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#in case you've forgotten
misscrazyfangirl321 · 1 month
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Hey if you haven't eaten cereal in awhile it's kinda good actually
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hellshee · 1 year
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reminder that tankies can choke
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berrydoodleoo · 11 months
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the king’s hand (defier of destiny)
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ayrennaranaaldmeri · 2 years
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GO BACK TO THE SHADOW AND TAKE THIS GARBAGE SHOW WITH YOU.
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sanguinespirited · 2 months
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ooc ;;
Me: I'm going to get my drafts done tomorrow Chronic pain and ADHD: sorry didn't get the memo
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Baghra’s astonishment at Dark Lord Sasha disfiguring Genya is also pretty hillarious. “You are making an example out of your formerly (but not now because she was clearly bailing on you and your whole cause) loyal servant?! That’s appalling! I would never expect anything like this out of you, the person who a few weeks ago nuked a city with horrible dark magic with the same exact motive (i.e. to make an example out of it)!”
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hiddenbeks · 7 months
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shes so *clenches fist* babygirl
#not enough khalessposting on my blog. needs rectifying immediately#el plays bg3#ch: khaless#anyway im feeling conflicted abt her backstory. i dont think it works with the mostly good aligned way ive been playing her#she Should be more unhinged and less willing to be good considering her upbringing. initially at least#even if you get away from menzoberranzan and lolth you dont just shake their influence on ur worldview in a few years. right#when you've survived 100+ years by deceiving and backstabbing and destroying anyone who gets in your way#and Then someone more powerful than u (a baenre!!!!) deceives You and destroys ur entire house and life and everything you've achieved#sure i could revamp her backstory n make her the child of like. happy eilistraeean surface drow#but why would i make a drow character and not give them the baggage from growing up in a fucked up lolthite society !#makes her journey towards finding friendship and love and healing and trust much more compelling!!#i just need to figure out Where she is in her redemption era or whatev#and what exactly compels her to be Kind when everything she had in menzoberranzan she got by being Not Kind.#sure she lost it all in the end but 'i should have been kinder' is not the lesson she learned from that#she only learned that her reckless ambition made her careless. learning kindness comes much later but... when and how and why...#anyway. can someone more versed in forgotten realms lore tell me how lolth-worshipping drow would even feel abt a draconic sorcerer.#when the scales are an obvious sign that their powers come from a dragon instead of lolth#and in khaless' case they come from a silver dragon... a disgusting lawful good metallic dragon... blasphemous
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neil-gaiman · 9 months
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Hi, Neil
Just quick reminder, in case you've forgotten: TV shows are supposed to save us from hurtful reality, and S2 had a genre hurt/no comfort.
I really hope S3, if it ever happens (or a book maybe?), will take away all no-s, and transform them into yes-s. I refuse to embrace cruel reality of the end of Ep6. I even wrote a fix-it on Ao3.
Your heartbroken, saddened, crying 😭 fan,
Lots of love and respect though, always,
Helen
I'm sorry. I thought that anyone who had seen Crowley and Aziraphale split up in the Bandstand and again on the Soho street, and the bookshop burn down and Aziraphale discorporate, in Season 1, had already experienced bad things happening to characters they love, especially at the end of act 2.
And no, I didn't ever think that I was only making comfort viewing. I was making thinking and feeling viewing too.
I love that it's making people write fix-it-fictions. That's always the best response to art: making your own.
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pinketine · 1 year
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Anyways goodnight watch Miracle Aligner live (my fave is Rock en Seine) for that extra verse 💗
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e1igius · 1 year
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current to do list ( because im already behind even tho huck's been ont his blog less than a month like tf ) note , im like not worried about the memes bc i hoard them but in case anyone was wondering i added them in too ? as a reminder , plotted threads get priority over any other type of writing.
jasperrs - 1 thread executiioner - 3 threads , 6 meme replies slayedeath - 1 thread godclaws - 3 threads , 2 meme replies l0vemade - 2 meme replies medicbled - 1 thread , 2 meme replies untwined - 1 thread inkfng - 1 thread chmerical - 1 thread akfil - 1 thread , 6 meme replies feralsmile - 1 meme reply hijckcd - 4 meme replies cartaxus - 1 meme reply
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bootlegspiders · 5 days
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Hey, so for Watcher fans who may not wanna pay for another subscription or just wanna watch something new here are some other youtubers you should take a look at if you want to get a spook or learn some history
(* = potentially triggering topics covered usually associated with crimes, so be careful)
Ghost Hunting and general spooky vibes:
AmysCrypt - Your typical ghost hunting show with two Australians traveling the world, though I will say they do go to places I've never heard of before and they do very good research. And there are some goofs along with the spooks.
The Ouija Brothers - Two British dudes finding ghosts in England. The vibes are generally pretty chill and it's a good time
The Paranormal Scholar - A mixed bag of all paranormal happenings from ghosts to demons to cryptids and aliens. Sort of an overview to deepdives on various paranormal occurrences. The research is immaculate and their voice is very soothing in my opinion.
Paranormal Quest - Ghost hunting in the US, sometimes goofy sometimes serious, but they do go to some interesting places and some familiar ones too
Weird History:
ObsoleteOddity* - This guy is great, like 80% of the things he covers I've never heard of before. Very atmospheric, fun little visuals, and a large variety of weird events and people for topics.
