#or just forced out entirely

[river-bone]

Being reassured that I won't be replaced over and over again just to be replaced the moment I get comfortable

I know I have to be the problem, but why isn't there a solution that isn't just to be someone else, because I've tried and it doesn't work

[beebfreeb]

If I saw a nutcracker nobody could stop me

[savagegood]

after my friends expressed horror watching professional hockey player nathan mackinnon spray suncreen straight in the face, i'm actually curious...

[temeyes]

been working all day, have some Bois!

[idkaguyorsomething]

the convoluted doctor who lore gets extra funny when you realize that, at two separate points in the past, two different companions to two different doctors ended up running into rasputin but both came to the conclusion that he was a pretty nice and normal guy. which, depending on how you interpret the power of the doctor, is either a nice subversion of a lot of tropes of stories used in pre-soviet russia, or side-splittingly hilarious as you start imagining the master getting roped into various adventures with different versions of the doctor that he can’t fuck with yet or else he’ll destroy the timeline, forcing him to play nice with the humans as part of his 4D Time Chess Master Disguise Plan #3852

[the-magpie-collective]

Wyll seems to be the only companion who intentionally and repeatedly uses the mindflayer tadpole to communicate. I did a quick search through the dialogue files and the only other instance I found was at the beginning of Act I, when Lae'zel is captured by the tieflings, she'll use the tadpole to demand you free her.

And yet, Wyll is one of the companions most against using the tadpole's powers. Arguably, I'd say he's more against it than anyone save for Lae'zel. Which is why I find it so interesting that out of all of companions, Wyll is the one to latch onto and make use of this facet of the tadpole's powers.

The first time Wyll can use the tadpole is when Mizora bids him to rescue Zariel's asset. If the Player succeeds on their perception check, they can bargain with Mizora to free Wyll from his pact. Wyll link his mind with the Player's Character in panic, demanding to know "What are you doing?"

Then again when Wyll is finally reunited with his father, he uses the tadpole to show his father why he pacted with Mizora. Instead of explaining in his own words, he shows him the cultists as they attempt to summon Tiamat into Baldur's Gate. He'll do the same for the Player Character if his father isn't saved, even when he is freed from his pact and could say it in his own words. If the PC refuses to let Wyll show them, he will explain it, but clearly prefers to use the tadpole.

Finally, Wyll will also use the tadpole to bid farewell if he has a falling out with the player character, telling the player "Godspeed, and may your journey be true."

For Wyll, who had spent the last seven years under a devil's thumb, this narrative choice to use the tadpoles to communicate is telling. One thing all of these scenes have in common is that they all emotionally charged moments. They are also moments in which, in my opinion, it is very important for Wyll to convey his sincerity. Wyll has spent the last seven years always dancing around the truth and now here comes along a power where not only can he tell the truth, he can show the truth as he sees it, so that there is much less risk of being misunderstood. A power like that has to be irresistible.

Just another thing I wish was explored more in depth in game.

Edit: Thank you to everyone who pointed out instances when other characters also use the tadpoles to communicate <3

Turns out Wyll/Lae'zel's writer is the only one who bothered to use proper tagging in the dialogue system ('MINDMELD' if you're curious). This is why I can never find what I'm looking for in the dialogue files smh

[unfinishedslurs]

The boy stops in his tracks. “I know you,” he says, tilting his head curiously. He’s not tall, but he’s regal nonetheless, dressed all in white. Something about him makes Leia’s hair stand on end, and although she hides it she feels a stirring in her own chest. I know you like I know my own soul, she thinks wildly, and wonders where it came from. Has she gone insane?

“That’s nice,” she says, and shoots him anyway.

He deflects it in a flash of light, a glowing blue laser sword appearing in his hand like magic. She’s only seen one of those before, and it’s Vader’s. If this boy is anything like Vader, she realizes, she’s in deep shit.

She’s smart enough to know when she’s outmatched. Leia makes the tactical decision to run for her life.

Later, as she’s getting the hell out of there, she wonders why he didn’t try to stop her.

She remembers being young and tugging on her mothers skirts, demanding to know why their guest was so sad. “Does he not like it here?” She’d asked, and then, trembling, because Kenobi always seemed saddest around her. “Is it…because of me?”

“Oh, Leia,” her mother sighed, lifting her into her arms. “It’s not that, I promise.”

“Then what is it?”

“Master Kenobi lost a child under his care, years ago.” Breha’s eyes grew deeper, darker. “It was not his fault, but he blames himself. You remind him of that child, that’s all.”

Leia had quieted at that, contemplative.

