thane-emblem
I think of us often, siha
Isa | 26 | they/she | Lots of Fire Emblem (mostly 3 Houses and Tellius) and Mass Effect, plus Magi lately | On Ao3 under Opal_Libra! | please talk to me about Shrios | in this house we love and appreciate Edelgard von Hresvelg
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hey i’m having real normal thoughts.
so you know how it’s commonly accepted that animals feeling stress or fear during their last moments affects the meat’s taste. most people feel that this is a negative change, but i think sicko man freak 9000 enver gortash enjoys a meal more when he can taste fear on his tongue.
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i dont wanna keep working on this congrats on the recent engagement though
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I’m bored and nosy. Please reblog this with the book you’re currently reading.
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PLEASE for the love of the universe read anti-colonial science fiction and fantasy written from marginalized perspectives. Y’all (you know who you are) are killing me. To see people praise books about empire written exclusively by white women and then turn around and say you don’t know who Octavia Butler is or that you haven’t read any NK Jemisin or that Babel was too heavy-handed just kills me! I’m not saying you HAVE to enjoy specific books but there is such an obvious pattern here
Some of y’all love marginalized stories but you don’t give a fuck about marginalized creators and characters, and it shows. Like damn
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Wyll looking absolutely miserable at camp not for any of the existential doomsday reasons but because he got. A lot of monster goo on his head. And since the Horns Incident he hasn't had to take his hair out to scrub and put it back up and he doesn't think he can do it, so he's like "man I don't wanna cut it but c'est la vie" and I ALSO think no less than three party members reach to stop him. Out of the woodworks he has mirrors and wide-tooth combs and soaps and oils etc. He's been ALONE on the road for SEVEN YEARS!! he is FLUSTERED!!
Even if he truly CAN'T reach around the horns, I think Astarion would be best at receiving/understanding instruction on Wyll's specific type of curl care. He would take it so serious. He might even take notes. And if Wyll gets TOO flustered about the attention/kindness/help, Astarion would pick up on it and go in on some story about how he used to wear his curls LONG and ELFY and how he chopped it all off not out of some dramatic or tragic circumstance, but because when he moved to Baldur's Gate it was so fucking humid all the time that he was beginning to look like a Sheep.
And then Wyll would make a comment about his well-coifed head, as he is wont to do. And by the end of this team-building exercise, Wyll is all tidy and comfy and CURLY.
The real gauntlet will be trying to teach someone to do the twists back exactly the way he had them.
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That one romantic meme but make it ANGST
Blanket-less version under the cut if tumblr will allow it
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this is sending me
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baby fever is the most foreign concept to me in the world. when i found out women don’t have to have children if they don’t want to i was like YAYYYY!!! I’M FREEEEE !!! ^_^ i was like 13 and i have never looked back…
#not a woman but same#like listen i DO actually want kids#but the idea that some people are like. Desperate to CARRY the children??????????????#yeah uh.#that type of stuff is why i though i was an alien as a kid
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Little wizard and his beloved Tressym ❤️💕❤️💕
I saw some hate comments on Tara lately and really wanted to draw something nice with her and Gale... she's one of my favourites and I love relationship between those two and I think it's so wholesome and precious 🥺💕💕
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"I never thought I'd say this, but I need your advice."
Any BG3 character of your choice to Minsc, just for fun, haha
(Sentence starter meme)
Ahhhh this was fun. :D I'm not entirely sure this turned out my best work, but I do love Minsc muchly and it was definitely fun to bounce two characters off each other that I don't normally. ^_^
TY for the prompt!
---
"I never thought I would say this. But I would welcome your advice."
Minsc looks up as a lithe, stringy shadow falls across the light from the campfire. The interruption is unexpected but not surprising; he has been deep in a conversation with Boo, and he finds quite often that those around him see fit to interrupt such conversations as if they were not happening. For a time it bothered him, but Boo has reassured him that there is no offense to be taken. Boo will always be there, after all; all others in Minsc’s life ebb and flow with the tides of victory and tragedy.
So he tucks the hamster with practiced ease into his pocket and smiles genially at the githyanki warrior standing outside his tent. “Then it you shall have! What may Minsc of Rashemen do for Lae’zel of Creche K’liir?”
