#i am aware that these are all over the place

[bratzforchris]

Sunflowers

Summary: Chris gets distracted easily. Like really, really easily. When he gets separated from Matt and Nick in the mall, he meets a lovely soul who understands just a little bit more than anyone else.

Pairing: ADHD!Chris x autistic!feminine reader

Warnings: Neurodivergent overstimulation, getting lost, crying, brief mentions of ableism

Word Count: 2.1k

A/N: The sunflower lanyard (pictured above) signifies that someone has a hidden or invisible disability and may need extra assistance/patience/kindness. I am not saying or assuming Chris actually has ADHD. If he doesn't, cool, if he does, also cool! This is all for fun and for diversity in the fandom<3 Enjoy!!

ADHD was a difficult thing to live with. It was more than just the stereotype of “Oh look! Squirrel!”. It was a constant condition that caused a lot of impact on one’s day-to-day life and happiness. Chris knew this better than just about anyone. Having been diagnosed in middle school, he found himself on a constant pendulum between spaced out with his head all over the place and extra hyper. Though he was medicated for it, there were still days where his body and mind were consumed with extra hyperactivity and energy, meaning he could be easily distracted, rambunctious, and fidgety. 

Both Matt and Nick were aware of their younger brother’s diagnosis and were extremely supportive of it, letting Chris run wild when he needed to and gently reminding him to take his meds and do his other daily tasks now that they no longer lived with their parents. The youngest really couldn’t have asked for a better support system, but that didn’t mean that there weren’t days where his brain betrayed him for quite literally no reason. 

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

“Do you want your lanyard, Chris?” Matt asked as he grabbed his car keys off the hook near the garage door. 

The key rack held all of the boy’s keys and things they would need when they left the house, but it also held Chris’ green and yellow sunflower lanyard. These lanyards were a universal symbol that someone had a hidden or invisible disability and might need some extra kindness and assistance when they left their house. Chris had fought the idea at first, claiming that he didn’t need that; he rarely struggled in public. However, the change after he had agreed to try one due to Nick’s pleading to give it a shot had been immense. Strangers no longer looked at him like he was rude when he couldn’t help to butt in or play with his fidget toys as an adult, nor did shop owners hastily bat his hands away when he just wanted to touch things in stores. Of course, there were still bigots, but the improvement was more than he could have asked for. 

Now, Chris possessed his own sunflower lanyard, complete with a small card attached that read “I have ADHD. I can act restless and tend to fidget. I may act on impulse and have trouble concentrating. Please be patient and understanding.” and had both Matt and Nick’s names and phone numbers on it in case of an emergency. His lanyard also had a few pins, buttons, and pop-its on it so that the boy would always have something to fidget with. 

“It’s probably a good idea,” Nick added, coming down the stairs and typing out something on his phone. “Christmas is next week. The mall is going to be busy.”

Being triplets, Matt and Nick were incredibly in-tune with Chris and each other, and both boys could tell that today was going to be a more hyper, easily distracted day for their younger brother. Normally, they would’ve postponed busy, crowded spaces and must-do errands for a day where Chris was feeling more mellowed out, but they flew back home to Boston in just a few short days and had yet to buy Christmas presents for, well, anyone. 

Slowly thinking over the situation at hand, Chris grabbed his lanyard off the hook and placed it over his neck, but it wasn’t long until he had moved on to something else. “Do you guys think that there are triplets just like us?” he asked as Matt corralled him out the door. “But like, in China or something?”

The drive to the mall had been much longer than anticipated with all the holiday traffic, which allowed Chris more time to let his mind wander, blurting out every random thought he had as he played with the shark pop-it on his lanyard. Luckily, Nick quickly engaged the youngest in all his conversations so that Matt could focus, his own head spinning as he tried to keep up with Chris’ mile-a-minute chatter. 

“We should go people watching,” Chris announced as Matt parked their car inside of the heavily filled parking garage. “We could probably see some crazy shit. Speaking of which, did you guys see that episode of Live PD last night?”

Matt and Nick shared a glance over Chris’ head as they walked into the mall. The more Chris talked, the more he began to fidget, earning stares from onlookers, despite his lanyard. The mall was insanely crowded, which could either help or hurt. Somedays, Chris absolutely thrived in chaos, able to hyperfocus and get tasks done in record time. On others, his brain became so stimulated by chaos and change that he would shut down, often losing his ability to executive function in the process. Today was an absolute toss up. 

“Let the games begin.” Nick mumbled, grabbing his brothers’ hands and sliding through the crowds. 

As ‘cringy’ as it was, the triplets still held hands with each other in public, especially after Chris had received his ADHD diagnosis. Matt and Nick felt an almost protective sense over their younger brother, opting to help keep him safe when his brain didn’t always remind him to do that himself. 

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

Things had been going fine for well over an hour now, but it was starting to become too much for Chris. They had already gotten presents for their dad and Justin, and were now on the hunt for a gift for their mother. As much as they loved and adored MaryLou, shopping for a woman as 20 year old men in a mall this crowded was a task. 

The youngest triplet was beginning to become overstimulated. His own thoughts had already been so loud and so chaotic this morning, and to add hoards of people, blaring Christmas music, screaming kids, and overwhelming smells from the food court wasn’t helping. He hadn’t meant to get separated from Nick and Chris; the boys had been poring over the jewelry counter in Macy’s when Chris dropped Nick’s hand, opting to pull his Airpods out of his pocket. Maybe if he could listen to the music he liked and that calmed him down, he could manage the rest of this trip without a meltdown. 

Chris had just slipped his earbuds in and pressed play on Life of a Dark Rose when he realized that neither Matt nor Nick was standing next to him. Not yet panicked, he looked around the floor of the department store, searching for Matt’s Red Sox hat or Nick’s blond hair above the crowd. When that didn’t work, he simply shot a quick text in their sibling group chat that read where are you guys??. Much to his discomfort, the text quickly came back with a ‘cannot be delivered’ message, making the brunette curse when he realized that the signal in the store was awful. 

“Excuse me, ma’am. Did you see where my brothers went? They have tattoos. One’s blond and has a nose ring, the other was wearing a hat?” Chris asked the lady at the jewelry counter hopefully. 

Either not noticing his lanyard or not caring, the employee turned her back to Chris, leaving him desperate. He didn’t know his way around this mall at all, his phone wasn’t working, and it was beyond crowded. How was he supposed to find Matt and Nick? What if they left without him? He couldn’t drive and he had left his wallet with Nick. How would he get home? This was just a glimpse into the anxiety that circulated through Chris’ mind whenever he became overstimulated. 

The brunette felt his eyes beginning to grow wet, cursing himself under his breath. He wouldn’t, he couldn’t cry. Not here. Chris wiped a few stray tears that were running down his cheeks and began to retreat to a quiet area of the store to contemplate his next move. The last thing he needed was for a ‘fan’ to snap a photo of him crying and overstimulated and post it online. 

The children’s toy area proved to be the perfect place for him to hide. With all the stock having been bought out for the day in the holiday rush, the department was completely empty. Chris sat down on one of the leather benches, running his hands through his hair as a stim and anxiously checking his phone in hopes of regaining signal. He was so caught up in his anxious stimming and trying not to have a meltdown, that he hadn’t even noticed someone appear beside him. 

“Are you okay? I saw your lanyard,” You offered kindly. “You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.”

Chris looked up at you, taking in your appearance. You were absolutely beautiful, dressed in a soft, sensory friendly outfit with a purple cow Squishmallow clutched to your side. That wasn’t what caught his attention, though. What truly caught his attention was the sunflower lanyard hanging around your own neck. Glancing briefly at the card, Chris noticed it read “I’m autistic”. 

“Can I sit?” You asked, gesturing to the empty spot next to the boy. 

Chris nodded, wiping his eyes and clearing his throat. “I can’t find my brothers.” he admitted tearfully. 

“Is that who’s with you?” You asked knowingly, having been in similar situations yourself. “Do you want to call them?”

“I can’t. My phone won’t send the fucking text and they were just with me and I can’t find them. What if they left me?” the more Chris talked, the upset he became, anxiously chewing on his nails. 

“Hey hey hey, it’s okay. They wouldn’t leave you. Would you like a fidget?” You pulled a tangle from your purse, holding it out for the boy to take.

Chris stared at you for a moment before tentatively taking the toy from you, instantly focusing on the colors and movement of the plastic. “...thank you.” he whispered. 

“Would it be okay if I touched you?” You asked gently. From your own experience, you knew that it was important in situations like these to ask for consent to touch someone who was overstimulated. “My lanyard has my emergency contact on it. Does yours? Maybe we can work together to find your brothers.”

Chris nodded softly, allowing you to softly look at his lanyard and identify both Matt and Nick’s phone numbers and names. By some miracle, your phone had much better service than Chris’ did, allowing you to let both brothers know where you were and that Chris was looking for them. 

“So, tell me about yourself if you want to.” You tried to make easy conversation to take the brunette’s mind off his current overstimulation and panic. 

“‘M a YouTuber,” Chris muttered softly, highly subdued. “And I like rap music and y’know, I have ADHD.” when he saw your soft, blushy smile and attentive listening, Chris became more animated. 

“I’ve always thought YouTube would be a cool job. I’m a pet sitter. I love animals so much. They’re one of my special interests.” You nodded to your cow stuffed animal. 

Chris remembered reading about the term when he was doing some self reflecting on being neurodivergent. Although he didn’t experience them himself, he knew that they were an enormous part of being autistic, and he felt grateful that you were willing to share something like that with him. 

“How did you, um, find me?” Chris asked shyly. 

“Well, I came to see if they had any stuffed animals because I love them, but instead I found you.” You smiled, fiddling with your own fidget toy. 

You and Chris continued to chat as you waited for his brothers. The difference in his personality when you first found him to now was like night and day. He had become more animated over the course of your conversation, talking with his hands, eyes aglow. You looked up when you noticed two men who looked eerily similar to Chris walk up next to you. In your head, you connected the dots that the boys must have been triplets. The blond who approached you had a hard look on his face as he noticed his brother talking to a stranger, but when his eyes caught your lanyard, he visibly relaxed. 

“Matt! Nick!” Chris squealed, leaping off the bench and pulling his brothers into a hug. 

You watched with a soft smile, thinking the sibling’s embrace was cute until the brother in the Red Sox hat turned to you. 

“Thank you,” he told you sincerely. “Thank you for helping him.”

“It’s really not a problem.” You were becoming shy under the attention, but Chris came up and wrapped his arm around you. 

“I love her,” Chris said, before blushing as he realized what he had said. “Not like that! I…I mean…” he stuttered. 

“I’ll give you my number,” You chuckled, standing on your tiptoes and kissing Chris on the cheek. “For being such a sweetheart.”

tags ♡:  @jake-and-johnnies-slut @chrissfavwh3re @suyqa @chrissturnswife @mbsbaby @herxysc-blog @lovingchrissposts @caffeinatedscorpio @spencereidenthusiast @crazychrisl0v3r @sturnioloxlver @whicked-hazlatwhore @blahbel668 @sturncakez @junnniiieee07 @biggesthat3r @sturniolowhore @patscorner @julesgrl @0strawberrysorbet0 @strombolilovr @matt444nixi @remussbitch @devthepoet1221 @mattyblover07 @loisnotaa @mollyquinnxoxo @graysturns @pepsicolapussy333 @ginswife @emmagirouard @athaliahxoxo @bitchydragonparadise @ilydeaky @soggyslugg169 @m00n-0n-paws @books0fever @stingerayyy2 @sunsetsturniolos @mimi-luvzyu @raysmayhem-72 @faygo-frog @oobleoob @billsslutt @aemrsy

note ♡: if you'd like to bed added to my taglist, click here <3

[zegrasdrysdale]

Hey! Could you write a John Marino x Reader fluff where he has a girlfriend that nobody knows about and he brings her to family skate and they being super cute and everyone has no idea who she is and he basically hard launches the relationship to everyone? Thank you!!

[ since when ] j. marino

pairing : John Marino x fem!reader

summary : John brings his girlfriend of several months to family skate before the Stadium Series game, surprising everyone

warning(s) : none ! just some tooth rotting fluff

author’s note : i am all over the place w requests so pls bear w me while i try to get them out for y'all. this is on the shorter end and prob not my best work but i hope you all like it <33

༺═──────────────═༻

"Are you sure?" she questions as John runs around like a crazy man to grab this things so they can leave. "I don't want to ruin family skate for you."

John stops and looks at her from the front door of the apartment. An equipment bag slung over his shoulder.

“I would love to have you there,” he replies. He drops the bag on the ground by the door and walks over to her where she stands in the hallway that leads to their room. “I love you and want you there.”

She’s still very hesitant despite his reassurance. “What if your teammates don’t like me?” she asks. “I’ve never met them. Or their wives and girlfriends.”

“They’ll love you,” he tells her. “I promise. I might throw them off by bringing you and showing you off but they’ll love you.”

Showing you off.

The one thing that John hasn’t been afraid of doing is showing her off. She’s been introduced to his non-hockey friends and his parents. All John did was brag about about beautiful and smart she was.

Today was the day she’s been excited for and dreading at the same time. She’s finally going to get introduced to his teammates. That group of guys are like John’s found family. She’s extremely nervous. There's a reason why he's waited, and she's completely understood why he's been waiting to introduce her to his teammates. They are the most important people in his life, and he wanted to make sure they were both ready for that.

“You’re sure they won’t mind if you bring me?” she asks as John pulls the beanie he had made for her. It has his number on it. “I don’t want to pull you away from your teammates.”

John smiles as soon as the beanie is secured. “I think they will be more in shock that I’m bringing my girlfriend that they didn’t know about to family skate,” he admits. “Some of them are definitely going to swarm and ask a lot of questions. They’ll be more of a pain in our asses.”

A small smile forms on her lips. “Okay,” she sighs. “I’m ready, I guess.”

“You look cute all bundled up,” John comments as he leans down and presses a kiss to her nose. “Just so you’re aware.”

Her cheeks get hot but she isn’t sure if that’s because of his compliment or because of how hot she is standing in the apartment in a puffer jacket and sweater underneath.

She opens the door so he can walk out of the apartment. John waddles down the hallway with his gear bag so they can get to the rink in time for the Devils to practice before family skate starts.

The closer they get to MetLife stadium, the more nervous she gets.

She's terrified to be introduced to a huge group of people that have no idea who she is. John hasn't told anyone about her. She's really a nobody dating an NHL player. All of the wives and girlfriends have things they do, and she feels like she does nothing even though she's attending graduate classes at NYU to get a master's in literature.

Sometimes she has no business having this kind of life.

John parks the car in the back with the rest of the players' and staffs' cars. He finds a spot that's somewhat close to the door.

An excited John looks over at her, and she's pretty sure she has a look of pure fear in her eyes with the way his face falls. "Baby, what's wrong?" he asks.

"I don't belong here," she blurts out. A weight has been lifted off her shoulders as she finally admits what's really been bothering her. "I don't ... I'm a nobody compared to everyone I'm about to meet. I'm a grad student. I don't have some cool job like everyone else does."

