#the spoilers are like two months old by this point but let's be safe

[flaetsbnortoriginals]

Y'know, I have a real soft spot for corporate art.

By that I don't mean stuff like the neat souless twee black guys in Casual Friday outfit, I mean stuff like the story for AAA games. Stuff that isn't at the forefront and that, as far as the corporation cares, exists mostly as a kind of ancillary marketing arm. They have enough money to hire truly talented people to work on it but they also force them to step inside ridiculously rigid limits

I'm talking about Magic: The Gathering. I'm talking, very specifically, about Ixalan.

Ixalan is such a simple concept. It's a world based on the Americas! But it's being invaded! The invaders are basically the Spanish! And they are LITERAL VAMPIRES

That's so dumb! It's hilarious! It's the most obvious metaphor for imperalism you could possibly come up with. It's Baby's First Politically Aware Work. It's a single step above a cartoon of a skeleton labeled CAPITALISM carrying a bag full of money over starving people. And I love it! Give me that slop yum yum yum. If it was a work of art created by people who wanted to, y'know, create art, I'd be much harsher on it. I'd praise the intention but suggest something more nuanced (or, if they were going for it deliberately, more raw). But I know that even this much must have been a hard sell for the suits! I remember Mark Rosewater talking about how much Ixalan was a hard sell and imagine the execs going 'nooooo, what if our core demographic likes imperialism?'

And of course, because you get talented people to do the story and you cater to detail-oriented nerds, you also get an incredibly detailed backstory to this silly, Lorax movie level metaphor. The faux America is actually in the middle of a protacted war, no noble savages here. The vampires get a side of catholicism with their vampirism that makes Vampire: The Masquerade roll on the floor. It's all weirdly elaborate under the simplest possible concept, like deep-fried caviar.

The story for Outlaws of Thunder Junction went pretty much the same way for me. It's the culmination of Kellan's year-long quest to find his dad, who turns out to be a deadbeat that doesn't care about him at all, and only care about finding the treasure hidden inside a vault... who turns out to be a LITERAL CHILD who is wanted by two people in TRUE LOVE. That is DUMB AS HELL, it's the simplest parallel possible, and again, if someone was writing it out of a desire to simply Make Art, I'd praise the intent but have notes for the execution. But as an ancillary marketing action to sell us cardboard rectangles? That's the most delicious crap I can think of.

[huntershoe]

Back To You (Part Two)

Hunter x Jedi!Reader

Spoilers for tbb season 3 if you haven't watched it yet :}

Summary: You enjoyed your evening with your unusual family after months of being apart. Leading you and Hunter to enjoy your night after months. :)

T/W: mention of scars and describsion of them, hurt/comfort, fluff, Smut, sweet sweet love making, unprotected sex, oral (f/m receiving), fingering, breeding kink, PiV, minors DNI!

A/N: Don't let the beginning fool you, this starts with lots of fluff and ends in pure smut. :)

Word count: 3.8k

Part one

After the sun had already settled and thousands of stars took its place you and the batch stayed in your seats, talking about everything and remembering the old times. Omega eventually invited Lyana over to play and after some time even Deke, Stak and Mox joined, shyly introducing themselves.

They turned out to be the sweetest boys, offering to help tidy the table and help Omega and Lyana as they tried to teach Batcher some new tricks.

It's been a long time since you and the batch felt so at peace. A long time since you got to just sit back down, relax and watch the kids play, knowing that your family is safe and well.

Hours had gone by as you watched the kids come up with new tricks. Cheering every time Batcher successfully did a new trick. At this point everything felt perfect, everyone was in a happy mood, spotting wide grins and barking laughs left and right. At one point, Hunter managed to grab your stool, pulling your closer to him and sneaking his arm around your shoulders.

Kissing your temple, Hunter whispered sweet promises through the whole evening, bathing in your natural perfume.

Only after most of the city around them went quiet did Hunter tell the kids to quiet down and start preparing for bed. Omega managed to convince Hunter to let Lyana sleep over and since the other three young clone cadets were already staying in the same house as the batch, they transformed Omegas room into one giant cove.

At the end all that could be heard were quiet giggles, coming through the window from her room as the adults enjoyed some peace and quiet.

Of course it didn't stayed like that for long since Hunter's hands became increasingly more wandering, exploring your body with light touches, remembering the small curves and lines. Crosshair with his keen sight noticed his brothers wandering hands and couldn't help himself but to tease a little, making Wrecker and Echo join on in, resulting in Hunter groaning and standing up, gently grabbing your hand and pulling you after him.

More amused than annoyed by the teasing you just giggled and waved the boys goodbye as Hunter led you further away and toward the beach.

"Where exactly are you taking me verd?" You ask curiously and adding his nickname. That small nickname made him stop in his tracks for a moment, looking back at you with a  smirk as he turned fully back towards you and pulled you into him, making you gasp at his sudden movement.

"Somewhere without prying eyes, where I don't have to listen to my vode teasing." His voice sounded even lower then usual, more smoky and laced with desire as his hands snaked around your waist and lower. A wide smirk was plastered on his lips as his eyes jumped up and down from your eyes to your mouth. His answer made your head fall back in laughter and your hands sneaked up his chest. When you finally looked back at him your breath caught in your throat when his eyes locked with yours. The moon shone down on him, making his eyes sparkle in a beautiful gray tone as the smile lines around his eyes deepened. You couldn't resist but to grin as you stared back at him. "What?" You asked amused as he kept on staring and not saying anything.

"You are so beautiful." He whispered dreamily, lifting one of his hands up, cupping your cheek and you gladly leaned in and closed your eyes. But as his fingers brushed across your new scars, your brows dipped down and you felt tears threatening to spill. "I was...beautiful." Shame overwhelmed you, making you avert your eyes away from his. "Now I'm full of scars, looking more like a rancor than a human." You addressed the truth, or at least what you thought was the real truth.

"Don't." Hunter interrupted you again, shaking his head as he moved his other hand up to your cheek, forcing you to look at him. "Don't ever say that." He ordered, looking at you seriously. "You are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes on, the most amazing, beautiful, talented and caring woman in the galaxy. You have gone through so much and you deserve only the best things in your life." Hunter told you, determined to make you see the actual truth. "The scars on your body only show just how strong you are...I only wish you could see yourself as I do." He kissed away the tears rolling down your cheeks as you gripped onto him.