The next time she’d seen Master Kenobi, she had given him a hug. He didn’t seem to know what to do with that, so she resolved to give him more of them. “He’s lonely,” she’d told her mother. “No one should be lonely.”

Looking at Obi-Wan Kenobi now, the memory seemed so far away. He’d aged thirty years in the ten it had been.

He looks, Leia thinks with a small twinge of regret, very lonely.

“Leia,” he greets. “It’s been a long time.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Leia sees a glint of white.

Kenobi freezes in his tracks. “Luke?” He whispers, and through the distance Leia can hear it as if he’d been speaking directly into her ear.

Master Kenobi lost a child under his care, her mother whispers in her head. He blames himself.

In an instant, Leia understands everything.

Kenobi is still staring at the boy he’d lost so long ago when Vader cuts him down.

Later, as she’s pacing around on the Falcon to Han muttering darkly about Princesses and supernatural abilities, she rememberers the way the boy collapsed, as if all his strings had been cut. Vader was too occupied with him to even look at her as she shot at him desperately.

Luke. She hates him more than she hates herself.

“They know where you are,” he hisses frantically. “They’re coming for you. You have to run.”

“Wait!” Leia quickly pulls up their sonar. Nothing yet, but it would explain the distant queasiness she’d felt since they’d landed. She tended to trust her gut. “How do you know? How much time do we have?”

“Not important, and not enough,” he says. “I have to go, and so do you. You need to leave yesterday.”

“How do I know I can trust you? I don’t even know who you are.”

He pauses. “Call me Skywalker.”

“That’s not an answer, Skywalker.”

“Yes it is.”

She opens her mouth to argue, but there are faint voices on the other end, drawing nearer.

“Shit,” Skywalker mutters. “I have to go. I’ll be in contact, okay? Don’t ever tell me where you are, or where you’re heading. Vader and Palpatine aren’t shy about reading minds. Just leave as soon as you can, and figure out the rest.”

“But—“

It’s too late. The comm has disconnected.

She stares down at it, disbelieving. How would the Empire know they’re here? Why should she trust a stranger who somehow got her personal comm code?

Gut feeling or not, on paper this was a perfect location. Supplied, armored, and most importantly, extremely well hidden. There was no real reason to think it would possibly be found out.

It’s probably a trap. Almost definitely a trap.

Han sticks his head in the door, a sour look on his face. “Hey Princess, can you tell these idiots—“

She makes a decision then and there.

“We’re leaving.”

“What?”

“We’re evacuating, effective immediately.” She pushes past him, and he follows so close he’s nearly stepping on her heel.

“Why? I think it’s pretty cozy here. Actual sunlight doesn’t hurt, either.”

“Apparently too cozy.” She grabs the first person she sees, a pilot who stares at her with wide eyes. “Emergency evacuation. Spread the word to pack everything you can and leave, I’ll let you know where we’re headed when we’re in orbit.”

He salutes and scurries off.

“Woah, hey now.” Han snatches at her elbow until she turns around to face him. “What’s going on?”

“There’s a new informant. He told me the Empire knows we’re here. They’re coming for us.”

“And you trust this person because…”

“I don’t have a choice,” she snaps. Someone runs past them, holding three packs filled to the brim with rations. “It’s either he’s lying and we’re not in danger, or he’s telling the truth and we’re going to die if we don’t listen. It’s not exactly hard math.”

It could be a trap of course, but he hadn’t suggested any sort of direction or destination to follow, and Leia wasn’t inclined to share. Especially not after his tidbit about Vader and Palpatine reading minds.

He squints at her. “That’s not it.”

“What?”

“I don’t believe you,” he insists. He’s so infuriating. Leia doesn’t know why she hasn’t kicked him out yet.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes you do, and you’re either gonna tell me why, or find a different transport when we head out of here.”

“Who said I was riding on your hunk of junk?” She demands. She actually was planning on going with them, since the Falcon has more than enough room for all the supplies that can’t fit in the other ships and none of the trustworthiness of the other pilots, but Han doesn’t need to know that.

“Well?”

Damn him. Damn him for knowing how to read her. She doesn’t know when she let that happen.

“I feel it,” she admits, defeated. “Something tells me he’s trustworthy. We’ll wait and see if it’s right.”

He studies her. She holds her head high, but inside she’s jittery at the scrutiny. They don’t have time for this.

“Yeah, all right,” Han finally says.

“Really?”

“Yes, really.” He rolls his eyes, like she’s not acting absolutely insane by putting all her trust in a random man she’s never even met. “Now come on, Princess, weren’t you the one who said we had to hurry?”

