#When I did something wrong and now I have to call the most unethical person I know to convince me it's not a big deal and I'm being dramati

[hulloitsdani]

It worries me sometimes

how similar you both can be.

[projectionistwrites]

FOR SCIENCE | the project proposal

In which the Moon Knight alter system presents a unique opportunity to settle the nature versus nurture debate, once and for all...

Steven Grant/Marc Spector/Jake Lockley x afab!psychologist!reader (3.2k+)

RATING: EXPLICIT (18+, mdni) WARNINGS: descriptions of mental illness, depictions of DID, fetishization of mental disorders (DID), potentially unethical scientific practices, no smut in this part NOTES: again, please don’t read this if you’re concerned at all with research ethics, as this is NOT a good demonstration of scientific procedures and studies. DISCLAIMER: although i’m incredibly knowledgeable about psychology, i am NOT a professional. all psychoanalyses made throughout the course of this storyline are entirely my own, based on my own interpretations of the characters. in a similar vein, i am also not an expert on DID specifically (although i am well-read on mental disorders and diagnoses), so i apologize for any incorrect terminology or misrepresentation. don’t hesitate to call me out if i say something wrong!

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Marc Spector’s psyche was a psychologist’s wet dream.

Three distinct personalities, completely separated from each other, all occupying the same host body. At one point, all mutually unaware of the others, but now living together in solidarity and (relative) cooperation.

Meeting Marc Spector was a happy accident—but meeting a man with a clearcut case of Dissociative Identity Disorder as a Professor of Psychology? Now that was just pure, dumb luck.

You had met Steven Grant first. You’d run into him at the British Museum during a university-sponsored visit. Your interaction had been brief, but it was memorable for you nonetheless—there was just something about those soft brown eyes and dopey, shy smile that melted your heart.

Imagine your surprise when you accidentally ran into that same man on the bus, only for him to introduce himself as Marc with a midwestern American accent and a cold, calculated gleam in his stare. He was forward and confident—very much unlike your previous encounter with him. When you called his bluff and swore you’d interacted with him under the guise of Steven, he pulled you aside and gently tried to justify the confusion.

“It’s—I have this...condition. It’s—have you ever heard of Dissociative Identity Disorder?”

You had tried hard to fight your smile.

“Yeah, I’m familiar with it.”

It was only revealed to him—after his winded and lengthy explanation—that you had a doctorate degree in clinical psychology and specialized in mental disorders.

Steven’s curiosity was piqued, and Marc silently hoped you’d be able to shed some insight into the functioning of his fragmented mind. You quickly established an easy friendship, somewhat reminiscent of a relationship between a client and therapist—although you knew and cared for each other on a much deeper and more intimate level.

Several months later, you were finally introduced to the most elusive alter within the system—Jake Lockley.

You began to spend the majority of your free time with the men—all three of them seemed to be relatively taken with you. Steven was sweet, Marc was shrewd, and Jake was steadfast. It was sometimes difficult to conceptualize that they all shared the same physical body with how differently they behaved.

It hadn’t started as a project—genuinely, truly, it hadn’t. It wasn’t your intention to be so captivated by those big brown puppy-dog eyes or the softness within his smile. And the feelings you had for him—for all of them—were real, and raw, and indisputable. You would never, ever, ever do anything to make them feel uncomfortable or jeopardize your relationships in any way.

Which is why this was such a bad fucking idea.

Your nails drummed against the side of your porcelain coffee mug as your nervously chewed on the cap of your red pen, making a futile attempt to focus on grading the research report in front of you, but your attention was clearly elsewhere. Your eyes kept darting to the clock on the wall across from you, watching the second hand tick away slowly. The coffee shop was playing gentle soothing acoustic songs, the smell of cinnamon lingering in the air, but even the coziness wasn’t enough to shake your nerves.

“Hey, there, Doc.”

Your head perked at the sound of a familiar voice, a warming hand clapping your shoulder as Marc Spector walked to the other side of the small table and sat down across from you. You groaned at his greeting, pulling your reading glasses from your nose and setting them on the table in front of you.

“Marc, I swear, if you call me that one more time, I’ll—”

He threw his hands up in mock surrender, although he was smirking slyly at you.

“Alright, alright, jeez—what’s got you wound up so tight, huh?”

He reached for the paper on top of the stack in front of you, reading off the title aloud.

“An In-depth Investigation Into the Underlying Psychological Causes of Erectile Dysfunction in Men Under 50.”

His face contorted in a look of disgust.

“Jesus—that’s gotta be the most boring fuckin’ thing I’ve ever heard.”

You watched as his eyes fluttered briefly, his posture sinking and his features softening. When his eyes regained focus, he shook his head, huffing.

“Bugger off, Marc—I think it sounds plenty interestin’.”

Steven smiled graciously, offering the packet back to you. You accepted it tiredly, throwing it atop the pile of what seemed like an endless supply of mediocre student submissions that had yet to be graded.

“Thanks, Steven, but Marc’s right—my brain’s fried. I swear, if I have to read another shitty case study about men whose dicks don’t work, I’ll gouge my eyes out.”

The man chuckled at your confession as you shoved the stack of papers into your briefcase clumsily, snapping it shut without a second thought and letting it fall back to the floor beside your table. You carefully picked up your mug and took a long, slow sip—your coffee was barely lukewarm, at this point, as you’d be sitting at the cafe for hours, working quietly as you patiently waited on your friend’s arrival.

Although Steven was blissfully oblivious, Marc was observant. His consciousness pushed to the front, studying you carefully—your white-knuckled grip against your cup, your shifty eyes that were looking everywhere but at him, the tension in your shoulders and nervous bouncing of your leg.

“Alright—what’s wrong?”

Your gaze snapped over to him where he was sat with arms crossed over his chest, eyes narrowed in suspicion. You tried to force a smile in an effort to cover up your uncertainty.

“Nothing’s wrong, Marc. Promise.”

You held his gaze intently, trying to convince him with your half-hearted response. His stare didn't waver, and after a few brief moments, you had to look down, overwhelmed with the intensity of his scrutiny.

“Alright, let’s try that again. Y/N—what’s wrong?”

You let a long, exasperated sigh, running a tired hand down your face. This had been weighing on you for a few days, at this point, and you still weren’t sure if you could handle the emotional labor this conversation would require.

“It’s true, nothing’s—nothing’s wrong, per se, I just—I just need to talk to you. I’ve—I have this idea—”

“Like—a work-related, science-y idea? You want Steven? Or—I can try my best to help, but sometimes you get excited and start talking really fast and I can’t keep up, but—”

“No, Marc, it’s not—I mean, it’s not really science-y, but like, also—it kinda is? I don’t know how to explain it, but I really need to—”

“I mean, whatever it is, you seem pretty worried about it, so obviously it’s important, and—and I just wanna make sure we’re giving you whatever response you need, or, at least—”

“Jesus, Marc, if you’d let me finish.”

You clipped, and his jaw snapped shut instantaneously, somewhat taken aback by your outburst. You were normally so controlled, practiced with your expressions, so seeing any sign of emotional imbalance was startling.

Guilt immediately flooded your stomach after you lashed out—you buried your head in your hands, taking a few slow, deliberate breaths in an attempt to quell your rapid heartbeat.

“Shit—sorry, I didn’t mean—this is just... I’m not sure how to go about this.”

You felt the featherlight brush of calloused fingertips against your forearm, coaxing your face away from your palms. When you finally lifted your head, Steven had returned, his eyes soft and reassuring. He pulled your hand into his, squeezing briefly before rubbing his thumb comfortingly across your knuckles.

“S’alright, love, truly. Take as much time as you need, and—and if there’s anythin’ you need from us, it’s yours. Just—whenever you’re ready.”

You tried to ignore the butterflies flitting in your stomach at Steven’s gentle promise. You inhaled once more, before finding his eyes.

“This—I need to talk to all three of you. Can you—are you in a place where you can all be co-conscious?”

Steven’s lips turned up at the corners at your thoughtfulness. He received verbal responses from both Marc and Jake—a confirmation that they were both actively listening.

“’Course. We’re all here. Is—do you have a preference, as to who you’d like to speak with?”

You returned his smile, offering a slight squeeze to his hand.

“I mean—since you’re already fronting, might as well stay, huh?”

Steven blushed, trying to fight the giddiness that came from your validation. He quickly steeled himself, reminding himself that you were struggling to open up to him.

“Alright. Whenever you’re ready, then, yeah?”

You cautiously pulled your hand away from his, mostly to keep yourself grounded and get out what you needed before you second-guessed yourself.

“So.”

You cautiously began.

“I had this—this idea. And it’s—it sounds crazy, and I get that, but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it, especially because—well, I just feel like this is something that could have damning effects on the entire field of psychology, with both practical and theoretical applications, but—that doesn’t mean—I don’t want you to feel obligated by any means to agree, or—or to feel pressured into anything, and I definitely don’t want you to think that—that I’m using you, because that couldn’t be farther from the truth, I swear, and—”

“Y/N.”

His tone was soft, a quiet interruption from your rambling, and your eyes widened in concern. However, he offered you a reassuring nod.

“Just tell us what it is, yeah? We’ll go from there.”

You nodded slowly, squeezing your eyes shut, before beginning again.

“There’s this huge debate in psychology. It’s pretty much the basis of a lot of our research—the whole nature versus nurture debate. Basically, it’s all about how much of our personalities can be attributed to genetics versus how much can be attributed to our life experiences.”

Steven was listening intently, leaning forward into your words.

“Well, it’s—it’s a concept that’s really difficult to research, because, well, we don’t really have a basis of comparison. The best thing we have to go off of is when identical twins get separated at birth and grow up in different places. Or, at least—that was the best we’ve had up until this point. Does—does that make sense?”

“Yes.”

He assured, nodding in acknowledgement. You only hoped the other two alters were keeping up.

“So, basically what I’m getting at here, is, well—you, and—and all three of you, really—Marc and Jake, you guys provide a really, really unique opportunity, because, well—you share a body. So, physiologically, you’re completely identical. The only thing that’s different about you is who you are, so—your life experiences and memories and things like that. You’re—you’re like the perfect example of how our experiences shape our beings.”

“Right. Right.”

Steven followed your train of thought carefully, brows furrowed. You took a deep breath. This is the part you were dreading.

“So, I had this thought... you three boys are so vastly different from each other. Like, really, really different, and—and you each have your own preferences, things like that, but—but you still have the same body. In my Abnormal Psych course, we’re studying intimacy and desire right now. So—so what I was wondering was about your—your sexuality. Like, to what extent are your sexual preferences due to your biology rather than your cognition.”

Steven blew out a shaky exhale, though he tried not to appear perturbed by your words. His mind was silent—he could feel the intense focus from his alters, now hanging on your every word.

“What if there was a way, to, you know, test, how different your sexual preferences are? And to test and see how your arousal is different, or the same, based on locations of stimulation and things like that?”

Bloody fucking hell.

In a split second, Marc was fronting, Steven slipping back into the headspace, completely overwhelmed and unsure of what to say or how to react. You noticed the abrupt switch, and after recovering from the brief whiplash, you felt panic spur within you. You’d scared him away.

Marc’s brows were furrowed, like he wasn’t completely picking up what you were putting down.

“So, what exactly are you suggesting?”

You closed your eyes.

“I guess—what I’m suggesting is that you—you help me research. You—you let me study you, each of you, independently, to see—to see how different your sexual behaviors and preferences are.”

“Like—like a questionnaire, or something?”

Marc questioned, but when you shook your head, eyes casting downwards, it suddenly dawned on him. Steven’s departure made sense. Everything made sense.

“So... so lemme get this straight.”

Marc made a stopping motion with his hand, gesturing for you to pause.

“You—want to have sex, with me—with us... for science?”

“Well, I mean, it—it doesn’t necessarily have to be with me, I could—we could find someone else, if you’re more comfortable, and—and I could just observe, or—”

“So you’re a voyeur, now?”

You jolted and Marc’s vulgarity, eyes quickly scanning your surroundings to make sure no one was listening in on your conversation. Luckily, the cafe was relatively deserted at that point.

“No! No, that’s not—I’m just saying, with what I’m suggesting, it—it would make the most sense for the researcher to—to be more hands-on, but that’s...”

Your voice trailed off, staring at a speck of grime on the table, trying to calm the rapid racing of your heart.

Yeah, seems she's interested in being real hands-on, huh?