Your body went completely soft and you leaned on Hunter, melting into his embrace as his hands moved to envelope your frame and you buried your face in the crook of his neck. One of your biggest worries was that now that you look like that Hunter wouldn't want you anymore. You knew that just thinking like that was stupid because if you really love someone then their appearance shouldn't matter. But fear sneaked into your mind, making you unsure and scared of loosing the man you love.

"I'm sorry..." You quietly whispered, still hiding your face in his neck and you felt Hunter's hands pull you even closer to him.

"You have nothing to be sorry for cyare." Hunter brought his hand up to your head, gently stroking your hair as he kissed your temple.

You took one last breath, collecting the courage to look at him again. As you did so, you were met with nothing but love in his eyes, that soft sparkle dancing in his eyes as he looked at you. Hunter gave you a small smile and brushed off the remaining tears away from your eyes.

"You're stuck with me for the rest of your life mesh'la."

He said teasingly but the tone of his voice showed just how serious he was being.

You let out a small chuckle and he moved his hand back to your neck, pushing your head forward and leaning it against his own into a keldabe kiss.

Both you and Hunter took a moment to enjoy each other's presence, just breathing in and out, sharing the air between you.

Soon, Hunter couldn't wait any longer, too enthralled with you, he leaned further in, pressing his lips against yours.

The moment his lips met yours, your body instantly relaxed, almost like all previous worries washed away with just one kiss. You pushed your hands up and into his hair, tangling your fingers into his curly locks.

Starving for your touch, Hunter groaned in your mouth, deepening the kiss. His tongue was invading, determined to conquer your mouth as your own danced around his.

Your lips moved around each other, like two pieces of puzzle, made to compliment the other. You kissed until your own lungs began burning with need of oxygen and you pulled away, gasping for air as your eyes found his gold ones instantly.

A small smile appeared on your lips. "What would I do without you?" Hunter's own lips mirrored yours after your question.

His smile grew into a wide grin and he moved, leaving one hand around your shoulders and leaving the other one at his side as he pulled you with him again, leading you both down towards the beach. "C'mon I wanna show you something." Hunter murmured into your ear as you two moved closer to the lagoon.

It was few days away from the moon being full but it was hard to notice the difference as the moon shined so bright, illuminating the path and everything else around. The slow rhythmic waves created a calming ambience as you made it to the sand. Hunter stopped you and moved in front of you, kneeling. Your brows shot up in confusion when he grabbed your foot and slowly took off your shoe, followed by your sock.

"What are you do--oh." Realization crossed your face when he took off your other shoe, pulling the sock with it. The sand was still radiating some heat from the sun, making it perfect to walk across.

Grinning, Hunter stood up and took off his own shoes, storing them beside yours. He took your hand again, pressing a kiss to you cheek before pulling you towards the sea.

The sand felt amazing, making you feel free as you held onto your lover's hand. Your feet hit the sea and a soft smile appeared on your face.

Hunter once again let go of your hand and gently grabbed you by the hips. "I want you to know, you...mean everything to me." He grasped, looking you directly into your eyes before gently kissing you again.

You responded immediately, returning the kiss and grabbing onto his shoulders, smiling into the kiss.

You felt his hands move lower, reaching your ass and squeezing it hungrily, making you gasp into the kiss as he chuckled.  "Hunter...you are the reason I fought to stay alive." You shared, cupping his cheek.

You stayed in his arms for a moment longer before a wicked grin sneaked onto your lips and you jumped away from him, crouching down and cupping the water before swinging your arms and splashing your man.

Hunter gasp loudly, looking at your surprised before a dangerous glint showed in his eyes and he smirked, repeating your actions and splashing you back.

The water hit you, instantly wetting you all over and you squealed before running away. Hunter barked a laugh before chasing after you.

You ran, occasionally splashing behind you, hearing Hunter gasp again and then you would feel him splashing you back. The chase continued for a couple of minutes and by the end, you were both soaking wet. Hunter was steadily nearing you and in one swift moment he grabbed you, swaying you off your feet and you squealed, grabbing onto his forearms around your waist.

His chest rumbled as he laughed, squeezing you close to him before slowly putting you down and turning you around in his arms.

"Fancy a midnight swim?" He suggested, raising his brows.

"Everything to get me naked I see." You teased, sneaking your hands around his slim waist.

"Everything." He confirmed before moving his hands to the hem of your shirt, silently asking for a permission.

You slowly nodded, letting him take your shirt off carefully, leaving you in your bra. He made and effort to throw your shirt at the nearest rock. Hunter slowly lowered his hands, letting them travel down your sides and to your pants, slowly pulling them off, along with your panties. You helped him take them off by lifting your legs, one by one. Grabbing onto his shoulder for some balance.

He did the same by throwing them on the close by rock.

Hunter stayed crouching in front of you, moving closer and kissing your knee. Your cheeks flushed when he continued up towards the inside of your thigh and repeating the same thing on your other leg. He peppered open-mouthed kisses all across the inside of your thighs, coming closer to your cunt. Hunter brought your knee over his shoulder, opening you for him.

You watched, your pupils dilating with lust the closer he got to where you needed him the most.

Finally his lips found your folds, licking stipe after stripe with his tongue across and letting out the most guttering groan at the taste of you. Hunter looked possessed, almost like that the taste of you awoken something in him, he began lapping on your juices. Your eyes fluttered closed and you let your head fall back as a loud moan escaped your lips.

Your hand moved up to his hair and you tugged on his locks, making him groan just as he started sucking on your clit. The vibrations made your whole body shake and your eyes roll back.

His lips move lower and his tongue begins to prodd on your entrance, slowly pushing in as his nose brushes against your sensitive clit. He slowly begins pumping his tongue as deep as he can, taking in your juices and inhaling your sweet scent. You let out a long sigh and began rolling your hips against his face, slowly approaching your high.

Your movement made him groan deeply and you looked back down at him. You met his blown out eyes, dark with desire, hunger almost radiating off of him as he keeps on pumping his tongue into you. Hunters hungry moves made you clench around him, whimpering when he grabbed your ass, squeezing it as he pulled you closer to him. You heard him growl as he moved back up to suck on your clit again and gently biting it, making your body break in half.

Gasping, you felt yourself coming closer to the edge when  Hunter sneaked one of his hands in front and up to your entrance, slowly pushing in two of his fingers. He began pumping his fingers, slowly, sensually and hitting that perfect spot every time and before you could even realize, you fell over the edge, your body shaking with pleasure as small gasps and moans escaped your lips along with his name.