Her boyfriend turns in his seat and grabs her hand. "Listen to me," he tells her. "You are a smart, badass, sometimes smartass, woman that is studying for her master's." She tries to hide the smile that forms on her face at his comment. "You do belong here. You're going to be a New York Times bestseller one day and you're going to have the coolest job that anyone has ever seen. Right now though, you are the most beautiful person to walk into that building. You look good. You should feel good."

She pouts at John trying to hype her up. She swears she could cry. "I love you," she says to him after a minute. "Please don't ever leave my side though until I actually talk to someone."

John smiles at her. "Deal."

They get out of the car. She grabs her ID badge that lets her get into the building and anywhere she really wants to go tonight. John grabs her hand and they walk into MetLife together.

At first, no one notices her. John says hi to some of the staff that works with the Devils. His teammates are probably getting ready for practice.

She follows John as he turns down a hallway. There is music coming from one of the rooms and John peeks his head in. "Oh, good," he says. "No one has started getting ready yet. Families are still in the locker room." John turns his attention to his girlfriend. "You ready?"

With a heavy sigh, she nods. "Ready."

John smiles and pushes the door completely open with his shoulder. Every single head turns in their direction as soon as she's standing at his side again. Conversation dies down as the Devils realize what's happening.

"Dude," Brendan Smith says to break the silence. "Since when?"

"A few months," John admits. "Um, I'd like everyone to meet my girlfriend. Baby, this is everyone."

She gives them a little wave before she takes a small step closer to John before a couple of the wives and girlfriends whisk her away to get to know her.

When she looks back at John, several of his teammates have gathered around him to probably ask him so many questions.

She takes a liking to Erik's wife almost immediately, but also likes talking to Lazar and Toffoli's wives as well. They seem to be pros at this whole thing so she sticks with them until families can join the players on the ice. She watches practice with them and enjoys being able to see what goes on at a Devils practice that has John exhausted when he gets home.

John immediately finds her as soon as she hits the ice in her new skates that he got for her for Christmas. That was the day he asked her to come to family skate with him. She said yes, and right now, she's happy that she did.

Despite being very nervous, she feels like she's made some new friends.

He takes her hands and guides her on the ice. "Feeling any better?" he asks as they glide around, avoiding running into other people.

"A lot better," she admits. "How many questions were you asked when I was kidnapped by the wives and girlfriends?"

John laughs and laces their fingers together. "I never want to get asked again how long we've been dating," he tells her. "They all asked me probably twenty times how long we've been together and why it took me so long to introduce you to them. Jack said we 'hard launched' our relationship, whatever that means."

She smiles and wraps her arms around his torso. He looks so much taller on skates, even when she's on skates too. She still has to look up at him. "It basically means that we dropped our relationship on everyone without any hints," she explains. "You really didn't tell them that you had a girlfriend?"

"No, I did," he says. "Yesterday. Some of them didn't get that text." She laughs as John's back hits the glass. He lifts his hands and cups her face. His fingers are cold against the warm skin on her cheeks. "They all already love you. I might have hyped you up when you were taken away from me."

Her cheeks heat up even more, probably warming John's fingers at the same time. "You didn't," she sighs.

John smiles and sucks his bottom lip between his teeth. "I did," he replies. "It's because I love you and you deserved to be hyped up. You were so worried, but they're all excited about the book that you're writing and can't wait to read it."

"John Marino!" she gasps as she playfully hits his gear covered chest. "No one was supposed to know about that yet. I'm still drafting it."

"I'm proud of you, baby," John softly tells her as he leans down. "You should be proud of your work too."

She smiles and wraps her arms back around his torso. "I am."

He tilts her head up and captures her lips in the softest kiss she's ever experience. Both of them smile into the kiss that follows.

They don't get too into it though because somewhere behind them is a shouting Dawson Mercer. "Get it Johnny!" His teammates join in soon after.

John groans and pulls back from the kiss. "They can't ever mind their own business," he sighs.

"They're happy for you," she giggles. "It's cute that you have a whole team that's happy for you."

He smiles and looks down at her. "Thank you for coming, by the way," he says as he pulls her along behind the net.

"That's what she said."

"I cannot stand you."

"You love me."

"I do."

༺═──────────────═༻

MASTERLIST

have a request ? check out the guidelines !

wanna be added to the taglist ? fill out this form !

taglist : @dasiysthings @equallyshaw @dancerbailey3 @love4lando @stony1386 @mangoluver @prettyinsatiable @bunbunbl0gs @marie7366 @aaliyah40606-blog

[diazsdimples]

hi! if you're still doing them from the make 'em swoon prompts: pulling them on their lap + bucktommy pleasee <3

Hey! I sure am! Enjoy!

Tommy was early. Tommy was early for their date and Buck was stressing.

They'd organised for Tommy to come over at 6pm, and Buck was going to stun him with his culinary prowess and cook them dinner, after they'd snacked on some of the chips and beer Buck had fished out of his pantry.

Buck had been prepping for dinner all afternoon, getting the chicken marinading nice and early and chopping the vegetables so all he'd have to do was throw them in the pan and sauté them while Tommy waited. He'd been so busy doing that that he'd completely lost track of time, and now it's 5:55pm, he's not put any of the snacks out and Tommy is fucking early.

"Hey," Buck greets Tommy as he pulls the door open, sounding extremely flustered.

"Hey yourself," Tommy says, slipping in through the door. He snakes an arm around Buck's waist and pulls him close, pressing a soft but sweet kiss to his lips. "How are you doing?"

"Better, now," Buck says, letting out a breathy sigh as he lets himself melt into Tommy's embrace. "You're early."

"Yeah," Tommy shrugs, a small, almost apologetic smile on his lips. "I got excited. Can I help with anything?"

"No, no, I got it. Go sit down," Buck says with a wave of his hand, directing Tommy to the couch he'd finally picked out a few weeks back. "Make yourself at home."

Tommy gives him a little salute before turning and walking off, and Buck lets himself admire his ass for a moment, biting his lip before he shakes his head and turns his attention back to the kitchen.

Buck flies around like a man on fire as he rushes to get the chips, dip, and beer onto the coffee table. Tommy watches him with a half amused smile playing across his lips as Buck trips over his feet and knocks over a cup. He's dimly aware of Tommy asking questions or making conversation as he hurries around, but he doesn't really reply, too focused on getting everything perfect and the way it should have been before Tommy arrived.

Buck has just placed down two bottles of beer on the coffee table and is about to rush off to grab napkins when Tommy stops him with an arm around his waist, and pulls Buck into his lap.

Buck sits down heavily, letting out a small squeak of surprise, and squirms to get out of Tommy's grasp.

"Hey, Evan, slow down a second," Tommy laughs good-naturedly as he rubs soothing circles into Buck's arm.

"But I-" Buck begins, gesturing helplessly towards the kitchen, where their dinner lays, waiting to be cooked. "I've gotta make dinner!"

"Dinner can wait," Tommy replies, tightening his grip around Buck's waist. He nuzzles at Buck's jaw, pressing a light kiss right the hinge. "Been wanting to hold you all day."

Buck lets out a breathy sigh, tilting his head slightly, and his eyes flutter closed.

"Really?" He murmurs, allowing himself to relax and cuddle further into Tommy's arms.

"Yeah," Tommy smiles, placing another kiss to the underside of Buck's jaw. He slides a hand up Buck's chest, cupping his cheek and pulling him closer until their lips are barely brushing. "Missed you, baby."

Buck's lips twitch up into a smile as his eyes slowly flicker open. He reaches a hand up to tangle in the hair at the nape of Tommy's neck, and pulls him in for a searing kiss.

The angle is a little awkward, with Buck having to lean down and twist his torso, but neither of them seem to care, both content to let themselves melt into the kiss. Tommy's hands roam along the planes of Buck's back, scratching with his blunt nails, and Buck's fingers shivers as the sensation sends zings of electricity down his spine and straight to his slowly-hardening cock.

When they pull away, they're both breathless, panting lightly into each other's mouths. Buck leans his forehead against Tommy's, letting his eyes drift shut and his breathing even out.

"I missed you, too," He murmurs, running his hand through the hairs at the back of Tommy's neck. "You sure you're not hungry right now?"

"Oh I'm hungry alright," Tommy replies, his voice deep and husky, and he reels Buck back in for another bruising kiss, their teeth clicking and lips moving in tandem as they each fight for dominance.

Yeah, Buck thinks they probably won't be eating for a while.

Make 'em swoon prompts!!

Tagging some Bucktommy friends (I think?)

@theotherbuckley @bidisasterevankinard @hippolotamus @watchyourbuck @loveyouanyway

@wikiangela @jesuisici33 @slightlyobsessedwitheverything @neverevan (lmk if Bucktommy isn't actually something you vibe with and I shall not tag)

[immediatebreakfast]

The rich symbolism of what the castle is as a physical place, a representation of Jonathan's sanity, and manifestation of the decaying opulence of aristocracy overflows like a fall from a jagged hill the more Jonathan tries to explore it.

The view was magnificent, and from where I stood there was every opportunity of seeing it. The castle is on the very edge of a terrible precipice. A stone falling from the window would fall a thousand feet without touching anything!

Such beautiful view that could kill someone with a single mistake in where one puts their feet. Isolated from the rest of the world, from any kind of power, nor authority that is not the Count.

But I am not in heart to describe beauty, for when I had seen the view I explored further; doors, doors, doors everywhere, and all locked and bolted. In no place save from the windows in the castle walls is there an available exit.

A beautiful prison with so much glamour, so much opulence. Gold plates, delicious food, rich fabrics that stood up the test of time, no servants (no other human beings), every decorated door locked. What a beautiful cage it seems to be this castle... it reminds me of the poor wife of Bluebeard, having the illusion of freedom while being trapped in a punishment she was not aware of.

Why do so many gothic female characters end up in these types of situations? What does the Gothic has to tell us the readers when we see a young lady trying and trying to find a succeful escape route as she juggles her emotions and actions with the man who has trapped her?

Why does Jonathan has to keep being polite to the Count (vampirism aside) while he is seeing how everything, and everywhere is cloaked in the illusion of freedom even if he knows now that is only that, an illusion.

When, however, the conviction had come to me that I was helpless I sat down quietly—as quietly as I have ever done anything in my life—and began to think over what was best to be done. 

There is a reason why what we call the Gothic in literature is heavily framed through the lens of female characters, tragedy, and romantic elements that amplify the dramatic of the text. Why do young gothic female characters; all bright eyed, innocent, inexperienced, curious, and most importantly kind, end up in horrifying situations that fundamentally change them to the point of no recognition.

A woman walks into a house. Or a castle, or a ship, or a town. A woman walks in and with her comes enthusiasm, trepidation, longing, delight. Perhaps all four at once... Maybe she’s even alone, cheerily hauling a suitcase larger than she is. She might be a guest, an heiress, the help. Chakraborty, A. (2021). Ode to the Gothic Heroine (A selection). Half Mystic. https://www.halfmystic.com/blog/gothic-heroine

Jonathan might be a man, a male character, but through the lens of the Gothic, he is a feminine character. Jonathan is young bright eyed, inexperienced, delightful, and so formal with his emotions, and actions. He knows how to keep Dracula busy as he ponders over any kind of clue that could help him escape. Jonathan smiles, and steers himself with a single "It is very annoying, for I do not see how I am to shave" after the Count nearly assaulted him in what was supposed to be a private moment in his living space, then violently got rid of one of his belongings.

But what is Jonathan supposed to do? The Count is his employer, his landlord, his opposite in every way possible (older, experienced, cunning), he can't just... tell him that he is making him uncomfortable, and that he is a prisoner in everything but name. You can't risk talking to an older man who has power over you like that young lady.

(Mem., this diary seems horribly like the beginning of the "Arabian Nights," for everything has to break off at cockcrow—or like the ghost of Hamlet's father.)

Jonathan putting himself in the shoes of a female character is not a coincidence, it's the start of what kind of traits he will need to survive both the castle, and the Count. Jonathan can't risk any kind of bad social interaction; he has to be careful with what he says, how he moves, and what topics he will use to keep Dracula busy as he searches for answers. Young gothic heroines don't have the luxury to fight back neither physically, nor verbally, they have to keep the song and dance of societal expectations less the man who has power over them decides to do something traumatic to them while everything screams how she stepped out of line.

Jonathan has now stopped being the curious male protagonist that starts to understand that something is wrong, he is now the gothic heroine of the narrative. Trapped both in the physical place of the castle, and the patriarchal power that Dracula embodies which Jonathan has to escape from.

[waywardstation]

HAPPY WIP WEDNESDAY!!

This one is to promote @bananacreamphi ‘s dojoshipping week prompts !! I’m participating in it with a fic and accompanying art, each day’s prompt making up one of its seven chapters.

Even though it’s obviously for dojoshipping, just like all my other works you can probably read it entirely platonic as well if you want.

Here is a WIP from it!! It’s a little shorter today because the chapters themselves are shorter.

The overarching story is essentially Ingo helping Zisu fix up the dojo for a festival, because he’s sort of the one that busted it up in the first place with all his battling — it’s a plot that was taken from one of my fake fic title ideas when I was doing those!!

Enjoy! Wording is (VERY) subject to change.

————

“About that, Ingo,” Zisu laughed a little, but it felt more like she was just trying to keep the mood light. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.”

“Oooh, you’re in trouble~” Akari’s teasing remark was bursting at the seams with amusement as she elbowed him. It seemed she was already fully aware of the subject, and had been waiting for Zisu to bring it up — her perceived delight only encouraged preemptive embarrassment to heat Ingo’s ears.

“Why am I in trouble?” Straightening his back as stiff as his tone, Ingo set his chopsticks down against the table under a flat hand, immediately looking at Zisu.

“He’s not in trouble,” Zisu pointed at Akari with her chopsticks before turning to Ingo. “You’re not in trouble.”

“I feel like I’m in trouble.”

“You’re not…” A pause, as the last syllable stretched out. “…exactly, in trouble.”

Ingo could only feel himself growing warmer in the face, and Akari’s snickering off to the side wasn’t helping. “Please don’t delay this any longer, what did I do that has caused such a concern?”

Zisu’s answer wasn’t immediate; while she was probably trying to be gentle about it, the effort only doubled the dread. “Well, you know the welcoming festival coming up in a few days?”

“…Indeed,” Ingo spoke slowly, giving a reaffirming nod. He couldn’t not know about it, what with the newly-finished homes; now empty but soon to be filled by residents traveling across the ocean, it was all anyone was talking about right now. But what could he possibly have to do with any of that?

“Kamado wants the entire village to be at its best for our new residents when they arrive — and I mean the entire village. Every building, every street, every bucket, every grain of dirt, it has to be perfect. Well he came by the training grounds early this morning, before you had even gotten there, and he was…” A pause to figure out how to put it nicely. “Not particularly overjoyed with the current state of it.”

“Oh,” Ingo could see where this was going now. “Oh dear.”

The dojo was sturdy, but it was not indestructible. Ingo was well aware that the battles he conducted at the training grounds were never delicate or subdued. They were oftentimes quite intense with Akari’s help, and over time, such intensity left wood paneling splintered, paint chipped, and dirt in areas there certainly should not be dirt.

No one could deny that it had considerable wear and tear, noticeable from afar and unsightly up close. That was certainly not a presentable sight in a village that apparently needed everything perfectly in place for this festival, down to the specks of dirt on the ground.