Lae’zel shifts uneasily from foot to foot. Her cat’s-pupil eyes are narrowed as if in wariness, though Minsc cannot fathom why. He has fought many gith in their raids upon his homeland, but he has never - that he can recall - shown threat to Lae’zel here in Baldur’s Gate.
“What troubles you?” he asks, his tone lowering in volume slightly. “If it has a butt that may be kicked, Minsc and Boo shall remove it from your sight!”
“Chk.” The young warrior flinches defensively. “You suggest I cannot fight my own battles?”
“By no means!” Minsc smiles widely. “Minsc has seen too many githyanki blades piercing unwary bellies to believe so! But Minsc and Boo never saw a righteous battle to which we could not add a blow in service. You have only to point the way.”
“It is not battle for which I require you, berserker,” she says, staring with distinct interest at the cobblestone next to his boot.
He tips his head slowly to one side. “For what, then?” he asks agreeably.
There’s a short pause. “You are from Rashemen,” Lae’zel says quietly. “You have traveled far from the place you would call home. You have seen loss as much as you have seen victory. Yet you thrive among strangers and show no fear of failure or of mockery. You are… joyful.”
Minsc nods vigorously. “All of these things are true, yes!”
A muscle works sharply in Lae’zel’s jaw. “I would know by what secret you manage it,” she says gruffly, and drops into a sitting position opposite him in a single motion, her legs crossed. “For I am also far from home. And each day I feel farther still.”
“Ahhh… I can understand this.” Minsc’s smile fades and he nods gravely. “However far Minsc has traveled from Rashemen, Lae’zel has surely traveled farther from the rocks of wildspace.”
“Yes.”
He considers her for a moment thoughtfully. “But what tongue would dare to mock you? Minsc has seen Lae’zel fight. The ferocity of at least ten hamsters. No, twenty!”
In spite of herself, Lae’zel’s lips twitch with a flash of amusement. “This is a compliment, among the Rashemaar?”
“It is a fact only,” Minsc says gravely. “Boo confirms it.”
“Indeed.” She does not fidget, but Minsc can tell by her intense stillness that she would like to, and she still does not quite meet his eyes. “There is much in which I have failed.” She admits it flatly, like a soldier at attention reciting a patrol report. “My former goddess seeks my head. I once thought to ride a red dragon through the Astral, and instead I crawl upon Toril’s face like a broken beast.” A slight pause. “And we seek a monster even among ghaik, the creature of ultimate nightmare, my people’s greatest enemy. We hunt ghaik at the expense of all other endeavors, yet in my first hunt I shamed myself twice over in failure and capture. Meanwhile, the people of this realm cannot comprehend true githyanki majesty; they look upon me and see a brute animal, alien and vicious.”
Her lips draw in a tight line. “To fear such things is shameful. It serves no purpose. Ch’ka m’vakoth sta’leth - ‘where faith goes, fear stands aside.’ But my faith falters, and so I feel it. I know my own weakness, my own strangeness in this place. So I would know your secret, istik, that you stand among strangers, and bear the worm’s curse and the mocking of weaker folk, and laugh.”
Minsc clicks his tongue thoughtfully, and within his pocket Boo gives a loud squeak of dismay. Neither of them knows Lae'zel very well - and indeed this is probably why she speaks with such candor to him - but Boo's endless compassion is roused on the gith's behalf, and Minsc shares it. She is young; she does not yet know how to carry all the conflicting feelings within her, while Minsc is an old hand at the maelstrom.
He thinks for quite a long time in silence before he decides how to answer. Lae’zel waits in patient stillness, like a spring coiled back on itself, unsprung. Her eyes glint in the flickering firelight.
“Minsc has often been told,” Minsc says gravely after a while, “that his mind is as full of holes as the cheese within his pack. But his eyes have no holes and and his ears only two, and they see and hear much. And true it is that at times there is mocking at Minsc’s expense. But Minsc has found it is not all alike.”
He begins to tick off on his fingers. “There is the mocking that is true and right, where Minsc has failed. In these things Minsc mocks himself as well - to have fallen thrall to the worm and seen his mind made not his own. To have seen friends fall while he could not save them. These are fearful matters, and as when Boo encounters a hungry cat on a dark night, there is no shame in feeling all the fur stand up. In these things, Minsc thinks there are matters to be learned within the story of his failure, and so he sifts about for those good bits among the rotten and counts them a blessing.”
