Inbox open for requests and general chat 18+|This blog contains yandere content sometimes but is tagged accordingly: #Yandere I also have EUPD so this blog also contains discussions of mental health occasionally. writer of headcanons, analysis and poetry, take requests sometimes| 25
I keep getting messages asking about why my master list is broken and that the links don’t work on my fics anymore. They continued to break and I steered away from posting on tumblr a long time ago when my username changed.
You can find all my old fics archived here on AO3 under my old username Sweetened-Apples
Also Trigger Warnings for my page and also my AO3, my Yandere writing is dark. It’s sometimes fluffy, but majority of the time it delves into some dark and violent territory. This isn’t for everyone and I understand. Please feel free to block me if you don’t want me on your feed.
I think there is something funny about Gale "God of Ambition" being silver
Not gold. Not number one. Not the best.
But silver. Second place. Second best.
All that talk of finally becoming an immortal god and showing up Mystra. Only to be firmly shoved into being the embodiment of his failure to overcome her. A second rate silver god. God of foolish wanting.
I can't stop thinking about Gale's decision to be the god of Ambition. Early on in Act 1 after meeting Raphael for the first time, he mentions how ambition is something all denizens of the hells and many humans embody.
In act 3, if you dissuade him from the crown, he will explicitly say that great ambition should not come at the expense of what you already hold dear.
In the epilogue, (assuming he ascends to godhood) he chooses to be the god of Ambition. But he holds on to a lot of things from his mortal days despite having lost nearly all of his humanity. Tim Downie does an amazing job with his acting, and you can really feel the distance through his body language and vocal patterns. Even his spells are quite sad- I will list below.
For his spells, there are 3: Gale has a spell to transform an already living creature into the form of Tara, his tressym. Tara is disgusted by Gale in this form and says he is not the same person. She even hisses at him. So it really is quite tragic that he creates a fake version of her to have some semblance of something he once held dear.
Gale's second spell is a reference to a story he will tell you early on in the grove (only if you stand in front of the crossbow) where he mentions diffusing a potential crossbow shooting by ordering Shadowdark Ale at The Yawning Portal.
And Gale's third spell is an exhibit of who and what he has become. Powerful, with his own type of weave - Galerian.
These spells feel like a reflection of who god!Gale is personified. He is a shell of what he was before, but at the expense of great ambition and power.
I just felt this was quite a tragic story for Gale. I think it's lovely and written very well, but does show what could come to pass for future playthroughs- I also love that if your tav is romanced, Gale's lost humanity does not change the love he has for you. His love transcends and really says so much about how valuable you are to him. If you choose to ascend to godhood with Gale, he will not make you a "chosen" and repeat the cycle of abuse; He will ascend you to godhood and help you through it.
I won't allow Gale to ascend in my runs because aside from him looking like a battery, it is clearly his "bad" ending and I love his warmth but I do respect how much it says about who he is and what outcomes would be in what situations. It makes understanding Gale easier. I love the writers at Larian and I love Tim Downie's performance. I love Gale. This was just a tidbit I found interesting.
if gortash survived and gale become god of ambition would gortash change or stay with bane?
Oh, he is absolutely staying with Bane.
See, there's ambition, and then there's ambition. While both Bane and Gale can be considered to have some degree of hold over the idea of 'ambition,' it is in very separate ways.
Gale is a more wispy, arrogant version of ambition. Ambition in general. Needing favor bestowed to follow a dream or perhaps a whim. Wishing for a little extra push. A look in the right direction, the right kind of attention, the simplest detail to bring together a complex spell for the first time. The right book, the right time, the right person.
The studious wizard; the eager bard; the bright-eyed swordsman; the gifted student; the young and the hopeful and the hubris.
Bane is grit and hands in the dirt. He is the fire that forges the blade and the hammer that shapes it. He is the desperate, the angry, the cruel, and the brutal. He is strength and power, and if you do not have it of your own volition, you do not deserve it.
The hellbound boy; the sneering warlord; the cruel architect; the ruthless king; the empty-eyed killer.
Bane will not give you ambition, but he will show you how to claim it if your nerves are iron enough to withstand. He is blood under the nails, tears long dried, and fury so hot that it burns even the wielder. He is lack of forgiveness. He is brutality. He is might is right and compassion is weakness.
The desperate do not turn to Gale. The hopeful turn to Gale. The arrogant. The needy. Those wishing they were recognized. Those chasing a dream. Those with the stars still in their eyes.
The desperate turn to Bane. They are not hopeful. They are tears long dried and hatred and blood like fire. They will mould the world like clay because they can, and because you cannot stop them. The world showed them no pity, and you shall receive none in turn.
