#I genuinely cannot stop like can you BLAME me????

[deiastormborn]

Gale of Waterdeep; A much needed look beneath the surface 

Hey all. This is a script for the video I made in defense of Gale. I never had a place to put the text version of it anywhere else, but... if Tumblr isn't a good place for it, then what is?

Warning: Long Read!

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Hi, my name is Stormborn. I’ve been playing Baldur’s Gate for some time, enjoyed it quite a bit. As much as I can appreciate every companion that the game has introduced, Gale of Waterdeep, a charming lil’ wizard, has caught my attention the most. At glance, he is this sarcastic happy-to-go man, always joking around, trying to do the right thing. But, the more you get to know him, the more you slowly uncover his trauma, as much as he, himself, is trying to deny it.

Honestly, I thought that Gale would be liked by many people, I genuinely expected him to be one of the most chosen companions, and one of the most romanced ones. But, to my surprise, I’ve been seeing him getting more hate than I anticipated. Some people call his way of speaking way too annoying and complicated, some people call him clingy and creepy, mostly due to the glitch that would skyrocket his approval of you, probing him to romance you. Genuinely, it is okay to dislike some companion in favor of the other one. But I could not get rid of the feeling that people just despise his guts unjustifiably. 

One of the main reasons, besides the ones I covered earlier, is that people hate his ‘obsession’ with Mystra, the goddess of magic he happened to romance. I saw people complain that he just cannot stop talking about her, even while you romance him, and I can’t help but wonder if people were paying attention to his story at all. And I cannot blame them, as Gale always portrays his romance with Mystra as something so special, so unique, and as something to be proud of. But, let me explain to why you should be able to judge his story for yourself, rather than simply listen to what he is saying.

Gale is a talented wizard, so talented that he got attention from Mystra herself for his talent of channeling the weave. The story says that he is so powerful, that he could potentially destroy a whole village by basically sneezing in its direction. However, we all need to remember that he got attention from Mystra at the very, very young age. If I am not mistaken, the first time Mystra clawed onto him was when he turned 16. Ever since then, Mystra was feeding him all kinds of praise, prompting him to seek power, ensuring him that he can become Mystra’s chosen, and, mind you, *started romancing him ever since*. It is not a secret that Gale was not the first, however, if you really think of it, such revelation can seriously mess with a mind of a teenager. Not only it might boost the self-esteem, but also make him think that he is better than anyone else. And, I assure you, it is exactly what Mystra wanted. By giving him some form of attention, minimum affection, she had Gale on the hook. And Gale, as a boy obsessed with magic, who has been worshiping Mystra before he even met her, didn’t require much effort in getting hooked. But here comes the problem: as much as it is uplifting to get a praise from a literal Goddess of all magic, it is also as equally devastating to get any kind of critique or a cold shoulder.

Mystra was messing with his mind, making him feel like, no matter how well he does, he can always do better, as he has so much potential. With such authority, Gale would believe her. And it would make him always chase something more to impress her, rather than settle and appreciate what he has. It is also a reason to why the whole mess with the Orb began in the first place. People seem to call Gale power hungry, which, as any companion in the game, it is possible for him to go down that route. But they seem to forget one important detail: Gale thought that the Orb was a missing relic of Mystra’s magic, and he wanted to, yet again, impress her by bringing it back. Please remember that Gale was still a young adult, if not a teenager, when this happened. And it would all be resolved if Mystra would not shatter his self-esteem as much as she did. So, he made a mistake, and the Orb became his burden. And yet again, rather than explain this to her ‘chosen one’, she basically banished him, and left him with no answers for many years to come.

Gale isolated himself to keep people around him safe, with nothing but the books and the cat for the company. I think I do not need to mention on how that can play with your mind, too. But, in spite of all, Gale’s blind loyalty and obsession with Mystra kept him wanting for more attention, more answers, so he kept seeking more power, and more ways to get Mystra’s approval. At the day you first meet him, this is the first time he has been amongst people. Yet he still kept his jolly appearance, messing around with Tav, and appreciating everything that surrounds him.

I do not know if this is obvious just yet, but Mystra has basically groomed the kid. If we look at the very definition of grooming, Grooming is when someone builds a relationship, trust and emotional connection with a child or young person so they can manipulate, exploit and abuse them. And it is most prominent when it comes from the place of higher authority. I think I do not need to explain that, in the fantasy setting, there is no higher authority than the God or a Goddess. Yet, for one reason or another, this seems to not be taken serious. And I think I have an explanation as to why.

When you talk to Gale about Mystra, or when you let him talk about her first, he is still full of admiration, obsession, and the unending pride. There is still some bitterness lingering somewhere in him, yet it Is not as powerful as any other feeling he has towards her. I’ve noticed people basically hating him for saying something like ‘Yeah, I banged Mystra, that’s pretty cool, right?’. But think of it this way: wouldn’t Mystra *want* him to think that it’s ‘pretty cool’? And who are we to say that it was the real Mystra he had an intimate moment with? For all we know, she might have conjured an illusion, to satisfy him and feed into his ego. If the romance between them was as real as Gale thinks it was, do you really think Mystra would just abandon him with no answers for a mistake such as this? After all, Gale was young, and had barely any experience. All he had was wizards, such as him, or more powerful than him, and her. If she truly cared about putting him to a right path, rather than using him for her needs, the outcome would be ever so different. 

I would also like to address that people do not think of it as a simple coping mechanism. Even if you look at the society these days, most of the time, when a man comes with a confession of, say, a woman taking advantage of him, it is often met with ‘wow dude, you got lucky’, rather than with a serious concern. Who are we to say that Gale, rather than simply try to reflect and recognize his relationship with Mystra as an illusion, didn’t just decide to get along with it and be proud instead? Even then, when you romance him further, he is slowly realizing that it was not as real as he once thought. In Gale’s own words: ‘there is no love between us. I was not the first, and I certainly won’t be the last’. Gale finally, ever so slowly, starts to understand that he was simply used by Mystra for his talent. Being a deity means that you are only powered by the followers you still have. It is in the god’s interests to keep people interested in them, or they will loose power. Using Gale, knowing he was an extremely skillful wizard, was in Mystra’s interests. She does not give him answers, but keeps him interested in her enough to keep him in her claws, spreading more words of her, attracting more people to follow her godhood. There was no real romance, she was interested in his power more than himself. And you can help him realize that.

But, with such dynamic comes a price, which also becomes more prominent when you play the game further: Gale never feels good enough. With the first chance he can sacrifice himself for a greater good, he takes it. He has no real appreciation of his life, he does not take it as something valuable. He is deeply depressed and traumatized. When a person moves away from the environment that scarred them, it can become extremely overbearing, difficult, and overwhelming. People also seem to act as if it is weird that, with any kind of hurt, Gale’s first reaction is to ‘blow himself up’. It doesn’t take much to know that he won’t do it if it were to mean that someone can get hurt, but he is saying that because, maybe, partially, he *wanted* to die. He has finally found appreciation amongst other people, who are not wizards like him, people who do not know him well, and people who do not want him to constantly be the best version of himself. He falls in love with Tav, because Tav is showing him kindness, and proving to him that he does not have to be someone that he is not to be loved. In that very vulnerable state, any kind of hurt or rejection hits you more. Not to mention that, the only time he ever says it, was after the night he spent with you. After he opened up, shared his fears, more of his past, even said out loud that, in truth, he does not want to die. He let himself be vulnerable, the most vulnerable he has probably been in years, so it is not a question of his ego being hurt: it is a situation where a man, who always kept to himself, has finally let someone in, and got hurt. I am sure one of us, at one point in life, said something like ‘well guess I go die’ as a joke. This is the only way Gale knows how to respond: joking about his pain. He does not mean it, but says it anyway, because it is the first thing that came to his mind. He has been a very reserved companion through the whole time, always seemed to know what to say, and he acted on an emotion after a very emotional night. 

It is also a fact that, even while he is slowly realizing that Mystra used him, he does not mind dying because she asked him to do so. That does not only prove a point that Mystra does not have any real regards to him other than a tool, but also that she was using him for her own sake. With The Absolute getting more followers, her power also weakens. The Absolute is a threat, not only because of the infection and danger to mere humans, but also to her godhood. And who better to deal with it than the man she has so methodically conditioned to do as she wishes? You would think that, a goddess as powerful as Mystra, could try to take care of things on her own. And yet again, the only time Mystra ever gives him any answers, is when she needs him to be used. That is, yet again, a definition of the grooming.