Georgia Marie* - A little bit of everything, but she focuses on strange things that have happened, lgbt history, true crime, and historical disasters. She covers enough of everything that I'm sure you'll find something
Stefanie Valentine* - I'm not sure if she even posts anymore, but I thought what she was doing was great. Think Vampira or Elvira but for older true crime and ghost stories, I think the latest covered would have been like early 1900s. Idk I just thought it was like a cute spooky lil storytime
Caitlin Doughty or Ask A Mortician* - Pretty sure y'all would know who she is but just in case, she's a mortician who covers topics relating to death! From odd ways people have died, or odd things that have happened to people after they've died. And just odd or tragic things that have happened through history. It's silly, but done with levity and care and respect the topics deserve.
General History:
Part-Time Explorer - Mostly history on ships and ghost towns with the occasional train. Lots of research and interviews, very well done and worth checking out even if it may not be your thing.
History's Forgotten People - Talks about sometimes obscure, or sometimes not, historical individuals. Even if you've heard of the person in the topic, they'll talk on something obscure about that person.
History Tea Time with Lindsay Holiday - A heavy focus on royalty around the world, a generally upbeat dive into historic individuals.
(Or you could always go watch time team, that's an option and it's my guilty pleasure love me some archeology)
True Crime:
There are so many out there, so I'll just recommend two of my favorites
Gabulosis* - She focuses on vintage cases 20 years or older (literally in her opener) and is well researched and respectful. Another one that talks on cases I've never heard of that deserve to be heard.
Mysterious WV* - True crime and missing persons based in the West Virginia area and neighboring states. Idk how to even explain the vibes. This guy is just great please watch him trust me you won't be disappointed.
That's all for now, feel free to add your own recs out there!
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i-drop-level-one-loot · 8 months
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*NSFW* How to train your pet Human pt. 3 (Yandere!Alien x GN!Reader)
CW: Dub-con, mild psychological distress, mind break, dead dove fic
Part 1, part 2
Kirtch slumped over his friend's standing chair, miserable and mopey.
A tall creature, taller than even Kirtch, sighed dramatically, sauntering around their depressed friend with a smaller horned being crawling behind them.
"I don't understand what I'm doing wrong." Kirtch whined pathetically in Jaudna's native tongue. Jaudna made a gurgling sound with the soft spot on their head, the closest human equivalent being someone rolling their eyes. They sprawled across their lounging seat, motioning for their pet to stay on his knees.
"I'll tell you exactly what you've done wrong. You pampered them too much."
"I punish them!"
"You punished them for their escape attempt. That was it. You've allowed your pet to test your authority in plenty of ways after that."
The man on his knees pleaded with his eyes to be let up, but stayed perfectly still, like he wasn't alive. Kirtch noted Jaudna's pet's demeanor with discomfort. That discomfort only lasted until he imagined (Reader) in that same position, looking up at him with their large dewy eyes, waiting so patiently to be held by him... his discomfort was replaced by jealousy.
"You don't understand, (Reader's) such a sweet little pet, and whenever they struggle they're so cute about it. I just can't understand why they aren't happy."
"Humans' minds are incredibly flawed. According to the few psychological texts I have gotten my claws on over the years, their memory is not set in stone like ours, it is fickle and easily manipulated. One of my books referenced a case in the nation called 'The United States of America' where nearly the entire country fell into panic over an imaginary evil, because a few doctors used a phoney science called 'hypnotism', a practice they believed could help recover forgotten memories, on a bunch of children, but accidentally implanted false memories of abuse, leaving the children traumatized, believing that they had been victims of a horrific occult."
Kirtch looked to his good friend nervously. "Are you implying I do something nefarious to my pet's mind?"
"No, I'm showcasing an example of how stupidly easy it should be to train your pet to love you." They tossed a book into Kirtch's hands, the cover printed with a photograph of a wild looking man, with fluffy hair and dark, hateful eyes. "Hypnotism isn't the only creative way humans have learned to reprogram each other."
Kirtch almost threw the book back, but saw Jaudna's unnamed pet still sitting so patiently for his master, and the pain in his body where his heart may have been throbbed again. "Thank you.. Jaudna."
(Reader) had waited for what they assumed to be well over an Earth day, alone in Kirtch's quarters, waiting for his return. The only company they received were the employees who brought their meals, speaking down at them in a language they didn't know, but could understand the disgust. It had been over a month since their fight with Kirtch. Every day since had been nothing but hell, feeling like their heart had been ripped out, they laid in their bed cage, only moving when necessary, allowing themselves to hide away inside their own mind.
The main door opened again, and (Reader) could hear Kirtch's long, graceful steps as he passed through the study and into the bedroom. "(Reader)? Are you still in bed?"
In an act of defiance, (Reader) kept their mouth shut, pulling the blanket tighter around their shoulders. But it was of little use, as Kirtch easily lifted their purposefully dead weighted body out of the bed.
"I'm sorry I was gone for so long, pet, but I had to see an old friend for advice." He carried (Reader) back to his desk, sitting them in his lap, fighting to hold them upright as they flopped about limply. "(Reader), please sit up so I can take off your shirt."