Marc struggled to hold in his snickering at Jake’s internal dialogue, but after seeing the worry that was clinging to your features, his sympathy prevailed.

“Y/N.”

He spoke calmly, cool and collected. Your eyes flitted to his, where he was watching you intently. However, you could see the ghost of a smirk on his face.

“So what you’re saying is... you want to have sex, with me, for science.”

He reiterated, and you opened your mouth to protest, to defend your credibility, to rationalize your bizarre proposition, but instead, a long sigh escaped you as you admitted defeat.

“Yes. Yeah. That’s…exactly what I’m saying.”

A brief silence stagnated between you, and there was a tightness forming in your chest as every worst-case-scenario began coming to fruition in the forefront of your mind.

“I’m—I’m so sorry, Marc, I didn’t mean to overstep, or—or—”

“What, exactly, would this entail?”

Marc inquired, unable to deny his curiosity. You blinked once, then twice, processing his words.

“So—so you’ll do it?”

He held up his hands as if to tell you to slow down.

“Just—hang on. Hypothetically speaking, what—what would this even look like?”

Excitement zipped up your skin as you reached down into your briefcase, pulling out a manila folder full of several sheets of scribbled ideas and disorganized thoughts.

“Well, see, I’ve been brainstorming—”

Christ, she has the whole thing planned.

Steven’s voice sounded faint, breathless, winded. Marc ignored him, instead focusing in on your sudden enthusiasm.

“—and I came up with a research plan. So, the way it would go—we’d meet for the weekend, three weekends in a row, with a week break in between. Each alter will have their own weekend to be the subject of study. Day one, we—well, you would lead the sexual encounter. Do what you want, showcase what sex usually looks like for you, what you like, what you don’t like—”

Marc's mind was reeling. He shamelessly attempted to ignore the effect your words were having on him. Do what you want. What you like. To you.

You were still talking.

“—and then the second day, you’d let me take the reins. I’ll psychoanalyze your behavior from the first day, and synthesize that with all the information I already have about you, and I’ll try to—well, I don’t wanna say push your buttons, but—basically, as shitty as it sounds, I’d be trying to bring to light any vulnerabilities, prod at the soft spots, stuff like that. Try to see if I can find what it is each of you seeks out through sexual intimacy. Does that make sense?”

Marc shook his head, lost in thought, but he blinked away the fog in his mind and quickly corrected himself with a nod.

“Yeah, I mean—I think so? Would this—what would you do, once it’s over? Like, what’s the point?”

“It would never be published, or shared with anyone else, I can promise you that. It’s—it would mostly be for me. Kind of like a passion project, I guess. I’ve been thinking about it for awhile, and, well...”

Passion project?

What’s she mean, ‘she’s been thinkin’ about it for awhile?’

Marc almost shushed the voices in his head aloud, trying to clear his head of static so he could properly take all of this in.

He looked up at you, and you were staring up at him with eye round and hopeful, almost reverent as they passed over him. He blew out a slow breath.

“Do... can we have time to think about it? To talk about it?”

The fuck do you mean, jefe? I’m ready to start right now.

You nodded encouragingly, although Marc caught the brief glimmer of disappointment in your eyes.

“Of course, Marc. Take as long as you need. And—please don’t feel obligated to say yes. I mean it. I know—I know this kind of came out of left field, and—and I don’t want to violate any boundaries, or—or jeopardize our friendship in any way, I would never want to do anything to make you uncomfortable, just—”

You stalled your tangent with a slow breath.

“Just let me know, okay?”

Marc nodded at you, smiling softly and contemplatively as he rose from the table and exited the coffeeshop, leaving you to stew in anticipation and something adjacent to remorse.

The call came in the next day, at 11am on the dot. It was Steven on the other line when you answered, walking out of the lecture hall doors as your class adjourned.

“Hello?”

You answered.

“Mornin’, Y/N. It’s, uh—It’s Steven.”

You giggled.

“I know, Steven. I have caller ID, and believe it or not, your accent is kind of distinct.”

You could practically hear him blush on the other end.

“Right. Yeah. Well, I just—I was callin’ to, uh—Christ, of course they made me do this, I can’t even—”

“Steven.”

You interrupted gently, your calmness soothing his nerves to some degree. He took a breath.

“Sorry. I—We talked it over. The whole—your experiment. And—and I think we’re all up for it.”

You froze in your tracks, students continuing to rush around on either side of you in the hallway. Your hand was shaking.

“I—really? Are you sure?”

“Well, no—I mean, yeah, I just—of course, I’ve got some reservations, but, I mean—it’s for science, yeah?"

A smile was creeping up your face.

“Yeah. Yes. For—for research purposes.”

Yeah, solely research purposes, my ass.

Marc quipped internally, and Steven gulped.

“Right, then. Could we—shall we meet again today, or—whenever, to talk it over a bit more?”

You nodded before realizing he couldn’t see you.

“That’d be perfect. We can meet same time, same place as yesterday?”

He gave a hum of agreement, and you felt suddenly breathless as the reality of the situation began to set in.

“Right. I’ll—I’ll see you then, okay, Steven?”

“Yeah, ‘lright, cheers.”

“And, Steven?”

You called quickly, hoping to catch him before he ended the call.

He hummed in response. You smiled.

“Thank you. Really, thank you.”

[vvaspoppie]

Doc Ock x Symbiote!Reader

→ Author’s Note: Requested this from another writer (that’s also really cool), and decided to also write my own version. No specified version of Ock, pre and post evil versions are mentioned.

→⚠ Warnings ⚠: unethical science,

→ Fandom: Unspecified

→ Genre: Headcanons

→  Pronouns: They/Them

The Backstory:

You were a scientist who worked on studying the organic matter samples Colonel Jameson had brought to earth. Unfortunately, one of those samples was capable of a lot more movement than originally believed.

Long story short: Some of it bonded with you, you quit soon after due to not wanting anyone to get suspicious then started working at Oscorp.

Pre Tentacles:

He, and almost every other co-worker, is a little bit curious about the fact that you quit your last job to work at Oscorp but drops the subject after the mention of an NDA (which wasn’t true)

Notices you talking to yourself a lot, but doesn’t question it much. Most of the scientists he works with have an odd habit or two.

You totally slip up and call yourself 'we' in a conversation, which he does bring up

"There's a perfectly reasonable explanation if you give me enough time to think of a lie."

On to the actual dating

You guys keep it on the down low and by that I mean absolutely nobody knows. He likes privacy

His love language is talking about his experiments and asking you about yours (and physical touch but that takes a while)

The symbiote makes the relationship difficult, especially because he doesn't know about it

You don’t ever tell him about the symbiote, the symbiote speaks for itself (literally, and to a disastrous extent)

He takes a while to process it, but once he does he shares his work on his tentacles

He tries not to think of the moral implications of the whole situation because he loves you and knows you wouldn't do harm intentionally (he is wrong)

Post Tentacles:

Ok so in most versions Otto goes missing for a brief time after the accident™

So what happens in this brief time?

Chaos. Pure chaos and fear

Not only are you distraught and angry but your symbiote also formed an emotional attachment

Absolutely no one gets a break. Criminals, civilians, co workers, Norman even Spider-Man

The streets are filled with nothing but fear and it stays like that until you get your Otto back

At which point:

Yay, evil power-couple time!

I mean what did you expect, you’re the host to a symbiote that eats people to survive and likes to commit crimes; there is almost nothing he could do that you either 1) haven’t already done or 2) had to literally fight yourself not to do

He changed after the accident, and it reminds you of when you first bonded with your symbiote. You try and be patient, knowing that he's still the same person, just with a different attitude and outlook on life.

With some communication skills being flexed, the relationship works out well

He also gains a new thing to be mad at the world about (Tabloids keep calling him a monsterfucker and so does your Symbiote)

It's that whole Roger and Jessica Rabbit thing except no one knows who's Roger or Jessica at any given moment.

You keep working at Oscorp to keep suspicions low and provide insider information

Yes, the suit makes you look very good - now do you want to be part of the Insidious Sinister Six or not?

You don’t want to fight Spider-Man head-on most of the time (much to the Symbiote's chagrin) so you agree to work with them, but not be on the team.

Anyway you end up kicking ass and now half the team is scared of you (Much to the Symbiote’s delight) (remember that episode in the 90s show were Venom Spider-Man almost kills Rhino and Shocker? Yeah you do something like that)

His ego may be nearing the size of the sun, but even then he’s slightly scared of what would happen if your symbiote gained full control. (Your symbiote likes him so his nerves are good, but still makes sure nothing happens that affects your memories)

Speaking of which he wants to do some - totally not evil because he loves you- experiments revolving around the Symbiote

Overall, the relationship is wholesome, if not unconventional.

[amysgiantbees]

I think all interpretations of Mystra in Baulder's Gate 3 are valid and I'm not trying to take any away from anyone. Especially since stories of abuse and abusers can obviously be incredibly personal. However, I see people often painting her as either actively villainous and malignant or as the victim of Gale. Again, I think that's valid, but I see her as not quite in the middle - I believe there's no ethical way for a god to have a relationship with a mortal, like a boss or professor is always going to have an unethical relationship with a worker or pupil so she's still in the wrong - but still somewhere between the two extremes.

(Side note: I wish the game had in game books or something with more of the lore from DND that it was sticking to. They play fast and loose with DND lore (valid it's quite frankly convoluted), but Mystra and Gale's dynamic can be really affected by that. It would just give a bit of clarity.)

Firstly, like I said a god can't have a romantic relationship with a mortal and that be healthy. They will always have more power, socially, physically, etc. They have followers they can turn against you; you've heard about them your whole life and likely worship them; they can smite you. It's like trying to date Jesus there's no way for that to be normal. People literally thought for a while that Gale was wearing a matching earring with Mystra until they realized he was wearing the equivalent of a cross. However, that is still a reminder he wears of how as a wizard he’s irrevocably linked to her. That's why Gale is so insecure in game. Why he wants to be more powerful to be worthy of you. Why if you're in a relationship he's always asking what you need, "how can I help?" "Is something on your mind, you can always unburden yourself with me?" "Anything I can do for you, consider it most enthusiastically done". Mystra set an impossible standard that he was literally incapable of meeting and is haunted by.

Mystra is tricky with relationship dynamics because she has a precedent of not leaving all her lovers’ mortals. "Gale's folly" as he calls it, to be her equal, is not so wild an idea with Mystra. She helped the god Azuth become a deity and he was initially one of her mortal lovers. Although, Azuth isn't one of her lovers now and, they technically did not even become equals he is her subordinate. You understand where he got the idea however, and how he thought it could work. So, Gale is ambitious and arrogant sometimes, but I would argue wanting to be equal with your lover, especially when she's done that before, is not totally unreasonable.

I don't know beyond the power dynamic, how you have a normal relationship with a god, a god who is your everything and you're temporary for them. She doesn't need to eat so his other skill isn't important and likely uninteresting to her. If he tried to give her a normal gift, there is nothing beyond something as big as the Karsus Weave that another lover or follower hasn't given her a million times over or she hasn't seen and experienced as she watches over mortals. Like he probably can't tell her about a book he's read without her already knowing all about it, depending on how omnipotent she is. By being with her everything else falls away, until there's just magic, just her.

Gale says "I sought to cross her boundaries" which is certainly a charged statement. He absolutely did cross her boundaries and should not have. Even if I believe Mystra is more in the wrong two wrongs don’t make a right. I also think Mystra's appearance plays into this feeling particularly violating to some people. People like to joke about her looking plain for a goddess, but she does look like a regular mortal woman. Women have a reputation as more often being the victims of things like boundary crossing and she looks like a typical victim, not an all-powerful goddess. For example, if she looked like Shar I feel like people would empathize with her less. Which is a clever mechanic to make Gale’s story opaquer both in the text and non-diegetic interpretations. Both the writers and Mystra could be using her form to make her more unassuming and less blatantly other from Gale. So, I really get how people see her as the victim here even if I disagree.