Gale will do anything for a little bit of appreciation, anything to be noticed, and we cannot blame him. This is why you, a player, as a Tav, have a power in you to make him realize that he, as he is now, is valid. It is almost as if Gale forgot that he is such a talented wizard after all the stuff with Mystra. You, as a player, have it in you to remind him. And once you do, Gale slowly separated himself from Mystra as her ex-lover, and only answers to her as his deity. After all, she is a goddess of all magic, it will be hard to reject her entirely.

Victims of grooming or any kind of abuse often can’t let go of the person who harmed them. They will talk about them, they will mention them, they might even try to grasp onto good things, or make it seem like bad things that happened weren’t really all that bad. Combine that with a constant feeling of never being good enough, and not knowing a genuine kindness outside of his very small circle, and you have Gale. A charming, sarcastic, jolly Wizard, who is also as ever troubled. 

Moving on to other topic that people seem to judge Gale for, is that, once a chance arrives, he starts grasping onto Godhood, wishing to become a God himself. It is also in that situation where he starts to say that he would have the power to completely overthrow Mystra. People seem to criticize him for his hunger for power, and also, altogether, call him ungrateful. I would like to add another opinion on that: while Gale is slowly realizing that he was being used, he went through all 5 stages of grief. But here comes the other one, that is mentioned much less: revenge. He wants to show Mystra that she was wrong about him. He wants to prove to her that, after all this time, he *was* good, if not better than her. On top of that, he is still trying to fix his never-ending self-esteem issues. While he is seeking godhood, he still thinks that, him, as he is now, will never be enough, and only by becoming God he can truly become worthy… of anything. If you romance him, he later apologizes to you, but also asks to let him explain to why the Godhood would be good for him, and you, as a couple. Gale wants to give you everything. The entire world. He wants to be the very best version of himself, for you, his lover. He thinks that he can only achieve that by becoming a God. He doesn’t realize that, maybe, without it, he can still be a valuable partner. He even talks to you about it, openly, saying that you deserve better. It is, yet again, in your power to remind him that you do not need him to be anything more than he is now. And, rather than with anger, he answers to you with a surprise. He truly, genuinely, can’t believe that you would take him as he is now. This is how deeply his trauma runs in his mind. And, once he finally believes you, this is where he finally calms down. This is finally when he accepts himself, and lets it all go. He is not repaired, but he is on his path towards healing. All because you, a player, convinced him, and reminded him of his value.

I think Gale’s approach towards things have deeply changed the perception of the players. Because he is in so much denial, people seem to just go along with what he says. He is proud of sleeping with Mystra - so people take it for what it is. Gale might not be your type, or even the most interesting companion to you compared to others, but I truly, genuinely think, that the hate he has received has been a little too much. Every companion has a burden, everyone expresses it differently, on their own pace. Gale has chosen the approach that makes the most sense in his situation. He is just a guy who was thrown into a mess made by the Goddess he worshiped at the young age. He is just someone who is trying to do good. And I hope that a small essay such as this helped and shed some light on his story. 

Men can be groomed, they can be taken advantage of. I think it is our duty to also recognize it, and show a little patience. After all, Gale is not the first example of such abuse. And, sadly, won’t be the last.

Video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HAnZHJtYkcg

[rfaromance]

I love women.

You know who else loves women? Jaehee, who is finally getting the vacation she deserves... while accompanied by her partner in coffee girlfriend, Beatriz!

I cannot thank Pris enough for this STUNNING piece of the girlies!

[wonders-life-adventures]

Everyone believes survivors until their favorite white boy is involved

[philosophicallie]

my vitriolic hate for the parentals only grows btw. everything i overhear is in fact a big fat negative in our relationship

[himalayaan-flowers]

please stop describing ERP as a "gold standard treatment" i am going to cry

[josephandrewstarkey]

drew x reader bur drew cannot get enough of reader he’s kissing and touching her all the time 😩

hi anon, i hope you like this !!

overwhelmed by affection

warnings: none, only fluff

words: 415

drew starkey x reader

The sun had just dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, golden hue over the city. You and Drew had spent the day exploring the charming streets, indulging in ice cream, and laughing at the small, unexpected adventures that came your way. It was supposed to be a simple, relaxing evening, but Drew had other plans.

As you both walked hand-in-hand towards your favorite café, Drew’s gaze lingered on you with a tender intensity. His touch, gentle yet persistent, seemed to be everywhere—his fingers tracing light patterns on your arm, his hand resting against your back, and his lips brushing against your temple.

“You look amazing tonight,” Drew murmured, his breath warm against your ear. The compliment was accompanied by a soft kiss to your cheek, making you smile despite the slight tickle.

“You’re quite the charmer, aren’t you?” you teased, squeezing his hand as you both entered the café. The soft, ambient music inside only added to the romantic atmosphere.

Drew’s eyes sparkled with affection. He pulled you closer, his lips finding yours in a tender, lingering kiss that left you breathless. His hands caressed your face, his thumbs gently brushing your cheeks. “I can’t help it,” he confessed, his voice low and earnest. “I just can’t get enough of you.”

As the evening wore on, Drew’s need to be close to you became more apparent. He leaned in to kiss you repeatedly, his touches growing more frequent and affectionate. Every moment seemed to be an opportunity for him to express just how much he adored you.

You chuckled, feeling both overwhelmed and cherished. “Drew, you’re making it hard for me to focus on anything else. You’ve been kissing me non-stop!”

He grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief and affection. “Can you blame me? You’re irresistible.”

Your heart fluttered at his words. It was clear that Drew’s affection wasn’t just about physical touch; it was a genuine, deep-seated adoration that you could feel in every kiss and every caress.

As the night continued, you found yourself losing track of time, completely absorbed in Drew’s endless affection. It was overwhelming at times, but it was also incredibly sweet and reassuring.

When you finally made your way back to your place, Drew’s hand was still firmly in yours, his kisses still frequent and tender. As you both said goodnight, he pulled you into a final, loving embrace.

“I love you,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. “More than you can imagine.”

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your entire being. “I love you too, Drew. More than anything.”

And with that, you parted ways, your heart full and your mind spinning with the beautiful, overwhelming affection Drew had showered upon you.

[just-trying-to-fangirl-in-peace]

Perfect illusion (Sauron x Celebrimbor’s daughter!reader)

-> in which you have to sit by your father’s side as Sauron coerces him into finishing the Nine, realizing just how blind you have been all along

Warnings: No romance, just angst. You marry Annatar (+ implied smut) when you don’t know he’s Sauron, so there’s all the emotional torment and consent issues that come with that. Uncomfortable touching (not smut) after you find out he’s Sauron. Manipulation, mind control and victim blaming as per canon

You sit in your chair, watching your father work. A familiar thing, which you have done a million times before. Before, however, there had never been a shackle around his wrist, or blood marring his brow. There had never been rubble scattered about the workplace, or the sound of battle coming through the window. Before, there had never been The Dark Lord standing behind you, his hands weighing you down as though the ceiling had collapsed upon you.

That is not to say that they are forceful. No, his touch is soft, as it has always been, his fingers brushing your hair gently, almost absent-mindedly. At times they reach your neck or your cheek, grazing your skin and sending shivers down your spine. You dig your nails painfully into your own hands to keep from trembling. It’s the least, even if the most inconsequential thing, that you can still do—to deny him this small satisfaction.

“Stop that,” Sauron says, his voice deceivingly gentle as he gives your shoulder a warning squeeze. “You’ll only hurt yourself.”

Of course, that only makes you want to clench your fists harder. But you force yourself to open them, mindful of what might happen if you disobey.

“You once took comfort in my touch,” he says. If you knew no better, you’d believe the sorrow in his voice is genuine. “It is only comfort I wish to give you now as well.”

His knuckles brush your cheek, painfully tender and excruciatingly familiar. Though you’ve been trying to keep as still as possible, you cannot help but turn your face away, if only just an inch.

His hand stills mid-air, then returns to your shoulder. He takes a breath, quiet but long and deep.