But Hunter didn't stop, dragging out your high for as long as possible before you couldn't take it anymore. "Hunter please, I-I can't anymore." You gasped out and he finally stopped, pulling his fingers out and lapping at your juices that began spilling out of you. You felt like you were just about to tip over him, but he stood up just in the right moment, carefully holding you with one hand while the other one which was just inside you came up to your mouth.

"Open." Hunter ordered, pressing his fingers to your lips.

You did so, willing to do everything he wanted.

"See how good you taste mesh'la." He murmured as his fingers entered you mouth and you tasted yourself, that sweet and sour taste that made you moan around his finger as he slowly pulled them out, strings of saliva still connected to your lips.

"Good girl." He praised before pressing his lips to yours and making you taste yourself again.

You couldn't wait any longer and so you began undressing him, your hands working swiftly as you pulled his vest off, throwing it over to the same rock. Exposing the curve of his ribs and his chest and making your hands wander in a feather like touch across his pecs and stomach muscles. Hunters breath hitched and he looked down at you with hunger as your hands moved lower and lower down to his belt.

You fumbled with his belt, trying to untie it as fast as you could, leaning on the tip of your toes and kissing him again. Hunter grabbed your cheeks, smashing his face against yours, your knees buckled as his belt finally came undone under your fingertips. You tugged his pants off, exposing his lower belly. You pulled back from the kiss, panting as you looked down, watching how your fingers stroked his happy trail and how the muscles flexed under your fingertips. Hunter let out a desperate whine, looking at you, pleading to hurry up.

You grinned at him, slowly kneeling and kissing down his chest as you pull his pants lower. As soon as his pants touched the ground, Hunter lifted his legs one after another, stepping out of them. Grabbing them, you start kissing up his thighs, repeating his gesture, feeling his whole body shiver and his knees buckle as your lips came closer to his weeping hard cock. You chuckle, watching him try to restrain himself and his hands clench into fists at his side.

Finally taking pity on him, you kissed the tip of his cock. The sound he let out was downright sinful, accompanied with his eyes rolling back and his lips wide open. Wanting to see and hear more of that from him you flattened your tongue against his hard-on, licking up from the base to the tip. You felt him twitch against your lips and you finally took him in your mouth, tasting the salty precum.

Hunter let out another long groan and his hands shot to your head, knotting into your hair, not pushing, just leading. Sliding him deeper in, you kept your eyes on his as you relaxed your throat and hollowed your cheeks, you went in as deep as you could, before the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat and tears pooled at the corners of your eyes. Hunter slowly pulled you off of him, watching how your lips popped around his dick, he stared completely enchanted as you gasped, a string of your saliva mixed with his precum connecting your lips and his tip.

You gasped, looking up at him through you lashes as you once again licked him from the base to his tip before pulling him back into your mouth. Hunter let out a string of curses when you started bobbing your head, gently clenching your teeth around him, feeling every ridge and vein. Taking him as deep as you can again, before you backed off, panting and stroking his begging cock.

You stroked his curved hard-on using both of your hands, rotating your wrists before you moved one hand down to his balls, playing with them.

Seeing his lower abdominal muscles flex, you knew he was close so you hurried up your pace, jerking him off and making him produce the most beautiful sounds a man can make. Hunter couldn't help himself but to thrust his hips needily, nearing his high. You saw his knees buckle and took him in your mouth again, this time however, Hunter couldn't help himself and he fisted your hair, pulling on it and began desperately thrusting his hips as he let out a long groan. You had to grab onto his thighs for some balance as he pushed as deep as he could, making your eyes water and you choke as his cock twitched in your mouth once, twice before you felt a hot stream of his cum run down your throat.

His legs were shaking as he slowly pulled you off of him and you had to swallow before you could take a long breath, looking up at his fucked out face.

You slowly stood up, your legs wobbly from kneeling so he helped you, taking his pants from you as you passed them to him and he threw them on top of the rest of your clothes.

Both you and Hunter were still panting heavily when Hunter pulled you in for a hungry kiss. Your tongues danced with each other and your hands absentmindedly moved back towards your bra, unclipping it and taking it off, throwing it away.

Letting out groaning sigh, Hunter moved his hands down to you ass cheeks, grabbing the greedily. He gently spanked your ass, signaling you to jump and you did, locking your ankles around his waist and your hands around his neck. "What a sight you are." Hunter mumbled against your lips as he began walking into the sea.

"I can say the same for you ner meshurok." You nodded, your lips brushing against his.

The further Hunter walked into the sea, higher the water came, pooling around you and making you press yourself closer to him as the water felt refreshing. Kneading your ass cheeks, Hunter slowly lowered both of you in the sea while kissing every scar down your neck. Letting out a sigh, you moved your head back, giving him more access as he continued loving attack lower down, giving attention to every scar he found and making his way towards your breasts. Finally pulling your sensitive bud into his mouth, he sucked and played with it, rolling his tongue around.

You sneaked your hand into his hair, playing with his locks as he moved his attention to your other nipple while his hands kept on kneading your ass and making you roll your hips against his. That made your clit stroke against his cock, making you both groan.

"Hunter please." You whimpered, begging for his cock and he let go of your nipple making a popping sound as he moved back up to your throat, pressing his lips directly under your jaw. He sneaked one of his hands between the two of you and grabbed his cock, lining it up with your entrance.

You let out a high sigh as Hunter began slowly impaling you on his cock, stretching you out in the most delicious way. Groaning your name against your neck he slowly pushed you lower until he bottomed out.

"Mesh'la." Hunter groaned again, squeezing his eyes shut as you moved your head and kissed him.

He hungrily returned the kiss, pulling you closer as he slowly began rolling his hips up into you, letting you feel every vein. Loving the way his thrusts made you feel, you began rolling your hips with him, gasping when the new movement made him hit that sacred spot with every thrust.

Your eyes rolled back and the air left your lungs as Hunter increased the tempo of his thrusts, making you hop up and down as he growled, grabbing onto you more desperately. He began pounding up into you, mercilessly as his own breathing changed into labored panting.

Before you know it your cunt began squeezing down on him and you saw stars as your eyes rolled back again. All you could hear was Hunters desperate whines and his thrusts became sloppier as he neared his high. A moment later Hunter moved his head, biting down on your shoulder as he came, stilling inside you as he filled you up with his cum.

It took you a good minute of panting before Hunter raised his head to look at you. You leaned your head forward, looking at him, only to be met with his eyes full of love and adoration. You gave him the softest smile and moved your hand to his cheek, cupping it as you returned the loving gaze.

"Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum ner Hunter." You whispered, expressing your every feeling into the words and tracing your finger across his lips.

"Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum ner mesh'la." Responded, pressing his lips against yours into a loving kiss.

You felt him twirl you both around, spinning in circles as he slowly lifted you up and pulled his cock out, making you whimper at the empty feeling.

"I'm never letting you go again." Hunter sighed and leaned his forehead on yours into another Keldabe kiss.

"And if something ever happens..." You began, gently stroking his hair.

"I promise you, I will always come back to you."

Translations:

Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum ~ {Mandalorian way of saying "I love you"]

Verd ~ Soldier

Cyare ~ Beloved one, loved one, darling

Mesh'la ~ Beautiful

Ner Meshurok ~ my jewel

A/N: Let me know what you think and if I missed anything <3

[puella-1n-somn10]

🕊️Puella Magi Madoka Magica x Team Fortress 2: Medic and his Witch Form🕊️

word count w/o intro text: 10,651

(Over...two...months...of writing; thank FUCK I've managed to get this all down right on time for Halloween!)

This has been a long time consideration, and, according to one of my last few polls, ya'll really wanted to see how I would interpret Medic's witch form! Well, after a long-time wait, here's the rundown of how Medic's witch would look like in my mind!

Before we start, I highly recommend that you look at the list of trigger warnings present in the tags; the Team Fortress 2 universe, both in-game and outside of it, is no stranger to gruesome elements, so I strongly urge you to take a long look at them before proceeding. If any of the mentioned makes you uncomfortable in whatever form, look away now for the sake of your own health.

As expected, spoilers for Madoka Magica, Kazumi Magica, Tart Magica, Magia Record (especially the anime), and the Team Fortress 2 comics ahead! We are going to talk about one of the many stingers of the Puella Magi universe, after all! On top of that, there will be mentions of Heavy x Medic x Engineer, so if the ship doesn't sit right with you, I must sincerely apologize in advance; it is recommended to click away from this post if said ship is not your cup of tea at all.

With all that being said, let us begin with this mess of an analysis/ficlet post!

-The Wish, Possible Powers, and Soul Gem-

"Oh ho hoh! I have been in zhe wrong profession. I must learn zhis magic!"

Let's be blunt here for a second- he's already laid waste to whatever concept of "morals" present within the human consciousness that would prevent him from furthering his medical and experimental endeavors, and he's done so much without the use of an incubator's powers; from granting his teammates invincibility to bringing them back from the clutches of death. Ludwig's immoral, sickened mind, coupled with his medical skills and treatment of the human body as an art canvas, has allowed him to play God.

On the other hand, though he did align himself with the opposing Classic team for some time within the comics, he explained to the newly-resurrected Sniper that it was purely for financial reasons, and that he never harbored any ill-will towards his teammates. In fact, it would be safe for us to assume that he, in his mind, genuinely cares for his team, and made it one of his missions to turn them into unstoppable killing machines- into gods. He cherishes his fellow mercenaries...albeit in his own twisted, inhumane, and silly way.

Building upon the above, it is also clear that Ludwig is a responsible pet owner and genuinely cares for his doves, especially Archimedes. Yes, he does resort to using animal organs - especially the exotic kind - when fit in order to further his experiments and enhance his teammates' performances, but the contrast between that and his care for the birds is kind of a testament to how he treat other humans - especially the classic team - vs. how he treats the mercs and others close to him. For goodness' sake, he's put Classic Heavy's demands on a back burner and allowed Sniper to escape while he was too busy reviving Archimedes! Ludwig does have a heart and the capacity to care, but not much in terms of morals, if at all.

Wow, he would definitely get along with Alina Gray, huh?

So, right off the bat, it wouldn't be farfetched for Medic to be curious over Kyubey's wish-granting skills; he did make a deal with the Devil himself on two separate occasions within the official Team Fortress 2 comics (though the initial deal's conditions is still unknown to us), after all. How he came to figuring out the existence of the incubators is anyone's guess at this point due to his unpredictable nature, but, in my opinion, it can range from old folklore surrounding the species or simply finding out that one of the mercs had already contracted (my personal bets are either Heavy or Solly). I recommend going off the walls with this one; for all we know, he could have managed to detect spikes in magical activity around the base/island and forced himself into the world of Magi, Witches, and wishes- all the while a certain little bipedal fiend began to showcase an equal amount of interest in him for reasons we are going to dive into soon.

On to the main topic of his wish, it's quite simple, really; it would be related to his hunger for power/knowledge and furthering his research/scientific endeavors; promptly dissipating whatever is limiting his experimental pursuits (maybe even financial, as presented to us in the comics).

Another possible wish that he could have made might be rooted to the bonds he had formed with the mercenaries and the surprisingly deep respect he had shown to each one them on numerous occasions. Such fascination towards his teammates is even presented to us within the beta version of Meet the Medic, where he made his goal of enhancing them and turning them into beings akin to the divine as clear as daylight. I won't deny the fact that this man just keep on finding out new ways to break both the Hypocratic Oath and Geneva Conventions with each passing minute - and it's usually for his own amusement -, but he also seeks to sculpt each mercenary into the best versions of themselves not just as a testament to his own prowess, but also because of his fascination towards them; he just likes those goobers around him and sees the mercs as his fellow pals.

With all that being said, I personally don't believe that whatever power he gained as a result of these wishes would be on a similar caliber as his canonical healing skills; after all, even without Kyubey's interference, he has shown to be exceptionally skilled in his craft to the extent that he had deemed himself to be a god on multiple occasions- and none of them were without reason. Instead, I believe that the core theme of his new magical powers relate to limits- whatever barriers that prevented him from unlocking his and the rest's full potential, and fully dissipating them. Perhaps he can manifest organs, transfer them at high speeds, all the while making his surgeries a little easier for himself. The option of him being able to create little animated "familiars" of his own from the remains of both ally and enemy alike is also there. If you guys have better ideas, please don't hesitate to share; I'll have to admit that this coming up with wish-related powers is a personal weak point of mine, and I will be accepting any and all criticisms coming my way.

Finally, to close this section and move on to the next, I would also like to discuss the matter surrounding his soul gem, and how I would personally interpret it. I am unsure if what I am going to say next has been backed up by canon or not, but a nice detail that I have noticed whilst looking into the soul gems present in canon is that they often correspond with the eye colors of their respective magi; which brings to mind the idea of eyes being the windows to a person's soul. Even if it's not a mandatory rule for when it comes to designing a Magi (especially when we take Nagisa Momoe into account), we can still see this metaphor being at play on numerous occasions throughout the Madoka canons, and where else is it more evident than within Kazumi Magica and the Magia Record anime?