On the topic of charged statements Gale calls Mystra his "teacher". Mystra holds the keys to secret knowledge. She will literally always know more than him. In a way he will never stop being her student. He does use the past tense to refer to her being his teacher though. So, she isn’t actively teaching him, but it does add an extra uncomfortable element in the imbalance of power that already exists. I personally believe if the Spell Plague is a part of the BG3 timeline (although it’s dubious since no one mentions it) she most likely only started actively interacting and teaching him as an adult. So, she was more like his professor than teacher which does have less uncomfortable implications. Ex-student teacher relationships have a predatory feel to them due to the age of the student initially. Thus, ex-student professor feels less fraught. This grey area around the nature of their schooling relationship is one of the many reasons why giving up the crown is such a positive ending. He becomes a professor and protects his students like she didn't protect him. I think it's also telling that in the epilogue if you play as Gale, you get a letter from Elminster, another Chosen of Mystra's, who tells you he has been your teacher since you were eight. Which is certainly uncomfortable. Whether Mystra was his teacher as an adult or a child an agent of hers was his teacher then. Beyond worshipping her thus she had even more influence in his life from a young age, even if Elminster taught him of his own volition.

Another thing that reminds me of abuse dynamics is that Mystra gets Gale alone and away from you. In the Stormshore Tabernacle Mystra does not allow anyone to accompany Gale for support. It just reminds me of how abusers isolate you. I'm pretty sure Gale even has dialogue about how being her Chosen was isolating and did not make him popular. Which you could argue is not her fault how others react, or that it’s Gale’s personality, but I find it telling paired with everything else.

As I've said the power imbalance is severe. It is not necessarily quite as bad as people describe it though. From what Wikipedia tells me Mystra can't take Gale's magic away from him completely, a thing people often site as a threat she has over him and part of her abuse. "Mystryl had ultimate control over all magic and could shape it to her will, and she could withdraw a being's access to the Weave and prevent it from using spells of any sort, and in an even harsher restriction she could also prevent a being from using any sort of magic whatsoever if she so decreed. These conditions persisted until she removed them.

Mystryl could even deny deities access to the Weave, but she couldn't deny other gods the ability to grant their worshipers spells through prayer." She stopped this though as it says. Which admittedly isn't a firm reassurance that it won't happen again- it would still worry me - but apparently it just isn't a thing that she does anymore. Plus, it can be interpreted that she also isn't allowed to anymore because of Ao (the head god) banning it as it would count as interfering with her godly portfolio. Thus, she's not necessarily quite as tyrannical as people worry.

Mystra is attracted to great spellcasters, such as arch mages, like Gale and Elminster. She specifically seeks people who are ambitious and crave power. Everyone's met a gifted child that turns into a mentally ill, burnt-out, average person when they're older, I would say I'm one. I would argue that natural talent or being a child prodigy, like Gale, isn't enough to get her attention or at least keep her interest. Even sorcerers would have to work on control. You need a certain level of ambition and drive to keep being greater. So, this is kind of Mystra's folly. To keep finding ambitious young men, give them the ultimate confidence boost with your attention as well as the ultimate temptation of magical secrets you keep and then get surprised that not all of them fall neatly into line like Elminster. As Minsc says "Now I wonder if it was not done to hide them from Mystra, and the snares she sets for young prideful boys, hm?" This isn't to say it's okay that he crossed her boundaries but again like I said she shouldn't have sought him out in the first place. Also, I, a neurodivergent person, see Gale as one too. I can't imagine someone dangling everything there is to know about my special interest in front of me like a tease.

Gale being tempted by the magic that he couldn't use is understandably vexing because before this iteration of Mystra he would have been able to. Up until the fall of Neverall all powerful enough magic users were able to do the magic she now hides. As her wiki says, "she laid down new rules for all spellcasters, banning spells above “9th” level, limiting who had access to magic, limiting how many spells of each level could be held in the mind, increasing the time it took to cast spells, and forcing long periods of memorization or prayer each day to replace spells cast previously." Karsus essentially went and ruined it for everyone so I get why Gale would want to be an exception to the rule. Mystra loves him, why shouldn't she trust him? However, Karsus did kill her, so I understand why this is a hard boundary for her.

Mystra is a god. She has a certain amount of distance from all mortals. She knows that all mortals die. As seen in her dialogue if you play as Gale and talk to her in the Tabernacle, she must balance the weight of many lives over a few. When asked if she cares about lives you might take if you explode, she says, "Such eddies are unexceptional. Souls arrive and depart your plane with every tide, in circumstances just and unjust." As a god you must have a certain amount of distance from mortals, it'd drive you mad otherwise. It's also what you want from a god. They should understand the bigger picture and not get caught in the weeds. Gods should not experience empathy the way mortals do; they'd get overwhelmed or go crazy otherwise. I see this otherworldly attitude of hers in Elminster’s line "She would consider what she considers to be forgiveness." Implying that she feels things differently, more inhumanly. Mystra is a good goddess but incapable of being a good lover because of this. So, she entered a relationship with a mortal who worshiped her with the knowledge that she could never reciprocate those same feelings back, there would always be a distance. Which is an obviously toxic thing to do, and she should have known better, Gale isn't her first lover.

Mystra being bad at mortal emotions and empathy is seen in other dialogue of hers at the Tabernacle too. She tells Gale, "You were already worthy. What you lacked was patience". What is she trying to say with this? You were worthy of being my Chosen? He knows that he already was her Chosen so that wasn’t what he wanted. Is she saying he was worthy of godhood? I doubt she was contemplating making him a god. There's no deep sorrow coming from her like someone who was thinking of sharing everything with him - if Ao would even allow that. I believe it makes the most sense that she believes he just wanted more power. That would make the patience line coherent. She thinks he just rushed into finding something to make him more powerful instead of waiting for her to grant him more power. Her Chosen can use greater powers like Silver Flame after a while. However, this demonstrates her lack of understanding of his character. He didn’t entirely want more power; he was planning on giving the tome to her. I don’t even think he was even aware it was something he could use. He thought it was HER weave not a separate thing of its own. He mainly wanted to be her equal. Gale isn't hungry for power for the sake of it. He always wants it for a deeper reason. He wouldn't have been content just following in Elminster's footsteps, being an incredibly powerful ex of hers one day. He wants her to love him with all the devotion that he has for her. He isn't with her for power, or at least that's not the main reason. You see it with your TAV if you romance him, Gale falls madly and quickly in love with people, love is all encompassing for him. He’s strictly monogamous he isn’t interested in sharing someone with others. He's not content to just have a fraction of her heart and give her all his.

Mystra's distance from humanity and how toxic these relationships can be is seen in the story of her possession of Elué and their relationship with Dornal Silverhand. Done to create the Seven Sisters to preserve her legacy. Being Chosen is not some altruistic thing Mystra grants to the best magic users for a job well done, or at least it isn't just that. They also become her insurance if she gets killed again, which is what these children were for too. She loves her Chosen but they’re also tools to her. She possessed Elué to sleep with Dornal (assaulting him I would argue as they make a point to not tell him about the possession) which deteriorates Elué. Although, I've seen people say that she's had a lot of bad relationships with mortal men, I haven't read the books I'm just going by the wiki and Wikipedia, but admittedly I can't see anyone she's screwed up quite like Dornal and Gale. Although, like I've said I don't think any close relationship she has with a mortal would be healthy. The closest I got besides them was Sammaster. However, from what the wiki says it's unclear whether his downfall was Mystra's fault or if that was just Algashon's manipulation to get him to blame everyone but himself.  

I've seen people site that one way that their relationship is unhealthy is that Mystra is thousands of years older than Gale. Now depending on when and how she started interacting with him (this is where what I said about DND lore comes in, Mystra's death can change this whole timeline) this can absolutely be toxic. But an adult age gap, even thousands of years, isn't unhealthy I would argue. Once you reach maturity an adult's an adult. No one is up in arms about Astarion being 350. Also, Mystra maybe even tries to balance this. Her page on Wikipedia states that part of the power's her Chosen get is long lives, like Eliminster.  

Gale reports in the Tabernacle that he's never been nervous before but in Sharess' Caress he says that he's insecure and even gets Tara to leave the room when he changes. I think saying he never gets nervous might be a bit of postering on his part, but admittedly that's totally up for interpretation (as it all of this is). From Mystra's wiki "As a goddess, Mystra could shape change at will and mortals who saw her reported she changed constantly". So, a man with insecurities and a person who literally never needs to feel insecure could be fine but with all the other points is just another reason Mystra should never have instigated anything.

Mystra states in the Tabernacle that she has been feeding Gale's orb with herself. She is the Weave. She has been feeding herself to this void so Gale can live. Gale was feeding on the weave in the magical items he consumed, thus unbeknownst to him feeding on her. He then continues to do this through the spell Elminster performs just more directly. As people have pointed out she could have helped him anytime. But this comes as a massive sacrifice to her. He did unleash something that damages and threatens her. He also unleashed something that is likely traumatic to her. From the dev notes from her dialogue, she is still angry at Karsus for killing her. The crown of Karsus is what allows her to control the weave in him. It's a different type of magic as she states, like Shar's Shadow Weave, one she can't control without the crown only feed. So, she couldn't have stopped the orb before he got the crown. She could only help Gale feed it. Some people say she could have cured him right away, but I don't think that's the case.

The Karsite Weave is dangerous. As Mystra says "You've unleashed something that would consume all magic in existence". However, I've seen people compare Gale's fragment to the Spell Plague, which I think is a bit much. If he was allowed to live and keep feeding off her, especially with a Chosen's life span then it could be. But Mystra need only send someone to kill him or stop feeding the orb and he will erupt, and it will be all over. She continues to hold all the cards.

I do believe she maybe could have prevented this all in the first place. Gale states that reading the Karsus book was like a flare going up to her, also that she hears every spell (Another issue that Gale must feel watched and scrutinised every time he performs magic). I don't believe with this power that Gale could have easily researched and found the Tome of Gateways without Mystra knowing something about it. His research likely would have shot up flares like when researching Karsus. If she knows every portal that he creates or spell he makes she should have known something. Plus, Gale's fine with charisma but not great and it's not like he's proficient in deception. Either she was paying him ridiculously little attention (and in the final product of the game they are together until he finds the Karsite Weave so it's unlikely that she was ignoring him) or she had her own reasons for letting him go ahead. Which does seem unlikely considering how awful Karsus' Folly was for her but if it's true then it is obviously toxic to let someone you supposedly love risk themselves and then blame them for everything about it.

I don't believe Gale was likely a minor when Mystra started a sexual or romantic relationship with him. For one, she was probably kind of dead, depending on whether her DND lore is canon or if Larian have fudged the dates. Also, Gale states that he's had previous lovers before her. Which could imply that she never actively sexually groomed him as a youth. Or that he had lovers then her all as a teen. I don't think if she was grooming him, he would have taken lovers while it was happening though, as he states she's "a jealous goddess". Her reputation could have partially groomed him though, worship from a young age of this beautiful woman surely influenced him. She also could arguably have been not sexually grooming him but grooming him to be her Chosen. Furthermore, I know some people use the term grooming for all ages, but Oxford languages defines it as relating to minors. I think if you want to use the term grooming for any age because it fits better for you VALID! But I haven't been groomed so I feel more comfortable sticking to the dictionary definition and just using the term manipulation for when he's older.

Gale, like I've said is flawed. For one he's arrogant and ambitious. If you leave him unchecked, he will become a god of ambition. However, it is not that hard to turn him away from this. I love how all the characters deal with their circumstances differently. It makes them all feel unique and human. If you compare say Astarion who is also power hungry to Gale you see how power isn't that big of a deal to him truly, feeling enough is (power also isn't Astarion's true want, its freedom, but I digress). However, Astarion has multiple dialogue scenes where he argues his case for Ascension and disapproves if you tell him outright that it's a bad idea (or at least I'm pretty sure he used to, with every update I swear they change the characters approval/disapproval). Whereas Gale gets you to the bottom of the bookstore and is like Hey, sorry I've been depressed but what if I was God? There's no manipulation here, he's not trying very hard beyond hiding his intentions till then. He can be talked out of it easily too. He doesn't disapprove if you tell him outright no. I did neutral answers, including telling him to do what he wants, and it still ended with everyone reacting like I'd convinced him not to be a god. He brings it up again at the end. But there's no persuasion role to convince him. You're just like No Gale and he's like Cool. His blasé attitude certainly doesn't scream power hungry. He does need a good influence though. Left to his own devices with no help from you he would go through with godhood. But it’s not like he doesn’t try to surround himself with good people, like Tara, and do the right thing.