“I have caused you suffering. That is true,” he admits, patiently. “But I assure you that this too shall pass. Once Middle-Earth is healed, and the people will see what we did here... your feelings will change.”

You can’t help how your breath quickens, chest trembling with anger. It only becomes worse when Sauron puts his fingers to your chin, coaxing you to twist your neck and look up into his piercing eyes. “You must know it pains me,” he says, “treating you like—”

“Like you have treated countless others?” your father intercedes in haste.

Sauron’s attention turns to Celebrimbor then, as your father had no doubt hoped it would. The whole time he’d been working, his eyes kept straying to you, as if to make sure you are still alive and whole. To your relief, Sauron removes his hand from your face. To your dread, he is now moving towards Celebrimbor, displeased with his remark.

“Like Morgoth treated me,” he corrects, hovering over your father.

You are not bound. You could, in theory, try to run. But you are not foolish enough to believe you could escape. Any such attempt would only earn you a shackle of your own, similar to your father’s. Though, you’re starting to believe that the cold bite of metal might just be more bearable than the silent imprisonment of your husband’s touch.

Your husband. The word twists in your stomach, carves holes into your heart. It all came so naturally to you when you spoke the vows and sealed the bond. Now, you can’t imagine how you got here. All you know are the facts of what happened, and even those no longer seem to make sense in your weakened mind.

You know who you used to be, when the world still made sense: daughter of Celebrimbor, the greatest of Elven smiths. You think his talents mixed with your mother’s magic may have resulted in your gift to manipulate materials in particular ways which do not necessarily come naturally. You know the mithril had refused to be coaxed into joining with the other metals without your intervention. You know Halbrand had been the one to suggest that you try it.

You know how easily he had endeared himself to you from the moment you met, and how confusing and sharp the pain had been when he disappeared without a trace. You know how quick you had been to let him into Eregion when he returned, despite Galadriel’s inexplicable request that you refrain from doing so.

You know the transition from Halbrand to Annatar had been unexpected, if not jarring, but in the end the pull you felt towards him was unchanged. You know there were touches, desire... trust.

You no longer know why. Because there never was a reason—not a true one, anyway. Only his deception, his mind games. But at the time, you didn’t know. At the time, it had made perfect sense when, one night, you had found yourself at the dining table, anxious about giving your father the news of what had happened a mere few hours prior.

Annatar was to your side, sitting at the head of the long table, while your father was across from you. He may be the Lord of Eregion, but he had insisted that an emissary of the Valar should take the most important seat. Yet despite your father’s deep admiration for Annatar, you were not sure how he would react.

“As you know,” you began tentatively, “Lord Annatar has been a close and trusted friend to me, these past few weeks. As he has been to you.”

“Indeed,” your father nodded. His unsure smile and knitted brow told you he was at a loss for what you were leading up to. You opened your mouth, but found yourself quite tongue-tied. You glanced at Annatar, who graciously took over.

“However,” he continued, lips forming a gentle, almost bashful smile, “after a time, we found that there were... deeper feelings between us.”

Though he was speaking to Celebrimbor, his gaze sought yours. You met it, heart fluttering as he wrapped your hand in his, resting them on the table in such a way that the new ring on your finger was in your father’s line of sight.

“Annatar has proposed marriage, father,” you finally say, turning to him. “And I have accepted.”

Your father blinked, eyebrows lifting in an expression of wordless surprise. When words failed to leave his mouth, Annatar took it upon himself to break the silence once more.

“My friend, I...” He trailed off, uncharacteristically hesitant in his choice of words. “I am well aware I should have asked for your blessing beforehand. Especially since things have progressed with such unusual haste, but—”

“Oh, nonsense!” your father burst out, as if finally regaining his senses. “Nonsense, my friend, this...” A short laugh bubbled out of him as he turned to you with a face-splitting grin. “Such wonderful news! Oh, my dear,” he took your hand in his, gazing in wonder upon your betrothal ring before he pressed a kiss filled with fatherly love to your knuckles. “You could not have found a better match,” he praised.

“The same is true for myself,” Annatar said, giving you that kind smile of his that never failed to have you return it.

Relief washed over you. All was well.

You’d be lying to say there isn’t a part of you that resents your father for giving you away so eagerly. He could not stop you no matter who you chose to wed, but with anyone else, he’d have at the very least warned you that the engagement had happened much too quickly. He’d have been more cautious of your betrothed, tried to determine whether or not their intentions towards you were true. But Annatar, in your father’s eyes, was of divine nature, and the thought of becoming kin with one of his kind had filled your father with such pride, it overshadowed all else.

You wonder if he is as ashamed of that moment now as you are. And of everything that came after.

You’re not sure if speaking the wedding vows had somehow allowed Sauron better dominion over your mind, or if you were simply too far gone by then. Little by little, more and more over time, you came to depend on your husband. When your father began acting strange and ill-tempered, Annatar alone knew of his ailment, and he alone could help him heal. He alone could provide the comfort you needed as you watched your father lose himself by the day, unaware that the same was happening to you.

He always knew when and what to say to bring you peace. He never seemed to leave your side, whether in the presence of others or alone. And you craved being alone with him more than anything else. He was an expert lover, so attuned to the needs of your flesh, it was as though he could slither beneath your skin and discern for himself which of his touches felt the most exquisite. Being near him was a delight in itself, but intimacy with him was simply addictive.

Warm morning light flooded through your window, and you wondered how you were supposed to ever leave this bed. Lying on your husband’s chest, skin to skin in the afterglow of your love-making, everything else in the world seemed so inconsequential in comparison.

“Do you ever sleep?” you asked, wondering suddenly how it had never crossed your mind before. He was always by your side as you drifted to sleep—most often spent from yet another passionate exchange—and he was there to greet you each time you awoke. Yet he was not of your kind, and an emissary of the Valar seemed to you above such things as sleep.

“It is not in my nature to sleep,” he admitted, fingers tracing gentle lines up and down your spine. “But I rather enjoy laying by your side as you do.”

Your heart soared at the quiet adoration in his voice. And before long, you found yourself aching for him once more. You brushed his neck with your lips, lightly at first, and then with more insistence, making your desire known.

“Again?” he asked, faintly amused.

You lifted your head, the smallest furrow in your brow. “Does it bother you?”

“Not in the least,” he replied. If that wasn’t reassurance enough, his lips caught yours, and he moved so that your body was safely beneath his, and even the thousandth time would not have been enough.

You can still taste his kisses—and they feel like ash. You remember how each time you became one, it felt better, but only now can you see how it made things so much worse. A corner of your mind, growing larger by the day, was always occupied by him. Each time you aided in the making of one of your father’s Ring designs, you did so with thoughts of Annatar. You know now why he wanted it that way—your craving for his touch, your utter devotion to him, seeping into the Rings the Power, one by one. You think you might have known even then. But he was always careful not to push you too far, to bring you back from the brink of suspicion before it ever started to take shape in your mind.

Even when the reality of things was undeniable before your eyes.

Your last night before finding out had been spent in a dreadful haze. Sleep felt more like a waking prison as you dreamt of terrible, yet distant things, hearing screams without seeing where they came from, seeing blood and ashes on streets you felt you should but could not recognize. You were grateful to wake up and see the sunlit sky beyond your window. Its light adorned your husband’s hair beautifully, the familiar sight of him sitting on the edge of your bed bringing you further relief.

“There you are,” he greeted softly, brow creased with a trace of concern. “You gave us quite the scare.”

“What—?” Your attempt to speak ended in a cough, as if you’d been breathing dust instead of air. Annatar left your side in haste, returning but a moment later with a glass of water.

“Here,” he said, putting the glass to your lips. You took it gladly, relishing the water soothing your throat. Once Annatar had helped you sit up and settle against the pillows, you asked, as you had meant to, “What happened?”

There was pity in his gaze. “Don’t you remember, my love?”

You shut your eyes, trying to grasp at figments of blurry images. “I was outside, I think. Mirdania was there. And you. And...”

Annatar shook his head, speaking as softly as if to a frightened child. “Earlier in the day, perhaps. When you collapsed, you were in the forge, with me and Lord Celebrimbor. When you sought to aid your father in merging the metals for his latest attempt at the Nine, your efforts over these past weeks took their toll on you.” He gave you a sympathetic smile, fingers brushing your cheek. “You fell right into my arms.”