Putting it briefly, aside from just looking at their soul gem, another indicator of a magi's slip into witchhood is by looking into their eyes during their final moments; Michiru Kazusa's sclera turned completely dark as her pupils began to shift into scribbles, and Kuroe - poor, sweet Kuroe - had the same corruption her soul gem was undergoing being displayed from within, you guessed it, her eyes.

So, while I do believe that red could be a nice color for Ludwig's soul gem, as it would also correspond with him being on the RED team - as presented to us on the cover of Fight Songs -, I can also see that a striking blue could also fit our crazy bastard.

As for the emblems present on his soul gem's egg form and its shape upon transformation, I'm gonna be honest; this is gonna be a little more complex than the color part - especially with the soul gems of Tart Magica and Magia Record in mind -, but I will do my best to summarize it to the best of my abilities-

To make this easier for my sanity's sake, the red cross he is already associated with in-game will be present as the emblem on top of his soul gem, though the the one on the middle would probably be based on either his bonesaw, the Ubercharge, a realistic heart (as a tie-in to how the Ubercharge works), or his doves instead. The actual shape his soul gem take on upon transformation, on the other hand, would resemble a large, anatomical heart placed on the center of his chest - connected to the rest of it and his shoulders through glass arteries and veins - due to its sheer size; usually, a magi's soul gem is only large enough to fit within the palm of their hands, while Medic's could be as huge as his curled-up fist or even an ostrich's egg.

The cause behind this peculiarity will be thoroughly explained soon enough, but, for now, let us close this chapter up and move on to the next...

-Descent Into Despair-

Before we kick off this angst fest and start hypothesizing, we're gonna need to take a good look at the nature of the soul and how this ties into the existing similarities shared between Kyubey and Ludwig- yes, this will get wild, especially if you're in only one of those fandoms from the outside looking in, so it's best for you to buckle up, hon, 'cause we in for a fucking joyride.

According to multiple religious and philosophical texts, the soul is a vital, non-physical part of a human being; it is an individual's very core of existence. The soul isn't exactly abstract, per se, as it's believed to actually exist between the lines of this plane of reality and that of the intangible world, and that each person has a unique soul that is distinctly theirs; it is, by definition, metaphysical- that person is the soul, as much as the soul is them.

Despite the limitations placed upon us by the very nature of the soul, it can be treated as a tangible and even physical object within both the TF2 and PMMM canons; in the latter case, Kyubey was able to turn them into magical gems for the sake of both efficiency and "incubation" - the goal of turning his victims into despair-riddled witches that spread the very misery they are drowning in -, all the while, in the Team Fortress universe, they are treated as nothing more than organs that can be removed and then reapplied at will by the very hands of, you guessed it, our very own Ludwig Humboldt for the dual purpose of conning the Devil out of the ownership of his soul and, in turn, extending his own life span.

This brings us back to the very moment where Ludwig made his wish with Kyubey; as presented to us via both Sayaka Miki and Homura Akemi, the process of making a wish and establishing a contract with Kyubey is proven to be quite the painful procedure, as they were able to feel their souls being pulled right out of their bodies by Kyubey in order to remold the very cores of their whole existence into these magical jewels known as Soul Gems; shining with the wishes that bind them to the life of a Magi until they inevitably reach their grisly ends.

Medic, of all people, would absolutely be the first to know exactly how painful it would be to have one's soul be forcefully ripped out of one's own body; he had already done so to 8 other people before grafting the extracted essences into himself. As result of this forced amalgamation, the size of his soul gem would be, as already stated, much larger than average. As for Medic himself and his reaction to his accumulated souls being turned into this grand artifact of magical potential, he would be in a state of shock, awe, and perhaps even a tinge of conflict - from the pain alone, he knew that his souls were tampered with; extracted and reforged -, but they were miniscule when compared to the wave of amazement that washed over him as he held the newly formed symbol of his status as a magi in his hands, shining a brilliant red with the wish he made with the white devil before him.

If Medic had to be honest, he would say, without a shadow of a doubt, that the incubators sure knew what they were doing; despite the tinge of bitterness regarding his souls being torn out of him, it was undeniable that having his life essences be turned into an all-powerful jewel was rather efficient, especially when stranded within the chaotic, unforgiving battlefield. Besides, this deal not only granted him what he desired most in life, but it unlocked a whole new world for him to explore; the realm of the witches.

After his first witch hunt went off without a hitch, he looked at his soul gem...yes, it had dimmed a little, and, according to his newly-formed, four-legged acquaintance, its brightness reflected what magic he had left; the very power he had gained from their infernal deal. This knowledge, combined with the grief seed taking in the impurities he had accumulated, had sparked inspiration within him, and, inevitably, that little glimmer turned into a raging, uncontrollable wildfire.

As his lips curled into that deranged smile of his, he arrived to the conclusion that he needed to research both his soul gem and these otherworldly monsters. Oh, was he was ever-so excited; a whole new world of possibilities had unveiled before him! He knew he had to learn more about these witches, for they were prime candidates for new observations and experiments...

Besides, if things were to go awry, he would have his backup plans as safeguards. He looked at the large jewel on his desk, its light reflecting on his glasses, with a look of complete confidence- after all, he was Ludwig Humboldt, the RED team's medic; he had already played the classic team like the money-hungry fools they were, defied all known laws of life, death, and nature on the regular, and bested the Devil in his own game! What bases of morality and human decency were little more than etches on the wall to him, and he was willing to go above and beyond to ensure his own and the rest's survival.

He cackled; oh, there was no need for any worries, my friend! Whatever that may come to pass, he shall find a workaround. So, with his lips curling into that toothy smile of his, he went to work-

Just like clockwork, it didn't take long for his signature obsession to dig its talons; day by day, he would salvage what parts of these unfathomable creatures and bring them back to his infirmary- even going as far as to capture their familiars and the smaller witches to bring back. After all, killing these wicked creatures outright would just cause them and their barriers to fade away, so he had to think of workarounds in order to harvest as much useful parts of them as he could.

All that, and that is without even getting into the details of the bargain he had made with the little pale ferret- why, that rascal Kyubey could be considered a new good friend of his in his eyes! He had even experimented on the bipedal fiend, and the Incubator held no grudge towards the quack doctor (hence how he came into the knowledge of his entire species and the fact that they were a hivemind). Back on topic- yes, the contract in itself was agonizing, there was no denying that, but at least he had gained a myriad of benefits from their mutual agreement.