Bane is the Black Hand that destroys and crushes and burns, and rebuilds in His image.
Gale is the ethereal hand that guides like a gentle wind from time to time. Indifferent and so terribly soft that sometimes you cannot even feel it. Inconsequential. Pointless.
Gortash is not a starry eyed child. He is whipped and flogged and wrung dry. He cannot count on anyone but himself, and he will tear down the walls with his own two fucking hands if he must. He is domination and tyranny through deceit and intelligence and strategy and strength.
Gale would wash his hands of Gortash-- and Gortash would never look to such an unrealistic ideal in the first place. Blood begets blood. He knows this. No adorable ideals spouted by arrogant heels will change this. Death, blood, strength, and cruelty. These are pillars-- they are not follies.
Gale, against Bane, is yet another frivolous, useless God with no real point but their own self-worship. Followed by fools, depended on by fools. Bane does not offer meager blessings and pageantry. He offers change, if you are strong enough to take it. He offers power, if you are clever enough to keep it. He offers a doctrine that will justify and even exalt you for these choices. Wash away the pain with blood and rebuild in your own--and his-- image. Take what is yours by right.
Show no mercy, for you shall be shown none. This is the way of the world. The strong eat the weak and take as they please. You can be fodder-- or you can be king.
No God can hand you this power. But Bane will smile as you take it.
HI i love the way you write gortash so much😭 i originally allied w him happily and didnt even think about fighting him until my second playthrough just for achievements-sake so i was wondering if you could like do a little something w gortash taking advantage of tav who is eager and willing with their alliance :o
Oh, he'd love you.
He had eyes on you the second you stumbled into the audience hall, sizing up the famed adventurer he'd heard and seen so much of. When you stand in front of him he expects you to be as stand-offish as your companions, but he's honestly shocked at how... nonchalant you are about the affair. He instantly doesn't trust you. He hates the dumb little look on your face as he explains that you aren't to return until Orin is dead. You, people pleaser that you are, agree on the spot. He's dumbfounded as you leave the hall. He had expected to have to schmooze, persuade, maybe even threaten you into working with him. Yet... there you go. Trotting off on your errand like it was the simplest thing you'd ever been asked. It's confusing.
When you return successfully, and you're staring up at him like he's personally hung the stars for you- he has the sudden realization that this might work out even better in his favor than he originally thought. An insidious smile creeps onto his face and his eyes are half-lidded as he sings his praises. This will be a very prosperous relationship, indeed.
At first, you're just his little errand runner- and aren't you just perfect? You do whatever he says, whenever he says, with no complaints. Of course, he has to push the boundaries. He wants to know how far he can get before there's some resistance. It starts with a simple dinner invite. Colleagues discussing plans over dinner, what's the harm? Your companions would try to talk you out of it, but you insist they're being overprotective. Gortash has been nothing but courteous to you so far. As you predict, dinner is pleasant- you're treated to gourmet meals served by a well-trained servant team. Gortash is a chivalrous and gracious host, happy to have your wine glass refilled over and over. Really, he insists. Treat yourself. You were already woozy after your first glass, so by the third, you're barely coherent. Big heart that he has, he helps you up with a worried look. He escorts you to a guest room, and with a chaste kiss to your hand he lets you sleep it off peacefully.
Over the next few days, you come down with a sudden and mysterious illness. Gortash, caring man that he is, is more than happy to let you stay as long as you need. His servants wait on you hand and foot, and he spends his free time sitting with you and chatting. He gets a little touchier during these sessions, but you chalk it up to him being worried. He's been so nice, why would you suspect anything?
You're not sure when the collar appeared, but you're starting to get a little concerned. You tried to leave your room once, and the door was locked from the outside. Gortash is now only interested in talking about your past relationships, or what you thought about him. If you say you trust him he'd smile, grabbing your chin gently. Good pet. His hand moves to your head, patting in a way that you would find condescending if you didn't think so highly of him. You're so perfect. Keep being a good pet, and maybe he'll reward you with a walk around the castle. Would you like that? Of course you would, silly thing.
Wrote this at 5am and I cannot get this thought off my mind… I gave up on proofreading it after the first couple paragraphs, whoops. Enjoy anyways.