“I did?”

His words did evoke images. The memory was there, somewhere. But the more you tried to reach for it, the more your insides churned.

“Be at ease,” Annatar soothed. “You merely slept through the night. I have watched over you all the while, and I shall do so until you are better.”

Better. Yes, you would get better.

But you knew, deep in your bones, that you were not well. The sense of dread within you refused to recede, lingering in the furthest corner of your mind even in the moments where you felt the safest. Something deeply rooted in you wanted it all to be over—the work, the forging, the ailments, your father’s as well as yours. You wished so desperately for things to return to the way they used to be before the Rings, it felt as though a great fist had clenched around your heart and refused to release it. But then again, before the Rings, there hadn’t been Annatar. And your need for him hurt just as terribly.

In the end, everything hurt. Everything.

“Are you in pain?” your husband murmured. You hadn’t realized tears were already sliding down your cheeks.

You broke into sobs.

He slipped beneath the covers and wrapped you in his arms. It became even harder to breathe, and you clung to him all the harder for it, desperate to find that peace that he had offered you time and again.

“Hush, my love,” he cooed, holding you close to his chest as you wept for reasons unknown. “All will be well soon.”

You had fallen into his arms, just like he’d said. Only, you hadn’t been inside the forge, but outside, just as your mind had fruitlessly struggled to remind you. You were there when the siege alarms began to blare and chaos erupted in the streets. When you saw your husband walk amongst it, you had run to him at once. Asking where your father was, wanting to stand united with your kin amidst the unfolding madness.

Darkness had engulfed your vision instead, shrouding your memory as well. He must have carried you back to your chambers himself, crafting an illusion within your mind to match the one in which Celebrimbor was already trapped.

It makes sense now. How desperately you had clung to the very source of your misery. One cannot satisfy thirst by drinking sea water, but you, in your foolishness, had drunk enough to drain the sea.

“You chose it,” he now tells your father, speaking of the suffering he had inflicted, “not I.”

And there’s a part of you that believes him, even as another screams inside you that his words are poison. You cling desperately to the scrap of reason within you which recognizes that his claims are atrocious—that it is Celebrimbor who forced Sauron to torment him, that he is the true author of his own torment. You watch in disbelief, feeling as though you’re falling through the floor, waiting for your father to refute Sauron’s lies as if hearing the truth spoken out loud will save you from shattering to pieces at the bottom of the abyss.

And you can tell he wants to. There is defiance in Celebrimbor’s eyes as he glances to you, the fire of his will still burning beneath the burden of his torment. But, slowly and surely, he tames it. Averts his gaze in shame.

“Very well,” your father says. “Give me the blame. Punish me as you see fit. You have already taken my city. But I beg you,” his voice trembles, tears gathering in his eyes, “let my daughter leave.”

A smirk tugs at Sauron’s lips. “Your daughter...” He returns to your side, gathering your stiff hand in his and thumbing your wedding ring. “...is my wife, Celebrimbor. It is only natural that she should remain at my side.”

You and Celebrimbor exchange a despairing glance. Your father, determined to plea for your freedom—you, fearing the consequences he might bring upon himself.

“Please—”

“Father, don’t—”

“No!” he cries out. “I all but pushed you into his arms.” Tears slip from his regret-filled eyes. “That is my fault.”

Sauron takes a seat next to you, his brow furrowed as if he couldn’t possibly grasp the reason for such grievances.

“She has given herself to me freely,” he says, your hand still trapped in his as he wraps an arm around your shoulders. “Have you not?”

You glare daggers at him.

“How could I have chosen you freely, when I never knew who you were?” you hiss. It does nothing to deter him.

“Why do you lie to yourself? You knew.” You shake your head. He nods his, insisting, “Yes. Deep within your heart, you knew.”

“Don’t say such things to her,” Celebrimbor pleads, “I beg you—”

“Such things as the truth, Celebrimbor?” Sauron asks roughly, irritated by the interruption. “Tell him, my dear wife,” he challenges, “that you never once suspected I was more than what I claimed to be. That you never felt the caress of darkness within my touch.”

You cannot look at him, or at your father. You cannot speak those words, however desperately you wish you could.

“Tell him,” Sauron insists cruelly, squeezing your hand to the point of near pain.

“I did,” you murmur miserably. Sauron loosens his threatening grip on your hand, pleased.

“Yet even as you cried yourself to sleep in fear of it,” he goes on, “it was within my arms that you took comfort. Because, in truth, you were not afraid of who I was—you were afraid of how little it mattered to you.” A last spark of defiance drives you to make the mistake of meeting his gaze, and his sickly sympathetic smile makes you shudder within his hold. “He needed to create,” he reasons. “You needed to be desired. And I needed you both.”

His arm is no longer around you, but the relief is meager and short-lived as he then cups your cheek, thumb catching the tears that have begun to fall from your eyes. He insists to hold his hand there as you flinch, screwing your eyes shut. A small sigh leaves him.

“Have I not treated you well?” he asks. “Was I not kind to you when you most needed it? A caring husband, a most... generous lover?”

“Hold your wicked tongue!” you all but growl, your head jerking with enough force that he retracts his hand. Your eyes fly to Celebrimbor, and see that he has shut his in great pain. Shame crawls under your skin. Sauron smiles in a mockery of bashfulness.

“Forgive me for speaking of such matters before your father, but it is only the truth. You must admit that. And it need not change.”

His hand returns to your cheek then, pressed more firmly to it, and you only now realize it’s the one he cut. You feel a warm wetness on your skin, and know that once he removes it, his blood, black as the pitch, would be smeared there, marking you even further as his.

“The Rings are nearly finished,” you say through gritted teeth. “You never truly desired me. What more use could you have of me?”

“Who says I never desired you?” he whispers, almost as if wounded. “I would not have made you my wife, if it hadn’t been my wish to make you my Queen as well.”

His voice is so alluring, so saccharine and familiar to your ears, it takes everything in you to remind yourself that every word is a lie. And if you grasp at reason, you can tell why he speaks them. Because of your involvement in making the Rings, you would always have some measure of influence over them, so it serves him well to have you under his control. But not only that. He would relish knowing he has subdued you to his will. That he not only ensnared the mind of the greatest of Elven smiths, but also claimed his daughter as his prize.

A storm brews in Sauron’s eyes as he senses your persisting reluctance. His fingers grip your chin, pulling you close so that his breath falls on your cheek as he speaks.

“You will say yes to me once more.”

You hate how determined he is to make it so. You hate how helpless you are to do anything other than glare back at him.

But what you hate the most is that you are not certain he is wrong.

[myfandomrealitea]

By the way, you're certainly not obligated to do things for people or return effort, but if you frequently refuse to do so you cannot blame other people for your social relationships crumbling away or for the opinion they form about you.

I see so many posts about how; "you're not owed my time!! If I want to ignore you for weeks I can!! You just have to accept it and be ready to accept me whenever I give enough fucks to speak to you again!!"

And while its absolutely true that, yeah, technically, not even your friends are owed your time. And plenty of people need respite from social engagement, if you're someone who frequently ignores your friends, cancels on them, blows them off or just generally doesn't reciprocate the effort they're putting in....

Sooner or later they're not going stop that effort. They're going to think of you as a selfish or ignorant person who isn't suitable for friendship.

My friends are understanding of the fact that sometimes I'll go a few days or a week without replying. Everyone has a life, everyone gets busy, everyone gets overwhelmed. But I always make a point of reaching back out to them the moment I have the time or energy to.

I thank them for being patient. I ask how they are. If I've really got enough time and energy I make plans to meet up or call them. I put effort into actually maintaining the friendship, valuing them as my friend, and making sure the relationship is even.

The amount of vitriol I see aimed at friends or family who have genuinely and in good faith expressed that people aren't putting in effort or maintaining an equal relationship is fucking astounding.

"I don't have many friends. Everyone is so fucking selfish these days, always expecting people to be available at the drop of a hat or answer every single text."

Are they though, Karen? Or are you just acting like a child with its toys, expecting people's lives to be put on pause until you're ready for them?