Yet, as the saying goes, the higher they soar, the harder they fall.

Within every enforced law and in every deal made, loopholes were an inevitability- Ludwig and Kyubey knew that all too well as the roles of the recipient and contractor respectively. Time and curiosity have worked hand-in-hand in order to nurture their individual experiences and wisdom surrounding this unwritten rule of the universe. As several blazing days turned into howling nights, Ludwig's intrigue towards the limitations set before him as both a mercenary and a Puer Magi grew; his souls being turned into a singular, portable trinket was effective, yes, especially with the magic he had gained and his more than impressive healing abilities making both jobs a lot more easier, but, of course, so much could go wrong in the long run-

Ah, and these witches- at this stage, he had accomplished what many had deemed to be either impossible or far too risky; lining up the walls of his laboratory, amongst the butchered appendages and organs of their kin, were the captured forms of smaller witches and familiars- some were still struggling to be set free, while the others have resigned themselves to their fates. Whenever Ludwig wasn't on either battlefields or experimenting on his teammates, he would be slicing and chopping these poor souls away- trying to see how they functioned, or even analyzing their individual reactions to his little tests. Each of these curse-driven monstrosities' very existence brought forth a cluster of enigmas that only Ludwig could unravel, and the answer to these riddles must be tied to the very core of these beings- whether we're talking about how they would function as a living organism...or their grief seeds.

Besides...in his mind, there was nothing wrong with getting a few more benefits for yourself, was there? So long as such a possibility could help him continue on with both his life and work without any worries over the unknown, he was willing to take that chance. He was more than willing to rise up in the face of these hindrances- even if it took nearly pushing his soul to its breaking point, or unleashing what horrors mankind is not ready for once he manages to crack open a grief seed, he was certain he would find his way through this maze.

Unfortunately, his trickery of the devil himself had rendered him too confident. This unassuming little creature was no devil.

The further he descended down the inferno, the more barricades he had encountered on his way; wounding and injuring him to no end. Even with his soul gem on the edge of shattering, the grief seeds he had gathered were torn apart, watching as his own teammates neared their own limits as he caught up with them during their own witch hunts- the result was the same; he needed to research this even further. The fact that the two objects were apparently made of the same material had led Ludwig to several hypotheses - even coming close to the truth himself -, but, let us be real here for a second- if he did manage to figure out the truth behind the witches, which, logically speaking, he would, would it even come close to bothering him?

In fact...who was to say that, by learning the origins behind these creatures, that he wouldn't embrace the corruption of his soul gem? That he wouldn't lay his old vessel to waste, and treat his ascension to a higher plane of existence as a new experience for him? If that wasn't the case, then wouldn't he also inadvertently boost the process by going through meaningless hoops in the attempt to prevent his pre-written fate?

When looking at a man like Ludwig, a man already too far gone, only cold insanity and sadism irradiated from him- possessing an uncaring glee over the prospect of being able to experiment on the less fortunate souls who got in his way. His insistence on carrying on with his research came to the shock of almost nobody; such was his habit, and the mercenaries got used to his antics over time- yet, as time passed, his grip on his frustrations, desperation, and ever-growing drive continued to waver; everything about this new perspective on life filled him with a sense of wonder, even the countless roadblocks he had encountered still gave him a sense of awe...

His soul gem was as large as it was powerful, yes; it would take a larger accumulation of filth in order to actually affect him in any way or manner, and the reserves of magic he had- oh, how brightly must his gem shine when at its peak! Yet, one must consider at what point will the accumulated filth become...irreversible- how, at a certain threshold, the process of gathering up enough grief seeds to make sure it stays at its brightest at all times will yield more drawbacks than prospects of restoration? That the net value of the magic restored will inevitably hit zero if not the negatives?

How many times must this cycle repeat itself in order for the magi to inevitably give up on keeping their own soul completely pure at all times?

Ludwig still managed to keep his magic reserves somewhat afloat; though his cheerful and friendly mannerisms haven't wavered a bit, he couldn't keep his attention away from the developments that were unfolding before him. The experiments he had conducted on both his soul gem and the grief seeds he had gathered up did not help at all; further damaging and tainting his core only to satiate his own curiosity. He saw no issues as darkness slowly consumed his soul gem- it was simply another phenomenon to experience and document, no? It wasn't like it was hurting him or anything- if anything grim were to occur, he had his backup plans...if he could find one that actually worked...

No matter what Ludwig did, it appeared that his core was strictly bound to this jewel; he wasn't able to separate the souls within it, and, no matter how many times he would place another soul within him, it would just fade away as soon as he reached for it- purifying his soul gem in the process and leaving Ludwig as hollow as he was before the tests.

...He needed to study this further.

Ludwig's worries and starvation for answers gnawed at him. Within his glass heart, shades of ebony and crimson danced around one another, with only a small glimmer of light flickering through the veins existing to provide any form of luminescence, and his eyes-

Mikhail felt a lump on his throat as he gazed into the medic's soul through them- his once bright, fear-inducing blue eyes were beyond bloodshot, and, by his life, he could have sworn he saw the particles of his overheals float amidst the chaos. Still, Misha gulped down his worries as he placed the sandwich on Ludwig's desk and expressed his concerns over his health- to which the doctor thanked him - for both the meal and his considerations -, and assured the Heavy Weapons Guy before him that it was really nothing to flutter his feathers over, in his own words.

It was all going to be worth it soon. He knew it.

Tensions within the RED base grew with every passing day, and nobody sensed it more than Mikhail and Dell Conagher; though Ludwig would insist that he was alright - that it was all a part of the usual routine - and how close he was to a breakthrough, the two couldn't help but look out for the well-being of their medic. For the last few weeks to come, the two would keep a close eye on him- checking on the guy every now and then - as much as they could -, and making sure he hadn't completely lost himself.

His answers were becoming more cryptic as time passed; no matter how much Dell would ask and express his concerns, Ludwig would still act nonchalant, even as his eyes continued to darken with and his health evidently took a nosedive. This was no need for the concern, my friend; he continued to promise the engineer that it was all working out fine, and that he'll be okay once it's all over. Dell still kept his guards up; worried that, one day, Ludwig's gonna go completely off the rails- his and Mikhail's resolution to keep that man safe grew with each conversation they had with him. Something just ain't completely sound here, and he'll have to be there for him when that time comes.