Furthermore, he doesn't want to become a god just for power. He wants to feel worthy, to feel in control. He wants to do good and help people. Which is an admittedly stupid thing to think. Gale is the one to tell you in act one that the gods can't interfere Ao won't allow them but under the bookstore he apparently believes now he's just built different. Gale bounces between moods. He can be suicidal then want to be immortal. Overconfident then anxious and insecure. Power hungry then chastising you for doing the same. I think it reflects how his quest is the least black and white, he's still figuring himself out. But he's not a sweet darling who has never done anything wrong (like bragging to Loroakan about his upcoming godhood) or truly power hungry. With the evil pixie lamp, he tells you that he did it for practical reasons and disapproves of you wanting to do it for power. Similarly, he doesn't want The Necromancy of Thay except to consume and destroy it. I think Gale stands on a precipice between extremes.

So, to wrap it all up. I don't think that Gale is some scheming abuser. He's certainly not a perfect victim but you don't have to be to deserve better. Mystra in turn I don't think is trying to hurt Gale. She likely doesn’t understand the extent of the damage she’s doing. I don't think she can properly empathize with him. She's a goddess first and a lover second as she always has been. Knowing this she should stop having close relationships with her followers. It's a lonely existence being a god but that's the price you pay for that kind of power. Mystra is absolutely the abuser and should have known better but she's certainly not evil. At least that's my two coppers about it.

[sunshinemunchkin]

Hey Mary 👋❤️🫂🥺

I missed you the most 🫶🫂

I have this idea since yesterday, living in my head and now I can’t get over it.

Benedict Bridgerton and Cinderella au (yes, cinderella is my favourite disney movie) 😳 actually I can just imagine him like he is so sweet, poetic and a gentle man. He would do everything for the reader.

I'm getting carried away now, sorry for rambling 🙈

ramble all you want jacky!! i’ve missed you too 🙈🥰 i put my own twist on it, and took it literally! hope you like it. just something to dust off the old writing skills. :))

benedict bridgerton is anything if not poetic. he’s complimented his way into a dance. your entire personality, appearance, and attitude captivated him the second you walked through the doors.

problem is… he has no clue who you are.

lady danbury throws the best balls of the season, if he says so himself, but god forbid the mamas hear him. however, she has imagination, he will credit her that. this ball in particular, is a masquerade ball. one complete with shiny masks, all of which gave him an unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach.

that is until you walked in.

your mask matched your dress in perfection. a dark pink to accentuate your lighter dress of the same shade. a blush, is that correct? perhaps madame delacroix would be proud of his remembrance of the various shades of pink and blue and how they were not all just pink and blue.

your eyes stared through him and he felt his heart drop as soon as you looked away. you didn’t titter or smile seductively at him. no, you, instead, lifted your chin higher, walking into the ballroom and looking around the room. like a predator, waiting for her prey. to which, he was more than happy to grant you with the satisfaction. lifting his own green mask to his face once more, he followed you inwards. into the lions den.

swarmed immediately by anxious mothers and their overeager daughters, he politely excused himself from them all, eyes locked in on you. you were in his sights, and when he was close enough, he let his hand graze your gloves wrist. you, of course, flinch backwards. “my apologies, miss. however, you caught my attention since you entered. would you be so kind as to share a dance with me?”

you in all your glory, grinned, taking the hand outstretched to you. “it would be my pleasure, my lord.” he grins, the song (some waltz benedict notes in his head for later so he can ask francessca the title as he should like to remember this moment forever) begins, the dance floor fills up quickly, you and benedict at the center of it all.

throughout the night, you dance with the man until your feet hurt. spinning until you’re seeing stars, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. that is, upon sharing a lemonade outside with the man, you hear the twelve chimes.

benedict is mid laughter at something you’ve said, he’s taken his mask off, you not being able to bring yourself to do so. however, you do leave your shoes on the sill. unethical and you can practically feel the mothers commenting on such a blatant disregard for societal standards. but the man beside you doesn’t seem to mind. you get the sense that he has been in your shoes, not literally of course. but in the way that he doesn’t care what society thinks of him or what he does.

“you really are too much, where did you say you resided?” you smile around your glass, sipping gently and leaning on the railing. “i didn’t.” he hums, hip jutting out as he examines you. you feel warm under his gaze. about to answer, the clock’s bell rings loud in your head from inside the house, your blood rushing cold.

benedict catches onto the unsettling contortion of your face. “is something wrong?” you look back at him in horror, and a tint of sadness. “i’m- i’m so sorry. i must be going. i did not- i did not notice the time, it is late for me. a thousand apologies.” youre stammering over your words, rushing out of the house, calling back once more. “i did enjoy my time tonight, ben!” he smiles confusedly, but smiling nonetheless.

a heavy sighs casts over his chest, leaning his arm on the railing, his fingers knocking into your shoes that you’ve left behind. he takes them gingerly in his hands, turning them over to examine where the soles of your feet pressed into them and wore them black inside. how the heel was chipped on the outside, and how a couple gems were missing.

they were we loved. something he didn’t think was possible by members of the ton. he couldn’t think of any time where the girls he knew and grew up with wore a pair of shoes to the brink of their decay. not even his own sisters. but you? you either loved these shoes the most, or they were one of your very few pairs.

“i do relish a good puzzle.” he mumbles to himself, the pink gems grazing over his fingers as he awaits the end of the night, so he can begin his search for you tomorrow.

[pseudowho]

Hi! It’s the anon who had trouble liking her brother's friend. So update! After I sent that ask in, my parents came to notify me that they would be staying over for two weeks. (perks of going to an international university is that for thanksgiving break they give 2 weeks for students who have to travel.) Anyways, I was post shower and tired and wearing gray sweats and a pink alpha male shirt (I know the most attractive thing a woman could wear) but I was sitting on the couch drawing and listening to my favorite podcast that i’ve been nagging him to listen to for a bit. After he got inside from being out with my brother he sat down with me and we listened to the podcast and blah blah blah. Later that night he sleepily confessed to me and obviously I said yes.

For the next few days he was amazing. We just, Clicked. That’s the best way I could describe it. Anyway me and him were canoodling (thank you for teaching me that word) in my room and my brother passed by the doorway. he got me to the other room and scolded me (it was basically this, excuse if it sounds bad i don’t speak cis white men that well) “He checked in on you two times yesterday and i knew something was up. Turns out you can’t pull so you just whore around with my friend and make him all soft and shit.” I waited for him to leave before I cried. I was comforted by my now boyfriend and i can’t help but feel like it’s my fault for me and my brother's relationship to be ruined. I want to be on good terms with him and I know the workload at his uni is a lot and stressful but I’m not sure if it’s just him being stressed or I actually did something. Could you give me some advice at all? Thank you so SO much for listening to my mini rant!!

You surely don't need to tell me you're in no way in the wrong here, and that your brother is entirely in the wrong?

Not only that, but all it took for your brother to call you both 1. WORTHLESS AND UNATTRACTIVE and 2. A WHORE was him not having control over you.

Really stop and think. Really, really stop and think. You are asking me to advise you on repairing your relationship with a man, a grown man, a grown man who would like to control you by controlling who falls in love with you, and when he doesn't get his own way, calls you a whore who is unable to attract someone.

It would be unethical for me to advise you to repair anything with this man.

As I said in the first Ask, you have the right to both happiness and falling in love with someone who falls in love with you. You have done nothing wrong. Nothing nothing nothing.

Your brother has had has to sort his own maturity and rampant sexism out. And that's not for you to fix.

It's not your job to fix men or to diminish yourself to not 'encroach' on them.

Good luck. I'm so happy for you. I hope you enjoy your new boyfriend. I'd advise him what your brother said to you; sadly it may be that your brother respects the man you're with more than he respects you.

My personal opinion is that we should tie your brother to a chair, and we stand there with baseball bats, and we thoroughly interrogate his feelings about women.

Love,

-- Haitch xxx

[xexiar]

Keep Watching. 45

Ch44 Ao3

Note: Recently moved to my first place and slowly improving my mental health. Updates will be coming in slowly before I can return to weekly updates. Hope everyone is doing well.

....

As I stepped into Midoriya’s home, I couldn’t help but notice a few things. Besides it being small, it also seemed almost empty. From how I don’t see any picture hanging or place around the sitting area. What was display was the dishes that they had in a cabinet. Even some flowers. And with what Midoriya had informed me, I was expecting to witness a second person. But even they were nowhere to be found.

Midoriya did come across a note on the table. The way his lips made a sudden frown before smiling left me questioning what was going on here. Am I even allowed to ask? After how he was outside, I was very confused. From what I did witness how he behaved in class and the few moments in public, he didn’t cry out of nowhere. In fact, it was like his smile just disappeared the moment we stepped off the train. Maybe I should question Bakugo, from how he reacted to Midoriya’s outburst.

“Sorry, but it seems mom was called in for a temp job.”

“What’s a temp job?” Before long Midoriya just went about trying to explain, all while giving me a tour of his apartment. That was until we reached his room. Seeing the sign on his door was somehow adorable. Was this something most people our age do? And when stepping inside his room, it started to make sense why I thought he was All Might secret love child. “You truly do idolize All might. Perhaps a little too obsessive, but now it makes sense why you have similar move sets.”

“Yeah,” I watched as Midoriya rubbed the back of his head, while looking towards his desk. “It’s not too bad. Is it?” I shook my head as I started to look around at the All Might posters. “This isn’t everything, but there’s only so much I could display.” For some reason, I couldn’t help but notice the hint of his tone dropping when he said that. I wonder what that was about.

It’s when I made my way to his desk that I spotted a similar figure I used to have. I went to touch it, but my hand was quickly slapped away. “Am I not allowed to touch anything?”

Midoriya pointed at the figure. “Just not that one.”

“I see.” So, I just went back to looking at everything. It’s then that I took more notice of the many books and binders that litter his room. Some were scattered on and around the desk, while others were also housed on shelves at the opposite wall. “Did you read all of these?” I hesitated to pick up a book, as I watched for any sign that I shouldn’t near them. But for some reason Midoriya didn’t even stop me. Instead, he went about to his tv setup, that was along the wall between the closet and door.

As I looked through the book I picked up, I was somewhat shocked at what was inside. This book was filled with detailed analogies about how quirks work. At that, this book seems to be one of the early versions of the series, with how some of information was wrong. I then went in search for the publication year and saw I was right. With curiosity getting the better of me, I went in search of the rest of his books. To my great delight, Midoriya had a fair collection of this series. “It’s not complete.” I looked up to witness he had wires and a weird red box like item in his hands. “They had long stop translating it from German to Japanese. I still can’t find the English versions.”

“How come?” I put the book back and went over to help Midoriya set everything on the desk.

“Most likely because I can’t afford it. Or the fact that these were written by some inhuman scientist committing unethical experiments. It’s like he just dropped out of existence with how suddenly his works were taken down and destroyed. It took me forever to find just these books. Aren’t they amazing?”

“If he was inhuman, how did he get away with all these books?”

“Based on a few articles I read about him, it was sometime during the war. At that, quirks were still so new and not much was known about this phenomenon.” After Midoriya went about explaining how to set-up the Natenx, he put everything inside a spare gym bag. That’s when we heard what sound like heavy locks being undone. Did his mom already come back from her temp job? “Shit.” I watched as Midoriya locked his door, and then opened his sliding door window. “How good are you at climbing walls?”

“Isn’t that your mother that just came home?”

“No time to explain.” He kept waving me over, and somehow his expression read desperation. What was going on? “Hurry up!”

I quickly rushed over and watched how Midoriya got on the railing and jumped up to grab the ceiling above us. What in the world? I just followed him, but I used my ice to get up there. With some work I saw Midoriya not only climb to the roof of the building, but also how he warned me to not set off any of the cameras. “What’s going on?”

“No time to explain.” He then pointed to the building behind us. “Can you use your ice to make a bridge to get over there?” I just nodded and went about using my quirk. Before long I followed Midoriya down the second building. We then started running to I have no clue where. It wasn’t until we were at a park that we finally stopped running. What also didn’t make sense was how he ran faster than the sports festival and training class. It was like he was a completely different person. At that, I was surprised how out of breath I was. “Sorry about that.”

I looked over to Midoriya as he slowly walked over to a bench. So, I walked over and sat down. “What was all that about?”

“It’s complicated. Kinda the reason I told you to keep your shoes on.” He then smiled as he got up. “Come on, we can take it easy as I walk you back to the station.”

…

When we got to my place I was not surprised to see that mom wasn’t home.  I was somewhat taken aback when I noticed a note on the table. Reading it let me know she had stepped out to go to the store. Based on a few other details in the note, she wanted to properly celebrate me getting through the sports festival and also getting into UA. Now that I think about it, things have been feeling off.