[partycatty]

older!johnny cage > overheard

you're caught in the act of swooning over your boss

notes: i'm not even fuckin playing i just woke up from my nap in a cold sweat with this idea haunting my mind so here i am. i truly honestly genuinely cannot stop thinking about dilf johnny and his thick fucking arms and how much i want him to [REDACTED]

[ masterlist ]

• during your break from training, you managed to squeeze in a meal break with one of your closest friends. it was just the two of you, laughing and for once breaking the stoicism implanted into your demeanors from training ruthlessly.

• "jesus, commander cage really kicked our asses today," your friend whined, rolling her shoulder. "i get we're fighting against demons and elementals, but did we really need to run twenty miles?"

• "it wasn't all bad," you shrug, poking at your food. "we've done worse, i feel."

• "oh hush, you had the time of your life," your friend groaned, lightly pushing into your shoulder with a smirk. "you and johnny cage got to run beside each other in formation." your friend was sure to say his name in an announcer voice, wiggling her fingers as she pretended to read a large sign.

• you huff, planting a fist on the table as you try to conceal your embarrassment with faux anger. "oh my god shut up..."

• your mind wanders to earlier in the day. johnny decided to wear only a tank top instead of a long sleeve with a vest, giving you a delicious view of his arms as they pumped during the run. while you two didn't talk, he shared panting encouragements by your side, telling you you were doing so good and how much further you had left. it made running feel almost impossible as each word and grunt knocked the wind from you.

• "jesus, look at you," your friend laughs at your dreamy expression as you replay the memory. "you're down bad, girl, anyone and their mother could tell."

• "is it that obvious?" you murmur, burying your face with your hands. "i'm doomed."

• "nah, you might have a shot," she insists, pulling your hands from your face. "he might be into younger women, most celebrities are."

• "but he's not just a celebrity, he's our superior," you whine, rolling your head back. "i just watch his movies and pretend i'm the love interest."

• "oh, it's bad bad," she laughs, looking past you for a moment. her smile falters.

• "can you blame me? ugh," you rake a hand through your hair. "he's all muscle, he could just pick me up and snap me like a twig! normally i'd settle for height alone but holy fuck he's built like a brick fucking wall!"

• your friend falls silent.

• "and don't even get me started on his age," you point an accusatory finger. "he is 50 something and so fucking fine i can't even bring myself to focus on literally anything ever. i watched some of his old movies, and he literally aged like the finest fucking wine any vineyard has ever even dreamed of making! thank god his daughter is the commander because if he stood around and told me what to do i'd behave so much like a dog it would embarrass me. he is the god damn devil in disguise and i sure a shit don't have a single chance of him even looking in my direction with any more than a smile because at the end of the day i'm just a sad little recruit crushing on a guy who probably has a massive di—"

• "i'm fifty-nine," you hear a low, horrifyingly familiar voice in your ear. you can't even bring yourself to turn around, smile dropping and eyes widening. the only thing you can bring yourself to do is stare across the table at your friend, who's as equally still. maybe if you were still enough, he wouldn't see you. like a dinosaur.

• "lieutenant," you breathe out after a long silence, drunk on the smell of his cologne. "we were just... t-talking about you."

• "oh yeah?" his voice is rumbly, a teasing inflection making you want to burst out in tears. you had a faint suspicion he was behind you the entire time, something he confirmed before you could muster the strength to speak. "sounded more like it was just you."

• "well," you wonder if you can outrun him, stammering as you try to talk yourself out of this. "you know..."

• you finally get the courage to spin in your chair, turning around to face him. he's towering over your sitting form, a shit-eating smirk on his lips.

• "i'm sorry, sir, i'll... i'll do extra push-ups, i'll go overtime on training, scrub the toilets, anything to—"

• he holds a hand up, waving it away as he shakes his head slowly.

• "don't stress it," he stands up straight, crossing his arms. oh my god his arms. "but, uh... just a word, in my office, when you have the chance." you almost miss the wink he sends at you, but you caught it just as he spun on his heel and walked out, a cocky sway to his hips.

• you spin back around, slack jawed at your friend, who's red from holding in her scream of excitement.

• "he's totally gonna bang you on his desk," she finally spits out, covering her mouth immediately after. you just lower your head, hitting it against the table in defeat.

• who knows what he's gonna do to you in his office?

[lovefrombegonia]

Just random rambling on Shen Jiu:

Shen Jiu is so great. Like he despises men but also finds the company of women embarrassing. He hates when someone has authority on him but also knowingly, intentionally makes bad, horrible, villainous decisions. His introduction was him about to smash a kid's brain out because the kid was "taking the best begging spot". He has so much ego, so much superiority complex but also dying with deep inferiority complex. What is...WTF is wrong with him?? Like, babygirl, sit down? Have a tanghulu? Drink some relaxing tea?? Stop abusing the child, and maybe get some therapy?? Stop projecting on your female disciple, you fucking weirdo?? Stop abusing your soulmate??? But no. HE KNOWS ALL OF THE WRONG HE IS DOING. He knows he is a bitch ass loser. And he will still pretend to be the master of the universe. He is like "I can tell myself I am doing wrong but YOU CAN'T DO THAT." Shen Jiu is a clown. A clown. Who won't leave my mind. He is just there, you know. Just there at the corner of my mind, glaring at me with his arrogant stare. A clown, an idiot, an insufferable gremlin. He is a ghoul with a pretty face but his prettiness is lost in the ugly scowl.

I saw this post on twt talking about SJ is NOT a misogynist. And I agree. He is not a misogynist, by definition. He doesn't hate women. He just doesn't think women are a threat to him, which gives him some sense of safety. But he also thinks women are weak. So, in that way, you could say he is one. But I don't think so, personally. He is a misandrist tho. He hates all men. He even hates himself LMAO

This is why his loyalty towards Yue Qingyuan is so confusing. Him saving Liu Qingge is confusing. He spared the women in the house when killing them all, yes, including qiu haitang, when he would have saved himself a lot of trouble, if he was able to do that. Like, what happened, babes? Did your long dead conscience wake up for a second? His long dead conscience also seems to wake up at the cost of his IQ because the dude will not even clear up any misunderstandings. I remember a great line in ATLA series said by Iroh. I am paraphrasing: pride is not an absence of shame/inferiority but source of it. This applies SO WELL to this infuriating man. This fucking joker sitting at the corner of my mind. He has so much ego. So much of "ooff they hate me anyways, why bother even clearing up" and "they are beneath me, why should I clear up". He really manifested his own fall from grace. He even realised he is manifesting all that but he won't clear it up. Why didn't he even clear up that Qiu House was abusing him when QHT blamed him? Was he too ashamed to tell others that he was so "weak", he was beaten by those men? I really find him annoying...

And he genuinely didn't think that yqy won't just give up his life for him...huh... Umm? He protected you when he genuinely thought you murdered your martial brother. How did that not click?? You thought he did that coz you thought that he thought this will stain his "honor" if this thing comes out in the open, but it was ALREADY OUT IN THE OPEN!!!

Actually, ykw I am stopping rn coz this clown is pissing me off. See, this is why, I don't like thinking too much about him coz he just sucks me in. Just SUCKS ME IN LIKE A BLACKHOLE. He is a blackhole. He is terrifying, fascinating, he cannot be defined in simple terms but also simply calling him a scum makes sense. If Shen Jiu could become a heavenly demon, he would manifest as the god of rot and vengeance. He rots everything he touches and vengeance defines his rise in and fall from power.

[secretress]

A message you may need to hear.

★ Masterlist.

Manifestation is easy. 444.

Manifesting is so easy. It really is. I have seen others struggle tremendously with manifesting what they have wanted for so long. Others will follow others in hopes they can get what they want, forgetting that what works for someone else may not work for you. Some people blame things (themselves or others) for not being able to manifest. People join communities in hopes it will help. People believe you have to heal your shadow self, your trauma, and so forth to manifest. But that’s not necessary.

You do not need to heal to manifest. You do not have to do anything to manifest. It may seem impossible right now, but it is simple. Why make things a challenge for you? Why go through all of these steps and methods? Because your dreams seem impossible? Did people tell you it was impossible? Did your fears and doubts say so? Did society push you to believe it’s impossible? Truly.

Manifesting happens all the time. Everything we do, we manifest. If you work hard for something, like studying for an exam, you will manifest a good grade through your hard work. Manifesting has a bad reputation, and people have become triggered easily because of it. But you must remember that manifest is just a word. It’s just there. So are you. You are just there.