Forewarnings: Darker Content
Normal Tav + Gortash
someone on tumblr posted this photo and I literally drooled like a rabid dog
Imagine having tried to escape Gortash. A little while ago, he invited you into his palace, but he caught you in his trap and you've been stuck ever since. He lavishly fed you and provided you with fine silk to wear. If necessary, maids would assist you, and he gave you paints and pen to entertain yourself with. He considered you to be nothing more than a toy. One he could dress up and take care of... you were simply so pretty. One that he could also bend over and take whenever he pleased. You stumbled upon an opening during one of his days. He was occupied and left you with only a few guards. The reason he didn't have his usual number was because security had been on high alert. After a scuffle, per se, happened in the audience hall. You seized the perfect opportunity to escape. You ran, taking rapid breaths, until you hit a dead end. During it all, you managed to hurt yourself trying to avoid being pursued. Although your legs were aching, your chest was the most pressing of your concerns. It hurt to breathe- you were sure you bruised a couple of ribs.
Gortash sought to meet you in his private chambers. He demanded it quite frankly. Had this been under different circumstances, he would have taken care of you by the medical wing. He would make sure to establish himself after you betrayed him directly. To prevent you from trying to escape him again. Perhaps he was too lenient on you and thought him a fool? He approached a shelf and flicked his metallic fingers through while you sat on one of his padded chairs. He landed on a small vial with precision. The contents were a deep and dark red color like coagulated blood. If you were to guess, you would assume it was a concentrated health potion. The way he looked at you was predatory when he turned around and held it between his fingers. He presented it to you with expectation, observing your behavior. It was almost a test of your will - how badly you wished to leave him. A fleeting defiance struck you when you reached out for it. The grave has already been dug, why not step in and enjoy the last moments of freedom? The vial slipped and landed on the ground with a clink. As the glass cracked, the contents spilled onto the marble. For a few seconds, his gaze twisted with fury before steeling itself.
Now, this could go one of two ways.
He grabs you by the hair and guides you to look at him. His dark gaze made you instinctively swallow. It’s clear that was a mistake. You’re sure you’ll be punished for later. He speaks with a venom, his every word enunciated. “Dirty pet,” he spat. “I won’t be putting any of that to waste.” Then, a smirk fills his face and he pushes you onto your knees before him. He lets go of your hair and strokes it once. “Lick it up.” He speaks simply as if it were casual conversation. You knew it wasn’t. The tone he held was too commanding.
Or,
He watches with an unreadable expression. As the liquid trickles to his feet, he hums and turns back around. He fetches another vial- but different. The color was too dark to tell which without inspection. His golden claws dug into the skin on your chin. “No worries. I can always help.” The last word is punctuated by him applying pressure to your cheeks. It made you wince as he forced your lips apart. The cap made a popping sound as it flicked off. Tilting your head back, you’re made to helplessly consume the potion as he made his dominance clear. “Good, now swallow and maybe we can talk a lesser sentence.”
OBVIOUSLYYYY lmao. he loves how small u are in comparison to him. i mean everything about him is large— hands, arms, chest, thighs. also, i feel like he likes that he has to help u when u take control because ur smaller or weaker than him. like, when he has to subtly help u pin his wrists by moving them in the direction u want lol
THIGH RIDING
this also plays into the size difference thing. like his thigh is just so big/muscular, and he loves watching u grind on it (or he can bounce his knee to help u get off too). the type to grab u by ur hips and assist u when ur rhythm starts to stutter. he also loves the wet spot that forms in ur underwear if u keep them on 💗
DEEP THROATING/FACESITTING
OK HE LOVES BOTH like i said everything about him is large (😈) so he loves to see u try to swallow him whole. the way u gag and struggle to take him in is soooo hot to him. also all the drool that spills out of ur mouth 🤤🤤 as for facesitting u better sit ur ass tf DOWN !! HE CAN TAKE IT !! lovessss when u grind on his face/mouth, also loves to squeeze ur ass during it
THREESOME
THIS MAN IS GENEROUS !!! LOVES to share !! always wanting to invite people to have sex with y'all. he feels like it's so much more fun and also loves to watch u get fucked/have u watch him get fucked. will want to do spit roasting too.