I looked over to Todoroki and wonder how would mom react to him being here. For starters he was an uninvited guess that I didn’t tell her about. Along with being the person I lost to during the festival. There’s a chance mom won’t be too happy to see him. So, it would probably be best if they didn’t cross paths yet. “Keep your sneakers on.”

After seeing Todoroki off at the station, I pulled out my phone and texted mom that I would be home soon. I started heading over to the tattoo shop, since it was nearby. As I walked in is when my messenger went off. When I looked it was mom. “Is there a reason you tracked dirt over my clean floors? And was there someone else with you?”

Shit. Maybe I should have thought that through, but it’s too late. “Sorry mom.” With that I rushed the rest of the way to the tattoo shop. When I got there, I was somewhat confused to see a few soldiers walking out. I think I was more confused by the amount of soldiers, than the fact it was soldiers. Especially in full military uniform. I wonder what that was about.

[ENG] “Yo, Splits!” My attention quickly shifted to the entrance, and I spotted Mickey. “Just the guy I wanted to see.” I rushed over and was escorted inside. Something about this felt different, but I tried to not let it get to me.

[ENG] “What’s up, Mickey?” He just led me into Sydney’s office. In there the twins went about explaining how they were leaving for a mission. [JP] “That’s so cool. Where are you going and for how long?”

“We can’t say much, but we should be gone for about 2 to 4 months. Nothing too serious.” Mickey then handed me an envelope, that seem to be very heavy. “You up for a few deliveries these next few weeks?” I looked between the twins before agreeing. “That’s half your pay upfront. We need you to do your usual in delivering documents to various addresses. Some of which are near UA. Think you can handle that?”

Sydney then started to explain to me exactly what was going on. The deliveries were for other agencies to be informed about the upcoming rotations. “Rotations?” She then went off about how typically it’s a few volunteers who have to test for any security weaknesses at the major agencies. Mickey explained how it’s not only for security but also to test out new recruits.

“Don’t forget how the volunteers aren’t allowed to use their quirks. Since we are always updating quirk detection every 3 months. But everybody jokes how nobody can break in without a quirk.”

“Because it never fails. For the last 10 years nobody has past rotations.” I watched as Sydney shook her head before looking back at me. “This is where you come in, Splits.” I point at myself. “Amy is still impressed that you found a way into her bar when there’s no obvious entrance. Which makes you perfect for this.” “It’s also why we were allowed to pay you more than extra for this job.” I looked over to Mickey as he handed me a few maps. “All you have to do is get into each of these buildings and place a packet on the head of the company’s desk. Super simple.” They went on in detail about the job before I remembered about the whole tongue-piercing thing I wanted to talk to Mickey about. “No problem, Splits.”

[tin-can-iron-man]

I posted 984 times in 2022

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Longest Tag: 139 characters

#victor: also i'm so fucking sorry it tried to marry you i want you to know that was it's own issues i didn't come to that conclusion at all

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

113 notes - Posted February 28, 2022

#4

I always find the reaction between MCU Wanda and 616 Wanda in universe to be so interesting because 616 Wanda is a hero who is condemned for falling to her emotions and reacting to trauma poorly but MCU Wanda is still declared a hero, in universe, and is literally treated as "baby girl who can do no wrong" by literally every superhero that meets her. I just find it so interestingly fucked up that 616 doesn't get to be excused the same way MCU does in any regard, including in universe. When she has tried 10,000 times harder than Wendy ever has.

Edit: hey this post was made before MoM and I'm specifically talking about the difference between COMIC Wanda (the REAL 616) and MCU (aka earth 199999 (DESPITE what the movies may tell you)). Because I know people are now going to be confused for a hot sec.

124 notes - Posted April 15, 2022

#3

Anyway Im3 was fucking right in not having the mandarin be the legit villain of the film because it was 2013 and having Tony Stark, a rich white American billionaire, have his biggest enemy at the end of his trilogy be "Asia all along" sucks ass. im1 and im2 had asian enemies in it (the "ten rings" in Afghanistan and Vanko, respectively) but they were ultimately about rich people (and usually rich white people) being terrible. Which, in my opinion, was the better option.

In im1 and im2, the main antagonists that pull the plot along are other rich white billionaires who throw money at their problem (Tony) with unethical rich person means. (Hammer hires Vanko with the intention of using him as a way to get to Tony because he's petty as well as using him to further his own military business by selling Vankos inventions under his name) (Stane makes shady deals and puts Tony's weapons up on the black market (which, by the way, what happened to Wanda and Pietro was either a result of Stane's shady deals that Tony was unaware of (Tony was also almost blown up by a Stark branded missile! That he DEFINITELY did not sell! He made the arc reactor so that the shrapnel in his heart wouldn't tear it to shreds!), or US military shittyness, something that Tony was uneducated on, learned about, and immediately, as in literally the second he could, when he was literally supposed to still be in a wheelchair, called a in-person press conference and shut down his weapons program, and immediately became one of the most anti-military characters in the MCU (like in the avengers, when he got real angry about being referred to as soldiers).

Killian isn't a good character, he's doesn't have a particular compelling origin story and wasting the foundation of AIM in the MCU on him sucks. Yes. But he's the last in the list of Iron Man villains that make sense in terms of Tony's personal turning over a new leaf. Stane and Hammer (and Vanko to a degree) are exaggerated versions of Tony's own personal flaws, the things he has to keep in check about HIMSELF. And in that sense, Killian is too. Killian is, if looking in a mirror, an exaggerated version of Tony's desire to be acknowledged and accepted by the people he loves, not being able to take rejection well, and being a risk taker, blown out of proportion. (Tony does deeply crave the affection of those he loves but he doesn't think he naturally deserves it. And while he can be reckless it typically starts and ends with himself. The very last thing Tony would do is, say, start human experimentation (on anyone besides himself) on something known to be dangerous). Killian is impulsive, vindictive, dismissive, self-centered and incapable of reflecting on himself in a meaningful way (basically just any "nice guy" guy on Twitter). He got so butthurt about a single night he dedicated the rest of his life to trying to get back at Tony about it (REAL big "nice guy" on Twitter vibes). He's not well written, he's not even that fun. What makes him interesting, though, is that Tony was kinda all of those things too. (Before his time spent with Yinsen, before Iron Man, before the Avengers).

Tony has never been as bad a Stane, or Hammer, or Killian. But thematically their characters are all "this bad thing about Tony pre-Afghanistan taken 12 steps further."

I don't know I'm just saying in my opinion I think it was better for Tony's main villains to be exaggerated caricatures of himself over using the Mandarin. And that they were right to save a character like the real Mandarin for Shang-Chi where they could be explored and used narratively in a proper manner.

138 notes - Posted April 12, 2022

#2

Not too get into it unprompted but I have a theory from the Quintin Reviews Victorious Videos and Yvette Nicole Brown's acting career that I now completely believe that Community takes place within the boundaries of the NSU

224 notes - Posted March 31, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I feel like most of us can relate to this at this point

436 notes - Posted May 2, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[sincelastsession]

I think what hurts the most is that I have love for him and I see his love for me. Everyone has told me he was wrong...and he was. He probably still is. He is probably sad and angry. I'm sad and angry. I feel like I screwed up. I feel like he screwed up as well though. I don't understand why I held myself accountable for whatever I did that hurt him. I don't understand why I fawned. I don't understand why he couldn't understand me. I was getting there. I didn't need him to treat me like sex needed to bed had. I understand he misunderstood me. I'm not like him. He seemed to want me to act like someone I'm not.

Even if I did tease him. A woman teasing a man is not thing she needs to apologize for. "Oh I'm so sorry I turned you on and you assumed I immediately was wanting to jump into sex.

Romance exists. Tact exists. Being a fucking man and being brave enough to admit that you're a very wrong fuckface and I'd love to call him an idiot but he's not stupid.

He didn't like my nature that made him feel like he couldn't be himself. All I asked was for my boundaries to be met with understanding and to be respected.

It hurts because sex is not everything in a relationship. Not everyone in a relationship has sex and not everyone in a relationship needs it to be happy. I don't think it would have been sex less once I was comfortable. I was looking forward to it. But I kept getting turned off.

What makes me angrier is that when he actually shuts the hell up and just doesn't bring up sex and talks to me about other things I find that attractive.

He had a problem with me bringing up other partners and even Travis my chosen brother. He had a problem with me talking to other people other than my therapist about how things were going. He was so worried about me talking to Travis about how something inappropriate he did because I didn't know how to articulate what to say to him about it. "I don't want him to think I'm some creep" Did he think about how I felt or how I thought it was odd to want to show me his dick even though I said no. That's I believe some form of harassment.

I chose to be kind to him today. He'd apologized for making me cry. "Hope your day is good, didn't mean to make you cry" I began to call him to accept his apology but then I said "Thank you for the apology" "But I think I need to process therapy so we can have a chat tomorrow I believe that will be a good time to talk."

I don't want to talk. I hate him and I like him at the same time but I know it wouldn't end well. It would be like self harm. I'd hurt him too. I'd break his heart.

I didn't want to admit to him I'm not over my ex. But why does it matter? I'm poly. I can be in one relationship and grieve another and date other people. That doesn't make me unfit to love someone or unethical.

I'm so conflicted feeling.

I want Matt to shoosh me. I want his domination and affection. I don't want him to be busy. I don't want to be alone. I'm tired of being alone. I've done that most of my life.

I want my ex. I miss him in my life as well. I miss what we had. I am so mad at him for fucking that up. I don't know how to explain it other than when I first met him and spent time with him I felt I knew him from somewhere, another time, another place, some weird shit like that. I can't shake any of if even if he's acting like a twat.

I'm not so excited about Hannah. She's not terrible so far but I don't even know if I want her in my life right now. I don't know how to explain.

The person I wanted most in my life is dead. I can't even remember his voice. I can't remember how the guitar sounded when he played. I will have to go listen to Coldplay Yellow and Nirvana and Hendrix and Marvin Gaye now. That was love. It was young love but it was real.

[beardedcreatorcreator]

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[mylawcitrus]

Updates

I took a blood test this morning. We had very little to eat. My buddy sent me 50 bucks, I did the test, stopped by the bakery at the corner of my house and ordered a classic ham and cheese thing with orange juice. And that probably made a huge difference in how I'm feeling. The test was because my doctor thinks I'm having vitamin deficiency, and she's probably not wrong. I don't eat very well and barely go out, which my dad will always remind me that's necessary because the sun makes you process vitamin D.

Then they did something downstairs at the condo, they changed the electricity grids which were many years old to more modern ones. It took like 6 hours, can you imagine? But I'd been watching Bloomberg and stuff, I think I stopped because it was all a bunch of crap that they were talking about, at some point the journalist interrupted the commentary on Gaza to say "I have to come back to a point because we are a financial network after all, how is that going to impact the numbers" and I was just so fucking done, slept for 3 hours, went to draw blood, ate something, bought a pack (I spoke a bit about the harms of cigarettes and it just piles up as "one more controversy from Ivo"), and then I woke up and everything was uper boring, and still is, but I think there's like, people pissed about soccer or something.

Except that I'm wondering and wondering, and I decided that although I don't have many options in seeking out friendships and stuff like that, I wanted to come back to a certain network, and I had a moment of assessment and thought that they all could end up harming my mental health... but I came back anyway and I still have to figure out why people are so instantly triggered by my presence on there. It's funny because I know that like many other networks, there's a huge trolling userbase and a few people who are trying to roll with it, avoiding the bad actors, maybe calling someone out, but there's been a bit of misunderstandings and mystery, to be frank, around how my country sees this network, which I believe it just doesn't... so I wonder how the hell people would be informed that I'm on there. Doing nothing, by the way. There's a whole list of spammers, and eventually someone with a creative username that I may wanna try to approach, and this one person added me, but now it's like: "what's he gonna do?" -- but not the way you think, cause it feels like there's gonna be like 3 cars parking on my street if I'm not wearing pants, and I'm like... is this what Nazis are doing now? Cause it has come down to this in discourse but we have to start noticing that the climate changes and we're not supposed to live scared...

If I could be on Boo, the network I'm advocating for, I would. But they hacked my phone (the frontal camera works, I've seen it come back many times, it's a hack indeed, but if it's not then it's just sad) and I can't verify to talk to more people my age... so everybody's out there calling me all sorts of things but what I'm actually doing is producing high quality pedagogical content, and getting out of the most exploitative, unethical work environment of my life...