He began working on the wrists, the intricate metal cuffs with multiple buttons that almost acted like locks, and (Reader) subtly straightened their back to give him better access to the neck corset thing, thankful to finally have it off for a couple hours at least. (Reader) had grown to find it somewhat elegant the past few months, but it still was an incredible pain in the ass.
Feeling the air on their neck was bliss, and (Reader) immediately ran their fingers over their skin. (Reader) breathed a deep sigh, relaxing their body unintentionally. But almost as soon as their hands left their throat, a new collar was latched into place, a loud mechanism clicking as it tightened, stabbing the back of their neck with what felt like a fixed needle.
(Reader) cried out in pain, sprawling out their limbs on reflex, pushing themselves out of Kirtch's embrace and onto the floor, lying naked on their knees as they clawed at the collar, desperate to relieve the pain.
"What?? Why?" Their voice was barely audible through their sobs.
"I'm so sorry my pet, the pain will end soon, wait-" Kirtch pushed a button on what looked like a remote, and (Reader) could physically feel the rush of liquid enter their body, then the pain lightened, leaving (Reader) almost euphoric in it's absence.
"What is this? Why did you do this?" Betrayal laced their tone, and Kirtch looked almost on the verge of tears, but he stood still, refusing his urge to scoop up his little pet and beg for forgiveness.
"I know now that I didn't train you correctly, and for that I am sorry. I've given you too much leeway, and that is why you've been so unhappy." He took a ragged breath, thumbing the controller as he thought out his words. "I didn't want to do this, but I care about your happiness. This is for the best."
"So you put a shock collar on me?" (Reader) asked incredulously, spitting venom.
"No, nothing barbaric like that!" Kirtch looked hurt, flinching as he almost dropped onto his knees to comfort (Reader). "I just need to convince you that you're happy here with me, just as I did the first night you were here, to help you release your stress."
(Reader) remembered the shot he gave them, that first night when Kirtch used a toy to get them off, the hormones he artificially added to their body to make them feel pleasure, and then thought about the pain in the back of their neck. The color drained from their face. There were only two options; plead or double down.
"You can manipulate me all you like, I'll never be happy here." A tear escaped as (Reader) transformed their hurt into anger. "I deserve someone who will love me, not as a pet, but as an equal. Because I am a human fucking being. And we have partnerships. We don't jack off our pets, we do not love our pets like we love the people we have sex with, because that- that is not okay! Why did you.." (Reader) couldn't stop themselves from crying, looking up to try to at least slow the waterworks.
The silence between them was loud. (Reader) turned away, wiping away their snot with their bare arms.
"Pet, noun; a domestic or tamed animal kept for companionship or pleasure. Adjective; denoting a thing that one devotes special attention to or feels particularly strongly about." (Reader) looked up, horrified. "Your's may not be my first language, but I feel I had a pretty decent grasp on my understanding of what a pet is."
Kirtch placed a hand over his face to hide his expression.
"You'll be happier once this is all over. I promise."
"You son of a-!" (Reader) couldn't finish their sentence, more fluid passed into their spine, followed by an immediate sense of emptiness. Extreme anxiety flooded their body, causing severe stomach pain almost instantly. They collapsed, holding onto their midsection, their bare skin clammy. "What? Why?"
"No more talking back to me, pet." Kirtch kept his voice steady.
(Reader) cried out, rapidly becoming exhausted from heavy nothingness filling their body. "Please.. stop.."
Kirtch nodded, appearing relieved. He pushed another button, and the emptiness ebbed away, leaving (Reader) numb.
"I don't understand why you're doing this." (Reader) weakly grumbled, too tired to pick themselves up.
"Because I want you to be happy."
"I'll never be happy with you."
"Why?"
"Because! I deserve to be loved!"
"I love you-"
"Fucking liar." (Reader) snarled, knowing that this would cause them to be punished again, but needing to get in the last word. Kirtch looked so miserable, so crushed by (Reader's) words, but they felt vindicated by his pain. They needed to twist the knife deeper.
He smiled, so sadly, and grabbed a blanket, bending onto one knee as he covered his pet. "I love you, (Reader)."
Their heart clenched, and their face flushed. Immediately they searched his hands for the remote. "S-stop that."
"I love you."
Chemicals pumped into their neck, making (Reader) feverish and causing their thighs to ache. Their breath hitched, and tears of betrayal escaped. "I hate you."
"I know."
More pain gripped their throat, regret causing physical discomfort. "Why are you doing this?"
His smooth shelled fingers caressed their jaw, tenderly cradling (Reader's) face as though he needed them. Kirtch's touch sent shivers across (Reader's) skin, and they couldn't tell if it was because of the collar or their loneliness, but they wanted to pull him closer, make him touch them more.
"I will live for much longer than you. I will watch you grown old, and die. Even then, I will still love you. You are the most incredible creature I've ever met. I don't mind if you push me away, and slap at me. I just want you to be happy, at least most of the time." His head grew closer, his hardened face almost brushing (Reader's). "Let me make you happy."
'I need to fight back. Make him pay! I'm practically a slave! He bought me! I'll never see my family again because of him!'
(Reader) leaned forward, mind melting through their ears from the intense heat, and smashed their lips onto where his should have been.