He tips his head pensively to one side. “Then there is the mocking of evil tongues. Those who taunt so as to distract Minsc’s boot from their buttocks.” His lips curl in a tight, feral smile. “These bear no thinking of at all, except for the thinking that chooses where my blade might slice them.”
He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and the smile fades again. “Then there is the mocking which is foolish, cruelty without cause. Those who decry Boo as no more than a common hamster, and Minsc as a mad mongrel to be kicked about. This is the sort you mean, I think.” He waits for her to nod before he goes on. “Minsc has traveled many leagues from Rashemen, and in that time he has learned much. And one thing he has learned is that not all those who speak are worthy of the hearing. So Minsc stays among those who would value him, and kicks off those who would not as he would kick dust from his boot.”
“A thing easily said and less easily done,” Lae’zel says bitterly. “In K’liir, one is not afforded such choice. The eyes of judgment are always watching, and they suffer no failure.”
“But we are not in K’liir,” Minsc says brightly. “And so Lae’zel may choose which of her failings are worthy of scorn, and need not suffer the opinions of rude strangers whose tongues would prattle foolishness. Or - if they are not strangers, she will tell Minsc, and Minsc and Boo will see to it the rudeness is well thrashed out of itself.”
She says nothing for a long moment, but he can see the wiry, tight muscle of her shoulders start to relax slowly. “Hardly spoken like a sage,” she murmurs dryly. “And yet well-spoken in its own way.”
She lets out a slow, heavy breath. “In truth it is not any current mockery that troubles me,” she adds in an undertone, “but the fear of it in the future. Of being found wanting, when all is said and done, by those whose opinions mean most. Among the githyanki, the weak are culled out, dishonored, sometimes killed. I would not…”
She trails off and makes a noise of frustration as she struggles to find the words that express what is in her mind. “My people and my goddess are behind me now, and that is a shame I carry, but there are others I would still not wish to fail.”
Minsc nods. “Your people hone themselves to a sharp point, and perhaps their cruelty is worth its cost where they travel among the stars,” he says. “But where we stand upon the ground, there is no call for such culling. If it brings you comfort, you may look upon Jaheira - for she has found Minsc wanting many a time, and has told him so in full voice, but always with friendship, and always remaining by his side.”
Lae’zel lifts her head and looks at him fully for the first time, and chews the inside of her cheek thoughtfully. This, it seems, might be a new concept to her - that her failure could be censured and forgiven in the same breath. “That is some comfort, yes,” she says, with uncharacteristic softness. “I thank you.”
“No thanks is necessary,” Minsc booms cheerfully. There’s another soft squeak from his pocket, and he nods. “Only Boo asks that should you ever travel again into the skies, that you keep your eyes widened in search of another such as he. Surely you, of all our comrades, might have heard tell of other such miniature giant space hamsters, and Boo has sought a mate for many a long year.”
Lae’zel actually laughs softly. “You may tell your hamster I have heard no such tales - but in return for your counsel I shall report any I might find, and we shall consider it an even trade.”
#adore the way you've captured lae'zel's speech habits!!#and her body language#this is so lovely#fanfic#fic rec#bg3#lae'zel#minsc
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[ID: A digitally illustrated page of drawings of Haruka Tenoh from Sailor Moon. In the top left corner is a drawing of Haruka wearing a black shirt, a yellow blazer, and a cross necklace. She is smiling with her eyes closed. In the top middle is a drawing of Haruka smiling and wearing a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a dark blue sleeveless jacket. In the top right corner Haruka is holding a purple teacup and looking off to the left with a look of surprise. She is wearing a short sleeved white button up shirt and a sleeveless denim jacket. In the bottom left corner Haruka is Sailor Uranus and she is smiling confidently. In the bottom right corner Haruka is with Michiru Kaioh, Michiru is smiling at her with an eyebrow raised and Haruka is looking at Michiru with a confused expression, blushing. End description.]
I've been watching so much Sailor Moon and I would do anything for Haruka I love her so fucking much
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if I forgot your favorite subgenre or misclassified a band feel free to argue in the replies 👍
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