SWINGING
sooo into exchanging partners with other couples. or just fucking other people in general. of course he won't do this if u don't want to though. but he gets really excited if u do 😹😹 probably gets off while sharing ur experiences with each other
MINTHARA
KNIFE PLAY
likes the way u shake and whimper as she brings her knife close to ur skin. will leave small cuts and want to carve her initials into ur skin. also slightly into bloodplay too ?? i feel like she'd be into smearing ur blood on her hands and making u clean them off with ur tongue OOF
BONDAGE
she would absolutely cast web and use it as bondage restraints LMAO. will have u in some crazyyy positions too. kind of in a shibari way but with webs. the webs are actually pretty gentle though and have some give so she's not like, totally sadistic with it 😌💗
DACRYPHILIA
SHE DOES LIKE TO SEE U CRY THOUGH LMAO like something about how weak/pathetic u look turns her on so bad— as long as SHE'S the one that made u cry. if it's because of somebody or something else it's lowkey a boner killer for her 😹😹😹 will say really horrible, mean things to try to bring u to tears and then get wet af. will not comfort u after either
GAGGING
likes to use a ball gag but will honestly use whatever she has at the moment. a rag or her fingers even. she likes that u can't speak and can only moan/whimper. also into the way u drool. will purposely ask u questions and then punish/degrade u for not being able to answer
BOOT WORSHIP
LOVESSS making u kiss her boots. will want to hold u down with her boot and make u praise her endlessly. or step on ur face. might even be into giving u a little kick in the diaphragm if u want 😹😹😹
JAHEIRA
MIRROR SEX
WILL WANT TO BE FUCKED IN FRONT OF A MIRROR!!!! with her face pressed against it while she's getting backshots or even with one propped up beside the bed so she can watch how good she looks while she rides u. lowkey will put on a show for herself and get off to it 😹😹
LINGERIE
loves lingerie of all kinds. the garter straps on her thighs are her favorite part tbh. probably prefers to wear black or red— like classically sexy colors. also probably likes it if u wear some too, and will want to keep it on for the full duration of the sex. LOVES lace
STRIPPING
^^ ALTHOUGH.... she also really likes to strip for u. like going nice and slow while u try to restrain urself lol. will probably give u a lap dance too and is pretty playful with it sometimes. particularly loves to see how u get progressively more horny the longer she takes, also into seeing u touch urself a little bit during it too
NIPPLE PLAY
sucking on/playing with her nipples is a MUST. HUGEEEE erogenous zone for her. can probably cum from nipple stimulation alone. likes when u make it hurt a little too, like pinching or twisting them
DEGRADATION
kind of into u calling her names.... like whore or slut. tell her she's a dirty whore while u pull her hair and fuck her from behind. will also talk down to u if ur not really doing the best job LMAO like u better fuck her right or ur gonna get it 😹😹 she'll straight up be like "is that the best u can do?" or "this is pathetic."
BONUS:
GORTASH
BREEDING
HE NEEDS HEIRRRSSSS !!! ALWAYS wants to cum inside. an actual babymaking MONSTER like he cums so much its crazy. loves to see u stuffed full of his cum, it really makes him feels accomplished after all of his hard work 💪🏻💯😹
DADDY DOM
he is so into being called daddy. depending on the context he’ll get rock hard but also likes if u call him that outside of sex too. u can basically get anything u want from him if u add a ‘please daddy’ at the end of it— like he just can’t bring himself to say no. he’ll do anything for u to keep calling him that lol
*** DUBCON ***
DEFINITELY into coercing u/figuring out ways to get what he wants. likes when u get overstimulated and start telling him it’s too much or trying to push him away (u do have a safeword). also the fact that he can overpower u if he wants gets him sooo hard
POWER PLAY
LOVESSS having u at his beck and call. the more pliant and submissive u are the better. won’t do this outside of the bedroom unless u want to or if u initiate it since he prefers the idea of only him being able to see u like that. he’s the only one you’ll roll over for, so to speak lol
COLLARING
makes a special collar for u with expensive imported materials and shit lmao. thinks u look absolutely gorgeous in it and will tell u that all the time. loves the way u gasp when he sharply tugs on its leash. will also tug on it while giving u backshots. likes how it chokes u a little bit too, and the bruises it leaves behind when he’s too rough with it
Warnings: Dark themes™, unhealthy relationships, implied kidnapping and major power imbalances.
Word count: 1k.
Where there are sparks, there can be fire.
Concentrate. Hone your thoughts. Refine them, sifting through any impurities. Ichor is woven into your flesh like threads through a hallowed loom. These threads contain arcane energy that some spend lifetimes pursuing, their noses buried in esoteric tomes.
For you are a scion of a being most high — the Lady of Love’s darling daughter.
Sune’s always had a soft spot for you, fickle as her favor may be. Whispers carried by the wind offered encouragement at the beauty your artistry brought into the world. Your mother may be distant, but so is the sun, both of which provide satisfactory warmth regardless. This distance never bothered you. So long as you were free to wield a quill, lyre, or rapier, you were content.
Indeed, her distance never bothered you, until you realized that just like the sun, celestial bodies must give way to the night.
Focus, focus, focus.
The faintest hum of the Weave resonates within. It reaches out to you, incorporeal hands longing to touch. This is it. Your chance. Your spark. It’s tentative at first, a shy reunion—
—And then it’s gone. Silenced.
Extinguished.
Your shoulders droop as yet another failure joins your ever-growing resume.
Your shoulders droop as yet another failure is jotted down.