What a hollow vow.

Days blurred with one another in Ludwig's mind. Each passing second held little to no significance to him anymore. No, he had to continue on with his hunts- he needed to. His doves looked at him with worried expressions; the lab was a mess, with papers and feathers scattered everywhere, the lights burnt out, and Ludwig himself slouched on the chair- illuminated by moonlight, and still carrying that damned gem.

And...he was never as satisfied as he was right at this very moment.

He looked down at his beaten-down, darkening soul gem- it was all worth it, no? He gazed into the flickering crimsons as though he was in a daze. He was exhausted, unable to get up on his feet, but he didn't mind that at all. His team will understand soon enough...

The light within his soul gem went into a frenzy- he smiled from ear to ear, for it was finally time; the hour of revelation had dawned upon him. Like a grand supernova, it collapsed into itself.

Ludwig tilted his head backwards, still fascinated by what was happening before him even as all life escaped his eyes. He embraced the corruption consuming him, and, with a crack and a flash of bright light, the entire RED base was sent into chaos.

-The Witch's Nature-

In short, this is tied to the personality/aspect of a magi that did them in; what drove them to slip into despair with their skulls cracking wide open upon impact. To provide a few set examples; Homulilly's was Self-Sufficiency (closing herself off from others as both Moemura and Cool Homu), Oktavia's was to Fall in Love (the infatuation with both Kyosuke and the ideal of a Magical Girl marked poor Sayaka's end), and Candeloro's was inviting (Mami's coping mechanism to deal with her loneliness- and the irony of her dragging innocents into the life of a magi). It can also reflect the intent behind their wish (Sayaka and Madoka) or how they would cope with the life of a magi and the responsibilities that come with it moving forwards prior to their demise (Mami, Kyoko and Homura).

Unfortunately, it is rather....difficult to describe the traits and convictions that cause such complex characters to do what they have done in a single sentence, much less a word or two. For all anyone would know, any of the mentioned above - cause of their wishes, how they cope, and what finally marked their ends - could have been driven by a multitude of a magi's traits and goals, and Ludwig was no exception.

To make this easier on everyone, myself included, I have divided most of the traits that have pushed Lud over the edge into separate segments. The suggested natures listed below are in no particular order; one can fit the bill more than the other. Though I have chosen only one of them for the witch card, ya'll are free to reinterpret it with any of the other suggested natures.

Desperate

Cunning

Wonder

Sadistic

To Experiment

Observant

Curious

-The Witch's Appearance-

"I have a bird head! You're dominated! We're both having a bad day."

This might either be the most fun or the most agonizing segment of the entire thing. As a matter of fact, aside from his descent to despair, this part took me the longest to conceptualize, and it's still not 100% complete in my eyes, oh dear oh me-

Right off the bat- the witch has to be gruesome. I am not placing heavy emphasis on this one just because this is Medic we're talking about and how we're all aware of his...peculiar views on his job and the human body, but it's also due to the aforementioned souls he's surgically implanted into himself prior to contracting. Let me state this again- before managing to find and ensure a contract with Kyubey, the man had already managed to turn the abstract concept of a soul into nothing more than an organ that can be grafted into himself; that ferret's nifty trick is no longer special.

To showcase exactly why the topic of Lud having multiple souls is so integral here, we have to recall that, throughout the Puella Magi canon, we have witnessed witches fusing with one another via various means; it has been stated that Walpurgisnacht was a singular witch who fused with others over time, and Kazumi Magica's Hyades Daybreak was an artificially-created witch born from the fusion of multiple soul gems. You could argue that Madokami is another such example thanks to Homura's resets and wish having her as the main focus; thus binding her to multiple iterations of herself across numerous timelines (as is it made clear to us with Madokami's transformation sequence in Magia Record).

The point being is that not only is Medic's witch's stupidly powerful, but I doubt it would be pretty to the eyes; unlike Madoka, those souls weren't originally his, and the way that he fused himself with said souls is thanks to his, let's say, bizarre surgical skills, and not due to whatever logic is behind the witches' ability to fuse with one another. Think of the core of his very being as an amalgam; whether he's retained his original soul from the Devil's ownership upon contracting or not is up to you, but the idea still stands nonetheless. It wouldn't just be some Frankenstein-esque monstrosity with stitches, additional appendages, and mismatched skin, either; the organs representing the souls he had stolen are there for all to see just beneath his unassuming, reliable, and even charming exterior.

Now that we've gotten some key details written down, we are going to have to examine his role, self-image, history, and the impact his actions had on the rest of the team in order to actually, well, design the bastard's personification of obsession and despair; these four elements are crucial for when it comes to designing a decent witch that would not only fit in the world of Madoka Magica, but also drive home the idea that these witches were once Magi themselves- with their own dreams and goals.

We'll kick this off by looking at Ludwig's role in the canon of Team Fortress 2; he is the de-facto healer, but he's less interested in actually helping the ill and is more into the idea of tinkering with the human form- going as far as to use animal organs for his whack scientific endeavors for the goal of satisfying his curiosity. His healing abilities are also stated to be side-effects of his knowledge regarding human anatomy- even the Medigun wasn't initially supposed to be healing the mercs, according to the lore provided for us.

While on topic, I should also bring Medic's gameplay onto the table; though he is one of the weaker classes when speaking in terms of strength, making sure your team's medic stays on the map for as long as you could is crucial. Think of him as the king piece on a chess board; once your doc out of the picture, not only will your team start to drop like flies, but you'll lose some of that sweet, sweet Uber time. There is a reason as to why Medics tend to stay around the more resilient classes rather than glass cannons like Scout; survival and defenses.

Next up, we'll talk about his self-image and how he is perceived by the rest. As we can tell, he takes much delight in his work and his experiments on other human beings- he doesn't see anything to worry about his interests and the peculiar way he goes about it, no matter how extreme it is. Obviously, the man's not in-tune with the concept of human morality- going as far as to see these unwritten rules of humanity as nothing more than roadblocks on the way of his life.

In spite of his...screws being more than loose, as I already stated above, it isn't like he sees his fellow mercenaries as lesser beings when compared to himself; he does like them, albeit in his own amoral, gory way - he wouldn't have granted them the power of invincibility otherwise, among the other feats in modern science he had accomplished in order to save his team's asses -. Yeah, he does experiment on them, but, at this point, that's just how he says "hello"- and, when compared to what he did to the Classics, the adjustments made were for the active benefit of his team (...most of the time).