All rational thoughts were drowned out by the intense need. They needed him, his love. (Reader) was aware of the sound of buttons clicking, but they couldn't stop, crawling onto Kirtch's body, feeling the edges of his joints scraping their back as his hands hungrily roamed their body, wanting to touch everything.
They would have felt ashamed, knowing how aroused they were, their exposed body touching Kirtch's stomach. Sweat was clinging to (Reader's) skin, and their eyes drooped stupidly. The only thing they could think of was relieving themselves, and wanting to see Kirtch relieved as well.
"Are you going to fuck me?" (Reader) whined between wet kisses, drunk on his touches.
"I will, if you want me to."
Their mood shifted, frustration beginning to surface again. "No. If you love me, wouldn't you want me?"
Kirtch sighed, fiddling with the remote behind (Reader's) back. "I do not have the same nervous system as humans do. We only engage in sexual acts for the purpose of procreation."
Shame shocked (Reader), sobering them up instantly. "Oh. I- I am so sorry." (Reader) moved to get off of Kirtch, but was held in place by the much stronger being.
"I will, to make you happy."
"No, I'm sorry! It won't make me happy knowing you aren't feeling good. I'm-I'm sorry, please let me go."
Kirtch pressed the button again, watching his pet's face darken and their mouth go from frightened to slack jawed. "Knowing you are feeling pleasure, from me, and only me, will bring me more joy than I can express." His cloak was ripped away, revealing his gorgeously colored exoskeleton. Kirtch gripped (Reader's) face tighter, forcing his blue tongue deep into their mouth, bursting with pride at the sounds (Reader) was making.
"What do you want me to do?" Kirtch asked, not intending on sounding like he was teasing them, but Kirtch craved the sound of their voice begging him.
"Please.." (Reader) swallowed their drool, feeling the hormones pumping into their brain, but too horny to care. "Please fuck me."
The spot on his pelvis where a human's genitals would be split open and a long, slimy cock revealed itself, growing behind (Reader's) back to a horrifying size. (Reader) only became aware of his erection when it fell forward, slapping against (Reader's) ass and lower back. In their intoxicated state, they turned back to look at what had suddenly touched them, and their eyes grew large in surprise. "Is that..? That's too big..."
Off balance and tipsy, (Reader) turned around, still sitting on Kirtch's abdomen, so that they were facing his exposed dick, and touched it experimentally. It was ridiculously huge, but because of the hormones being injected into (Reader's) neck, they were ravenous, using both hands to pump up and down on the shaft as they stuck the thin tipped head into their mouth, tasting Kirtch passionately. Kirtch was beyond elated, watching his precious pet so needy for him.
Kirtch picked (Reader) up, moaning at the popping sound as he pulled their mouth away from his body, seeing nothing but love in (Reader's) eyes as he spun them back to face him, and slowly began lowering (Reader) onto his naturally lubricated member. "Keep looking at me."
(Reader's) mind was hazy, and it felt like they were about to die, saliva and alien fluids leaking out their mouth and down their chin. Their internal voice had gone silent, the amount of tampering that had been done to their brain left (Reader) devoid of rational thought and intellect. "Yes sir." They barely got the words out as Kirtch entered their body, sliding into their needy little hole easily and without resistance, ramming himself in so their pelvis smacked into his shell with a wet plop, bringing (Reader) to a climax just from entering.
"Smile for me, pet." Kirtch cooed joyfully, loving how (Reader's) body spasmed, before slowly lifting them up, revealing the trail of their combined wetness stretching between their reproductive organs.
(Reader) smiled, reacting on autopilot as they rode out their orgasm, practically biting off their tongue when their sensitive body connected with Kirtch's again. "Ahhh, I already came! Stop!!" Their words cried for relief, however their voice and smile demanded more. It was too much, and (Reader) did want a break, but it also felt amazing, and that dirty little part of themselves that was desperate for love needed their body to be abused.
Kirtch bounced (Reader) on his cock, fucking them like a toy, regretting that he didn't have a camera rolling to capture just how adorable his pet was in his hands. "Look at how happy you are, pet! Don't you want to be this happy all the time? Don't you always want to be happy, with me?"
Kirtch greedily pushed the button again, peppering (Reader) with kisses as they came again, their sticky juices splattering on his stomach. The squelching sound of (Reader's) bruising body getting fucked by the hard as steel monster beneath them was music to Kirtch's ears. He had, embarrassingly, read the book his friend had lent him, and knew now how humans used pleasure to keep brainwashed people by their side. But it wasn't just pleasure, it was that feeling of connection. He had thought about what (Reader) had said, that humans don't jack off their pets, and that made sense, for animals that did not share the same level of intelligence as an adult human. What (Reader) needed, was to feel equal, to feel like they weren't just a pet, but a partner. So how would they feel, if Kirtch ejaculated so deep into their body they were still excreting his cum weeks later?
"I'm going to mark you as mine, (Reader)." It was a lie, his species did no such thing, but the look of unbridled joy on (Reader's) cross eyed face, the loopy smile that twitched as tears poured down to their chest, was a sight that made it worth lying.
"Are you cumming? Are you cumming in me?" (Reader) slurred, barely holding themselves upright in Kirtch's grasp.