“I never took you for a masochist,” tyranny incarnate muses from behind. “That must be it. Why else would you torture yourself so?”
“I’m no more a masochist than you are a worthy ruler.”
You try to keep your tone steady and indifferent. Regrettably, of all your artistic talents, acting is not among them. The bitterness seeps out like blood through thin gauze. He must’ve sensed a fluctuation in the ‘connection’ you share. You thought yourself subtle with your tampering, but your sentimentality betrayed you.
“Ah. That’s where you’re mistaken. There are no ‘worthy rulers,’ only rulers who make their reign worthwhile.”
“That’s your intention?”
“That’s my intention,” he mimics your cadence.
Unwilling to withstand further provocation, you whirl around, ready to slink off. Your abrupt motion proves to be a mistake. The world loses its sharpness, the outline of every object smearing together as your balance falters. A wicked throb blasts through your skull — your reward for this little rebellion. The black fabric fastened around your throat greedily swallows the meal you just offered.
Its creator steadies your body as if he isn’t the source of your malaise. His hands, covered in golden gauntlets, slither around your bicep. You’re vaguely aware of the short journey to an outdoor table set. Water rushes from the garden’s ivory fountain, the sound crescendoing into something unbearable. The evening sun feels too hot, the summer air, too humid; and the deceptively delicate-looking choker around your neck too tight.
Gortash barks out orders toward the maids here to serve ‘you.’ They scurry about, their hurried gait like that of a discovered rat colony. You sit at his behest. Commanding others is second nature to him, he enunciates every syllable with the confidence of a man who knows he won’t be challenged. No good comes from fighting it. You panic, you struggle, and then finally, you sink, succumbing to a riptide you never had a chance against.
He holds a crystal vial to your lips, which you part without prompting. It’s syrupy on your tongue, an artificial sweetness intended to make the tonic more tolerable, owing to your many complaints. Whether he adjusted the formula for your sake or his, you can’t say.
The viscous liquid stubbornly sticks to your esophagus. Eventually, you force it down.
Gortash’s elixir circulates throughout your body and soothes the tempest you incited. There’s little you know about the magic that siphons your divinity, but you do know it’s volatile. The insidious inventor sat aside his pride to explain that much. He foresaw that you wouldn’t sit pretty while he sapped your celestial power. An accurate estimate, considering your current predicament.
He recognizes your lucidity returning before you do.
“Foolish girl,” Gortash sneers. He takes your chin in his hand, forcing eye contact. The bags beneath his eyes appear darker than when you first met. You suppose you’re to blame for that. “Are you so eager to undermine that you’ll put yourself at risk?”
“What does it matter,” you reply, your glare communicating what your weary voice cannot. “Pain is all I know around you.”
Gortash releases you as if your skin scalded him.
“Pain? This? You know nothing of pain, aasimar. The word is lost on you.”
Righteous fury churns your stomach in on itself.
“Then show me!” You demand. “Show me, if that’s what it takes for you to stop flaunting your godsforsaken ‘benevolence.’ A benevolent warden! Can those two roles coexist? Or are you the one ignorant of words and their meanings?”
You fight for each breath. It’s been some time since you’ve snapped at him like this. For good reason, you think, noting the murky abyss in his eyes. Lord Enver Gortash isn’t to be spoken to in such a discourteous manner. People have had lips sewn shut and fingers unnaturally contorted for less. His cruelty isn’t random, there’s a methodology behind each stitch and snap.
Yet here you sit. Physically unharmed, adorned in fine garments, aureate bracelets, onyx earrings, and his favorite shade of rouge upon your lips. You don’t know what to make of this, you didn’t want to know for the longest time either. Should he confirm what you dread, well… at least you’ll have clarity amidst the revulsion.
He studies you like he would a defective construct he’s one adjustment away to fixing. You loathe how vulnerable you feel beneath his scrutinizing stare, that he has the means to take you apart and piece you back together.
An eternity passes before Gortash speaks again.
“... You’re frightened,” he surmises. “Frightened over what it means to be the subject of my affection.”
Your pulse quickens as the cool metal of his gauntlets brush against your hand.
“You want my wrath. The sting of a riding crop, the indignation from the welt it forms.”
The gauntlet’s tips dig into your flesh. It almost hurts, until he lessens the intensity of his grip. He’s mastered applying just the right amount of pressure to leave indents behind without breaking skin. He could break you, but he wants you whole, as proof he could conquer you at your best.
“Keep wanting, you won’t ever receive it. No,” Gortash smiles, the skin beneath his eyes crinkling from mirth. “Endure what it means to have earned my affection instead.”
The Force Shall Free Me @coldsoba - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
