positivejam
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“A big night for newly minted hall-of-famer Shane Hollander—”
Tie and tails. The tux still fit him.
“And with two Stanley Cups and an Olympic Gold Medal...Ilya Rozanov celebrates retirement at an astounding forty-two…”
Greys had crept into the tips of his hair like an early morning frost. Those same early mornings got harder as the cold seeped into his cartilage scars. Shane Hollander’s retirement came after ice baths, acupuncture and oxycodone.
“We invite you to join us in bookending the NHL’s greatest rivalry. Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome last year’s Hall of Fame inductee Shane Hollander to present Ilya Rozanov with his plaque.”
It had been fifteen years since they saw one another, and shaking Ilya Rozanov’s hand on stage in Toronto felt like mutually assured destruction.
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And suddenly, filling his entire screen, Rozanov was grinning into the camera with a row of bloody teeth. His lip was split. When he wiped his mouth with the back of his bare hand, it came away streaked with red. He spat the rest onto the ice with an awful smile and a wink before getting to his feet.
Jane: Can you stay in the dressing room?
Lily: Are you asking or telling?
Jane: You hate being told what to do.
Lily: Not when it's you
Jane: Stay.
Jane: You looked really fucking good taking that hit.
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Uneasy is the Head by positivejam for TopoftheLighthouse
Fandoms: Baldur's Gate (Video Games)
30 Dec 2025
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Concerning: Scourge, Silhouette, Signet, Satin, Sunrise, and Solarflare – Select Correspondence from the Desk of Mother Superior Shadowheart.
Carve through the virgin parchment. Up, curve, flick, bleed. Every ‘S’ was a billowing black sail, blotted through the leatherbound dossier. Every name leveled a target on her back. Tonight, she pressed her quill in deep enough to scar.
Shadowheart was no fool.
She knew the hatchet was buried in a shallow grave.
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Highwaywoman by positivejam for ACrowsRockCollection
Fandoms: Baldur's Gate (Video Games)
09 Dec 2025
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In another life, Jaheira met Gale in the woods outside Waterdeep. She was silver haired, still, but he was the arrogant graduate of his youth. In the fantasy, she had far worse intentions. Her swords would prickle against his fresh-shaved face. Her vines– Gods, those vines, he remembered them still– would tie him tight and prickle through his fine silks. “Scared of your own blood, Dekarios?” She’d tease, tucking the swordpoint under his chin. “Oh, poor thing. Of course you are, you’re only a cub.”
In some bid to tidy an office whipped through vellum and vine, Gale could not help but laugh when he found what his lover had deigned to keep from the old days.
Staring back at him in faded brown ink was a scowling young Jaheira, plastered upon a Wanted poster.
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The courier’s vice was not in shiny red caps and chips. The woman who crawled out the grave– against all accounts, against nature– craved something just as aberrant as she was. Something that made her think men like him should kneel before her. Something that lingered in laser rifle ozone and bloody red sand.
The courier wanted the same thing as every milk-toothed warlord crushed under the Legion did.
Power.
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“You carry me well,” his orb murmurs, finding its voice. What was once a strange echo of whispers has settled into something rich and baritone: something more befitting the dark, decadent marks upon Gale’s skin. “So curious. So clever. So…hungry.”
There is a throb in his gut at the word hungry. The pain of a man starved for days, stomach distended and left wanting. Gale drops both hands and rolls on his side with a groan. He feels the distinct sensation of nails scraping through his hair and it takes him a moment to realize they are his own. Petting. Soothing.
“So feed, Gale. Feed me. Feed…us.”
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"It's a love song, it's a tale of love from long ago. It's a sad song, but we're gonna sing it even so..."
An unknown number of years after the defeat of the Netherbrain, Shadowheart must live with the consequences of her choices in the Gauntlet of Shar and her relationship with Gale, the newly minted God of Ambition. How do you live with a heart that's torn between two gods? Sometimes, the answer is, "You don't." But every year brings another chance to try again, and maybe - just maybe - it really will turn out this time.
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Bookmarked by positivejam
08 Dec 2025
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In the crumbling depths of the Underdark, Astarion has carved out a fragile sanctuary for the spawn he freed—and now leads. Gale, no longer a divine errand boy and with no adventure left to occupy him, arrives seeking purpose—and finds only rot. He tells himself it’s altruism. It might even be friendship. But Gale’s never been good at lying, not even to himself.
Can he survive what the Underdark demands of him? What Astarion wants from him? Or is he simply chasing redemption in all the wrong places?
Bookmarked by positivejam
12 Jul 2025
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He could say later that he stepped forward because of the silence spell. His arsenal smothered. He had no choice.
But Gale knows that even if he had the entire Weave at his fingertips, for once in his miserable life, he’d go without.
He’ll use his hands.
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- English
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- 28/28
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Bookmarked by positivejam
19 Sep 2024
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Astarion thought this stupid hot sauce show would last a season or two before it was cancelled. Ten years later, he’s still Cazador’s sidekick, taking potshots for laughs and enduring worse abuse when the cameras stop rolling.
An upcoming guest—famed magician Gale Dekarios—has never seen an episode of Hot Mess, and he’s about to shake things up.
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- Part 1 of Sauce
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Wine on her tongue and bile in her throat as she looks at the goblins celebrating around them.
Karlach was the first to go.
Then Wyll was next.
Struggling to find their own way forward after slaughtering the tieflings, Gale and Shadowheart face horrors and the inevitable threat of death while finding safety and comfort in each other - no matter how short it may last.