[paradiseprincesss]

hopefully this isnt much of an ask but would you be willing to make a jonathan crane x coworker!reader where we sort of intimidate him and or tease him and its kinda like enemies to lovers can be smut or not thank you!! :)

after hours - jonathan crane x reader

i saw this request and i was like...i fear this concept ate. i fw it!! this was fun to write - i got this finished within a few hours cause i was like whewww okay i like it. i hope u enjoy this anon! <3

summary: you work as a nurse (take a guess at what i major in...it had to be done. i saw an opportunity and took it.) at arkham asylum, and there's one person you work with that you just cannot stand - dr. jonathan crane.

warnings: smut 18+ minors dni!!, swearing, kissing, p in v, just general smut but also fluff hehe

you threw your car in park, your favourite colour water bottle in hand as you got out of the car in your scrubs. you had thrown your hair up in a claw clip that matched your water bottle, feeling cute - and made your way into arkham asylum.

you'd just started working at arkham - you were a new grad nurse, and you were excited! the pay was pretty high in comparison to other places that were hiring, i.e the hospital, so you jumped at the opportunity.

your coworkers and colleagues were all super sweet, and you were navigating your first few days around at work with ease, fitting right in and learning more and more every day on the job.

as you got to the staff room, you placed your bag in the lockers and headed off to the nurses station. you skimmed through the papers littered on the table to see what you were assigned to do today, and noticed you were most likely going to be having a relatively chill day. it seemed that you were just going to be shadowing one of the psychiatrists today and learning more about acute patient management.

"morning," your co-worker who happened to be the night shift nurse, said to you as she approached you at the counter, "i'm going home now, but i couldn't help but notice dr. jenson wants you to shadow dr. crane today instead of assessing and monitoring patients." she tells you, taking in a sharp breath.

she seemed to notice the look of confusion that washed over your face and quickly clarified. "not that that's bad in any way! i just figured she would want you to be doing what you usually do since in the few days you've been here, you've been doing so good. dr. jenson is really impressed. you know, you're really great for a new grad nurse." she laughs softly.

"oh, well, i'm glad to hear that - thank you. i try." you say, smiling brightly, "i haven't had a chance to meet dr. crane yet, actually. i know he only works with...specific patients and stuff." you say to your colleague.

jonathan crane was known around the asylum as a rather brash and cold individual. he wasn't super friendly, and often kept to himself and worked tirelessly with the patients that were under his direct care. he was the acting chief of psychiatry at arkham and hardly had the time to socialize and mingle with the other staff members.

"well, good luck with that." your co-worker said as she collected her keys and waved goodbye to you before you had a chance to ask her what she meant by that.

suddenly, you heard a smooth voice say your name from behind you - and you turned around to see a tall man, around 6'2, with cerulean blue eyes and glasses, wearing a suit, tie and what appeared to be a sweater vest staring at you with a clipboard in hand.

"i'm doctor jonathan crane." he says flatly, introducing himself. you smile at him softly, and politely introduce yourself.

"i'd rather not waste time on small talk and introductions, i am fully aware of who you are." he says condescendingly, wiping the smile right off your face.

you say nothing in response, too embarrassed by his sharp tone and direct words - and you follow him as he gestures you to do so.

so much for a good first impression.

for the entirety of your shift, he just talked down to you. made it his personal goal to make you feel shitty about yourself; explaining things to you as if you didn't just spend the last four years of your life suffering through nursing school just to be told you didn't know what you were doing.

it was agitating - infuriating, really. you did know what you were doing. your higher ups even told you so - unfortunately, jonathan was the higher ups to your higher ups, so there wasn't much you could do.

you would do something and he would find a way to criticize it. you would finish giving medication to a patient, and he would scoff as if you were stupid. you would monitor patients and chart everything with accuracy, and he would tell you that you weren't doing it properly.

it frustrated you terribly, but to no avail, he never changed his ways. and honestly, he was the only one complaining! dr. jenson would never criticize you like that, in fact she always said that your performance was phenomenal.

you and your co-workers theorized that he may even be jealous or intimidated by you because you were such a diligent employee, especially for someone so young - and you seemed to do everything with ease.

but you never quite understood why he would feel that way, though, since the two of you had totally different roles and careers.

and that's how the first few weeks of working on shift with dr. crane was. since the two of you didn't work side by side constantly - hence you having two different occupations - you would sometimes get a break from his condescending attitude and harsh words. but over time, you'd come to almost enjoy the push and pull dynamic between the two of you - but you doubted that it was mutual.

yes, the first month or two was rough - he was a straight up piece of shit to you, but over time, it seemed he had laid off of being mean...partially. he was still sarcastic and full of attitude, but you would sometimes notice that it seemed lighthearted in nature, even if he didn't say it aloud or tried his best to hide it.

today, you came into work as per usual, but you were working rotating night shifts so you it was a little less hectic than usual. as you finished charting a patients vitals, you heard footsteps approach from behind you in the quietness of the upstairs ward.

turning around, you saw a sleepy dr. crane.

"hey," you say to him, "you're still here? it's almost 10. i thought you would've gone home by now."

he scoffs at you (as per usual), and throws a stack of paper on the nearby desk. "if you haven't noticed, i'm the acting chief psychiatrist here - i have a plethora of staff and patients, amongst other things, to manage and attend to."

you just shake your head with a small laugh, taking your latex gloves off, and offer him a teasing response. "i know that, calm down. it's not that serious - it was just a question, dr. crane."

a few months ago, you would have never talked to him in such a way, but now, you felt comfortable doing so. the dynamic had shifted between you - it was one of those love-hate relationships.

"god, you are insufferable." he groans.

"and you're stuck up. like genuinely." you retaliate, a small smile playing on your lips. he doesn't care to respond, and just scoffs once more, picking his papers up and seemingly heading out for the night.

you didn't see him for a good three weeks after that, but now you were back on your normal dayshift schedule, and you saw him in the middle of your shift as you were returning from a patients room after administrating some medication.

"jesus, jonathan, watch where you're going!" you exclaim, as he almost walks straight into you, aquamarine coloured eyes focused on the stack of patient forms in his hand.

he looked at you and grimaced. "you watch where you're going - you're the one holding the syringe in your hand. and here i thought you'd be one to know about work protocols." he sneers, and you huff. "god, you're insufferable." you say, mocking him.

he shoots you a dirty look, and you smirk. "hit a nerve?" you ask innocently.

"i could fire you right now if i wanted to." he says angrily, but you just laugh softly as you make your way down the hall, brushing past him to dispose of the syringe in your hand.

later that day, as you were getting ready to head home from your shift, jonathan came up to you in the staff room.

"i'd like to speak to you in my office, if you would please come with me." he informs you curtly, and you raise a brow.

"my shifts over, i don't work after hours." you flatly say back, and he scoffs. "don't get mouthy with me, i can assure you it'll take a few minutes at most."

you let out a dramatic little "ughhhh," and place your bag down, following him to his office. as you went into his office, you noticed the way it looked - dark. the blinds were closed, lights slightly dimmed, and all the future seemed to be in a dark oak colour. various degrees with his name were framed on the wall - his bachelors, masters, and doctorate all hung up proudly.

"quite the collection you got there, but a little excessive, don't you think?'' you tease, as you sit in a chair opposite of him at his office desk. "very funny." he deadpans, and you smirk. "what did you need to talk to me so urgently about?" you ask, but what he said next shocked you.

"i'm giving you a raise." he says plainly, and your jaw drops. you thought he fucking hated you - or at least found you painfully annoying.

"a-a raise?" you stammer, looking at him with surprise. he sighs, and nods. "yes, that is correct."

"don't get me wrong - i am so grateful, but why? you always...put down my work. criticize everything i do." you say, a nervous laugh escaping your lips.

"i just- i just wanted to push you. i could see your potential." he says a little awkwardly, looking away.

"oh, i see." you say quietly, and he gets up the filing cabinet in the corner to sift through what you assumed were patient files.

"that's all. feel free to go." he says, tone gaurded, but as you got up to leave, you felt the sudden urge to stop in your tracks.

"wait- no. i still don't understand." you say, and he lets out an irritated sigh, staring at you with files in his hand. "i'm sorry - did you want me to take your raise back?" he asks rudely.

"i-i just don't know why you're so mean to me if my performance is so...good." you explain meekly, and he lets out another frustrated huff. "i told you, i was pushing you because i saw your...p-potential." he says, but you caught how he faltered at the end of his sentence.

"did you just stutter?"

"i will take back that raise. don't tempt me."

"tell me why you're so mean to me."

he stays silent for a moment, taking a few steps closer so that he was now standing towering over you. but he speaks up again, tone sharp and defensive. "are your cognitive abilities failing you? have you not heard what i've been saying? i said i saw potential-"

"that's such bullshit!"

"why does this bother you so much?"

"answer me!"

"i'm telling you i saw potential-"

"god i hate-"

but before you could say "you," his lips were crashing onto yours, and you melted into the kiss instantly, wrapping your arms around his neck. neither of you broke away, and the kiss deepened as he picked you up and placed you on top of his desk, holding your waist with a soft grip and your hands started to intertwine into his hair.

the two of you made out for a few minutes as he had you on his desk, but it didn't last long because both of you were just so fucking pent up. neither of you really hated each other - you just both found one another annoyingly attractive.

as he pulled away from the kiss, you wasted absolutely no time getting him out of his suit jacket, and quickly undid his tie as he took the top of your scrubs off.

"sorry." you suddenly say, and he looks at you confused. "what?"

you look down at the bra that you were wearing - it was kinda boring, you thought. just plain and black. "i didn't expect to be sleeping with my boss who hates me so i didn't really um...prepare?"

he just scoffs and continues to get you out of your clothes. "god, you truly are insufferable." but this time, it wasn't the same tone he usually took with you - no, it was different. it was for sure different. it was almost...loving.

he quickly unclasped your bra after fumbling with it for a few seconds. that was so him.

as you sat there on his office desk, in just your panties, you felt a little self conscious - you couldn't lie. subconsciously, you tried to cover up with your arms, but he stopped you.

"you're perfect - stop." he says softly, and you swore you saw him blushing. you didn't say anything back, but you slowly put your arms down and he took a deep breath in at the sight.

"beautiful." he whispers, before kissing you once more, sliding down your panties and fumbling with his own belt buckle. after a few mere moments of getting his pants off, his cock sprung free.

you pulled away from the kiss to catch your breath, and he took this opportunity to snake his hand behind your neck and softly hold onto your hair, pulling your head back to look at him.

he used his other hand to line up the head of cock with your now soaking cunt, and paused before looking back at you, cheeks tinted a rosy pink.

"tell me this is okay." he whispers, and you roll your eyes playfully. "oh, c'mon-"

"no. i'm your boss and i'm aware of the power imbalance between us. i need you to tell me that this is okay, sweetheart." he says to you, teasing your folds and making you moan.

"didn't take you for that kind of guy," you try to keep your composure, "but y-yeah, it's okay."

as you gave him the green light, he plunged his cock into you slowly, giving you time to adjust. as he stretched you open on his thick cock, you moaned and he cursed under his breath - your warm, wet, velvety walls sucking him in.

"oh fuck." you moan softy as he started to move slowly, as to not hurt you, wanting to be gentle. "i didn't know a cunt could be so tight-" he chokes, letting out a shaky breath.

"mmm- deeper, please." you whisper breathlessly, and he fucked you harder, deeper - faster.

you were a moaning, withering mess for him as his name fell from your lips like a prayer, and he moaned your name right back to you. "jesus - you feel amazing." he praised, and your cheeks burned at his sweet words.

the feeling of his cock plowing your tight cunt was dizzying, you could've sworn you almost felt him in your stomach. the both of you were breathing heavily and moaning, becoming a mess for the other.

"feels so good, don't stop." you moaned as kissed down your neck, biting occasionally, leaving marks. his grip on your hair tightened, and he pulled your head back a little further, giving him better access to your neck - to mark you as his even more than he already was.

"j-jon-" you pant, "i-ah, i'm gonna cum!" you say, and he speaks lowly by your ear, "cum all over my cock, fuck- you're so beautiful."

the tone of his voice, the words he was saying, the way he was fucking you - all of it was too much, and suddenly, you were squirting whilst screaming his name.

"oh sweetheart," he exasperates, looking at you in awe, "fuck, that's so hot." his thrusts sped up significantly, chasing his own release and you felt yourself whimper from the overstimulation.

"gonna cum-" he pants, and you pull him closer. "cum inside, please." you beg, and he grips your hair with such force it almost hurts. "a-are you sure-"

"yes!" you moan, "j-just fill me up, please jonathan-" you say, clinging onto him for dear life, and his thrusts came to a still as he groaned, hot cum spilling deep inside of you.

he doesn't move just yet, still staying buried deep in your cunt - making sure you take every last drop of him. his fingers ghosted over the marks on your neck, a small smile tugging his lips, making you smile back at him dopily with a sigh.

"so this is what you get up to after hours." you tease, and he captures your lips in a soft kiss, making you moan in surprise.

after a moment, he pulls back, still smiling softly at you - looking at you like you were an angel that fell straight from heaven into his lap.

"never, sweetheart," he says, feigning offence, "i was too busy fantasizing about you - too busy falling in love with you."

and with that, he pulled you into another deep kiss with his hands wrapped around your waist, making your heart melt - because you loved him too.

[makethatelevenrings]

Reports and Renewal // S. Riley x f!reader

A/N: hiiiii consider this a 5k follower celebration!!! thank you!!! wtf!!! I am SLAMMED with life and work right now. I'm about to post this and go study some more but HI I APPRECIATE YOU ALL SO MUCH.

I will hopefully be able to do more of a celebration/interactive follower thing once I absolutely dominate this test. Bc I will. (Manifesting!!) warnings: mentions of injuries (fractures, ligament tears) and fatigue, subtle misogyny, swearing but tbh if you're reading COD fanfics and are surprised by swearing...I can't help you

Two sharp raps against the wood of your door drew you away from the cursor blinking repeatedly and the slow creep of it across the page. It wasn’t your fault that it was taking you longer than usual. Only one of your hands was in commission right now thanks to a nasty fall during the last mission. The thought of the injury made your lips thin into a grimace as the sling on your shoulder dug into the tender skin there. A fractured radius and a torn ligament in your shoulder meant you would be stuck at a desk for about two months.

You shuffled the papers back into the manila folder and cleared your throat before calling out a brusque, “come in.”

While you were expecting someone to come in and add more to the growing piles of reports that you needed to type out. Since you weren’t able to be in the field, everyone on your team assumed that you would gladly take on their grunt work.

The massive form of Lieutenant Riley filled the doorframe and you instinctively glanced at his hands for some files, relieved to see something other than those fucking folders. But your brow raised as he stepped into your office and brandished what he held in his gloved hands.

“They gave me an extra sandwich by accident,” he said in lieu of an explanation. “Cook thinks I need to eat the whole fuckin’ Mess. Figured you’d need t’eat something since you weren’t there.”

You spared a glance at the clock on your computer and let out a noncommittal hum. Huh. Guess you were so focused on getting through all this work that you missed dinner call. That sparked your body into making you aware of the stiffness of your joints. You sat back against your chair, a small groan escaping you as your spine stretched and popped.

