalls of words. She gives him a barely perceptible nod and swallows hard against the suspended silence that follows. As she turns away, she does not let on that she sees his uncaring mask slip into one of conflict.

chapter eight of my gale/tav fic, to dream of starry skies, is here <3

link

snippet

“They’re back!” Daphne shouts in disbelief, disabling the wards with a swift chant. The door swings open, and the Blade of Avernus tumbles inside, backed by Karlach and Typhon. They are sweaty and soot-covered and battered, but they are laughing. “Did you…” She does not need to finish, for the unmistakable joy on her brother’s face says it all.

“We cut the bitch’s head off and fed it to the Styx!” Karlach growls, grinning toothily with her fist pumped in the air. The room bursts into cheers and whoops that Daphne gladly participates in, embracing them all regardless of the smell of sulfur.

chapter seven of my gale/tav fic, to dream of starry skies, is here <3

link

snippet:

“Thirteen days. Thirteen days I was dead. Do you think it awful too? Do I feel like a walking corpse when you touch me?”

She expects him to let her go. The knowledge he has obtained is too much, surely, and soon he will cast her out or end her altogether. She should have known that Gale has never been a man to meet expectations. No, he exceeds them—every time. His hands leave her face, but they land on her sides to draw her closer, into the strongest embrace of her life. The fingers on his right hand manage to find the very place the arrow pierced her over her clothes, and they do not draw away.

my bloodweave angst with a happy ending fic, an improvised guide on what to do when your fiancé holds a gun to his head on a cold, starlit evening, is here <3

summary:

To be actively suicidal, as he has previously viewed it, is a poetic form of self-destruction worthy of soft fame and a tragic memorial. Astarion has spent his life with the understanding that killing oneself is an act of tortured devastation that, in a cruel and twisted way, is utterly beautiful. Though he never came close aside from fleeting fantasies, he thought he could imagine the experience based on pure speculation and interpretation.

The real thing is anything but beautiful. The real thing is ugly, seething, convulsing as it wraps its dark tendrils around all that he loves and rips it apart with hungry claws. It has festered for so long that its release is catastrophic, rotting its way through any hope clinging to the rafters. He does not know if he can face the monster behind the mask. Still, when Gale’s eyes finally meet his, he finds it in himself to try.

OR

chapter one of my astronaut ellie williams au, beyond desolation, is here <3

link

snippet:

Ellie doesn't need proof to know that Abby Anderson killed Joel Miller. She doesn't need proof when she felt the brake pedal slam uselessly against the car floor—felt the fear of losing control yet again. Dina would tell her, "An eye for an eye, and the world goes blind," but she could never understand. She hasn't felt...she hasn't seen...

chapter four of my gale/tav fic, to dream of starry skies, is here💫

chapter four: venture forth

snippet:

They freed Aylin. They defied Shar. They defeated Ketheric Thorm and the Avatar of Myrkul, and there is no victory. Only a trail of bodies left behind and bloodstains that may never wash clean.

Daphne spends her sleepless nights replaying the moment Thorm dropped dead, beseeching the gods above for a shred of satisfaction. The man who tamed death in the name of love for the last piece of his heart that had not turned to ash lies at her feet every evening, crying out for his daughter. It is only when she thinks of Aylin that she feels outrage, fists clenched at the thought of the aasimar at Thorm’s mercy for a hundred years.

chapter three of my gale/tav fic, to dream of starry skies, is here <3

link to chapter three: the weight of faith, the strength of hope

snippet:

“One more thing, just to get us started.” He awaits her permission, then asks, “What is your favorite color?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Your favorite color. What is it? Mine happens to be purple, if it isn’t obvious by now.”