So I'm wondering if people are gonna be fucking supportive, because this shit isn't funny. The level of manipulation of narratives, it's so ugly, and these are people who don't even speak English and wanna say they know shit about my life better than my therapist, my parents, my close friends...

Worst part is to think that I can't talk about my ex's nipples, this is just pure insanity lol sorry bro, I sucked on them for 10 years, youo didn't, are you jealous? lol bunch of pieces of shit, cause when it's a girl they got to bang they're cool with me suffering... when I write a sad song about me being happy in the past I don't have the right to have happy memories, even if it's explicit that I'm not happy...

What a legion of fucking losers...

[night-dark-woods]

ID. OP images are screenshots from Arkady Martine's review of Traitor. the reblog image is an excerpt from one of the Masquerade books itself.

review excerpt:

But here’s my real criticism of this book: I don’t buy the seduction of the Masquerade. And I think if this book fails, it’s there: in that its empire is too easily read as undesirable. As profane, unethical, fundamentally wrong. It is really overtly evil. It punishes sexual “deviants” with mutilation and death. It murders children callously. It inflicts plague and withholds vaccines. It lobotomizes its own emperors for the sake of convincing its populace that the emperor is just. Most of all, the Masquerade is a eugenicist empire: it is explicitly founded on not purity of bloodline but on purification of bloodline, on making people useful to it. It makes people: it breeds them carefully, it indoctrinates them through schools, it uses drugs and operant conditioning to transform their minds and make them into automata tools. It commits every atrocity that a modern Western reader recognizes as abhorrent. This is a problem. It is a problem because we are asked, as readers, to believe that there are reasons besides blackmail that a person would willingly become an agent of the Masquerade. We are asked to imagine that the Masquerade is a beautiful machine.

Dickinson tries, I will absolutely give him that credit: he knows he has to convince us. He tells us through Baru’s own noticing that the Masquerade gives literacy and prosperity and those selfsame vaccines and that when a person or place has been subsumed, it’s probably not all that bad to be a part of the Masquerade – and then he undoes it all again, by showing us that in-Masquerade people are engaged in a constant level of horrific policing of their neighbors for social sins. I cannot imagine being happy in this society. It is too awful. What it asks of the people within it is not sustainable as a society; it’s also too brutal and un-orthos for me to respond to it as something which is an entrapment and a promise.

book excerpt:

In our grand successes over the past century we have invented a monster called a middle class. Our predecessors pillaged the Ashen Sea, and now the people are accustomed to receiving that pillage. And they are accustomed to their innocence. If they learn what we do on distant shores to secure their safety and prosperity, I am certain they would hang us all. Not for the crime of what we did, mind! But for the crime of allowing them to know. Once I told a man in Commsweal Square that in our foreign provinces we still force women into reparatory marriages or sterility. He laughed! Not us, he told me, not us: those things happen elsewhere, they happened once, but not in our Republic today.

i think a memory called empire is good but that one time arkady martine said that the traitor baru cormorant was unrealistic because the empire committed too many open atrocities was so fucking funny. like girl let me tell you about a little thing called Britain

[fatuismooches]

HEY!! i saw ur post and recently i really wanted to read some fluffy with dottore and today i was thinking abt reader suddenly turning into a kid, i though it was cute :') if u don't mind

♡ 𝐃𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞’𝐬 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐊𝐢𝐝 ♡

synopsis: An experiment gone wrong leads from one thing to the next, and you find yourself turned into a child. Now, how will your lover react?

includes: dottore w/ gn! reader

notes: HEY! Thank you for being my first request <3 I hope you like this as I love Dottore a lot, and tried to make it as fluffy as possible!

This is far from an optimal situation for Dottore. No, this is probably one of the worst-case scenarios for him. Why? Because he does not go well with kids, at all. And now that his lover somehow turned into one of them? Well, he’s at a loss of what to do with you.

It probably happened during one of his experiments gone wrong. He frequently conducts a lot of crazy and… unethical assessments, conjuring up the strangest of colors of liquid in vials that does Archons knows who what. Of course, as his lovely partner and most favored assistant, you are required (whether you like it or not) to oversee and be his right hand during such trials. It’s not so bad though - you get to hear his maniacal laugh, which turns out to be oddly endearing after a while, when something goes right. Perhaps sneak in a smooch or two as well.

But there are times when the experiments go horrifically wrong and even end up blowing parts of the lab up. By this point, you’ve gotten used to it, and even find it funny to see the other Harbingers’ annoyed faces, especially Pantalone’s. What you were not expecting, however, was to have a few vials of unknown contents flung at you by the impact of the explosion. You initially thought it was some samples of blood, but… never mind, your ability to think like an adult is dwindling quite quickly.

Dottore coughed and readjusted his mask, waving the remaining smoke away as his clones cleaned up the mess. Another failure was simply another step to success, he thought. (It was you who had kept repeating this when he sometimes lost his temper over experiments.)

But the familiar buzz was missing your normal sneezes as you tried to read out all of the data and results. He looked over and did not see your familiar cute face, scrunched up as you rubbed dust out your eyes, reading out from the clipboard. A prick of annoyance spiked through him; where were you and why you were not with him? Dottore moved to call out your name but nearly tripped on something on the floor. He was about to curse but the words died in his throat at the sight of mini you.

You were nearly drowning in all the oversized clothes that had become too big for you, stumbling out of your now massive shoes, onto Dottore’s leg. Instinctively, he tried to shake you off, but you only clung tighter and wailed. All you could hear was something something, “prototype”, blah blah “idiots didn’t put it away probably” and a lot more confusing language. Dottore ran his fingers through his hair. Well, shit.

Dottore has to muster every ounce of patience in all of his bodies to handle this. He doesn’t want to be bothered by your childish antics, but at the same time, he can’t bring himself to trust anyone else with you. Honestly, for some strange reason, Dottore feels very off and more irritable if you’re not right there by his side. It perplexes him and annoys him a bit too. Even his clones aren’t such a good idea because they aren’t too fond of kids either and instead awkwardly stand next to you. Even though he itched to continue his research, there was no way he was going to conduct deadly experiments with you bouncing off the walls. Furthermore, he had gotten used to your company and it was useful to have someone take notes for him (even though it was much more than that.) So instead, he puts his clones to work to create an antidote while he resigns himself to his room to do some paperwork.

He might take advantage of this, actually. Dottore is the kind of person who must know everything possible about you down to your exact blood type. Therefore, he is not above asking you questions that you normally won’t answer him due to embarrassment or whatever else. Probably writes what you say down in his notes and drops these facts on you at the most random points in time.

Secretly appreciates it when you make the most basic of compliments toward him even as a kid. Fuels his ego and will harass you with what you said when you’re back to normal. Also feels strangely nice that he knows you genuinely like him so much that even your kid form is saying so.

Has to hide all of the gruesome books and notes from you. He doesn’t want to explain any of that to you and rather not see you cry again. Being with you has helped him to understand positive human emotions better but he’s still quite at a loss since you’re a kid now. He might try to engage in a conversation with you, but I hope you’re a good talker because you’re going to have to do most of the speaking here. Eventually has his clones bring some candy for you because that’s what they like, he thinks.

It’d also be adorable for you to keep touching and squishing his face and hair. Kids like to touch anything they see, and nothing’s more interesting to you right now than unmasking Dottore’s face. He begrudgingly goes along with it, stiff as a board as you fumble with his mask and toss it to the floor, exclaiming at his unique red eyes. (Dottore’s a silent, unwilling participant in it who swears to get revenge on you later.)

Playing with his earring and flicking it back and forth, is yet another one of the things he puts up with. Makes it a personal note to get you one yourself so the two of you could match. When you ask questions, he unconsciously responds with a whole in-depth scientific response, only to remember that you had zero idea what he was saying. It was a habit of his.

If you somehow manage to get out of the lab and the other Harbingers see you, Dottore will never live it down. Childe now wants to read stories to you while the others are struggling to keep a straight face. Dottore has to drag you away. (They definitely bring up the incident later on and tell you what happened.)

If you remember what happened, don’t expect him to really apologize for his mediocre caretaking skills. However, he’s more than relieved when you’re back to normal. You’re the only competent person on the whole team and he needs you to carry out his goals, Dottore tells you. Nothing more beyond that and experiments, of course. (He is 100% lying. Secretly missed your witty remarks and greatly needs you to keep him on his toes.) Dottore also subtly takes more care in the organization of his lab, only for your safety. He really doesn’t want that happening again. He loves you, just shows in it his own Dottore like way <3.

taglist: @heyhazelnut101

[centuriantalevevo]

Scaramouche heavily defending Nonbinary! Reader

TW: Misgendering, transphobia, self doubt, slurs. Read with caution

ALSO FORGOT TO MENTION @strawbxrrytiger because you wanted to me tagged in a post i ever made WELL I GOT SCARA X ENBY READER DONE LMAOOO

Note: this will be using MY definition of nonbinary which may not be the same as everyone else's. Do not try correcting me as I'm using my own definition and my own experience and feelings of being nonbinary to make this, if you don't like it you can read something else or bear with it. I don't mean to sound harsh.

Scaramouche meets (y/n) and miraculously gets close to them.

At one point they trust him enough and finally come out to him about being nonbinary, he doesn't fully understand it at first so they explain it

"Basically, I'm neither a man nor a woman. I basically have no gender- you could call it null I guess. Non being not and binary being made of the things- these two things being man and woman. So; not made of two things, man and woman."

"Oh... So... you don't feel as though you're a girl exactly, but not a boy either. So does that mean you don't know? Or you genuinely just don't feel as though you're either gender?" "In a way. I do know, I know for a fact I'm not a boy or a girl. Whenever I'm referred to as a boy or a girl, it just feels very weird.. it's uncomfy. I dunno how to explain- like.. your skin crawling? Maybe a numb type of feeling?"

"So... you don't want to be called he or she?" "No, I want to be called by they, because that's what I am." "So... are you changing your name then?" "I already did. When I met you, I introduced myself with the name I go by now, and not my deadname."

"What's a deadname?" "A deadname is a name that a trans person went by in the past, your birth name after you change it to something else. It's generally really rude to deadname someone or expose someone's deadname and can even be dangerous. Deadnaming someone and it just being a GENUINE accident, and you instantly correct yourself; that's fine! That's acceptable because we all forget and we have to get used to change, same thing with pronouns. So if you accidentally call me the wrong pronouns the first few times, that's okay. Just correct yourself and move on, it's not too big of a deal until you deliberately do it on purpose." They explained and the harbinger nodded, "What if I hear someone call you the wrong pronouns?" "Correct them. If they ignore that and continue on doing it with absolutely no regard to what you said, do whatever you want. If they correct themself and apologize, all is good."

Scara was always a relatively fast learner so he picked it up pretty quickly and when he DID accidentally misgender them, he corrected himself faster than the speed of light.

He was the most supportive of everyone- surprisingly enough.

The issue was Dottore and the Tsaritsa. The tsaritsa just didn't give a shit and Dottore was Dottore.

Dottore found it stupid and refused to listen, but no one take him seriously when he says its not possible because remember he's a psycho doctor. Literally does unethical shit. So... yeah.

When Dottore first misgendered them, Scaramouche corrected him. But he rolled his eyes and didn't listen, and when he continued doing the same thing, Scaramouche almost beat his ass- he had to be held back.

He never really respected the Tsaritsa, but the moment she and her minions dismissed it and disrespected them over it, any form or respect he ever had for them was GONE. And he was this close to taking down a god.

He was always wary after that and WAS ready to throw hands with anyone who disrespected (Y/N) because of it. He's attacked multiple people for it.

He always makes sure to validate them and reassure them if he feels they are at any point feeling self doubt.

He actually got them a flag. They told him about the flag and stuff a long while back but thought he'd forget all about it.

He didn't.

He surprised them with one during Pride month.

They cried out of happiness.

He also got them the trans flag for Christmas!

He got them a "they/them" pin in case they wanted it

Scaramouche ACTUALLY went as far as to kill some of his subordinates because they dared to fuck with (Y/N)'s identity. Some subordinates misgendered them and he just fucking clapped them- the majority if the subordinates didn't dare to test them after that. The newer and cockier ones will try but they're shut down instantly. Be it by death or not.

He helps them get hormones if they want them, he helps them with everything he possibly can.

Considering his position of power and his money, he's able to buy them anything they need.

They want a binder? He can get that.

They want to get on hormones? He can get that

If the certain place (Y/N) lives at isn't accepting, he'll move them somewhere else, somewhere safe and accepting.