“Yeah, thanks.” You gestured with your uninjured hand for him to sit across from you. The lieutenant eased himself down into the small wooden desk chair and grimaced at the creak it emitted as it strained under his mass. He leaned forward and placed the sandwich on top of the file you had been working on before sitting back, eyeing the pile that had amassed in the corner of your desk.

“These all yours?” he grunted. You huffed out a laugh that turned into a triumphant cry when you successfully got the sandwich unwrapped.

“Clearly not considering I’m the only asshole around here who finishes their shit on time. Apparently desk duty means being the paperwork lackey. I’m surprised you haven’t caught on and brought me something to type up.”

His dark eyes studied the pile of papers and then he picked them up, thumbing through the paperwork. You didn’t worry about him looking at it. He was of equal rank as you and, while you weren’t 141, you operated in similar circles and collaborated on missions enough to know that he was a cold bastard, but he wouldn’t jeopardize anything.

“Any of these my guys?”

“Nah, MacTavish and Garrick would never.” You took a bite of the dry sandwich and nearly moaned. It was boring and plain and tasted a bit like sawdust, but you were starving. Simon silently nudged your water bottle closer to you and you nodded in thanks. He snapped the files close and set them back on the edge of the desk, the corner teetering off the side and nearly tipping over under the weight.

“Arm’s alright?” Ever the conscientious leader. The constant ache of your torn ligament and broken bone was frustrating, but it was a nice reminder that you were alive. The fall had been from a warehouse walkway when an assailant tossed his empty gun and instead went for a tackle that sent you both over the edge. You twisted your body to make sure he took the brunt of the fall, but your arm hit the ground first after he did. The evac had been a nightmare and couldn’t get in for three hours. Three hours of brutal pain radiating with every move as you and your team held back an onslaught of fire until the 141 was sent to finish business.

“I live to see another day,” you said, with both a hint of humor and the tension of your tentative morality lining your words. You sat back in your chair and winced as your arm jostled against your side.

“You should be resting,” he chastised.

You scoffed. “You’re one to talk. Didn’t you come back to work three hours after your appendix burst?”

His mask hid his face, but you could see the slight crinkle of his eyes and that was enough to confirm that the bastard was smirking. You had seen him walk out of medical after they dug two bullets out of his shoulder. There was a reason why the Ghost was such a legend. He didn’t answer but instead pointed at your food and you dutifully took another bite.

“Your team is a bunch of dicks,” he finally said. You bristled at his words and immediately went to defend your men, but he simply raised a hand to stop any arguments. That just made your skin prickle even more with indignation.

“Don’t get me wrong, they’re good at what they do. But you’re better. Price has asked about bringing you onto our team.”

“Pretty sure I’d slow you down,” you muttered. Yeah, your team had no qualms in dropping piles of paperwork on your desk, leaving their shit in the gym for you to clean up, and made a point of never inviting you out after work hours. But you didn’t join the military to become best buddies with everyone. You were good at your job, but you weren’t task force material. The 141 were the guys that went in when no one else could. You were the person they sent in when it was a mid-level threat.

“Top of your recruitment class, high marks in everything except in things we can easily train you on. Besides, we got some demolition nuts already. Don’t need a third one of you or Price will go gray by next year. You’re one of the best analysts and have prepared more missions than most. Price thinks you should join us.”

You took a sip of your water to jostle the dryness out of your throat and then screwed the cap back on. Your eyes caught his and you met his stare head on. The Ghost should scare you. He should make you avert your gaze and apologize for daring to look.

He had never made you feel that way. From the moment you were assigned to this base, to this unit, to this office, the Ghost had been distant but decently nice. You had seen him ream out privates for forgetting to tuck their pants into their boots before. Hell, you could hear him yelling at privates and cadets as they attempted the obstacle courses in the pouring rain while you were inside. But he had never raised his voice with you. 

Sure, he had been firm and even snapped once or twice, but he hadn’t yelled the way he had at the kid who tracked mud through the halls last week. Simon made him get a bucket and a brush and to scrub the floors by hand so the janitors wouldn’t have to clean up his mess.

“You’re an established team already. I would just throw off the dynamics.”

“Garrick and Soap already agree they want you in,” he retorted.

Maybe you had a concussion too. Your mind was fuzzy with the details when the 141 came to evac your team. The pain had started to make your brain go foggy when they breached the building. How did you get onto the heli? Surely you walked, right? But you can also remember someone shaking you. That hurt like a bitch. Your team hadn’t given a shit about you at that point when they were busy saving their own hides. 

“What do you think about me joining?” The words left you before you could reel them back. You wanted to know. You were terrified of the answer. He had given you this hope, but was he cruel enough to take it away? Was this the Ghost toying with you? You wished you could see his face.

He merely stood and grabbed the stack of files from your desk, nodded curtly, and exited your office without another word. You waited until the door shut behind him before you let out a long, frustrated breath.

“That motherfucker,” you swore under your breath. Fucking hell, your shoulder ached. Your head ached too. You let it fall against the cool wood of your desk and shut your eyes in an attempt to ward off the exhaustion, pain, and embarrassment that now burned its way through your chest.

Might as well get this goddamn fucking report done.

You sat back up, pushed it all aside, compartmentalized, breathed. You opened the folder and began to peck at the keyboard once more.

Once it was done and sent to the appropriate COs and channels, you grabbed your bag and made your way down the hall towards the Mess. You were almost out of the office quadrant when a gruff voice called your name. Captain Price exited his office and extended his hand, luckily the opposite of your uninjured one so it wasn’t an awkward shake.

“Got your transfer paperwork drawn up and ready, if you want to sign it before you head out. Get you over to our team faster. I’ve heard great things from your CO and I’ve seen the work you’ve done in the field. It’ll be nice having someone more level headed than those muppets.” He paused and an almost pained look took over his face. “How likely are you to accidentally set off an explosive just for shits and giggles?”

You stifled a laugh and followed him into his office so you could sign those papers.

“Simon has told me what he’s seen during your training. You’ll be a great asset to have on the 141,” Price continued once you signed your name without hesitation. You paused once his words sunk in and looked up at your new boss.

“Ghost has talked about me?”

“Christ, I think he might be ready to make some fucking t-shirts with your face on it. Thought he damn near ripped the spines out of those boys who had you doing their reports. Don’t tell him I told you that. He’d take a right fucking piss out of me.”

“Your secret’s safe with me, sir,” you assured.

“Right, dismissed then. Be here at 0700 tomorrow. I don’t give a shit if you’re on IR, we’ll find something for you that isn’t pecking the keys until your eyes fall out from staring at that screen.” You nodded and didn’t even try to fight the smile that crept onto your face. It lingered on your face, right next to the phantom touch of the Ghost’s gloves when he grasped your face the moment they found you in that warehouse.

[muffinsin]

you know what, fuck it we ball. i gave the dani and cass monsterfucker prompts, lemme cook one up for bela real fast in your ask box while i am yet again sleep deprived.

let’s put bela with a lycan (heh). feel like we’ve seen a couple lycan requests, but i’m gonna put a breeding focus on this one. similar to cass’ i guess. sweet, darling bela is gunna have to carry a litter of lycan pups to full term, though.

she’s thinking about that and all the consequences that come with it the whole time she’s getting railed after having been pounced on, and for some reason being unwilling to push the beast off. pheromones? she’s a little loopy on them, it’s clouding her judgement. not to mention this situation, unfortunately, really turns her on, despite the fact that she’s soo anxious about the fat knot smacking against her cunt getting forced inside, and so anxious about being pumped full of so much werewolf cum that makes her look pregnant alone. starts thinking about how many pups she might be given. will it be a whole litter? how many pups come in a lycan litter? how is that going to affect her body? etc. thinks about lactation too. probably gotta produce a whole lot to feed a litter, ya know?

very big on bela mommy issues dimitrescu being a sucker for this kind of stuff deep in the back of her mind. she wants to be a breeding toy, she just doesn’t quite know it. lycan lover will help her out.

picturing them not being able to really speak while transformed. maybe a couple words here and there, but it’s difficult. they’re really mostly a monster right now. not so much of a monster that they won’t give her some sweet aftercare lovin’ while she cockwarms them due to the inflated knot being unlikely to go down for a good while, though. oh, and they’re Hung. “it won’t fit!” kind of hung, but they make it work 🥴

- 🐺

Hell yeah!🙌 My much needed reminder that I write smut? Perhaps XD At last, after months, poor Bela is getting some monsterfucking loving too, hm? XD Let’s get into it, everyone!

Masterlists

In one moment, she feels curiosity. In the next, her body tenses as a loud roar is heard echoing in the dimly lit cave. Bela bites down on her lip harshly, her bright, golden eyes scanning over the stony edges of the walls of the cave.

She feels slightly dizzy, her brain fuzzy, her limbs oddly heavy. A thick scent lingers in the air, one she feels strangely tempted to follow.

She can’t recall why she entered the cave in the first place, not usually one for such curiosity.

And yet..now she can’t seem to leave again. As if in a trance, she keeps on walking, uncaring of her heels scraping against the stone and muddy ground. She feels slightly cold, just enough for her to shiver, yet not quite enough to pose a threat.

She jumps a little when she hears a loud snarl again. What is she doing? She can’t seem to resist the scent clouding her judgement and senses.

Bela’s eyes widen slightly for a moment when- at last- she finds the source of this sound. A creature, curled up, yet monstrous in size. If it were to stand, she is sure it would be towering above her, and only stand slightly shorter than Alcina herself.

She keeps on walking, until she stands, frozen, right in front of the creature. Her eyes widen suddenly, as if only now aware of it. What is she to do?

To slay the beast? Gulping, she gazes around the cave, trying to find anything to use to her advantage. However..nothing. She scans the lycan-like monster again.

Large, muscular, with sharp teeth pointing out from its mouth. She shivers again. No, fighting the beast is not an option.

Still, as she stares the creature down..

Bela’s body tenses again, her eyes flickering over it. She sees the sharp claws, the strong torso…

Her eyes land on the large, still limp cock between the creature’s legs. Suddenly, the scent grows stronger, and without understanding why or standing any chance at resisting it, her body lurches forwards, and suddenly her face is smudged against the warm, oddly comforting thigh.

She sees the massive thing twitch, her eyes wandering over the thick knot wearily.

She can’t quite understand. All she does, is feel.

She feels her body submitting to the monster, her pussy aching and drooling, her heart yearning to be close. She doesn’t understand.

As if in a trance, her hands move across her body. She removes her cape and hood, then her dress. Left only in her underwear, stockings and heels, Bela positions herself along the creature’s large arm.

She doesn’t even notice she has begun rutting her clothed pussy against it.

Then, the creature stirs. Her eyes widen, and for a moment she seems able to rip herself away. She turns halfway to her swarm form fast, making for the way out. She recognizes it, is almost there..

Then, she shrieks, as large paw-like hands push against her back and force her to the ground, and the large creature hovers above her. She’s pinned, struggling against the dirty and wet ground.

Then, she tenses, as a long tongue drags against her neck. She shivers, her nose picking up on the creature’s scent that now sticks to her.

Another lick, and another. She feels dizzy almost, her pussy clenching and aching, yearning for the creature’s large cock. She feels shame; has she always been this easy? Surely not! Have years of neglecting her sexual side and sex with the staff turned her into this? Turned her into a slut easy enough to even get turned on by a lycan of all things?! What would Mother think!

Bela gasps when she is turned roughly, her head throbbing for a moment before she can realise what is happening. She feels and hears her clothing tear, sharp teeth and claws slashing through the skin tight dress and grazing her pale, porcelain skin slightly.

She doesn’t attempt to push the creature off, she can’t, and somehow, doesn’t want to. All she feels is its large cock, limp before and slowly hardening against her thigh. To her horror, the thing grows as it hardens, so the monstrosity turns to an even huger dick. She whimpers momentarily.

How could this fit? What’s going to happen to her? Will it breed her? Somewhere in the back of her mind she realises..summer is breeding season.

She gasps when the sandpaper-like tongue drags down her neck, leaving almost slimy saliva in its path. She shivers underneath the lycan, golden eyes taking in the monster’s form. Then, she jumps, when sharp teeth graze her hip.

Suddenly, her head is filled with the desire to be bitten, to be claimed in the most intimate and primal of ways. She yearns for it, suddenly, her mind foggy, her body yearning, her back arching as though presenting her to her captor.

The lycan snarls and growls, and the blonde yelps when she feels the strong tongue lick across her inner thigh next.

“W-Wait!”, she shrieks as a massive hand wraps around her thick thigh, and gasps when she is spread open. With a single bite her underwear is snatched from her, leaving her shivering as the damp air of the cave hits her privates.

To her embarrassment, she is already soaked, her clit pulsing, her lips glistening with the wetness that drips from her.

The beast straddles her fully, its large clawed hands grabbing onto her petite wrists and pinning them above her head. Bela is a mess of thoughts.

What is happening? How come she is enjoying this so much?!

She feels so wet, she needs this so bad.

Never has she felt this turned on in her life..

She must get back! She must escape! Mother will be furious! Cassandra will never let her live it down! Daniela will never give her a break from the jokes and mockery!

She must feel the massive cock in her..so thick, so strong, already twitching as it is aligned to hang proudly between her legs.

Bela whimpers as she feels the thick, glistening wet tip against her tight pussy. Having neglected her needs in favor of working hard, she’s impossibly tight for the large cock dangling between her thighs. Let alone the huge knot…

The thought strikes fear into her mind. How could she possibly take the massive girth? How could her pussy ever recover from the stretch?

How could she take such a large knot? How could it ever fit into her?! What if..

What if she is bred?

Her eyes widen a little at the thought. So what if she is bred? What if the beast pumps load after load of thick cum into her?

The proud heiress of Alcina Dimitrescu, the noblest of her sisters, reduced to a cum dump, made to become a mate and be bred until she carries a litter of lycans in her womb.

She gasps, then screams and moans, as the thick tip pushes into her. Its soft head goes in easily despite the tightness, and Bela moans when, after years, she finally feels full again.

Yet, upon glancing down, she sees that barely the tip has made it in. There is a lot to go, still, and she already feels it as warm, no- hot, precum drools from the monstrous lycan and right into her.

Her thoughts wander more and more the foggier her brain gets and the higher she seems to get on the pheromones and scent surrounding her.

How many lycans make a litter? Two? Three? Six? Seven? Twelve?! She can’t remember, but by the size of the knot sitting at the base of the cock, she must fear for the worst.

Her hip is grabbed, then a strong arm is wrapped around her. She feels more of the cock push itself inside of her.

Her back arches and she feels the arm around her tighten, then can’t help but giggle when she is lifted off the floor.

“A-AAh! AH! Gnmnn!”

She throws her head back, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as she feels more and more fill her.

At last, she feels the knot pushed up against her stretched pussy.

“Ple-Please!”, she gasps. How on earth could she fit that knot into her?! As the creature’s hips pull back and the cock begins to slip out of her, she feels her pussy grip it tightly. It’s as though every part of her body tries to keep the monstrosity in her, as though despite what fears plague her mind, her body is eager and relentless to be bred.