What I mean is that you can manifest anything by doing the things that work for you. What has worked for you before? For me. I will not do anything but stay consistent with my subliminals. That’s it. I don’t do affirmations throughout the day, I don’t change my thoughts, I don’t use methods or techniques. Why should I if it doesn’t work for me? So instead of engrossing yourself with what works FOR OTHERS. Focus on what works best for you.

If you don’t know what works best for you, then take a break from the concept of manifestation and breathe. Learn to adapt to the world as it is and before you found manifestation. And then welcome life as it is.

We cannot always control everything. Always controlling everything will make you go mad. Do you want to become the joker? Go mad because he lost his family, or perhaps that seems ideal? I think a lot of people who are not secure with themselves and their ideals will lose themselves in the process of this. And that is the problem.

—

When people say, “I don’t have to do anything, I can manifest anything.” Or, “I manifest easily without lifting a finger.” In a way, it’s the truth. You do not have to do anything to manifest what you want. You can even say what you want and it will happen.

For example, I can say, “I wish to be happier.” And now it will happen. Why? Because it is bound to happen. Saying our wishes shows vulnerability, and showing vulnerability to yourself makes it easier to get what we desire. It’s not about quantum physics, the universe, any religion and their higher beings, etc., it’s about you. Manifesting is just you. It really is. You can manifest anything because you are always manifesting. Again. We always manifest without doing anything.

I say this because you need to hear it. You have the power to manifest anything you want, BUT you have to do it the way that works BEST for you. When you stop stressing yourself out about this, ask yourself what works best for you or has in the past.

I know that sometimes our curiosity can ruin us and make us spiral into the world of “what manifestation really is,” but you have to remind yourself that this is not curiosity. It is you sabotaging yourself. If you know you can manifest easily, why learn how to “actually” do it? It doesn’t make sense.

Genuine question: what makes it fun to sabotage yourself? When you get stuck in a community, you assume they are there to help, but then fail to realize they are making you obsessive about something so easy. It’s so easy. It’s just easy. Easy. Easy. Easy. That is what they keep saying, so why is it so hard for you?

Because. You. Are. Not. Doing. It. Your. Way.

The best way to manifest is.. doing. It. Your. Way. That’s it.

Channeled song.

Bohemian Rhapsody (Song by Queen)

[daydreamingyuta]

https://www.tumblr.com/daydreamingyuta/748740564117323776

THIS IS SAUR CUTE WHAT

🥹❤️

It’s insane how well you capture mark’s personality through your writings that it feels so real yk?😵‍💫

If it’s possible could you write another version of this butttt make it spidey!mark where the reader tries on his costume?? (don’t blame me pls. 200 and his rem acc is making me feel things HAHA)

Spidey Suit | Mark Lee

summary: fluff, drabble, asking spiderman!mark if you can try on his spidey suit <3 wc: 375 a/n: omg thank youuuu!! that's literally such a sweet compliment omg! thank you for reading and liking my mark drabble 🫶 also I loved writing this and I'm sorry that it took so long but I hope you enjoy it! <3 <3

“Can I… try it on?” You ask, unsure of how he’s gonna respond. Mark isn’t the type to not want you wearing his clothes, actually most of the time he’s the one suggesting it, but you’ve never tried to wear his spidey suit before. 

You watch as his face turns into that smile of his that you love so much, revealing his cute cheekbones. “You wanna wear my suit?” You nod your head, hopeful for him to say yes and before you know it, he’s rummaging through one of his draws and pulls it out. “Ok, but I get to take pictures of you in it.”

🕸️🕷️🕸️🕷️

You thought that it would be super hard to squeeze into, but it was surprisingly easy. It was tight, without feeling tight at all. Actually, it felt like the most comfortable thing you’ve literally ever worn before. 

“It’s nice right?” You hear Mark ask. You had asked him to turn around while you got changed but he must have noticed that you managed to get it on when you stopped moving around so much. (spidey senses). 

“I cannot believe you made this yourself, It’s genuinely incredible.” You say, checking yourself out in the mirror. You can’t see him but you know he’s blushing by your comment. “Can I um turn around now?”

“Oh, yeah.” You say, now facing him. 

You watch as his eyes focus on you and his head moves back slightly, something he always does when he’s surprised. “Wait, you actually look so cute.”

“What do you mean actually? You weren't expecting me to look good in it?” You say playfully, crossing your arms.

“No, no '' he says, his voice cracking. “I just meant like, when I wear it it’s super intimidating and cool looking. But somehow you just look adorable.” He says, walking towards you. 

You give him the sternest look you could muster. “I’m intimidating too.” 

“Right right.” He says as he cups your cheeks in his hand, pulling you in to kiss you, “I definitely wouldn’t want you as my enemy.”

“Exactly.” You kiss him back until Mark starts to laugh. “What?”

“Nothing, it just feels funny. Like I’m kissing myself.” You let out a laugh too because of course he would say that.

[puppiekit]

One thing about the warriors Mapleshade hate train era of the fandom that still pisses me off actually is how people swore up and down that Mapleshade MUST be an unreliable narrator and so therefore nothing she expirienced or thought could be in any way accurate.

When in reality it was just the fandom making up bullshit headcanons out of thin air and portraying it as canon just so they can excuse Thunderclans blatant hatred/xenophobia, assault of a mother, and banishment of literal babies. Nobody wants to admit the fact that Mapleshade was severely screwed over and had every right to be pissed the hell off! (and don't get me wrong murder is inexcusable but like.... you guys baby so many other murderers in this series please stop playing)

Because outright saying "Mapleshade lying is worthy of assault and/or death" will reasonably earn you a WTF response, so people exaggerate her aggressors victimhood by making up bullshit about Mapleshade being a "baby trapper" or an "overtly possessive toxic girlfriend", and/or crafting some make-believe soppy sad backstory for Frecklewish. All to make Maples decision to lie seem worse than it in actuality was, or actively malicious in nature, and deserving of the recieved "punishment" (assault and death of her children).

Like... I cannot state enough how much it pisses me off when people discredit *the literal POV expiriences of the book protagonist* just to make up random crap about her clanmates and craft some elaborate tale where Maple is the worst and has sucked all along. When we know literally nothing about them, and especially Frecklewish, except that she made a stupid assumption, is willing to beat a mother in front of their kids, and quiet frankly didn't actually give a shit about those kids the moment she realized they weren't blood related. LOL

Like completley out of nowhere people decided Mapleshade lying was the worst crime ever commited in the history of the series... UNLESS you're literally any other character in the series to do it like Bluestar Leafpool Squirrelflight Yellowfang etc etc etc.... When they get flack for lying it's unfair and they were doing what they thought was right! But also it's completely unacceptable for Mapleshade to lie about her children's half-clan heritage in an environment where her peers are violently hateful and xenophobic. Because it hurt their feelings ... LOL

And don't even get me started on the fact that, quiet frankly, Frecklewish and Oakstar were being unreasonable from the very beginning by being hateful and blaming Riverclan for their loved ones death. They literally sent their son/brother INTO BATTLE and are now mad that he DIED? What the hell do they think happens when you send people out to beat eachother up (often to the death)??