"If you promise to be a good little pet." Kirtch could hold out for as long as needed. His species did not have sex for pleasure, so there was no sense of urgency when they needed to release. He could have continued going for hours, if he hadn't overdone it with the collar. (Reader) was on the verge of passing out.
"I promise! I promise to be a good pet! I promise!" (Reader) exclaimed, colliding their lips back onto Kirtch's as a string of hot sperm shot up into (Reader's) body, a fluid so thick it was practically glue, leaving (Reader) feeling physically full. Kirtch couldn't help but push the button again, seeing his pet overflow with adoration for him.
"I love you, (Reader), I really really do."
Kirtch whispered sweet nothing's into his pet's ear as they passed out, then carried them to his bed, tucking in their swollen body, not minding the mess. (Reader) really was the most beautiful and adorable little pet in the entire universe. He doubt that he would ever get another pet after (Reader) was gone. He sat on the floor, rubbing circles into their tear stained cheeks, smiling contently.
Of course, the next day Kirtch would have to use the collar, showing (Reader) how bad they truly felt inside when they refused to get out of bed, and while it was awful making them cry when they tried to refuse to eat, it was for the best. Kirtch knew it wouldn't take long for (Reader) to graduate from needing their collar, and that soon they would always be by his side, begging him to pick them up and play with them. It didn't matter whether (Reader) needed cuddles or needed to be filled with his seed, Kirtch would overuse that remote until they desired his touch all the time.
He didn't mind the glassy, doll like glaze to their eyes, the change in their speech, the way they began crying whenever it looked like Kirtch was unhappy, or how they stopped pushing him away. After months of flushing their system with artificial love, Kirtch knew that his pet was happy with him. And that was all that mattered.
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messiahzzz · 5 months
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i have seen several posts around that addressed how discouraging gale from taking the crown of karsus is “keeping him from realizing his true potential.” that tara is merely upset at his choice, instead of being utterly devastated at the loss of her little love. that it’s not a bad ending per se because to get there he didn’t need to sacrifice 7000 innocent souls in the process. gale isn’t continuing the cycle of abuse either, he still appears to love tav and does come back for them to offer them ascension. he wants them to be equal, so it can’t possibly be an unhealthy dynamic, right?
but what of gale himself, his own convictions, values, and everything he holds dear? everything flawed and human that shaped him into the person he is?
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player: are you saying you want to ascend? claim godhood?
gale: no, not like that. i don't want to join them. i want to better them. a god's powers, paired with a mortal conscience, a mortal heart.
gale’s motivation for acquiring godhood is that he will able to aid mortals in a way no other god has ever done before. he won’t hide behind pretense nor require blind devotion of his followers. he will understand and be able to empathize. he wholeheartedly believes that he will be different - he will act.
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gale: [..] the gods could aid us if they wished, but instead they cower behind ao. so let us act ourselves.
gale believes that by becoming a god he will kill two birds with one stone: aid mortals and acquire enough power to quash any of his insecurities and enemies in the process. that by ridding himself of every perceived flaw he'll finally feel like he will have enough to offer - maybe, just maybe he'll even be content. his flaws are merely holding him back from becoming the best version of himself, and by ridding himself of everything fallible, he will be whole. maybe this is what all of his suffering has led up to. maybe the orb chose him. maybe the reason he had to endure all the pain, isolation, and excruciating loneliness was so that he could realize that he was meant for something even greater. after all, power feeds ambition. and what is more powerful than a god? his convictions were certainly naive, he possesses enough knowledge to know better. don't get me wrong, part of him definitely wants to spite mystra a lil. but his intentions at that time were mostly pure. a reflection of his self-hatred and feelings of inadequacy.
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player: this is wrong, gale. that power will corrupt you, even if you can seize it.
gale: it won't, i swear to you. it's merely a tool - a means to an end.
once we meet gale at the party in his new godlike form, it is apparent that even with all the power at his fingertips, he has reached no greater knowledge about himself. his insecurities are still as present as before, he merely is less subtle in his compensation - repeatedly highlighting his grandeur and how dull life on faerun is compared to the wonders of elysium. it is also genuinely crushing to see how little he thinks of himself even now.
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gale: i was nothing. a drifting dust mote of a wizard, abandoned by my goddess, my powers lost, my reputation destroyed. and look at me now. i'm their proof.
any perceived dismissal of his Greatness™ is met with immediate disdain.
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gale: a bold decision to treat a divine being with such cold indifference.
nodecontext: aloof, annoyed you weren't impressed with him
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gale: you mortals do love to live dangerously, don't you?
nodecontext: the slightest hint of a threat - you've probably made an enemy here today. or at least, you've lost a friend.
he is still desperate to impress. emphasizing what an honor it is that a new-born god chose to bless their little soiree with his presence. gaze upon all his divine glory! gale has now become the embodiment of everything he criticized about the gods. his original intentions and plans are discarded and long forgotten. he assuages his erstwhile companions by telling them to simply pray to him, in case they should ever require aid. if they're lucky and their ambition pleases him, he might even deliver.
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player: what does the 'god of ambition' offer to his followers?
gale: i 'offer' them nothing. i inspire them to seize their destinies for themselves.
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player: interesting, so you help mortals help themselves?
gale: precisely. though that isn't to say i'm averse to the odd bit of direct encouragement.