For a moment, shame has her cheeks burn up and flush bright pink. She moans as she feels the long tongue explore her neck and grunts in pleasure as her captor’s hips slap back against her own.

“N-Ngnnm, yes! Y-yes! O-Oh god!”

They draw back, then snap to her again, making her jolt. She tugs her arms half heartedly, and unsurprisingly, the lycan’s grip only tightens on her.

She moans with every little drop of hot wetness that leaks into her. She gasps as thick and heavy balls slap against her ass, plap! Plap! Plap! With every thrust.

So thick..Bela’s head is thrown back as she merely thinks of how much cum they must hold inside. How much she will be made to cold inside.

“I-Oh..yes! Yes! A-Ah!”, she screams. She feels herself pushed closer and closer to her orgasm already within moments of this treatment.

But really, she can’t be blamed! Not when poor Bela’s pussy and body is unused to such treatment, when she clenches tightly around the cock and feels it stretch her more with every thrust.

And how can she be blamed, when she feels the thick tip push up against the back of her womb when it is fully nestled inside of her, when she feels the wet head rub up against her pink, spongy and wet insides.

She groans and moans, louder and louder and louder.

And the creature seems painfully aware of her state. She is grabbed hard and yanked about, her petite body used to practically jerk her up and down on the massive cock.

When she cums embarrassingly fast, tears begin to run down her cheek. Yet she yearns for more, fear and arousal filling her mind when she feels the heavy knot push up against her.

Even with a stretched pussy, she can’t imagine a single way such a thing could fit into her!

She gasps and moans loudly with every thrust into her wet and tight cunt. Each causes the thick knot to smack against her and nearly has her flinch each time.

Truly, she can’t grasp how such a thing could ever fit into her!

It seems, too, her monstrous captor couldn’t care less that she came. If anything, Bela feels the talons holding her tightening and the cock within her twitch.

Yes, she can imagine she is quite warm, wet and tight around the beast now. And still she gasps and moans high pitched with every little thrust and move into and out of her.

She is yanked and pulled, the rough treatment accompanied by almost sweet licks against her neck. She feels lightheaded already, little sighs escaping her thick lips here and there.

As she is fucked faster and she feels more and more precum drip into her, her attention is pulled to the fact she is being bred yet again.

And again, it feels her with a strange warmth that has her cheeks heat up, her ass clench and her pussy grip the cock stretching her sore tightly.

She wonders, will she bear a round stomach as she carries a litter of Lycans? The thought has her whimper and arch her back as best as she can.

Yes, she is already reeking of the creature, after all!

Will her breasts grow even larger and ache, so full of milk for her little pups? Bela gasps at the thought alone.

“N-A-AAh! AH! Ah! Yes! YES!”

She screams, loud and passionate, when she suddenly feels the teeth that have been rubbing against her neck push inside.

Warmth spreads throughout her body. She’s shaking, trembling and moaning, gasping and shrieking as she cums again. She knows, deep down, the bite has claimed her as the creature’s.

She groans when she suddenly feels cum be shot into her, massive amounts enough to cover her entire face- head even- if it was shot into it.

She squirms helplessly as she is pumped full of it, her arms held tightly, her neck forced still by sharp teeth, her pussy plugged with the cock as more and more cum floods her insides.

Her eyes widen as she looks down and finds her own stomach, growing more and more the more seed is pumped inside. She whines, her legs attempting to cross, her hips trembling in an attempt to move. But the large cock stays inside, and the beast only snarls angrily at her foolishness.

Soon, her stomach is round and full, large enough for poor Bela to let herself lean fully against the ground and the lycan, too weak and sore to carry the unexpected weight of her cum-filled stomach.

Already, it looks as though the monster impregnated her.

For a moment, the creature only pants. Bela catches her breath at last as she moves her hand to her neck, her bottom lip becoming trapped between her teeth as she feels two large bite marks on there. Blood smears around it, but below the sweet fluid, she feels the puncture wounds.

Then, however, her excitement is cut short and replaced by terror, arousal and fear.

The knot.

She mewls as it presses against her stretched pussy, harder and harder. She feels it throb and its warmth, its sheer size…

“It won’t fit!”, she pleads. The creature seems to think otherwise, as it snarls and growls, its grip tightening on Bela for a moment. She gasps when she is flipped over, so now her bare breasts are pushed up against the hard rock and muddy ground.

Her round stomach aches as it rests on the floor and poor little Bela whimpers in embarrassment as she feels more cum leak from her pussy again with every single breath.

She feels her leg be pulled to the aside and shivers slightly as the warm air of the cave hits her wet privates.

Then, she feels the knot push against her again. The monstrous lycan mounts her easily, its sheer size alone dominating the blonde.

Then, with a scream and a moan of pleasure, she feels it, finally. The knot, impossibly big, forced into her soaked pussy and sealing it like a plug. She whimpers and moans loudly.

She is grabbed tightly, her stomach a shameful, but arousal reminder of her new status as this monster’s mate and breeding puppet.

She gasps when there is even slight movement. More, and more. The creature can’t thrust into her with the knot in the way, but even the smallest of movements and turns give both insane amount of pleasure.

Bela is panting again quickly, her hands cupping her stomach and breast. She feels the blood pour from her neck, down her collarbone and past her breasts.

She feels her last orgasm of the day rising already within a few moments, her body seemingly automatically responding to the large knot inside.

When the creature bends down to lick her swollen stomach, she nearly cums from it alone. Yes…all this seed in her, the knot..she knows, she will be bred and impregnated.

Her cheeks heat up, her nipples harden, her ass clenches and tightens around nothing. Her pussy milks the cock and knot in her.

Bela whimpers and moans, pants even. She can’t bring her mind to think of anything but being what she is made to be now, a breeding toy. A future mother to a litter of lycans.

She thinks of her round belly, her sore and aching breasts leaking milk, a dozen little wolves running around.

She thinks of possessiveness, the one the creature has already showered her in.

A few more movements, and with a scream, the beautiful blonde cums again. She mewls as her mate does the same, the large, hard knot at least shrinking slightly in her.

She is held close as she whimpers and cries, her stretched pussy pumped full to the brink, so much so her own cum and the creature’s heavy, thick one. She feels the cum drip and smear everywhere, even.

Then, it seems over at last. Her eyes are heavy, her stomach even rounder and fuller. The knot rests in her, as if still acting like a plug that traps the creature’s seed in her.

Exhausted, she allows the large thing to shift her. She feels soft fur against her, and a gentle tongue running along her throat and stomach.

It’s almost..lovingly.

With a smile on her lips, she allows her eyes to slip shut

[theaverageptncasualenjoyer]

The garden. (Fem Priv investigator reader)

An: Oh god... I hope that this wouldn't FLOP 😭 I made this blog entirely for practice writing in the 🌹 romance 🌹 department 😨 And in honor of choosing miss Coquelic as my pfp... I'll make her the first experiment for this fic... Slight nsfw/suggestive towards the end... After receiving orders from the chief, you wind up investigating the Garden. A secret assassin organization that was run by a sinner, that sinner being Coquelic, who is the one that you are NOT supposed to meet, since you do not have enough resources to defend yourself from the sinner, but also have not been given permission to arrest the suspect. You found out the FAC commissioner that was supposed to investigate this case was killed of by the members of the Garden, making you feel a little uneasy. They're going to be after you next if you were to overstep their territory... Which, you don't plan on doing at all. You were only to investigate and figure out how they were able to commit such crimes in a short amount of time. You are very aware of the gap between you and the others, you were not like Adjutant Nightingale, and definitely do not have the shackles of the chief... You feel insecure. Insecure about how you do not have the abilities of the others, enough to protect yourself from any imminent danger coming from the perpetrators... You heaved a deep sigh. Reeling from the fact you were brooding and weren't doing what you were supposed to at in the first place. Making you snap out of it and get back on track. At the sudden notice from the chief that I'll be facing the Garden's leader, I began to pace back and forth due to the sudden turn of events a day after being assigned to investigate the Garden. I couldn't resist asking that why it wasn't her...? You didn't have anything to defend yourself from such a strong sinner, so how are you supposed to deal with her when you are in fact, powerless? The chief picks up on your nervous state, then the chief assured that she'll be there to stop her from doing anything to me. That wasn't reassuring at all. Regardless, I attempt to keep a cool demeanor, masking my anxiety. In an hour or two, I will be facing the Mentor. I have to calm down. An hour later, the time has finally arrived. You began to make your way into the interrogation room to see chief before starting the interrogation. The chief and I had a small chat, she as always, gives me that gentle smile, it almost alleviates my anxiety, but the nerves were starting to get to me. It didn't go unnoticed by chief, who patted my shoulder as if to ward off the nervousness that plagued both my thoughts and body. She hands me important documents, I thank her and asked her a question. "Chief, before I enter the room... Is there a reason why it should be me instead of you...?" You cursed inwardly at the way you sounded a little too timid... The chief's soothing voice registered in your ears, soothing the soul and making your shoulders free from the stiffness it once held. "It is because Coquelic asked for you specifically. She didn't state the reason why." It made me feel weird hearing it, especially the fact that I never have even met the Mentor before, so how did she come to know me? Could it be there is an ulterior motive behind this? Had she planned to kill me to taunt the chief...? They have intelligence on everyone, so it wasn't far fetched to assume that way. I am the weakest link in the MBCC, after all.

I heaved a deep sigh. Finally entering the room. Her eyes immediately met mine, making me tense up immediately. It had this... Peculiar glow that made me feel odd... But alas, I still had an interview to conduct so, I sat down in front of her, and started asking a series of questions. Taking notes at the chief's advice and notes about previous interrogation, I made sure to avoid asking questions that can provoke anger from the Mentor. Her eyes had not once left my figure during the whole interview, making me overthink things once again. Perhaps she is waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike... But I wouldn't give her the benefit from inviting herself in for an easy kill... After finishing up the interview, I hear her speak. "You seem to be tense during the whole interview. I do not bite." I stayed silent, eyes on the papers still. "Look at me. Am I not good enough for you?" I snapped my eyes at her, blinking rapidly, and my mouth agape from shock. The Mentor smiled widely. She enjoyed your reaction very much... "Good. I'll have you know that you should feel blessed that I have graced you with my presence. It is uncommon for people... Especially for you to see me in broad daylight." I gave a small nod. Replying politely. "...It's an honor to meet you." I kept it short, as I didn't want to do something that can make her feel displeased with me. "Loosen up. You're doing it again." The mentor attempt to soothe me, standing up from the chair and inched towards me. Making me stiffen more at the slowly approaching figure. "You should know that I don't intend to harm you, dear. I only want to get closer to you..." Her voice is silvery. Making me cautious of her true intentions... "Thank you for the assurance, Mentor." Making her look a bit frustrated at the mention of her title. "Oh, don't be so cold... Investigator. You can call me by my name..." In a honeyed tone. I don't buy it. "As you wish, Coquelic..." Coquelic can sense the hesitance from your tone, making her brows furrowed in sadness(?) "What does it take for you to trust me that I mean what I said about bringing you no harm...? Do I not seem trustworthy at all...?" Her tone was thick with emotion, I was alerted by the chief about her surging mania level... I had to diffuse the situation. I needed to act fast. I looked back at Coquelic, who seemed to be growing more and more affected by my silence... I hastily responded, "I... I am not used to meeting people like you... Coquelic, I am nervous about dissatisfying you due to my bland persona, I didn't mean to upset you." Her eyes then softened, returning to it's usual state instead of the hostile expression. "I see... Then, you don't need to act so stiff around me. I wouldn't think less of you if you somehow managed to anger me." She sounded so sure about it, that I couldn't help but tilt my head slightly in confusion. She smiles at the action, before standing right in front of me, grabbing an orange blossom out of nowhere, my eyes follow her hand, as she tucks it on my ear gently. "An orange blossom, a flower that symbolizes chastity, purity, and loveliness. Do you perhaps see me as pure..?" I inquired, reaching to touch the flower. She warmly smiled. "You can think of it that way, but I prefer... The definition being, lovely. I think you are as lovely as a flower. This flower describes you best." Making my cheeks have a slight tint. Coquelic doesn't miss the effect she had on me. "...Thank you for the gift." She waves a hand dismissing my thanks. "No need to show much appreciation for such a small gift. There will be plenty more from where it came from. Visit me in my garden, I can provide you with something far more better." Her inviting voice enchants me, prompting me from being unable to decline such a lovely offer. "I'll see to it if I have the time..." Her next response caught me off guard. "Oh, dearest... You needn't not to worry about such trivial matters... What is important to me, is that I'll ensure it, that you may be able to come to my garden, no matter what.."

She sounded almost possessive, that broke the romantic aura that had surrounded the room. I cleared my throat, shoving my gloved hand on my pocket, as if to reach something in my coat pocket, but in reality, I was calming my rapidly beating heart. I didn't want to fall for her charms too easy, I had to get a grip of myself. For all I could know her sweet words are tainted with poison. I'd rather not engage in such matters... But the hearts speaks for the soul. It does not calm down after my attempts to get it to beat normally. I stood up, dusting off my coat and adjusted my tie... "I must go now, the interrogation is over. You may resume to what you originally sought after, miss Coquelic." She frowned, at the sudden formalities being reintroduced back to the conversation, again. I flinched as a cold hand reaches to grip my wrist. Preventing me from leaving. "I thought we've already established a relationship? One that excluded formalities, dear?" I suppressed the urge to shiver, my pulse speeding up once more... "I... Apologies... I am not feeling well." She replied, shooting me a knowing look. "Are you perhaps not feeling well after I had flirtatiously asked you on a date, dearest investigator? Is that it?" Her bold proclamation had made my cheeks burn. Now, it was obvious that it is likely. "I... This is inappropriate. I cannot engage in fraternization, especially pursuing a romantic relationship with someone who is... In a higher standing than me." The way you worded it made you more appealing to the woman, causing her to caress the flesh on your wrist, making an effort to breach your defenses, her hand gliding through the fabric of your coat, making you feel more of her touch... You swallowed thickly, pushing away invasive thoughts about... Her actions. "This is what I like about you, darling... You don't see me as less, you see me as more. Better than the others who do not see me in the way that YOU do." She purred, invading my personal space. "Can't you see that I desire you, dear investigator? I've been watching you for a while now... The moment I laid my eyes on you, you were always mine to possess. From the start, and until the end, you are mine." I couldn't help the way that it frightens me and makes me feel things at the same time... Making my breath uneven at the confession... "H-how long have you been stalking me?" She grins, unfazed by my poor word choice. "Ever since you were at the FAC... You got promoted into a higher position, you saw how Sinners were being mistreated, you resigned from your position immediately after the incident... Beloved, can't you see? I've fallen for you. It goes deeper and deeper the more I get to see you..." I couldn't help but tremble at the realization that she had been watching me for awhile now. She is responsible for my paranoia. Her eyes had glowed darker, seemingly growing more infatuated at the officer, her hand gripping her wrist in a manner that held a deeper meaning that had the officer feeling caged. "Do you remember visiting a greenhouse? Where you take care of the flowers day by day, unknowingly charting towards the garden's territory... Do you recall the day that you had chosen to gift me with such, beautiful flowers? I swooned at the way you cared so much about them. Thinking that there will be someone who are to take care of the flowers... You left the greenhouse, full of life, and I couldn't resist accepting such gifts..." She sighed dreamily, clearly recalling the moment. The chief had used her shackles to restrain Coquelic and calm her mania level. I hyperventilated as the chief went inside and pulled me out of there. I thanked her, and immediately handed her the files, I abruptly left the room. Coquelic glared at the chief for interrupting her precious time with her investigator, demanding angrily to take her to the officer. Chief uses the power of the shackles to calm her down. After managing to bargain Chief into seeing her dear investigator once more, she finally complied with the Chief, happily thinking of her dearest...