Put Scara in our world and he will have.... a ball to say the least.

Considering he's willing to kill, he'd probably annihilate half of the population if he finds who is transphobic and shit and who isn't.

Let him see the US government- I can promise the government will no longer exist after he's done-

America: exists, Scaramouche: Not today bitch

Suddenly America is the most accepting place in the world and has laws protecting the LGBT

I wonder who did that- did they have a change of heart? (Spoiler alert: no, Scaramouche just killed anyone who opposed him, making even the government afraid of him)

He borderline killed Dottore once for misgendering them and stuff.

As you can see, Scaramouche is incredibly protective and said trans rights at all costs

He's willing to commit war crimes for LGBT rights bro-

He'd love Scandinavia /srs

"Hey, Scara? Can I.. uhm... tell you something?" "Hm? What is it?" The harbinger looked up from some sheets of paper he was going over. "It's... really important... and I'm telling you because I really trust you..." They said and Scaramouche nodded, signaling to continue. "I'm trans, nonbinary specifically." They said and Scaramouche tilted his head. "I know what trans is, but what's nonbinary?" He asks as (Y/N) sits down in front of him.

"Nonbinary is... basically the lack of gender. Literally being not made of two things, man and woman. Non, not; binary, made of two this, these two things being man and woman." They explained, "So basically I have no gender, in layman's terms." They added and he nodded slowly, "So... that means you use... He? She?" He asked, and (Y/N) shook their head, "I use they/them. Gender neutral pronouns." "Isn't that... Isn't that plural though?? I'm sorry, I'm a bit confused." He said with a look of confusion and (Y/N) laughed a little.

"It's alright! Yes, they/them is plural but it can be singular... Say, you see someone drop their weapon, and you don't know the gender of the person... What woud you say? Saying 'he or she dropped his or her weapon' takes too long, and there's simpler ways to say it." They explained and Scaramouche thought for a minute, "They dropped their weapon?" He responded and they nodded, "Yep. 'Hey, THEY dropped THEIR weapon' 'My friend is pretty cool, I think you'd like THEM', there are a ton of examples for when someone uses they/them in a singular context. But a comment joke that nonbinaries make with people saying that it's plural is something like 'I'm actually 300 rats in a trenchcoat', or literally just any thing with a big number and a trenchcoat." They explained with a small smile.

"So, do you go by another name then?" "The name I told you when I first met you is the name I go by now. My deadname doesn't matter anymore." They told him and he blinked some, "deadname?" He asked, "A name that I no longer go by. The name your born with is considered your deadname when you change it. It's really rude to deadname people or reveal someone's deadname, hell it can be dangerous." They said, "Why would anyone even do that? What's the point? What do you gain from that?" He asked and (Y/N) shrugged, "Some people just wanna be horrible... There are transphobic people, there are people who hate us for simply existing." "If I find put anyone does anything like that to you, does anything transphobic, I WILL kill them. Very brutally, actually." Scaramouche said, his voice went threatening for a moment.

"There is also a completely separate thing called enbyphobia. Transphobia is just prejudice and shit against trans people as a whole but then we have enbyphobia." "Why?" "I'm about to tell you. Basically, some trans people don't even think nonbinaries exist. Some say they aren't actually trans, and are looking for attention or trying to be special. They call nonbianaries tenders. Trans tenders are an entirely different conversation for a different day." They explained Scaramouche nodded, "wait wait... People actually are prejudice against their OWN demographic?!" "Unfortunately... It's... it's a crack house sometimes, Unfortunately. Sometimes the LGBT community is... a shit show, to say the least. But that's just the loud ones. As they say, the bad ones are always the loudest." They answered and Scaramouche sighed, "of course.. no community is perfect."

The day passed but eventually Scaramouche asked another question that had been on his mind. "(Y/N)," "Ya?" "So... you're nonbianary and only want gender neutral word usage right?" He asked and they simply nodded. "So what honorific would you use? Instead of Miss, Misses, and Mister..." He asked and (Y/N) nodded, "Good question! I prefer Mix, that's abbreviated like M and X. But pronounced as Mix." They explained, "Alright... What about.. for example, I'm dating you. What would I call you?" He asked, trying to hide the small tint of red on his cheeks. "Um... I personally prefer enbyfriend. There IS joyfriend but I really hate that word, it just sounds really weird. You can also use partner, lover, significant other, stuff like that." They responded with a small smile. "And for family like they'd use... Sibling, or child? Or grandchild? Wait what about replacing aunt, uncle, mom, dad, niece, and nephew?" He asked, "Oh! Yeah, child and sibling. I also like demon spawn for comedic purposes. For replace mom or dad, I like nomi. I originally thought nobi but that might be hard for little kids to say. There's also ren, parent, I really like parental unit- once again for comedic purposes." They said with a little laugh and Scaramouche chuckled a bit.

"For aunt, uncle, niece, and nephew... I don't know, truthfully. One day I'll figure that out. Oh, for instead of God or Goddess, I like Goddex!" They added with a grin.

----

That's all I can think of rn forgive me- however Scaramouche x Nonbinary! Reader SUPREMACY!!!

[ratmonky]

Tangible Phantom

Word Count: 3.2K

Warnings: non-con, invisible smexy time, stalking, breeding, mild gore

AO3 Link

The internet was a magnificent invention of humankind. It made everything easier. At the same time, it was accessible to almost anyone and it brought people together.

There were so many things one could find by typing some letters on a browser and with a click of a mouse.

Whether it be cute animal videos you could share with your friends, porn to watch late at night as your fingers slid inside your panties beneath the sheets, or disturbing images of people who had or were taking their last breath. You could find it all on the internet.

Morbid curiosity led you to the furthest parts of the internet like on strange websites where you could find pictures of deformed bodies.

There wasn’t any explanation on why they had been deformed like that but their death cause was all the same, heart failure.

Although you weren’t anything more than a normal citizen, you felt like what you were doing was wrong. Looking at those images and scrolling down to see more of the distorted faces of what used to be people who had a family, a life, and goals that you would never know about should have been enough to make you click away. Yet, you always found yourself logging into your laptop every night to check if there were more.

It wasn’t illegal nor it was hurting anyone. It was just… unethical. Somewhat felt like you were feeling guilty of what happened even though you had nothing to do with any of these people.

Nevertheless, it made you wonder if you would feel the same way if those people were someone you knew. Or if it were you.

Pfft.

As if that would ever happen.

~~~

It was a late night when you were walking the same route to your place with your mind clouded by what to eat once you got home. The streets were rather silent at this time of the night, no cars passed or a single soul was outside, so the only noise was your footsteps that echoed in the empty street.

Although you were only about a full two minutes away from arriving at your place, you suddenly stopped in shock when you saw a dark figure sitting in the dark under the bridge you had to walk through.

Alone at night, standing stiffly in the dark, looking desperately down at your phone screen and then to the man, you considered turning back and walking to the nearest bus station. You could stay at your friend’s place again rather than take your chance to walk past someone who looked like a predator waiting for its prey.

You considered calling one of your friends and being on the phone with them until you arrived home. Decidedly, you called your friend’s phone but they didn’t answer. If it was them calling you, you would answer right away, they knew how you didn’t call anyone without a reason.

While the phone was ringing again, you kept muttering under your breath about how much you were going to yell at them once they answered you but they never picked up.

Your other friend wasn’t in town and you could never call your friend to ask if her brother could escort you to your place again, you only made everyone question your sanity when you asked for favors like that.

You made everyone around you uncomfortable, they think you were out of your mind. Why were you so scared of walking past a possibly homeless man?

This was why most of your friends hated you, this was why they didn’t answer your calls anymore.

Huffing in annoyance and disappointment, you put your phone against your ear to pretend to be on the phone with your father as you started walking again.

The man noticed you, you saw his head moving when the sound of your footsteps alarmed him of your presence, all of his attention was on you now.

You tried ignoring the instincts that told you to turn back and run away.

It was probably just a homeless man.

There was no way that he would try to do anything to you.

You were just overreacting like you always did.

You refused to acknowledge the man’s existence as you increased your speed to pass him as soon as possible and go on with your night like you weren’t already having a panic attack.

The man was doing nothing but watching you intently, he hadn’t moved.

Yeah, you were just overreacting before.

“Yes, I’ll be home soon, dad! I’m walking!” you started basically yelling, hoping that your acting was believable.

Maybe not.

The man got up, blocking your path.

Startled, your hand gripped tighter on your purse and you started yelling to your phone. “Dad! Can you come outside the building and wait for me?! I’m right around the corner once I pass the bridge!”

You were scared to look at the man. As if you didn’t notice him getting up, you ignored his presence and tried to walk around him but he stepped to the side to block your way again.

This time, your lips started trembling in fear, you actually were believing you were talking to your father. “Dad, I’m scared, please come get me!”

“I can see that you’re not on the phone,” a husky voice said. “Your phone screen is lit up.”

You shrieked upon him talking to you. When his hand reached for your face, you jerked away and took a couple of steps back.

“Don’t touch me!” you screamed, your eyes finally meeting his eyes that were sparkling with vicious intent. “I’ll call the police!”

Ignoring your threat, he took a step closer towards you which only made you panic more.

You looked for an exit. To your right was a concrete wall and to your left was the large sewer gate. Running past the man was impossible.

“Stay away from me!” You turned on your heels to make a bolt towards the sewers but the man was faster than you. He grabbed you by your hair and pulled your back flush against his chest.

You started to scream as you struggled in the man’s hold. It was barely midnight, someone would hear your screams for help.

Normally an attacker would chicken out if their victim was struggling and screaming this much but your attacker seemed to not have a care in the world if he would get caught or not.

As he started dragging you towards the sewer gate, you shook your body violently, kicking helplessly in the air and yelling on top of your lungs.

He started shushing you and clapped a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet while proceeded to drag you further inside the sewers.

This was the end, wasn’t it?

~~~

On a regular night, Mahito usually read his book to the sounds of the rats or the water splashing sounds in the sewers. The steady and faint noises were enough to lull him to sleep but tonight his peace was disturbed.

A woman was screaming for her life. Something he heard more often than regular since it was usually him who was the cause of their screams. This woman’s screams were echoing in the sewers, being muffled by something as a man’s voice kept shushing.

Out of curiosity, he put his book down and walked to the source of the loud noises.

It took him barely a minute to find you and your attacker. The man had you under him, his chest pressing on your back as he was hastily pulling his pants down.

“Oh, how amusing,” Mahito chuckled, getting closer to watch your face stained with tears.

He crouched right next to your face, humming cutely. “You’re quite adorable,” he said, his hand reached to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “Really my type.”

“Help!”

Your sudden yell made Mahito pull his hand back. Whew, you had startled him.

“Nobody will hear you,” the man assured with a breathy laugh, his hand rubbing guiding his cock between your thighs.

Mahito pouted his lips and tilted his head to the side. “It’s no fun when I’m left out, you know.”

The man was busy pulling your panties to the side.

“Please, please, please don’t!”

“Don’t ignore me,” Mahito furrowed his brows and tapped on the man’s shoulder.

You were still struggling under the man’s weight when he suddenly stopped moving. With a burst of an adrenaline rush, you pushed yourself up from the concrete and threw your attacker tumbling back.

Almost immediately you got up on your feet and swung your purse at the man, hitting him in the face with your eyes closed shut in fear.

The impact made a splash sound as if you had hit something soggy. What? Your eyes hesitantly opened and it took you a long moment to register what you were seeing.

“Wow.” Mahito stood beside you with a smile on his face. “He looks nice like that, don’t you think?”

You dropped your purse.

Your mouth opened to scream but what were you going to gain from it? You closed it back again.

It looked unreal, nothing like the photos you had seen online. You wanted to look away but you couldn’t.

“Heeeeyyyy~” Mahito stood in front of you, waving a hand to your face. “I don’t even get thanks?”

The man’s disfigured body and face were covered in blood. The sight was enough to cause trauma and make any normal person collapse on their knees, heaving. His body was twisted to the point you couldn’t tell if he was a human or not.

What you were seeing wasn’t human.

You couldn’t tell if it was a human.

Your brain disconnected it from your mind that he was a real, living, and breathing person only a couple of seconds ago.

The fact that you couldn’t even process what you were seeing right in front of you made you burst into a peal of hysterical laughter.