What is it about this man that makes it impossible to tell whether she wants to punch him or drag him into the nearest supply closet? They don’t have time to find out.

“So there’s good news and bad news.”

“Bad news first,” she demands.

“They know there��s a mole.”

“Shit.” Of course they know, how could they not? She should have been more careful, less obvious about the correlation of their movements with the Empire’s plans. “The good news?”

“They’ve tasked me with hunting down this ‘pathetic rebel spy,’” Skywalker says, humor in his voice. “That should buy me some time.”

Leia can’t quite stop the snort she lets out. “Seriously?”

“Yep. You’re speaking to a professional mole-hunter, here.”

“Well congratulations on the promotion, Skywalker.”

“Thank you,” he says grandly. Then, quieter, “It won’t last, Princess. They’ll find out eventually.”

“I know. Just hang in there, it will be over soon.”

“Will it?” He asks, suddenly sounding very young. She realizes that she has no idea how old he is. She doesn’t know anything about the man who has saved them more times than she cared to admit, and the idea rattles her until they sign off.

Later, she looks up the name Skywalker in their archives. There are a few results, but only one sticks out.

Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Knight and hero of the Clone Wars. Killed at the hands of Darth Vader. There are gossip articles too, speculations on his relationship with the pregnant Senator Padmé Amidala, who died around the same time Skywalker did. The baby, it seems, died with her.

Unless he didn’t.

It’s ridiculous. It’s impossible. The idea is so ludicrous that Leia almost rejects it entirely.

But it makes sense. By the Maker, it makes sense.

The child of Anakin Skywalker, it seems, would be a powerful Force user indeed. Powerful enough for Kenobi to take the baby and run. Powerful enough for the Emperor to want him for his own gain. Powerful enough to send Vader after Kenobi and take the boy himself.

Maybe even powerful enough to shield his mind from Vader and Palpatine’s intrusions.

Powerful enough to hide the fact that he’s a spy.

Leia sinks into her chair, covering her face as she laughs.

Maybe Luke isn’t so bad after all.

“No, no, no,” she mutters, digging through the smoking wreckage of the TIE fighter. “Don’t be dead, please don’t be dead.”

“Princess…” Han lays a hand on her shoulder that she immediately shrugs off.

“No, he’s not dead. He’s not. Luke!”

A faint cough answers her, and she’s so relieved to hear it she could cry. Behind her, Han starts bellowing for a medic and, “Some damn help here, do you expect us to move all this ourselves?”

“Luke, it’s me,” she sobs. “It’s Leia. You’re at the Rebel Base. You’re safe.”

More coughing, and there’s a worrying rasp to his voice when he says, “You know…my name?”

“I figured it out.”

“Smart.” This time, the coughing is so bad Leia and Han both wince.

“Shit, kid,” Han says, moving another piece of rubble. “Don’t talk. We’re gonna get you out of here, all right?”

“Stand back,” Luke chokes out.

“What?”

“Stand back. Please.”

Han protests, but something in Leia knows they should listen to him. She drags him back, and motions everyone else to fall back with them. They do, albeit reluctantly.

“Clear,” she calls, hoping Luke can hear her.

The TIE explodes.

“Fuck!” Han goes back in, Leia on his heels with the terrifying feeling that she’d just allowed Luke to die, before they both stop in their tracks. Around them, the broken pieces of the TIE are floating.

And curled up in the middle is a man dressed all in white.

“Luke!” She pushes past Han to start dragging him out, and after another moment of staring around them, he helps her.

As soon as they get clear, the pieces fall to the ground with a clatter. Luke falls limp with them.

Han is still looking at the TIE. “Can you do that?” He asks quietly.

Leia pauses her examination of the unconscious man in front of her to glare at him. “Is that what you’re most concerned with right now? Really?”

“Excuse me for asking, Princess!”

“It’s white,” Luke grumbles, pulling at his hospital gown bitterly. “I hate wearing white.”

“Should I be offended?”

He rolls his eyes. “Don’t even. You look great and you know it. I just feel like I never left.”

“Well,” she says gingerly. “I guess it’s a good thing you got sick of it. If we went around in matching outfits all the time, people might think we’re twins.”

He snorts. “Yeah, right.”