After a week, I was tasked by the Chief to accompany Coquelic outside of MBCC. On a mission. I was hesitant to accept but Chief had convinced me to take the mission. So, I met up with Coquelic... And she had disguised herself as an officer... You were still pretty shaken up about the whole event last week, so it was only natural that you became tense at her once again; making her feel frustrated at going back to square one. But of course, she didn't want to show it, it might scare you away from her again. So she decided to approach it with a different strategy this time.

"I dressed up as a fellow officer just for you, investigator." I feigned surveying our surroundings just to not meet her eye. She notices, making her mania level slowly rise up again. But you can tell with the way she is looking at you, making you let out a shaky sigh. She did not miss the way your attempt to calm your shaking hand... Making her feel more... Incompetent and feel her efforts were in vain. I attempt to lighten up, chuckling awkwardly. "For me? Hahaha... I see. You wanted to replicate my occupation as a private investigator?" She smiled, satisfied at her own actions. "You may interpret it that way, but I did it to rid you of the tense atmosphere that had once clouded the room during last week." I wasn't trying to think about what had happened in that time. But to think about her efforts in wanting to get close to me, I feel... Oddly touched in a way. Coqeulic felt that her plan is working, making the atmosphere lighter than before. We carry on with the mission; the mission being to stop a riot nearby... After stopping a riot nearby, with minor injuries, we were now walking back to the MBCC. I can feel her eyes on me, staring intensely at my figure. "Investigator, your hand... It's bleeding." She pointed out, I took notice a second late. Her eyes was starting to darken. Someone had lay a hand on their darling. They wouldn't let that slide. I watched as Coquelic took a hold of my injured hand, swiftly cleaning the cut, and bandaging it neatly. I thanked her, to which she responded "Anything for my dear investigator." It made my cheeks turn slightly red. She was happy at the result. "Do not fret. I shall deal with them accordingly when they are to meet me back in the MBCC." I shook my head, wanting no conflict. "It is alright, Coquelic. It is merely a small injury." Making her gasp in disbelief. "My dear...! It is not a minor injury... It is a large cut in your palm...! Do not perceive it as if it was a paper cut..." She sternly scolded, making me sheepish. "I... You're right." We were now walking in an empty, abandoned alleyway, making the atmosphere between us... Feel... A little hot. Again, Coquelic takes advantage of this situation to talk about... You. "Dear investigator, have you picked up gardening again? I saw the arrays of rare, and unique type of flowers in the Garden that I have never seen before in the MBCC's mini garden. Making me freeze up at the mention, as if caught like a deer in headlights. "I... Yes, I have picked it up again once more." I say in a small voice, failing to hide the embarrassment at the mention of my hobby. "I enjoyed the display. It was neatly arranged, almost as if you meant to woo me once again unknowingly. You and I have a shared affinity of flowers, my dear. You know very well that I am also well versed at the language of flowers, just as you are..." She affectionately said, making my cheeks grow more redder than before. She continued, "The arrangement were a ray of basils for good wishes, then a ray of red carnations, a sign for deep affection, the last one being pink camellias; longing." Making my blush worsen at how she was able to figure it out. "There's no escaping you, is there?" She softly purred. "There isn't, my dear. I now know how you feel about me..." She takes a step forward, cupping my cheek delicately. "I return the same affections as well, but I would add red camellias for being a flame in my heart, white clover for you to think of me all the time, heliotrope for eternal love, and lastly red salvia symbolizing that you are forever mine..." She whispered so sweetly, making me tremble at her touch. "Isn't it romantic that we reciprocate feelings of love towards one another? But my love is different from yours." Her face inched closer to mine. "My love, I want both of your heart and soul. Your body is a temple that I aim to worship." Making my knees weak at the statement.

"Coquelic... You know that we mustn't engage in romantic affairs... It is forbidden to enter in such a relationship." My breath hitched, putting my hand above hers that caressed my cheek. She had gotten rid of her hair tie, the police cap, and the sunglass she wore earlier. She stared amorously, further strengthening the growing intense atmosphere... "You don't understand... I want you. Badly. I ache for you to surrender yourself to me. I desire deeply to claim you as mine." I couldn't take it anymore. I smashed my lips against hers... Making the first move. She smiles onto the kiss, deepening it further. Her kisses stole my breath, deeply imprinting how deep her love had went for me... I whimpered in her mouth as she prodded her tongue into my wet cavern, making her hum in approval. We finally pulled away for air. She craved for more. I want her too. I let myself be enclosed by her body, leaning against the cold wall of the back alley... My cheeks were now scarlet red, mouth agape, enticing her to dive back in... "You look so endearing... It's like you are asking me for more..." I surprised her with my response. Voice laced with need and want... A plead that had activated her carnal desire... "More... Please?" Her scarlet eyes had darkened. Her next words arousing me more... "I'll make love to you in a manner that will make you come crawling back for more..." I couldn't resist to pull her back in for another heated round of making out.

[dflogerzi]

Hello friends. Okay, I spent some time offline, and did speak in length to a dear friend in England today. I think I understand a few things more. Firstly... there are no rules. And this is my timeline, and I get to change it as I see fit. When I first came to Tumblr it was for one purpose, I kid you not. I knew that Meghan Markle was in her supposed first pregnancy... and I knew it was a lie. I have carried a baby, I know how it works, and she was in my opinion lying. This timeframe coincided with my recent awakening of world events and falling down other rabbit holes.

I was gung-ho on both. And I must say, the world events thing did not serve me well on social media. I have never found it beneficial to argue with others about things we do not agree with. And so a few months into my profile building here on Tumblr and connecting I set my own rules on what it is I am here for. And trust me... the people I have connected with mean so much to me. Now then... I do follow some who I only give out likes to and more private conversations. You know who you are. So for the record I am going to be clear of who I am.

I served under Ronald Reagan while in the Navy. I was always more on the conservative side, although I used to joke that as a Californian, I was sitting on the wall in between and fell over to the right. I used to think a lot of liberal policies sounded good on paper, but that in reality they did not work very well. That has been proven to be true in my estimation. But let me be clear. I do not think the Republican view as it stands today is working out either in a bulk of cases, especially in Washington D.C. Our government is seriously compromised within both parties, and I am also speaking of all branches. Neither party is what it once was, and if you are not aware of what the Global agenda is for the common person I cannot help you. And it is not my place in life to even attempt it. We all journey as we do.

I then found my feet here. My goals were to talk of things I am interested in, loved all my life, and to find some fun in my days. When I stick to that... I thrive. But I am finding that as many more are awakening to the fact that our world is slipping away... we are all talking more. And the planned divisiveness is impacting all of us.

It is going to get worse. No matter what your stand is. And I completely believe this summer is going to get rough in the US. Very rough.

So what did I decide? Well... I want to be here. If I drift off, which was surprisingly easy this week, I do not get to enjoy dishing on all things royal, art, history, travel, spiritual life, pets, and the love I have for friends I have made here.

I may veer off to world events. I am no longer affiliated with any political party. I do not believe there are many in places of power who have our best interests at heart. When the WEF says that population control is a main agenda, I believe them. I have done my studying and digging... and I understand. History is repeating itself, but there is no one who will be landing on a shore in Normandy to save our world any longer.

I am not going to try to influence a single soul here. Nope. I just want to vent a bit on how dumb and ridiculous Harry is, how narcissistic I find Meghan, how much I admire Anne, and my hopes for Catherine's full recovery. I also want to read your posts on cute furry creatures, other lands and travels, inward journeys, art, and whatever else it is in life the day brings. But I admit that I may slip, and I go off on a world event. I apologize for it now. Just scroll on by if you would.

I had a tough time since last summer. I did. But that is what life can bring. And hopefully we grow. And in the end it will be what we take with us. Many changes do come on life's paths.

Love to friends. Thanks for listening. Going to just post this mess, warts and all.

[bestworstcase]

How do you (and everyone else) have such an encyclopedic knowledge of the rwby show? I can’t remember shit, is there a Salem all scenes compilation somewhere? I feel like I need it for like notes on a test. help (I am having a good time but feel lost sometimes and would like to be able to follow the discussions)

i can't speak for anyone else but i do actually. take notes. whenever i rewatch, which i've done...i don't know how many times since i got into the show in the first place a few years ago. my copies of the ebooks have highlights and notes all over 'em. and i just sort of have a mental catalogue of when various things happen so i can open an episode and click right to the relevant time stamp if i need to double-check something, or reference transcripts on the wiki (this is the only thing the wiki is good for).

<- im aware that this sounds like way too much but idk how else to enjoy things. bfhks i get bored otherwise. 😭

[vasito-de-leche]

I have some thoughts in my mind lately in the Self aware au R1999 (I'm invested so badly), I was wondering are there any arcanist that resented the player maybe at first or still having resentment on them? Because if the player wasn't there they would be " free " (which I would doubt since there are many players and it would still happen nonetheless but just speaking from there perspective) did they just helplessly or casually got over it after some time and accepted the fact it was a game I mean they were levelled up by the player,the player was the reason why they were getting stronger and winning every battle but I have a feeling some arcanist would have some doubt in them since everything was just a script in the first place all the things that happened to them were meant to happen for the plot, I don't about how to reach when they find out that the player was a human though.. But just like earlier if the player never was here then they would be " free ",they wouldn't know it was just some game (they gonna go bree since they wouldn't exist)(RAHHH I might have wronged what I said in this😭 I just have a thought in my mind about them doubting, feeling frustrated and all...Btw I am badly down bad for your writing 💜💜💜 I admire it so well.. 🥹🫶🫶 can I get a hello Please.. ?💜🥹💜 I'd go crazy being noticed on a writer I admire)

hiiii helloooo hola bonjour and many other greetings o7 really glad you like my writing!

your question is very broad, so I can only make a quick list to categorize all the characters and how I think they'd feel overall towards the Player within this AU! since you only mentioned arcanist, I assume you mean the playable characters only, so that's also the group I'll be tackling

I don't have a good grasp on every single character, so some of these are subject to change as I learn more about them too o7

It's very, very complicated.

Vertin. Door. Mesmer Jr. Bkornblume. I consider these characters to be "outliers" in terms of how they perceive the Player--in the sense that their opinion fluctuates and varies a lot, so they cannot be easily labeled in any of the other categories. They're contradicting or find themselves at odds with themselves, seeing the figure of the Player and everything the Player represents as positive and negative influences simultaneously. To them, you're a close friend and a distant stranger, a saviour and a harbinger of ruin, a source of knowledge and the end of everything--you're all of these, all at once.

as for the rest, I only described the opposite ends of the spectrum and the neutral category!

Extremely resentful and hateful

Desert Flannel. Erick. Mondlicht. Oliver Fog. Pavia. Sonetto. Sweetheart. This one is pretty straightforward--these are the characters who are defensive, who feel like your mere existence is mocking them, who have gone through so much and feel humiliated to know you're casually looking at them from above, so out of reach and superior and unbothered by their pain. But also characters who are combative or quick to identify you as a threat, such as Pavia and Sonetto, because you go against everything they believe in.

Stressed, requires a lot of time to get over it

AliEn T. Bette. Bunny Bunny. Charlie. Ezra. Kanjira. Matilda. Pickles. Ulu.

Mostly troubled, but open to change

6. Mr. APPLe. Darley Clatter. Diggers. Druvis III. La Source. Lilya. Melania. Ms. Moissan. Poltergeist. Zima

Neutral, indifferent and/or unaffected

Baby Blue. Click. Dikke. Jessica. John Titor. Rabies. Sputnik. Tennant. Tooth Fairy. Twins Sleep. These characters remain neutral, but do not confuse their indifference or lack of reaction for ignorance. Some of them aren't quite lucid, conscious or old enough to fully understand their surrounding, such as Rabies and Twins Sleep, but I would say the rest are grounded enough as to not let a figure such as the Player affect them in any intense or extreme way. Some of them simply don't care because this entire reveal doesn't exactly change their routine nor perception of the world. Some are choosing to remain neutral until they gather more information to form a solid opinion.

Mostly curious, but open to change

A Knight. Cristallo. Kaalaa Baunaa. Ms. NewBabel. Necrologist. Satsuki. Spathodea. Voyager.

Eager to learn, requires a lot of stress to be affected

37. An-an Lee. Centurion. Eagle. Horropedia. Leilani. Nick Bottom. Shamane. Sotheby. X.

Extremely intrigued

Eternity. Medicine Pocket. Ms. Radio. ONiON. Regulus. TTT. The Fool. Regardless of how your existence affects these characters, their curiosity and the new opportunities and possibilities you bring along are much more important to them. These are characters who seek to profit from you in some way, who see you as a fascinating subject to study, who may even relate in a way to the role you play as the Player, who may pity you.

[traumacatholic]

Can you please pray for me im suffering too much and i am very suicidal. Thank you so so much. <3

Of course, may God bless you and have mercy on you. May He send you the comfort and strength that you need. Please also do try your best to reach out to people in your life about this, preferably a doctor if possible or look into a mental health support service that you can call or send an email to. It's always a good idea to have multiple forms of support that are aware of how you're currently feeling. And charitable mental health resources might be able to help you to engage with accessible resources and support. I know that at least here, some of them do offer workshops or free counselling and support that you can access.

I'm going to attach some prayers under the read more, hopefully some of them will be of help to you. Please also check my mental health tag, as I do share a lot of workbooks and other resources and apps that you might find beneficial to engage with. A lot of these resources are free.

Prayer against Depression: Prayer to the Mother of God

O my beloved Queen, my hope, O Mother of God, protector of orphans and protector of those who are hurt, the saviour of those who perish, and the consolation of all who are in distress: Thou seest my misery, thou seeset my sorrow and my loneliness. Help me; I am powerless. Give me strength. Thou knowest what I suffer, thou knowest my grief. Lend me thy hand, for who else can be my hope but thee, my protector and my intercessor before God? I have sinned before thee and before all people. Be thou my Mother, my consoler, my helper. Protect me and save me; chase grief away from me; chase away my lowness of heart and my despondency. Help me, O Mother of my God!

Prayer against Depression and Sorrow

O Greatly-merciful Master, Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me and cleanse me from every sadness and disturbance and cowardice. Drive away from me every spiritual choking and demonic sorrow, that I sense in my body and my soul. For You are our Joy, and the Hope of all the ends of the earth, and those far off at sea. Be merciful to me, O Master, upon my sins. Take from me the heavy burden of sin and despair. Drive far away from me every sadness and laziness. Confirm me in Your Love, and with unassailable hope and unshakable faith in You, through the intercessions of Your Spotless Mother, and all Your Saints. Amen.