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gale: [..] my aims are set a little higher than offering cursory blessings to just any half-decent spellcaster.
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gale: regardless, ethical quandaries are more the remit of my mortal devotees. they do love to talk, and faerun is starting to listen.
aiding "any half-decent spellcaster" is unbefitting of his status. he isn't concerned with questions of ethics and morality either. deeming such matters beneath his divine capabilities.
once gale has ascended and established his domain, what remains of the gale we knew? what of his mortal heart?
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minthara: your ambition is not cruel, but you fear that if you indulge it, you will lose yourself in the mysteries of the weave and unravel the world.
minthara: you are afraid of so many things, and it is that fear that keeps you true to yourself.
gale did lose himself and ultimately became one of his biggest fears. considering that his existence as a being of pure ambition leads him to constantly seek out greater heights, it isn't farfetched to believe that raphael's prediction will indeed come true.
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player[astarion]: ambition? finally, a god i can get behind...
gale: i assure you, this is merely the prelude to a far grander vision. elysium's in for something of a shake-up.
all that remains of gale is a thin veneer of the person he used to be. what he presents is a hollow echo of the old gale. he does retain some of his mannerisms and quirks, but he is definitely a lot colder and more condescending. if his personality already changed that drastically after a duration of only 6 months, what will he inevitability turn into when he has eternity at his disposal?
essentially, you are aiding gale in the eradication of himself. eradicating everything about him that made him into the loveable, charismatic, awkward, kind, buoyant person he was. everything about him that he perceived as defective, flawed, and lesser-than. before, his hubris was merely an expression of his own discontentment and low self-worth, but now he is hubris incarnate. all of his worst qualities have been amplified.
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gale: i am ambition incarnate. as indistinguishable from that most potent sensation as mystra herself is from the weave. and word is spreading.
nodecontext: palpable, almost unsettling excitement from him - hint of megalomania
he put his trust in tav, trusting their judgment and relying on them to nudge him in the right direction. after all, they had plenty of opportunities to show him that they are an ally worth following and confiding in. but in the end, the prospect of what he could be, the things he could give them, the enemies he could yet conquer, won over the desire to simply accept him and help him rebuild a life on solid ground. tav denied him the unconditional love he craves most out of their own selfish desires.
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tara: you were looking out for him. i expected better of you.
as i've already mentioned, gale desires nothing more than to be seen, accepted, loved, and valued. having a partner who wholeheartedly supports and believes in him is enough to make him feel content. most importantly - he just wants to live. to enjoy life with everything it has to offer. his ambition can’t be quenched because he hungers still. believing that only by acquiring more power will he finally be enough and reach said acceptance.
we see in his good ending that his own contentment was even able to influence and (temporarily) sate the orb's ever-present hunger:
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gale: [..] or perhaps the orb's hunger was fuelled by my own, and my contentment influences it in much the same way.
gale: that's how i feel with you - content. it's a rather unfamiliar feeling, i must say. not something gale of waterdeep ever craved.
it is devastating that he doesn't reach the same feeling of fulfillment if he chooses to pursue godhood, and is instead compelled to continuously surpass his own accomplishments. not being granted rest or reprieve.
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gale: i achieved everything we hoped i would, and still i'm not good enough for you?
gale pursuing godhood isn't evidence that he "has been evil all along" or that he "just waited to be unleashed" either. we can't diminish tav's influence in this outcome, they are after all an extension of the player. able to steer every companion toward a path of redemption or to enable them in their worst traits. fandom has already established that by letting astarion ascend you are actively supporting him in becoming the very thing he despises most, putting your own ambitions and idea of what you want him to be above his healing, this is no different.
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tara: the gale i knew wasn't like this. he recognised his mistakes. he was contrite. all he wanted to do was live.
tara: unfortunately, he fell into company that turned his gaze towards foolishness. yes, i mean you.
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player: gale is his own man, tara.
tara: false. he was mine. though now he belongs only to his own pride.
yes, the epilogue cutscene is beautiful and there is something bittersweet and romantic about his love for tav being one of the few emotions that remained a constant throughout the past 6 months. he didn't need to come back for them, but he did cause he loves them still. no matter how warped his definition of love may be now. while it is abundantly clear that tav ranks lower on his priority list than they did before, his commitment remains.
gale fears isolation, hoping to never return to the time when he was hopeless and alone, stuck inside his tower. by heading in this direction he is once again creating a self-fulfilling prophecy.
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tara: [..] if i pretended you hadn't turned tail on every lesson you set out to learn, i'd have no right to call myself your friend.
morena may as well have already resigned herself to her son’s death. elminster partly blames himself. for his lapse in judgment, as well as being the one who plucked him from obscurity in the first place. mourning the kind, bright-eyed boy who cried at the scorched roses in his neighbor's garden. tara won't be here anymore to care and look out for him either. he has lost his oldest and dearest friend, the one who witnessed his downfall from grace and never left his side. who believed him to be the finest mind AND the finest wizard she's ever had the pleasure to know. who was certain that he’d find a way out of any crisis no matter the circumstances. ...and if tav declines his offer to ascend with him? what does he have left?