Battle and death is such a normal and accepted part of clan culture it genuinely baffles me people dont realize that, as understandable as their grief, their anger/hatred is pretty crazy, even if Appledusk *had* killed Birchface. They were wrong to assume Birchface was the father and they were wrong to project their hatred on Mapleshade and her kits. Not a single action made by them was reasonable or excusable. You don't put that kind of pressure on a single mother who *explicitly avoided stating her kits father* and get all mad when it isn't who you assumed it to be. Like it's next level stupidity

[aurae-rori]

Okay. So no pressure if you don't want to, but can you elaborate more on your headcannoning[?] Ratio having a savior complex? Your character analysis are really good so I was just wondering how you see this.

no worries, it's absolutely no pressure - i love talking about this! and thank you so much, i'm so glad that you enjoy my stuff, so let's get right into it.

a saviour complex is defined as "an attitude and demeanour in which a person believes they are responsible for assisting other people." this doesn't mean that people with saviour complexes are necessarily stuck up and believe that they are noble for doing what they do, it just means that they feel like they must help other people. it can stem from feelings like "if i can't, nobody can!" or, alternatively, "i have no worth if i don't help people, this is what i'm meant to do." in helping other people at the expense of the self, it can help the person with the complex feel valued, wanted, loved, and as if they have a purpose.

as someone who does have a saviour complex (and is working on it in therapy, so i'm doing fine - it's much better than it used to be), i can say in past experiences, this has led me to become a sort of mentor figure to other people in my life. although i will never regret becoming an older sibling figure for the people i care about, the reason why i became a "teacher" was rooted in both my own desire to help other people, and also in my need to be validated.

so basically, it all comes down to this - if i don't help other people, i have no value, so therefore, i am useless. this can quickly spiral into suicidal tendencies and should be stopped as soon as possible, but that's a different topic.

the reason why i hc ratio with a saviour complex is because i see a lot of my own behaviours in him. he became an educator to push people to their limits but also because he cares about humanity. being a teacher means bearing responsibility - the same responsibility that someone with a saviour complex will put on themselves. a person with a saviour complex will always place the needs of others over themselves, (choosing humanity over the gaze of an aeon). he seems to also be a perfectionist and berates himself for being unable to meet a standard (which can also reflect into relationships, where a person with a saviour complex will beat themselves up for being unable to help the person they were attempting to 'save'.)

upon failure of being able to help someone or solve their problems, i find that usually what i've seen is that people fall into spirals of depression and self-deprecation, blaming themselves for the issues of others. we don't know how dr ratio canonically feels about failing about 97% of his classes even though he calls them idiots, but he seems to genuinely care about his students and their education. so i like to believe that on some level, just like i used to, he blames himself when people cannot progress. that's not canon though. just a hc.

anyway, taking on massive amounts of responsibility (trying to cure the entire universe of idiocy) and attempting to further help other people through any means possible, even to the point of neglecting yourself (and although ratio says that a relaxation-working life must be balanced, i used to be a hypocrite about that so he can be a hypocrite about it too) and pushing yourself far past what you must.

anyway, i hope this clears up why i hc him with a saviour complex (from someone that unfortunately has one).

i also ask that people don't say 'are you okay?' if you read this post, because i am! you are absolutely allowed to ask me about my experience as a person who has a saviour complex (as long as you're not rude about it) and i will definitely drop more specific hcs about saviour complex ratio if you want to see more.

hope this was worded okay! :)

[tragicdruid]

Lost Love (3)

Pairings: Wanderer x Reader

Contains: Fluff, implied progression of platonic(?) relationship, post-Archon quest

Word Count: 1000+

Summary: The weather takes a turn for the worst while you're on a walk with Wanderer. This is the final part! :)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

------x------

Wanderer had accompanied you during your evening walk with surprisingly little convincing. What's more surprising was that he was generally quite civil, seeming to preoccupy himself with the surrounding scenery -- much like yourself. It was rather nice if you were being honest, just spending time with him.

You've only known him for a few weeks now and a friendship blossomed between the two of you ever since your first meeting. His snarky yet aloof attitude meshed well with your own patient and playful one. It oddly felt as if you were meant to meet. Sometimes there was a deep sense of deja vu whenever he'd bestow you with genuine compassion; such as helping you carry your groceries or ensuring you arrived at your destination safely. Much like now.

The walk was quiet for the most part, but it was a peaceful sort of silence. It wasn't unusual for Wanderer to coincidentally appear when you took these late night strolls and you were glad for his company.

"It's going to rain. Better hurry home unless you want to look like a wet dog," Wanderer finally remarks, the corner of his lip perking up as he imagined the sorry sight of you drenched.

With a hum, you look up at the cloudy sky, cocking your head curiously. "Really? It hasn't rained all week," you remark unconcerned.

He rolls his eyes at your disbelief of his words and adjusts his path, now walking in the direction of your home. "Suit yourself. Don't blame me when you ruin that pretty hair of yours."

This time it's your turn to roll your eyes as you catch up with him quickly before matching his stride. "The weather's been so nice. I doubt it'll rain."

As if on cue, there's a boom of thunder, followed by a sudden downpour. You can only stand there dumbstruck as you're soaked in an instant, blinking in disbelief at Wanderer. He doesn't need to say a word. His arrogant smirk says it all as he turns his head in your direction, left completely dry by his hat.

"Don't say a word," you sigh in exasperation, shuffling up to his side to hide under his hat. You press into his side a bit and he makes an 'ugh' sound as your damp clothes rubs up against him.

"Told you so."

He chuckles at your expense, but allows you to stay in his space for the time being, tilting his head towards you just enough to keep you dry.

It's not long until you arrive home. With a quickness, you leave his side and unlock the door to let yourself in. Safe from the rain at last. Turning around, you can't help but look appreciative. "It's a good thing you wear such a big hat. Thank you for walking me home."

Wanderer simply shrugs nonchalantly, acting cool like he always does. "It was barely an inconvenience. Don't mention it."

Just as he turns to leave, you can't help but make a suggestion, a pleasant smile on your lips.

"You should stay. At least until the rain stops."

He hums in contemplation, arms crossing as rain drops continue to cascade down the rim of his hat. Hesitation was not something he familiarized himself with, yet he simply cannot help but do so -- especially when you stare at him so expectantly. The simplest answer would be to reject your offer and return home, but he doesn't want that. Not at all.

"Hah, trying to get me alone with you? Fat chance," Wanderer remarks sarcastically with an amused smirk. He feels a sort of thrill run down his spine when he catches a playful twinkle in your eye.

"Oh no, you've foiled my plans..." You sigh, shoulders slumping as you over-exaggerate your disappointment. That doesn't stop a huff of a laugh to escape your lips.

He rolls his eyes, unable to stop his own smirk from growing. "You'll have to try harder than that. I'm not easy."

This time, you laugh freely, the corner of your eyes crinkling as you grin widely at his retort. It makes his chest flutter in a way that makes him nearly believe he has a heart.

Placing your hands on your hips, your laughter soon dies down as your lips purse in thought, eyes darting up and down his form. "I always have a plan B you know..." You begin slyly as you take a step towards him, standing in the doorway just outside of the rain's reach.

Wanderer continues to act aloof, simply raising a brow at your tone. "Considering how well plan A went, I doubt this will be any diff..."

His words are cut short as you lean in, ducking under his hat and continuing forward until your breath tickles his cheek. Your lips nearly brush against his ear as you murmur softly,

"Stay with me."

Wanderer is as still as a statue, his cool composure nearly breaking. He swallows down the tension he feels growing in his throat as he turns his head just slightly towards you, eyes searching for yours.

Your gaze meets for but a moment before you're pulling back, a sheepish smile on your lips. "Too much?" You ask lightheartedly, chuckling a bit to hide your own nervousness from the silence that follows.

Before you can fully back away, your movements are halted as Wanderer takes you by the chin, holding you in place with two slender fingers.

"Not enough, I'd say," he murmurs, staring into your eyes as if trying to reach into your soul to understand your motives.

Another prolonged silence follows as you stare at one another, the pouring rain serving as a soft backdrop. His indigo orbs dart down to your lips for only a second before he releases you, letting you step back under the doorway. He tips his hat downward a bit, obscuring his expression before raising his head once more.

"I suppose I can stay. Just don't expect me to help you dry off."

A wide smile makes it's way to your lips and you nod once as you step aside to welcome him in. "I wouldn't dream of wasting your time," you tease, cheeks hot from that oddly intimate moment.

He scoffs as he enters your home, removing his hat and holding it to the side to let the rain trickle off of it. "I know that much."

As Wanderer's gaze follows you, he feels a sense of contentment he hasn't felt in a long time. One that could only be possible by being in your presence.

[celaenaeiln]

What is your opinion on Babdick/dickbabs? I personally hate it because it doesn’t look like a healthy relationship especially when Barbara doesn’t seem to love dick all that much

It's not and she doesn't and I don't like them together at all.

Oracle Barbara was mostly fine but I CANNOT STAND Batgirl Barbara and Dick.

Take this comic for instance, Dick and Barbara have broken up (as they always do) and Dick is thinking about it and being sad about their relationship. He calls Barbara to say sorry as he always does

DC's Crimes of Passion

But Barbara's feelings on the breakup?