Prayer for Mental Health

O Master, Lord my God, in Whose hands is my destiny: Help me according to Thy mercy, and leave me not to perish in my transgressions, nor allow me to follow them who place desires of the flesh over those of the spirit. I am Thy creation; disdain not the work of Thy hands. Turn not away; be compassionate and humiliate me not, neither scorn me, O Lord, as I am weak. I have fled unto Thee as my Protector and God. Heal my soul, for I have sinned against Thee. Save me for Thy mercy's sake, for I have cleaved unto Thee from my youth; let me who seeks Thee not be put to shame by being rejected by Thee for mine unclean actions, unseemly thoughts, and unprofitable remembrances. Drive away from me every filthy thing and excess of evil. For Thou alone art holy, alone mighty, and alone immortal, in all things having unexcelled might, which, through Thee, is given to all that strive against the devil and the might of his armies. For unto Thee is due all glory, honor and worship: To the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit, now and ever, and unto ages of ages. Amen (source)

Prayer to St. Anastasia the Greatmartyr

O holy saint Anastasia, healer and minister to captives, who did suffer greatly as a martyr while relieving the suffering of the poor and the sick, pray for us who are ill in soul and in body. Relieve us by your intercessions from the illnesses of our minds, from all evil temptation that seeks to disturb us, and from the suffering of our many afflictions. We ask these things boldly of you as you boldly approach the throne of our Lord Jesus Christ who alone is the Healer and Lover of Mankind. Amen.

Your lamb Anastasia, calls out to You, O Jesus, in a loud voice: ‘I love You, my Bridegroom, and in seeking You I endure suffering. In baptism, I was crucified so that I might reign in You, and I died so that I might live with You. Accept me as a pure sacrifice, for I have offered myself in love.’ Through her prayers save our souls, since You are merciful.

Prayers to Saint Dymphna (These can be said individually, or you could put them all together)

I turn to you, dear virgin and martyr, confident of your power with God and of your willingness to take my cause into your hands. I praise and bless the Lord for giving you to us as patron of the nervous and emotionally disturbed. I firmly hope that through your kind intercession He will restore my lost serenity and peace of mind. May He speak to my heart and reassure me: "My peace I give you. Let not your heart be troubled nor let it be afraid." Pray for me, dear St. Dymphna, that my nervous and emotional turmoil may cease, and that I may again know serenity and personal peace. Amen.

I appeal to you in my illness, dear St. Dymphna. I would be so grateful for a total and happy recovery, for the blessed gift of health in every fiber of my being. May the Lord Jesus, who mercifully healed the sick during His earthly days, have pity on me and make me well again. Ask Him to command sickness to depart and grant me a full measure of health, that I may rejoice in giving Him glory and praise. Amen.

Glorious St. Dymphna, you are the patron of the nervous and emotionally disturbed. I am certain, however, that your charity embraces everyone. I am certain that you lend a listening ear to any prayer offered for any special need. You will, I am sure, take my problem to heart and pray for me that it may be happily settled. (Here mention your special problem or difficulty.) You will plead for me and obtain the help I need. Already I offer you my sincere and grateful thanks, so great is my confidence that God will hear and answer your prayers. Amen. St. Dymphna, Virgin and Martyr, pray for us. St. Dymphna, patron of nervous and emotional illnesses, pray for us. St. Dymphna, crowned for the glory in heaven, pray for us. St. Dymphna, faithful to your covenant with Christ, pray for us. St. Dymphna, precious in the eyes of the Lord, pray for us. St. Dymphna, our helper in every need, pray for us. St. Dymphna, our friend at heave's court, pray for us.

[jtbb]

okay ill jump on the hyperspecific poll bandwagon

here's the wikipedia page for heritage language; it's most commonly defined as 'a minority language (either immigrant or indigenous) learned by its speakers at home as children, and difficult to be fully developed because of insufficient input from the social environment. the speakers grow up with a different dominant language in which they become more competent'.

it doesn't have to be a first language, just one you grew up with, but as an example: i learned mandarin first from my mom, but i was born in and grew up in the us, so i started learning english at age 2 and never got very good at my first language. its a weirdly important part of my identity and i just had to put it here cause im so confused when polls conflate 'first' and 'native' languages lol

[egoarc4de]

jerm.exe has been corrupted

[illegiblewords]

SOME ILLEGIBLE RAMBLES AND REFLECTIONS: ON GALE AND MYSTRA

I've been on the fence about whether to make this analysis specifically, but after seeing a few other discussions floating around figure it's worth offering another viewpoint in case it resonates.

These analyses in particular are very subjective and offer an interpretive option more than anything. I might allude to discussions I've seen elsewhere that I have different views from, but different views don't automatically mean personal dislike for me. Life would be boring if we all thought the same way, you know? Anyway. Hugeass post ahead, proceed at your own risk lol.

One of the arguments I've seen cropping up recently is the idea that romance between gods and mortals is inherently unequal, abusive, and problematic. I am very much of the mind that Mystra abused Gale. The developers at Larian have stated that every companion in Baldur's Gate 3 is a victim of abuse in some capacity. Some of my favorite romances over the years have been between gods and mortals. Mystra/Gale is not one of those. I think blaming the divine/mortal dynamic for any abuse misses the point. Moreover, it absolves Mystra of a huge amount of personal responsibility in the abuse she committed. I think it makes the abuse focus on what she is rather than who she is, how she looks at others, and how she treats others. I reflected on the divine/mortal pairings I've enjoyed compared to the dynamic between Gale and Mystra. In every divine/mortal romance I've loved, the god found wonder and saw a kind of power they lack in their mortal partner. This power stems directly from their mortality. There are experiences and perspectives specific to being mortal that are invaluable. The god doesn't relate to those experiences and perspectives the same way. The god always needs not only humility but equal respect for their mortal partner in some capacity. Additionally, the god acknowledges that being divine does not equate to omniscience. This is not a god according to the monotheistic definition. It's closer to an immortal being who excels in a very specific area and has certain responsibilities weighing on them. The god sees the forest but may no longer see trees, while the mortal sees trees but may not see the forest. There is value in what is ephemeral and fragile, just as there is value in what is permanent. The god and mortal need to bring balance to one another in the sense that the god helps the mortal find comfort in a bigger picture while the mortal reminds the god what it feels like to be small, vulnerable, and intimately connected to the world/other lives. A healthy divine/mortal romance requires recognition of multiple forms of strength, intelligence, and value. That very, very much is not what Gale and Mystra had. Another layer to the 'divine/mortal romance is always problematic' argument ties to questions of power imbalance. I would argue that even among human beings--power imbalance always exists. Human beings are not identical or interchangeable with one another. One partner might be brilliant at math and runs finances where the other partner would be lost. The other partner might be brilliant at people and can navigate social situations the mathematician would feel helpless in. One partner may be physically larger or stronger than another. The other partner has the full weight of social/legal support in most conflicts. And this isn't touching on issues relating to mental health, physical health, economic stability, societal issues, etc. People are multifaceted. None of us excel at all things, find power in all things, or suffer all things. We each have our own pains and triumphs. We each have the ability to hurt each other if we want to. If we wanted to avoid any power imbalance in favor of 1:1 equality, the only answer we'd have would be to literally romance ourselves . And that's 1) narcissism 2) lonely 3) sad. Just ask Raphael.

But unhealthy power imbalances must exist, right? And there is a horrible power imbalance between Gale and Mystra. I would just argue it has more to do with them personally than because of Mystra being a goddess. I'd argue that we should be looking at Gale and Mystra not as mortal and god or man and woman, but as people above all else with their own experiences/motives driving choices throughout the relationship. Examine the ways they look at and treat each other versus themselves. If Mystra was the mortal and Gale was the god, if Mystra was a man and Gale was a woman, I would not change my stance regarding where abuse was committed. Imo people get too caught up trying to make sweeping generalizations instead of focusing on the individuals and how they specifically interact. This in-mind, what are some examples of unhealthy power imbalance as I define it?

A character is physically and/or mentally incapable of participating with proper awareness of the situation, as a partner with equal respect and sway within the relationship.

A character is dependent upon the prospective partner for survival and cannot refuse them without fear of retribution or withholding necessities to survival.

A character is being systematically isolated and made dependent on their partner for all socialization and self-worth.

And so on. Hopefully you get the gist. What I do want to draw attention to though is that these examples offer room to include a variety of circumstances or dynamics within their umbrella. Ex. An underage character with an adult would easily qualify for the first criteria, but an extremely, non-functioningly drunk character would also count. So lets have a look at Gale and Mystra's situation in particular again.

Gale has, by his own admission, been involved with the Weave for as long as he can remember. He sees Mystra as synonymous with the Weave, and with magic. These are things he explicitly states within the game. Gale also has notable reactions to say, saving Arabella from being killed over the idol of Silvanus or Mirkon from harpies. With Arabella especially, the idea of being treated as unforgivable or deserving death for a youthful mistake is something he talks about as if he has some experience with it. And while this is a video game with limited character models, I'm going to estimate that the tiefling kids are probably somewhere between nine and thirteen. We know Gale has been stuck largely alone in his tower with the orb for a year or so. The orb specifically is something that happened when he was an adult, but the way he talks about Arabella with implicit personal identification of facing older authority figures as a young person who didn't know better... I don't think this is the orb alone troubling him. Minsc also has a dialogue option where he talks about how in Rashemen, boys with an affinity for the Weave were hidden away and he suspects it was to keep them from being preyed on by Mystra. Not men, boys. I've seen people try to argue that Mystra would have been indisposed/dead and unable to take advantage of Gale when he was a kid due to the broader Forgotten Realms timeline. I'm inclined to say in this instance, with all evidence in the narrative pointing to a particular arc and theme for Gale and Mystra's relationship, it's more likely that the timeline was something Larian chose to fudge in the interest of storytelling opportunities. The alternative would be that none of those dialogue exchanges meant anything. The narrative is weakened if those moments are made meaningless, and the characters become flatter and less credible without them too. If it comes between trivia and the emotional core of a story, I'd argue the core wins. Gale claims to have slept with other people before Mystra, but that a romanced character is the first person he's slept with after her. I personally suspect it wasn't a lot of prior experience, and he was pretty young when his romance with Mystra began. Additionally, while it's pure conjecture on my part--given how Gale reacts to the tiefling kids it would make sense to me if Mystra started grooming him when he was between nine and thirteen years old. Other people have shared analysis pointing to evidence that Gale unknowingly dual-classed and was a storm sorcerer originally, but was told he was purely a wizard and then had all of his sorcerous abilities eaten by the orb without ever knowing they existed. I do think it makes sense for Mystra to influence Gale as a potentially very powerful sorcerer this way to 1) get him to self-limit through wizard spells so he's easier to predict and control 2) be completely dependent on and devoted to her, starting as early as possible. (For the curious, sorcerer Gale theory is here and here. Very well-done imo!) In any case, Mystra absolutely has personal motive to do what she did, that has nothing to do with Gale personally. That it turned into grooming for a sexual relationship isn't a huge leap in light of her apparent mindset either. But lets take a moment to review that.

This is a really good recap setting up Mystra's situation. Karsus too, by the by. This second video here helps explain Mystra's own situation. My understanding is like this:

Mystryl was the original goddess of magic. Mystryl was a born-goddess rather than an ascended mortal goddess, which is important to note because both exist in the Forgotten Realms. Mystryl was neutral alignment. The Weave, magic, and those casting magic all tied into her divine portfolio. Divine portfolios reflect deities' jurisdictions and callings, which empowers them through use in the world as well as mortal worship. With all this in-mind, naturally it benefited Mystryl to encourage experimentation, devotion, and arcane ambition. The more spellcasters pushed the limits of magic, the more powerful Mystryl became too. This was when the Empire of Netheril came about, with its floating cities and its magocracies. Worth noting, eleventh level spells were being used at this point in time. Cue a bunch of aberrations showing up, called phaerimm. Cosmic horror monstrosities that sort of looked like if you combined grubs and lampreys then made them way too big. On the one hand they were ridiculously powerful natural spellcasters themselves. On the other, they could straight up detect, deflect, and eat magic at will. Incidentally they were also extremely hostile to other life forms. So them existing at the same time as Netheril caused some massive problems. The wizard empire was at war, struggling, and panicking. Karsus was a prodigy and the one most people were turning to for protection at the time. Karsus decided the best way to solve the problem was to become a god himself using the first and only twelfth level spell (of his own design) then get rid of the phaerimm that way. The spell specifically required the caster to replace a god of their choice. Karsus, being a wizard, thought Mystryl was the strongest divine force of all time and chose her. The first video explained very well, but it basically sounds like as a born-goddess--maintaining the Weave was essentially an autonomic process for Mystryl. Basically required as much thought as beating your own heart. It wasn't like that for Karsus. Karsus might have been the best wizard in the sense that someone might be the best marathon runner of all time, but if you take that marathon runner and then tell them they have to pump their heart manually from now on they're not just going to lose any future races they attempt--they might just die on the spot. Which is kind of what happened to Karsus. Karsus became a god of ambition along with magic, then lost his divinity to become a Great Old One instead. These days he's a stone stained in the gore of his dead people who speaks in fountains of blood. (One of the reasons I'm not enabling Gale in his quest to become god of magic, by-the-by.) Mystryl died because of Karsus's spell. Mystryl probably hadn't considered mortals, let alone the wizards who gave her so much power as a goddess, a threat to her personally before. An incarnation of Mystra (not Gale's Mystra) was born from the ashes of Mystryl to become the new goddess of magic. One of the first things Mystra does after basically reincarnating from Mystryl is ban mortals from using magic at level ten or higher. Mystra is now aware that mortals can challenge the gods and straight up kill her personally. She still needs casters using magic at high level to empower herself as a goddess, but it's a double-edged sword that can absolutely kill her. And to make matters worse... this Mystra also gets killed later. The Mystra we have now was a mortal woman (Midnight) who kept Mystra's name to avoid confusing worshippers, who'd been chosen by Mystra previously and ascended into that role. Midnight-Mystra, from the sound of it, also got killed for a bit and had to get saved by Elminster.

Like I said before, I do think there were some timeline blips going on for Mystra with Baldur's Gate 3. As long as she's died and reincarnated twice, her psychological state is cemented. How long it took her to come back and whether there were even more deaths than that is less important. I'd argue the key ideas we're supposed to take away about Mystra from this are that she is a goddess who 1) at this point is an ascended mortal who may have certain inherited memories or experiences from born-deities 2) is hyper aware that mortals can kill her 3) has been killed and reborn multiple times, not just by mortals but the very wizards she draws power from.

This is absolutely a shitty situation. It makes sense Mystra has complexes around it. It makes sense Midnight-Mystra would feel especially afraid when it comes to wizards seeing as she herself is a former mortal, so her position likely feels even more tenuous. The way she interacts with wizards and relates to her own position as a goddess is not as someone secure in her own power, but someone who sees anyone coming close to her level as a direct threat to her life. She needs casters to be strong to fuel her portfolio, but if they're too strong they can challenge her. So she is using whatever tools at her disposal to keep them beneath her while maintaining her own strength. It's also worth remembering that Mystra has no pretense of being good-alignment. Her motive in confronting the Netherbrain wasn't to protect Toril from mindflayers, but to protect herself personally from the Crown of Karsus and protect the Weave from the Karsic Weave. If magic as a force is in danger (as per the Karsic Weave) she might try to do something, but what befalls mortals is irrelevant to her. I'd argue she's 1000% acting out of self-interest for Baldur's Gate 3. And again--it makes sense given her position. It makes sense given the track record for gods in the Forgotten Realms.