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gale: yes, i am rather radiant, aren't i?
tara: don't flatter yourself, gale. you've debased yourself in ways i could never have fathomed.
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tara: goodbye gale, i hope the heavens are worth it.
gale’s godhood ending deals with the loss of humanity, the loss of oneself, and everything one holds dear. it is a devastating and bone-chilling narrative. it is a tragedy.
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gale: i hope you don't think less of me. great ambition should not come at the expense of what you already hold dear. i see that now.
if gale could see himself, he would be horrified at the losses he deemed necessary to get here. he would be horrified at what he’s become.
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ssahotchnerr · 6 months
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ALSO ALSO ALSO, Aaron keeping a pair of readers fuzzy socks in his go-bag for reader when a case is rough/they’re in a super cold area/just because 🤭🤭🤭
perfect pair
SCREAMING i'm setting this in the alaska episode it's the first thing my mind went to <33 cw; bau!reader, established relationship, fluff!!!!!
even with the burning fire going, countless chills continuously rushed through your body; you were shaking in place.
upon receiving word the case was in alaska, the customary temperature had been an afterthought. sure, you had packed (some of) your winter trappings; long sleeves, a heavy lined coat, boots. but you hadn't thought to layer, pack a set of gloves or a hat, wool socks rather than your usual cotton ones. rather, the excitement of purely being able to say you're going to alaska, of all places, had taken priority.
even today as you were getting dressed, you managed to talk aaron into lending you one of his favored quarter-zips. 'talk into' was a loose term, he hadn't needed the persuasion; you asked, he immediately accepted - never the one to deny you wearing his clothing, or the extra, provided warmth.
on the bright side, however, you had been hunkered down at the inn with penelope, researching the residents of the small town and not needing to brace the cold. but you might as well been, the heat coming through the air vents wasn't nearly enough, especially when the door frequently opened and the cold air drifted in. the fire was slowly weakening, and just thinking about the cold, made you freezing. the lingering frigidness was numbing your feet within your shoes, your fingers were just as biting - the bitterness was painful.
you were counting down the minutes until the day ended, eager to be warm in the comfort of bed, curled up with aaron 'the furnace' hotchner - the best perk of minimal rooms available and having to double-up. the two of you didn't typically share quarters while on the job, wanting to uphold professionalism, so this was a welcomed treat.
but when aaron had entered (and brought yet another rush of crisp air with him) to regroup with you and penelope, to discuss findings that would contribute to the profile, and hopefully narrow your search down, all he had to do was take one look of you shivering.
aaron walked behind the couch you were seated at, his hand finding your shoulder and giving it a squeeze hello, before heading up the stairs. at the gesture, you were quick to look up and acknowledge him, giving him a soft smile before your attention returned to penelope's screen.
aaron came back down a minute or two later, lightly tossing something onto your lap. it landed softly, but you still jumped a smidge, taking you by surprise.
you were met with your polka-dot fuzzy socks, a pair you hadn't seen in your drawer quite in a while, actually. your eyebrows furrowed in perplexity, grabbing the soft sherpa material and turning the pair over, analyzing as if you've never seen them before.
"you had these?" your eyes shot back up to aaron, arching an eyebrow in an accusatory, but playful, manner. the ends of your lips tugged upwards in a smile, your heart warming.
"given the circumstances, i'm sure you're glad i did." aaron's face matched your cheeky expression, a light smirk on his face. but he dropped the teasing demeanor, his gentleness returning, "i packed them into my go-bag a while ago. i figured they come in handy in one way or another, at some point. for comfort, warmth, when your ice cold feet touch my leg at night." his eyes smiled at you, and you couldn't help but grin.
aaron's immense, loving look was enough to melt everything in you, physically warming you. the sensation started in the middle of your chest, fanning out to the rest of your body, leaving you toasty and almost giddy.
forget the socks, layers, fireplace - all you needed was aaron.
"god that's adorable." penelope chimed in, who had been listening so quietly you'd forgotten she was there, a slight whine present in her voice, "never thought i'd be crying over a pair of socks, but here we are."
she turned back to her laptop, but her fingers paused above the keyboard, as thought came to her. her gaze drifted back towards you and aaron, a tickled glint in her eyes. "wait, i take that back. you two are the most, adorable pair."
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woso-dreamzzz · 13 days
Text
Sorry
Leah Williamson x Reader
Summary: The aftermath of the World Cup
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The celebrations were crazy.
The champagne, the shots, the drunken phone calls to your mother.
It all came to a close as you got back on a plane and flew home to London. You were riding the high all through the flight but you lost it all as soon as you stepped foot on English soil.
Your World Cup medal suddenly felt heavy in your bag as you slipped into the house. It was still quiet out, the moon still high in the sky.
Leah was a lump in the bed, still awake. You could tell even though it was stupid o'clock in the morning and she usually slept like a log.
You knew Leah like the back of your hand and you knew when she was feigning sleep.
You also knew not to push, flipping open your phone and sending a quick text to Codi assuring her that you made it home safely.
A similar one appeared from her a few minutes later and you got to work slipping into your pyjamas.
You hadn't said anything to Leah.
She didn't say anything to you.
You slipped into bed next to her. Usually, you would throw your arm over her waist and pull her closer but just like you knew not to talk, you knew not to touch as well.