DC's Crimes of Passion

When Barbara says she's scared of needing someone, I can totally understand that. It's a immense feeling and perfectly acceptable reason but-

"I don't know what to call us. I don't even really know what I want us to be. Or what we're supposed to be."

Really?

This isn't the sound of a girl in love, this is the sound of a woman stringing along a man.

She doesn't want to be together with Dick but she's doesn't want to be away from him. She loves him but can't stand the idea of loving him.

And truthfully? I get this too - because I almost did it myself. A guy I'm good friends with asked me out on a date and to be honest I didn't even feel the same about him that way. I was just friends with him and when he asked me I thought about accepting. He's super kind, good looking, and smart and he's an absolute catch. I thought about saying yes - not because I had a crush on him or anything, but I just wanted to be in love. But I didn't because that's a terrible thing for me to do. I didn't have any attraction for him romantically but if I started going out with him just because I wanted someone that would super, duper crappy of me. He's an awesome guy and he deserves way more than that. I didn't want to string him along. It would make me an awful person if I had done it.

To go out with them just because I wanted someone.

DC's Crimes of Passion

It's the constant back and forth between that I can't stand.

Nightwing (2011) Annual 1

What. Timing.

I genuinely don't understand what's she trying to get at here. I thought love was about working through the hardest times in your life together, achieving successes together, and always being there for each other. I didn't think love was about falling apart during every crisis big or small. I didn't think it was about breaking up when you felt like it and not bothering to resolve the issues that caused you to break up in the first place.

Later on in the comic, Barbara talks about talking it out later and goes to meet Dick but he had to leave cause he got called for a case.

Really. Now it's on the both of them here. They can't be together because then it's going to be a long distance relationship?

Frankly Dick in a semi and Barbara in a vest is...is there some stereotype about trucker families not working out that I'm missing here? what is this.

That's another thing that bothers me about Dickbabs. They never resolve the issue that caused them to break up in the first place. Sometimes I'm reading them and all of sudden Barbara's like "we should stop seeing each other," and I'm like why??? There's literally nothing going on??

Barbara cares a lot about Dick. She cares about his safety and sometimes his emotional wellbeing but she doesn't love him for who he is. She loves the idea of him but not him.

I swear I used to root so hard for them but it's exhausting to like them together when Dick is dumping buckets of love over Barbara's head while she's holding up an umbrella. And then she takes the umbrella and stabs it through his heart.

She can be super toxic when it comes to Dick.

Nightwing (1996) Issue #86

She literally blames Dick for trying to make her happy. In the comic he's doing acrobatics all over the place, fixing her computer so it's easier for her, and generally being overly cheerful for her so she'll forget her pain and become happy at least for a moment and in turn-she literally Gaslights him??

"You can't stop reminding me of what I once was. You can't stop flaunting your own health. You still think you're immortal, Dick, and you're not."

Are you for real?! If someone is walking and you're in a wheelchair, you want them to be in one too because you feel sad about yourself?

And the constant way she talks down to him.

But even this I can sort of understand. Let's throw the blame on Dick here for a split second even though it's not his fault. Barbara is recently put into a wheelchair so she's depressed. Dick is being overly helpful. He wants to do everything for her so he can make her life easier, to alleviate her pain and she's tired of that. That's understandable and honestly they did need a little break here so Dick could turn down his enthusiasm and let Barbara be the strong woman she's known to be. BUT WHY IS SHE BLAMING HIM?? Just tell him you want some time apart to figure out yourself without throwing the blame and breaking the heart of your boyfriend who loves you so much.

Dick here reminded me of family members after their child has been diagnosed with cancer. They want to do everything they can but they don't know how so they keep smiling through the pain and being as positive as possible.

Here's my main issue with Dickbabs. Writers are incapable of writing the two of them together in a way that lifts both of them up.

They got it into their heads that to make Barbara look smart, they have to make Dick look dumb. That to make Barbara look skillful, they have to make Dick look incompetent.

But hey it's unfair of me to use Nightwing comics only (DC crimes of passion isn't a nightwing comic but the point still stands) to talk about Dickbabs.

I'm not saying all Dickbabs is bad. There's a couple that are good like this one

Batgirls Issue #8

They're so cute!!! They look so hot together too

but. Writers as always are incapable of writing Dick as a strong independent character that relies on Barbara.

Batgirls Issue #8

Sorry, Dick - who has beaten Batman, destroyed Justice Leagues, runs superhero teams with some of the strongest metas in the world and has beaten them without breaking a sweat - just lets himself get kicked and punched around for fun? Are you trying to tell me that Dick only fights because people insult Barbara? I can't believe I'm saying this but Tom Taylor has written better than this.

Their love can be so one sided.

She abuses Dick as an emotional outlet for her anger and resentment.

Nightwing (1996) Issue #87

Context: She's blaming him for being sexually harassed by Catalina. Catalina earlier broke into their date night, beat Barbara up in the wheelchair, kissed Dick and kneed him to surprise him before Dick beat her off Barbara.

And not only is she busy victim blaming him, she's also busy calling him incompetent. And Dick's rightfully mad that as a vigilante of nearly two decades she's telling him he's pathetic.

And what does Bruce have to do with anything here? From the Titans, we know that Dick's greatest fear is turning into Batman. They fight so hard to protect him from it, and what does Barbara do?

"Congratulations. You've managed to turn into Bruce."

This makes me the most mad though-

"Bludhaven was managing a long time before you got here."

The anger I felt was incandescent. Why do people fight crime Barbara? I guess Bruce should just call it a night and take Batman for a nap forever. Why was Batgirl created if Gotham was managing before Batgirl even existed? In one sentence, she's managed to trash the multiverses of superheroes.

No wonder Wally wants Kori and Dick together. Barbara's mad at him for protecting her against Catalina. If Dick had just kept sitting and waiting for the bodyguards in that fancy place then Barbara wouldn't be severely injured. But oops. His bad.

After he punches the board she gets mad and leaves and Dick's emotional well-being goes on a downward spiral.

I have other issues with them because Dick's relationship with Barbara diminishes his canonical relationships with the superhero community.

Again - writers' problem.

So...complicated. They could be amazing if written right but right now I'm wavering between being indifferent to them and disliking them. They should seriously just be friends instead.

I need to clarify something first. Barbara Gordon herself is fine. She's cool. But when she's with Dick? The way writers write them as well as her own personality comes out in the worst, most toxic ways.

And that's not even getting into what writers did to Kori's personality and Dick's morality. They just dashed decades of Teen Titans comics to make both of them look evil.

That's not even touching the atrocity of their Dark Nights: Death Metal scene or the way Barbara victim blamed Dick for having amnesia.

Batgirl (2016) Issue #50

This is so unfair. She can victim-blame Dick for having amnesia because she's mad at bruce but if Dick even yelled at her when he's mad at Bruce, it would be an International Incident in the fandom. Where's the equality in this?

I know Barbara is pretty mad at other things in this scene but she has a tendency to use Dick as an emotional outlet

Batgirl (2011) Issue #3

She's literally beating him up because she's upset at losing her fight against some villain and thinking about her own insecurities. He just dropped in to show her some love and help.

If Batgirl Barbara only acted this way in Nightwing comics, then I would be inclined to say that the writers have a preference against her. BUT she's acts like this in the Nightwing comics, the Batgirl comics, the Batman comics, the general DC comics, and practically every comic that has them together. Given that DC is rooting for Dickbabs and trashing Kori for it, there is literally no reason for her to be acting this way. And the thing is, Dick's other relationships have been fantastic. Not just the big ones, but the minor ones too that people forget have been full of love. So why can't they write Dickbabs that way?

I didn't even know how bad they were together until recently. I just kinda glossed over all the toxic components of their relationship because, you know, "girlbossing" right? But there's only so many plot holes you can sell to your readers before they start questioning the legitimacy of your product. Thus my feelings about them have changed.

This being said, I don't like them romantically but I love them as friends. When Barbara is just working with dick as crimefighting partners or friends, they make an awesome team and they're so fun to read. I just can't stand them together as lovers anymore. And really, even their good Batgirl/Nightwing lover moments just seem like it's them being good friends.

They have the potential to be great.

Nightwing (2016) Annual #1

Batgirl (2016) Issue #16

But usually they're just not.