So, if we go with the in-game implications that Mystra is supposed to have been active across Gale's life and was active when Minsc was running around a century ago (referenced in his comments about Rashemen protecting boys from Mystra)... what kind of relationship has Mystra built with wizards in particular? This is heavy speculation here but I'm going off of Gale's experience, Elminster's behavior, a point of notable cattiness from Lorroakan, and Mystra's motives.

I think Mystra encourages wizards to compete for her favor, both through their arcane power and on a personal level. She encompasses their entire world and dictates everything they are capable of by holding the Weave in her portfolio. Casters are nothing without her. She is fickle in her attentions, moving between wizard paramours and chosen so they constantly feel the need to prove themselves worthy of her love. As their goddess, they have no room to question her or ask for loyalty born of personal affection. Mystra does not care. She is inherently more than they are and ever will be, and unless they have something to woo her through her portfolio specifically there is no reason for her to stick around. They're lucky she gives them the time of day. Even if she can't literally, physically, personally prevent a wizard from interacting with the Weave--she can seriously screw with them while they do. Mystra's first post-Mystryl act was to blanket-limit the spells wizards could perform, remember? And BG3 Mystra was able to pluck the orb from Gale's chest at any time, whenever she felt like it. She just didn't. Lifetimes of work, dedication, study, and innovation are not ultimately credited to the casters who built themselves through their art but to Mystra. Memorized spells, arcane gestures, the interaction of components. She can make all of that so much harder. And she takes credit for any advancement a wizard makes. Origin Gale has lines with Minthara where he struggles to see himself as capable of anything without Mystra's say-so and needs to be reminded that she can't claim everything he has ever done through magic, and she hasn't managed to stop him yet. The fact that Gale himself, as Mystra's former lover, doesn't believe this initially and needs someone who very much is not a wizard to remind him says a lot about the dynamic Mystra set up with him and (in all likelihood) other wizards. So how does all of this fit in with the grooming point? Well, magic users are going to be much easier to psychologically control if Mystra starts taking advantage of them when they're still children and don't know any better. She needs to feed off of their strength with no risk to herself, so she needs to make sure they are can't even fathom turning on her. Maximize the power difference, ingrain that shit early. And if it becomes a sexual relationship... Mystra can tell herself they're even less likely to consider turning on her because it's just one more way they depend on her for validation.

Mystra's own fear and trauma (like Cazador's) does not prevent her from becoming an abuser. And like Cazador, she's using it to fuel the abuse she commits herself.

Something else I want to highlight before I segue to focus on Gale further, is how wizards deal with each other and why policy differs toward wizards versus other casters.

Wizards are nerds with shared interests. They're fucking around to see what's possible with magic and seem genuinely excited when anyone innovates. Innovation is something they can learn from and incorporate it into their own art. But actual wizard friendships, at least in Baldur's Gate 3, seem to be rare. They undercut each other emotionally and often look for ways to elevate themselves above their peers. Gale's colleagues left him to twist alone in his tower for a year. Elminster prioritizes pleasing Mystra by passing on her message for Gale to kill himself, and defends her if the player condemns Mystra's behavior. He even gets angry for certain dialogue options.

(It bears saying, I think Elminster has been psychologically wrecked by Mystra too. He does seem to be trying in spite of that but guy's not well himself.)

Even if not all wizards look to become romantically entangled with Mystra, Mystra has definitely encouraged competition and mistrust between them. After all, if the wizards supported each other they might realize they're stronger than her and that she's been causing harm. Another potential death.

I suspect the reason Mystra focuses on wizards is because wizards are ordinary people who know they were born ordinary, and know how hard it was to build arcane power. They aren't as secure in themselves as sorcerers who use magic like a reflex. And warlocks manage to work around Mystra with patrons who aren't beholden to her. So best for Mystra to undermine, manipulate, or otherwise occupy sorcerers who are strong enough to pose threats and teach the wizards they'd be nothing without her.

... One of the other arguments I saw recently was that Gale was being disingenuous/lying to himself and the player when he claims he wanted to gift Mystra a part of herself back. That he only wants power for power's sake, is kind of a terrible person, and it would be boring if he was being genuine. I deeply disagree with this stance.

When it comes to motivation, I'd argue power is by nature a means to an end rather than the end itself. "If I'm powerful enough no one will be able to hurt me again," "If I'm powerful enough I can fix every terrible thing I feel the need to," "If I'm powerful enough I can push the boundaries of what is possible and find a sense of wonder at the results."

Power because power does not cut it as a motive. It's likewise with ambition. We're not 2-D mustache twirlers here.

Ambition includes experimenting with a project to see if you can pull off something new or particularly difficult. Finding joy in the process and challenge itself isn't evil. It isn't even unhealthy.

Competing with others isn't necessarily negative either, in the right context. Being an elite athlete at the Olympics for example, you're putting your own skills against those around you in the hopes of surpassing them. It doesn't mean you think poorly of your fellow competitors. If anything, one would hope you respect them deeply for the shared discipline and passion. (But you still want to win, course. ;P)

If you read my post about DnD's pantheon, it's pretty clear I'm not opposed to the idea of A. firing gods from positions they're neglecting or B. nominating others to oversee necessary-but-unused portfolios. There are established gods of the Forgotten Realms who need, urgently, to be sacked. Being born into divinity, set up through nepotism, or 'elected by seniority' is not enough to shield a deity from my judgment. Mystra is abusing her worshippers, and while her portfolio might be able to squeak by I'd argue she's been compromised and is committing unprofessional and detrimental behavior in her capacity as goddess of magic. ESPECIALLY knowing she's like this as an ascended mortal. Any other mortal would be well within moral bounds to replace her. She has no ethical high ground in that regard. Managing autonomic maintenance of the Weave is an issue, but if someone showed up to replace her with the argument that Mystra is unfit due to committing abuse... I don't think that person would be morally wrong. Ballsy as hell, but not wrong.

So what's going on with Gale?

Gale canonically, in dialogue, thinks he and the world might both be better off if he was dead. I'll go a step further and argue that before the game even starts Gale considers his personal self a net-negative. If he isn't offsetting that with magical skill, knowledge, achievements, material possessions, and overall usefulness--he doesn't think he has a reason to be alive. The universe is worse for his existing in it.

Gale brags because he's trying to show he has something of value to give other people when he sees nothing of value in himself. He's trying to prove he can be an asset so others will keep him around. He brags notably less as he gains a sense of self-worth, self-confidence, and general support as acts progress. The times he gets snippy with other casters are because if he isn't the only and most useful magic guy to get something done, Gale thinks he might as well be thrown away. He is replaceable. He's also terrified to admit anything about the orb in Act I because there is no way to see it as anything but a danger and a burden. When that's added to his depression, he's sure he'll get abandoned in the wilderness to explode by himself and it might even serve him right. No one will mourn him. They might even be glad to be rid of the burden he brought.

Gale wants others to like him, to see him as a good person, to see him as someone brave and smart and worthy of trust. He absolutely does not see himself that way. If he's trying to prove it to the party--he's trying to prove it to himself just as much. There's a line he can give with The Dark Urge where he comments that if people are being killed just for being annoying, he should be dead a thousand times over. If you get solid approval with him at the tiefling party, he'll admit he didn't have any friends before the game. And while I can only speak to a particular romantic route, in Act III he talks about having been told to his face at various points/in various ways that he's insufferable. He knows other people don't like him and don't believe in him. If bad things happen to him they probably think he deserves it. He might even think so too.

Gale doesn't see anything worthwhile in himself that isn't built through wizardry. It has to be because he was smart enough, worked hard enough, and showed enough character to earn his power. If it's sorcery (and this is only a standard he applies to himself) then all that effort he put in would become meaningless. He can't look at his personal self as having done anything deserving of value or respect if he's a sorcerer because magic was easier for him than other people. And if he can't provide any magic, knowledge, or resources at all then no one has reason to give him the time of day. People hate him. Mystra only paid attention for his abilities as a spellcaster. The mortal, personal aspects of him were things she put up with.

So forget power and ambition for just a moment. What does Gale as a person in that position, who feels that way about himself, actually want? I'd argue that he probably just wanted to know the person he loved most actually gave a shit about him as a person. That he wasn't disposable or only worth as much as his skills and material possessions. I'm pretty sure he'd have wanted that regardless of whether Mystra was a goddess. Mystra both being the kind of goddess she was and the kind of person she was kept telling him he should be satisfied, that he shouldn't want any more than she was giving him. He can't climb any higher than her. No one can give him more than her. She is divine, she is the world itself. Gale never felt loved in that relationship. Due to Mystra's abuse he got to a place where the idea of wanting to be loved back became sacrilegious. It meant there was something wrong with him, that he was arrogant and insatiable. How else could he feel utterly alone and unlovable with a goddess?

Gale desperately wanted to mean something to Mystra personally, so he tried to offer a gesture of love in her language. Something he thought would be valuable to her as an individual and something requiring a ton of arcane skill/strength to deliver. He wanted her to look at him like he was irreplaceable as a person. I genuinely don't think that's a power-hungry or ambitious thing to want.

Gale didn't understand the orb, and unfortunately for him he didn't understand Mystra either. She wasn't the wise and understanding goddess he thought she was. She never wanted an equal. She does not have it in her to love someone as such. The idea of equality, for Mystra, is something that must be crushed to preserve herself.

I figure that the Gale who ascends to godhood has accumulated a divine amount of stuff and power to compensate for his belief that lacking those things, he would be worthless. If Gale wasn't a wizard it might have been music, or writing, or fighting, or politics--any skill, influence, or resource could be used the same way. It’s not that ambition is inherently bad. It’s that for Gale, it’s unhealthy. The ambition isn’t for its own sake. He’s using it as a counterweight against his own sense of worthlessness. God Gale buries his problems instead of dealing with them. He will never know if a character who romances him only did so because they saw his potential and wanted to come along for the ride. He will never know if they'd have bothered to stick around if he was only Gale Dekarios, if he didn't have so much to offer them. He tells himself it's enough that they believed he could do it.

With the mortal Gale ending, we should note that Gale doesn’t need power to enjoy the study of magic if he’s healthy. His priority isn’t about pushing the limits of spells, making new ones, or making a name for himself. Given room to decide for himself, he just wants to uplift and share with others through teaching. His trends in approval and disapproval support this preference too.

For Gale, I really think ambition and power are crutches he uses to justify being alive because he doesn't see any other reason. Give him a reason and he genuinely doesn't need them. They're the means, not the end. He does not want power for the sake of power. Guy is sad and doesn't know how to live with himself. He's not a worse or less believable character with that being his motive. Stories are about people, and people don't move through the world with static 'flaws' and 'virtues' checklists that need to be balanced. There's nothing inherently deeper or more meaningful about villainous characters compared to heroic ones. People make choices and deal with situations according to their experiences moment to moment, trying to make sense of things as best they can throughout their lives. Gale fits perfectly within this. The other cast members do too.

And for the record, while I'd argue Karsus was far more ambitious in character than Gale--even for him, it wasn't just about power. The guy was trying to save his people. He fucked up in a horrible and traumatic way so he's a Netherese blood fountain now. (RIP Karsus but also someone please pact with him.)

And as one last, controversial section... what did Gale's experience with Mystra do to him when it comes to his relationship with sex?

From how Gale talks about and shows Weave-sex, I'd argue it's an extension of him feeling inadequate as a mortal. And knowing this is a controversial point + a lot of people have done and loved the Weave scene because it reflects Gale's love of magic, I offer this: Gale would not be less worthy of love if he didn't have magic. Gale does not know this about himself. He went from an archwizard with a tower and Mystra's chosen to a level one adventurer sleeping on the ground. His entire relationship with magic for much of the game is incredibly unhealthy because he sees the person left in its absence as worthless. For Gale to have a healthy arc, I'd argue he needs to learn how to look at himself as nothing but a man and know he's still precious and irreplaceable. He needs to learn that he doesn't need to prove he deserves to be alive. He isn't disappointing. He doesn't have to try to impress others all the time to have a place in their worlds. He doesn't need to bribe people with shiny things or unique abilities so they'll tolerate the rest. He can exist as no one and nothing but himself and be treasured just for that.

I think at some point Gale could potentially have sex in the Weave again as a repairing experience where he's confident that his physical body, his reactions, and his wants weren't anything to feel ashamed of. Reclaiming that from his experience with Mystra could be very powerful and sexy. But for the first time he has sex since Mystra, when he thinks he's going to need to kill himself any day now and has been struggling between terror and self-hatred, I personally think it's healthier for him to get the validation of being enough as just Gale. Not the Wizard of Waterdeep. His life isn't being advocated for because he's strong or unique in bed. Someone wants him alive as just a person.

And not for nothing... I'm saying this as a writer who can't not write. I've had to do my own share of reflection about how I look at myself if writing isn't the metric of my worth. I wouldn't think Gale needs to abandon all magic any more than I would need to abandon all writing. But it's really important to know we aren't empty trash without our callings, you know?

Before I end this post, I do want to invite readers to think back to those bullets I made before on unhealthy power imbalance.

A character is physically and/or mentally incapable of participating with proper awareness of the situation, as a partner with equal respect and sway within the relationship.

A character is dependent upon the prospective partner for survival and cannot refuse them without fear of retribution or withholding necessities to survival.

A character is being systematically isolated and made dependent on their partner for all socialization and self-worth.

If Mystra deliberately started grooming Gale from a young age, emphasized and exaggerated the power discrepancy rather than making any effort to close the gap, that's a pretty big deal. Gale definitely never had equal respect or sway in the relationship compared to her. She'd probably find the idea insulting in the face of her godhood. She didn't want a partner but a supplicant who obeyed her with no needs for himself. Mystra actively distorted Gale's sense of boundaries and magnified what she could take from him if he displeased her. His life's work, his ability to access parts of his own mind for spells, his means of functioning in the world, his ability to defend himself... but also? His health and survival, once the orb was brought into play. And socially, Gale was incredibly isolated. It sounds like he hasn't even seen his own mother in at least a year, which I have some thoughts on. He was friendless for a long time even as Mystra's chosen. And Mystra made sure other wizards knew when she abandoned him to the point that even Lorroakan was aware. Mystra's offense was something for others to look down on him for. And Gale struggles in-game with the idea that Mystra mistreated or neglected him--because how could a goddess, his goddess, do that? He's been gaslit so hard that he doesn't quite get a moment of fully realizing it wasn't his fault. In some dialogue options Mystra even tries to frame his trauma over her abuse, unaware even that he had the Karsic Weave inside him, as wallowing in self-pity.

Gale did make a mistake, but I'd argue it matters a lot that the mistake was innocent and that he's woefully misjudged Mystra's character. He's being told it couldn't have been innocent and he deserves to be punished for it. He largely believes that. Doesn't make it true.