Sleep came easier to you than it did to Leah. The late-night flight combined with Codi chattering in your ear the whole time had you exhausted and you fell into a slumber very quickly.
You didn't know what to expect when you padded downstairs the next day.
Leah's spot in the bed was empty and cold. You could hear the coffee machine whirring in the kitchen and stood to go meet your fate.
"Hi, amor," You said, lingering in the doorway.
"Hi." Leah didn't turn around to look at you, staring out the window into the garden.
Her hands trembled around her mug, raising it to her lips and sipping.
The tension was palpable. It was thick and heavy like wading through a bog.
It was silent for a beat and then-
The most awful noise ripped from Leah's mouth and you flinched. She turned to look at you, tears falling from her face as you looked at each other.
"Amor...I'm sor-"
"Don't apologise," Leah choked out," Just...don't apologise. You've nothing to apologise for. You won the World Cup, don't say sorry about that."
"Amor..." You reached for her, wary in case she rejected you but she didn't.
Her head rested on your shoulder as she sobbed and you gently rubbed her back, letting Leah curl up in your strong arms while she cried.
"Don't apologise," She said again," Don't you dare. It was the best moment of your life. Don't let me ruin it."
You apologised anyway. "I'm sorry it had to be against England."
Leah hadn't played in the tournament, not with her acl tear but she had been in the crowd for the final. She had watched as Spain outclassed England at every turn.
She watched the fluidity between you and your teammates, reminded just why Arsenal had headhunted you straight from Barcelona. You would have never realised that you had been playing away from your childhood club for years at this point.
It was annoying to watch. Leah was proud of her country, she loved being the captain but...
"You won the World Cup," She choked out," And I love you and I'm proud of you and happy but..."
"I know," You said," I know, Leah. I get it. It's okay, amor. Let it out. Let it all out."
You stood there with her for nearly fifteen minutes, rocking her back and forth in your kitchen as her coffee mug was left forgotten on the counter.
"I'm sorry," Leah said as she wiped away her tears, stepping back from you with a little awkward laugh," I had a plan last night. You were going to come home and I was going to reward you with awesome sex."
That surprised a laugh out of you.
"Somehow, I think that would have freaked me out more then you just ignoring me."
"Shut up," She said with an eye roll, recapturing her mug," We have great celebratory sex. We do it all the time!"
You laughed again. "I think you're lucky preseason doesn't start up again until next week. I've got a gold medal in my bag that I really want to see you in."
"Just the medal?"
You nodded. "Just the medal."
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rachalixie · 6 months
Text
a/n: you've read you when minho gets hurt but get ready for a fun new concept of minho when you get hurt!!!!
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if you thought that you turned into a mother hen when minho got hurt, the antithesis lives in the way minho would react when you were the one in pain. he’s calm and he teases but he somehow always knows exactly what to do, even before you yourself know what you want.
you weren’t particularly a clumsy person, but everyone has times where their feet refuse to work or they nick themselves in the neck with their hair straightener - or in your case now, when you take the biggest sip of your tea, forgetting that you had just made it and it was a near-boiling temperature. you have to resist the urge to spit it out, and it feels like fire working it’s way down your throat when your muscles finally cooperate enough for you to swallow the burning sip. 
you must make a noise, because minho’s attention - which was previously trained on the way your cat was licking his paw - flips to you so fast you’re surprised you didn’t hear his neck crack. his eyes flicker all over your body, from your head to your fingers and down to your legs like he was looking for blood to be gushing out of you. he must see something in your expression because he melts a bit when he meets your eyes, scooting himself closer to you and letting you lean into his body.
“what happened, mine?” he says, words curled up with fondness. 
“i burnt my tongue,” your say with a wince, the shape of the letters sending pings of pain across your tongue. you glare heatedly at the cup of steaming tea you left on the table, sitting there in it’s false innocence. you stick your tongue out at him like a petulant child, the cold air from the room soothing the ache a little bit.
“let me see,” he cups your face in his hand, pulling you closer to him so he could get a look - you’re sure your tongue is ridiculously red, and the look on your face even more so. he peers down, his eyes crossing a bit and he looks so cute that you want to bite him. he smiles a bit, leaning up to press a kiss to your tongue, a quick thing that catches you off guard. 
an unintelligible sound leaves your mouth, muffled by the way his fingers are still squeezing your cheeks and your tongue is still peeking out of your mouth. 
“did i fix it?” he looks so pleased, like he truly believed that his kiss would heal your physical wounds. you don’t have the heart to tell him that your tongue is still stinging when you put it back into your mouth, but he has healed any distress you were feeling on the inside, so you just nod and snuggle into him, tea forgotten.
it was so silly, such a simple thing, but something about it made your heart want to burst out of your chest. god, you love him, with every fiber in your being. you love him for knowing you, love him for knowing that while coddling is what he needs, a distraction was the cure that would sooth your hurt in any circumstance. 
later, you’d be pouty all day until he caved to your wide shiny eyes and went to buy you ice cream to soothe your tongue. later, he would spoon feed you and babble at you like you’re one of his kittens, later he would flutter kisses all over your face and tell you that you’re never allowed to be hurt when he’s around. 
right now, you’re content to sit in his arms with a burning tongue as long as he’s there.
soft hours
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