[sysig]

Chewtoy (Patreon)

[kockatriceking]

how Courier Six be looking at Jeannie-May Crawford just before putting on the red beret (her head is about to spontaneously explode)

[enden-k]

his work motto prolly hhhhf (the "fuck amygdala, fuck azai" silently swings in his tone)

[to-be-a-dreamer]

Not to get too involved in discourse but “Agatha is a deeply traumatized person who is acting out of a place of hurt and deserves sympathy for the pain she's had to endure and understanding that the majority of her wrongdoings were committed out of desperation for survival” and “Intention doesn’t erase outcome and her pain doesn't undo the trauma and horror she's committed against others; her victims don't owe her forgiveness before redemption and it is reasonable for people who know nothing about her past to distrust her based on her reputation and the persona she displays” are both true statements that can coexist.

Please remember that "morally gray" means a person is neither good nor bad. Please do not reduce this incredibly complex character to entirely evil or entirely innocent because she is neither. She has done truly terrible, unforgivable things and is also a victim of cruelty and injustice. Let her be both.

[beware-of-you-98]

i know, i know, jj is so fucking strong and she perseveres despite everything she’s gone through, i know, but fucking hell my heart is breaking over and over for her

the far away look in her eyes

the constant fidgeting to keep herself present

the way she only has the bare minimum amount of skin showing, even to where she’s covering her hands

my heart hurts for her so much and she’s forcing herself to deal with all of this alone

[s0fter-sin]

nikolai hunting ghost down whenever they're on the same base and plucking him from whatever duties he has to whisk him away somewhere private. he has no authority, nothing more than his reputation as a rogue pilot with a few screws loose, but the way he fearlessly manhandles the ghost has people ducking out of his way anyway

behind a locked door, he offers ghost the choice of either curling up at his feet or sitting pliant in his lap, his full weight against him with his head lax on his shoulder; warm, comfortable, boneless

he then tucks his mask up above his lips and plies him with fruit and sweets; things he'd never buy for himself, indulgences he’d never entertain, wasted on a hollow shell like him

but nikolai? oh, he knows how much he deserves them; these precious moments of peace where the only thing ghost exists for is the next delicious bite

he feeds them to him one by one; thumbing strawberry juice and powdered sugar from his lips, humming in pure pleasure as he sucks it away, and smiles at ghost’s involuntary shivers when he feeds him his favourites. ghost doesn't even know what most of the sweets even are; what they’re made of or even what country nikolai buys them from. he just knows he loves them; loves the chase of nikolai’s fingers on his tongue after each one even more

nikolai always brings plenty for him, always draws it out, wanting these rare breaths of contentment to last for ghost’s sake as much as his own; offering plump bites of tart, homemade treats, letting rich chocolate melt between his fingers so it's soft in his mouth and watches his eyes flutter shut as he savours it

decadence incarnate; slow taught and hard won

ghost licks the dregs from his fingers and suckles them long after they're clean; the thought of an empty mouth so wrong to his sweet-clouded mind. nikolai coos in russian down at him, brushing his fingers through his hair as he holds him close, but he's too far away to take in any of it; the only thing holding him in the present the sugared fingers held gently in his mouth

after all, nikolai's always been his favourite sweet

[ryssbelle]

Poppy for N2 au, it took me so long to make her design cuz I didn't really know what I wanted to do only because I feel like her design is pretty perfect.

But then I just thought about fun outfits to give her or outfits that I would find comfortable if I was wearing them and it all came together.

Poppy here is pretty much the same as here movie counterpart, as nothing really changes on her end of things other than having more insight on Branch through his brothers, and through Lief. Shes also a bit more understanding a bit earlier on because of it but it doesnt do much to change her own character arc I would say.

Bonus

Part of Poppys design was based off a design I had made for previous rulers of Troll Village/Tree

Namely Queen Protea who I designed as Poppys grandmother

Named after the Protea flower which part of her design is based off :D

In the context of this Au Protea was the one who conceptualized the tunnels while her son, King Peppy, was the one to follow through after her death

[aparticularbandit]

If Rio is Death and is after Billy for escaping his death.

If Rio cannot kill Agatha.

If they maintain the end of the initial Road story.

I think we might see an Agatha sacrifice for Billy.

Because she would be keeping him alive when she couldn't keep Nicholas alive.

Because dying might mean she could be with Rio.

Because finding a way to reverse her siphoning would mean that she can control it.

Because Rio cannot kill Agatha.

(Rio cannot kill; Rio takes what is already dead.)

Because if Agatha dies, Billy can probably bring her back.

If Billy dies, Agatha cannot bring him back.

[wonder-worker]

Wild how we know that Elizabeth Woodville was officially appointed to royal councils in her own right during her husband’s reign and fortified the Tower of London in preparation of a siege while 8-months pregnant and had forces gathering at Westminster “in the queen’s name” in 1483 – only for NONE of these things to be even included, let alone explored, in the vast majority of scholarship and historical novels involving her.