Mahito took a step back. “Ah, you’re one of those who goes insane…” He shrugged, watching you lose your sanity was fun too. His eyes landed on the panties which were halfway down on your thighs that you hadn’t even bothered to pull up and then his stare landed on your unevenly hoisted skirt. A grin spread on his face.

Your laughter died down quickly and sobbing replaced it. You couldn’t stop your tears. Your vision was getting blurry from your tears and you tried to revive your brain to think of what to do next.

Could you just leave this man here?

Even though he attacked you with full intention to rape you, it… it was wrong to leave him like this.

He was dead. Disfigured. Not human.

There was nothing you could do. Whatever caused this man to turn into this inhuman thing could have happened to you.

You felt a shiver run down your spine and up your shoulders. As if the cool evening breeze had hands, the chilly air caressed your skin.

A quiet sob left your lips and you lifted your hand to wipe your tears but stopped when something firm pressed on your back.

“You’re definitely my type,” Mahito snickered, pulling his hand back.

With a shriek you jumped forward, whipping your head around to look behind you. There was nothing.

You had to be going insane.

You put a hand against your forehead and looked around the sewers. The most logical thing to do was to leave. This rapist deserved to rot here, you didn’t care. You wouldn’t care. You knew you couldn’t care less.

“Heeey~~ I’m Mahito, your savior.” He poked your nose and you itched where he had touched you. “You should thank me for saving youuuu!”

Once you got home to your bed, you would browse on the websites to stare at disfigured humans like him. This was nothing. You had seen worse on the internet. You didn’t care.

Mahito crouched down to open your purse. He looked around your stuff and tried to find something that had your name on it but it was futile.

You weren’t going to wake up tomorrow and think about its face.

“Hey, what’s your name?” he asked.

No, you weren’t going to remember about this thing the day after tomorrow.

“Hellloooo~~ What’s your name?”

Definitely, you weren’t going to think about this thing whenever you closed your eyes.

“What’s your name?” Mahito put his hand on your shoulder. You reacted to his touch and flinched but didn’t answer him. “Ugh! This is the third time I’m asking, sweetheart.”

You were being paranoid, that was for sure.

It felt like ghostly hands were touching you.

“Let’s see how far we can go before you see me.” Mahito grabbed you by your shoulders and pushed you down.

Fear came rushing back and you started screaming. Something you couldn’t see had tackled you on the cold concrete. This wasn’t a figment of your imagination, this was real.

“You know, a friend of mine said that humans can see curses when they’re in a life or death situation.” His large hands massaged your shoulders as he spoke. “I wanna see if we can have fun together even when you can’t see me.”

Your breathing became uneven and you started struggling against the unknown force holding you down.

Mahito moved his hands to your shoulder blades and slid them lower until he grabbed you by your hips. You gasped when he pressed himself against you. “Oh, so you can feel this .” He slowly grinded against you.

Your hands balled up to fists and you pressed your forehead against the cold concrete. There was something on top of you, something firm and thick was pressing on you. You were rocking back and forth with a very familiar feeling of a cock on your ass.

Mahito’s grinding became harder to get a reaction out of you. He pushed his growing clothed erection against your ass to explicitly stimulate the movement of fucking you.

You bit your lips to hold back a moan. You hadn’t gone insane yet, there was something humping you. There was a small moment where you tried to move and crawl away from this entity but your body became frozen when you felt your skirt was getting hiked up.

“You’re so cute~” He pulled his own pants down. “Very pretty.”

The weight on top of you disappeared, taking the opportunity you tried crawling away but your body got flipped around.

Now, you were facing the ceiling of the sewers with nobody in sight yet there were hands fondling your tits.

“Stop,” you whimpered. “Please.”

Mahito smirked, getting his face awfully close to yours. He let his tongue loll out from his mouth and licked your lips.

You let out a startled scream, you tried kicking your invisible attacker but it was useless to even try. You couldn’t fight something you couldn’t see.

“Mm, you taste so sweet,” he whispered. His lips pressed against yours experimentally and bit your bottom lip. You reacted by turning your face to the side.

Boring.

Having had pulled his pants down before, Mahito grabbed his fully erect cock. He stroked it from the base to the pink tip glistening with precum as he relished on your view.

“I really wanna know the name of  my cute new doll.” He used a free hand to spread your legs, although you tried fighting back, he quickly outpowered you. He pouted when you didn’t say anything regarding what he had said.

“Please,” you whispered, starting to pray for whoever was listening. Your hand went between your legs to cover yourself but it stopped midway when you felt something firm press and move against your clit. An involuntary moan left your lips.

Mahito chuckled at your reaction and tapped his cock on your clit before dragging the tip between your folds to cover it with your juices. “You’re wet only because of me, right?” he asked, smirking.

Your lips parted as he lined himself up on your entrance. He waited until your tense body relaxed and shoved his cock inside you in one go once he caught you off guard.

You let out another moan but it got muffled by Mahito’s lips. While you were tensing and yelping because of the girth of his cock stretching you out, he was snaking his tongue inside your mouth with dark amusement.

Whether it be because of fear or pleasure, your gummy walls were clenching around his cock. It was more than enough to let Mahito know that he could move now.

Pulling his hips back and face back, he slammed into you abruptly to force a moan out of you. However, you didn’t make a sound. He looked down at you to notice how you were pressing your lips together, refusing to make it fun.

He sighed but didn’t let it ruin the mood. Instead, he frantically started fucking you. His hips surged forward with frenzy, he was whispering praises but you heard none of them.

Your pussy was being forcefully stretched by something thick and firm, you didn’t know exactly what it was but you also knew. You just didn’t want to acknowledge it.

It moved in and out of your pussy, stroking only the right spots and massaging your gummy walls enticingly. Your juices were gushing out of your hole that was being fucked, making disgustingly wet sounds.

One of your hands went to your pussy, unable to fight back the entity, you tried blocking it with your hand from ravishing you.

A sharp thrust of his hips was all it took to make you squirm and fall back on the concrete.

Mahito put a hand on your clit and started rubbing tight circles on your nub as he continued his animalistic pace to hammer into your pussy.

Arching your back, you moaned. Your pussy was spasming around his cock, begging for more.

“At least your body is honest.” Mahito watched you convulse in pleasure with a chuckle. He pushed your legs up to your chest and began pounding deeper in your pussy.

Your eyes rolled up, hands trying to grab onto something to steady yourself but there was nothing on the concrete. This was it, you were close.

“Do you think a cursed spirit and a human can make a baby?” His pace slackened, your clenching walls had caught him by surprise. He chuckled before languidly answering his own question. “Let’s try and see, yeah? Whaddaya say, sweetie?”

You quivered when his cock kissed your cervix. Your mouth gaped open in a silent moan as your orgasm shook you to your core.

“Haha, you look so needy and dumb!” Mahito’s cock twitched inside you, he groaned loudly. He tried holding himself back and stealing a couple more thrusts into your pussy before the fun ended but his thrusts had started becoming shaky. His hips lurched forward one last time, pushing as far as he could to spill his seed deep inside your womb and filled your pussy until it overflowed.

Mahito pulled back and held your hips up to hold his seed inside you without letting another drop go to waste. This was going to be one of his experiments, he decided with a sickening smile on his face.

You were far too exhausted to feel anything other than the warmth that filled your tummy.

The rest… was a blur.

~~~

Although what happened that night was supposed to be traumatic, nowadays; you found yourself feeling a lot safer walking home at night. Whenever someone followed you or someone with malicious intent tried getting near you, there was a guardian angel that stopped them with a small price of you letting it indulge in your slick heat.

[loverofallthingssarah]

If Flames Could Talk

Part 3

Ellie Staple x Reaper

WARNING: nothing in this chapter

Word Count: 900 +

Part 1 Part 2

A/N: U pdates may be sporadic & sorry if there are errors I’m shit at proofreading my own writing cause I read it how I meant to write it ☹️

A couple of weeks have passed working with Dr. Staple; nothing much has changed in the short amount of time you’ve talked. You keep pushing her for answers, and she keeps telling you it takes time. Time is a luxury you just couldn’t afford. But Dr. staple didn’t seem to understand how much you needed to remember that night. Anything piece to the puzzle that could prove your innocence that could be your alibi.

With each session working together, Ellie would extend the time. You started with one hour sessions, and we’re currently with her for two hours every day. Working on what you felt was completely useless things. You hated sitting there answered and discussing your life’s “trauma” this wasn’t some afterschool special. This was your life. This attitude you were portraying in the halls of Allentown Hospital wasn’t you, you weren’t this dark and melancholy, but you hated it here with your whole fucking chest.

“Alright, Y/n, today I think we are going…,” all you hear is dribble drabble of what she has planned for today, but you’re not in the mood for any introspection bullshit today. Dr. Staple always went on and on about how you should take a step back and look into how you process, but there was no time for that today. It wasn’t helping to pull anything from your memory loss, and to be honest, you couldn’t be bothered with it today. You just wanted fuck around a bit.

“What’s your favorite color?”

“I… um… what?” Ellie cocks her head to the side, clearly confused by your outburst. Since the beginning of your sessions, you barely spoke, and when you did, it was short and concise. No more, no less. Most of the time, she was met with dirty looks and burning eyes filled with disdain. “What’s your favorite color?”

“It’s powder blue, but I don’t see how this has anything to do with-” you cut Dr. Staple off, “My favorite color is a mix between a lilac or a soft yellow. Which really isn’t all interesting, so let’s get down to the nitty gritty. What’s your first name?”

Shock pours from every beautiful line on Ellie’s face. She quickly recovers to her ever neutral facial expressions, “What are you doing, Y/n?”

“I want to know your name,” she looks you dead in the eye, “why?”

You smirk before you reply, “I thought we needed to build trust between us, Dr. Staple,” your voice rises when you say her name, “and how could I ever possibly trust you enough to really open up and commit to any of your psychoanalysis bullshit? Plus, it’s not like your name is some top secret information.”

“It’s Ellie.”

Ellie, such a gorgeous name, meaning bright shining light. It fits such a person as Ellie. She always wanted to find a spin on how anything can be seen in such a positive way. You being here was a way to gain insight into your life; this is what she would always tell you. Not only her outlook as a psychiatrist was bright but also her demeanor. Her hair, her eyes…

“I like that name, so Ellie, how’d you know you were gay?”

Ellie felt a tingle when she heard her name escape your lips, “What? First of all, I think you shouldn’t be calling me Ellie. Call me Dr. Staple. Second of all, why are you asking me that? How can you just assume I’m gay?”

“I can tell. Most gays have gaydar. Mine just happens to be excellent. So, again Ellie,” you said her name in a singsong voice, “how did you know?” Ellie didn’t respond and just stared at you in surprise, “Well, I’ll go first. I realized in middle school when I had a crush on my 6th grade science teacher. I didn’t really know what it was at first, but then it just kind of hit me. I kept it hidden for the longest time because, well, society sucks, as you already know.”

You give her a look to tell her it’s her time to share, she starts to stutter, “Um… I…,” she knows how inappropriate it is to share her personal stories with you, but there’s something about you that she can’t deny, “I was in college, and I had this roommate. She was unlike anyone I had ever met before. We both just fell hard for each other, but it just didn’t work out. We both wanted different things. Which is probably way more than I should have shared, Y/n we should really get back too-,” you found yourself wanting to get to know her better. Wanting to ask her as many questions as you could possibly think of, but you knew where this was heading, and you just couldn’t let that happen. You couldn’t fall for her. She’s your doctor and the only ticket out of this hell hole you were not going to screw that up.

“I’m done for today,” you look away from Ellie.

“Y/n, our session isn’t finished-,” you cut her off yet again, “I’m done for today. You told me if I wasn't comfortable with continuing at any time, we could cut a session short. I would like to go back to my room, now!”

“O-okay,” Ellie reaches for the phone on her desk to call your nurse to escort you back to your room. While you’re waiting for her to return, you avoid any kind of eye contact with Ellie.

Once your nurse arrives, you scurry out of her office and make your trek back to your bubble.

While Ellie sits there and wonders where this session went wrong. She knew she shouldn’t have opened up like that to you. It was appropriate and not to mention unethical. She knew this wasn’t good because she knew what these feelings were. She knew she was developing feelings for you.

sfw taglist: @orchid-fairy @rainbow-hedgehog @twistedpoeticjustice @dreamer-queen @kais-rose-garden @magnificent-paulsonn @mrsdeanhoward @citizenoftheworld-stuff-blog @commanderspeach @in-cordelias-coven @lntlmate