From all this, we can tell that his witch is on the more dangerous side (AS IF THE EXTRA SOULS DIDN'T DO THE JOB?)- with a dash of grace, of course; a reflection of his friendly exterior hiding away his twisted interests and "job"- and, fellas, he adores his work. He holds no regards for the safety of his patients and how outlandish his experiments are; he already kept an enemy Spy's head alive in a fridge, for corn's sake. Nonetheless, he is still a competent doctor- more than competent, in fact; when given the right tools, organs, time, and budget- death is no more than a small hurdle to him. He also genuinely cares for his fellow mercs, even going as far as to call them his friends; maybe that's how the witch will see his own familiars? What if he also tries to smile, joke around, and sing lullabies as he cuts open his human victims?

By looking at this being, only unfathomable, suffocating dread surrounded you- for you were in the presence of he who holds the thread between life and death. This creature before you- no, that isn't right...this deity looked down upon his next patient; surrounded by the lifeless husks of his familiars and their victims, he was rather annoyed over the prospect of having his work be interrupted, but he was also more glad that a living being had wandered into the operating room. Yes, he knew it now; a sadistic sense of glee beamed from the monster as he knew that the next medical trial will be a lot more interesting than he had expected.

Finally, to wrap things up, we glance at his history. Now, I am going to give you guys the heads-up in advance, because not only will this segment be composed of speculations for the most part, but we will be discussing themes of ethn1c gen0c1de. If this topic is in any way triggering, scroll down to the part where we talk about either the latter part of his design, his barrier- or just skip right to the Witch's Card. Clicking away from this post altogether is also highly encouraged.

Much of Ludwig's history is currently kept wrapped under shadows- we were told of Mikhail's, Tavish's, Jeremy's, Dell's, Mundy's, and even Jane's lives before they joined RED/BLU and partook in the Gravel Wars, but, aside from the enigmatic Pyro, Medic was the only one whose backstory was never clearly given to us. All we have to go off of are the bits and pieces peppered across the official website(s) and several official cosmetics-

We all know that he was native to and lived in Germany "during an era where the Hippocratic Oath had been downgraded to an optional Hippocratic suggestion" until he had escaped it by hijacking a catering van during a prime minister's wedding for reasons currently unclear to us - it has been speculated it was due to him having stolen a man's whole skeleton, but he had stated that he lost his medical license soon after the incident -. In the Two Cities update, one of the signs present in Rottenburg, his hometown, was that of a pharmacy advertising a number of...odd products, one of which being Baboon Hearts (leading to the speculation that his name has to be Humboldt- as it was the name of said pharmacy and the confirmation that Medic descended from a line of mad scientists like himself). We also know that he had found and then adopted his doves, namely Archimedes, as he escaped via grand theft catering van.

These should be all he scraps we were given in regards to Ludwig as a character outside of his job and the mercenary business, right? Weeeeeeelll....not quite. There is still one more jigsaw puzzle we should piece together, and, when combined with the time period TF2 takes place in, it does not paint a pretty picture of his life prior to becoming a mercenary. Folks...

We have to talk about Ludwig's Jewish coding, and the implications it has in regards to his backstory when combined with the timeline of the Team Fortress universe.

Though it was never explicitly stated to us, several aspects of Medic do shine a light towards this specific direction; to make this easier for us all, I'll just be listing down the evidence present across the canons of both the game and the comics-

The theme song of his bird, Archimedes, that plays during his surgery on Heavy in Meet the Medic is Klezmer music- Yiddish folk music

His pronunciation of "Danke Schon" is the Yiddish way

In the Gargoyles and Gravel comic, he was dressed up as the openly Jewish Albert Einstein for Halloween

The most damning of all, Valve's insistence that Medic is NOT a N-zi; especially with how fanmade cosmetics that portray him in such a way are often taken down almost immediately

Now, I do understand the fact that Ludwig is far from a saint, but...you have to understand the sheer, vile evil the N-zis and their ideology embody- and, unfortunately, he was also another target for their venomous rampage. Add in the fact that it was at full swing back when Lud was a young adult and he probably witnessed the rise of the heinous ideology when he was a little sap, and...there is no way I can say this lightly-

Ludwig had lived through dark, heinous years. Maybe he's always been this crazy, maybe what was left of his sanity had shattered to brittle pieces thanks to what he and countless others were forced to experience- perhaps he was already insane, but the slaughters and oppression were a whole other degree of evil to him; of course, until the writers at Valve say otherwise, all this falls upon how you personally interpret Medic as a character and how he coped with his backstory.

Though this is all just simple speculation based on what bits and pieces of the man's background we were given officially, it does bring into question what Lud had experienced outside of his medical endeavors. Besides, topics surrounding the second world war have already been explored in the world of TF2- Heavy's backstory is one example, where he and his family were sent to a gulag following the imprisonment and execution of his father, a counter-revolutionist; they only managed to escape once it had burnt down. The trauma of the experience still lingers within Mikhail, as was shown to us in A Cold Day in Hell, so such a backstory for Ludwig is not out of the realm of possibility.

With all that in mind, one must wonder about the kinds of thoughts that were running through Ludwig's mind during that time, and place his escape from Germany under a different light. I must, once again, repeat the statement that Ludwig is not a good man, but did that justify whatever he possibly went through? He even went as far as to crash a political figure's wedding in order to flee; was it because of the hilarity factor TF2 and Medic as a character are well-known for - namely after he stole that dude's skeleton -? Or was there another aspect at play- one of utmost urgency? After all, leaving one's home country for good has got to be a difficult decision- he didn't even return to Rottenburg when Grey Mann took over, implying that, unlike the rest, he didn't have anything waiting for him back home...

Ah, it wasn't like it mattered to him nowadays, anyway; nay, he dared not to think about it any further- all that mattered to him now were his research...his experiments...

So, with all the complicated stuff set on the table, let's move on to the simpler bits of a witch's design- the glue that tie all these bits and pieces together!

Where do we start? With the Magi's own design, of course! After all, Oktavia's knightly theme didn't just come from Sayaka's desire to become a hero/Kyosuke's knight in shining armor, and don't get me started on Homulilly's final form. I am certain that there are other witches that would also help get the point across, like Charlotte, but let's not extend this segment too much.

Upon taking a closer look, we can see that Ludwig's design invokes the imagery of a dove - just like how the little nubs on Nagisa's hat are reminiscent of mouse ears (and we all know how her witch form looks like) -, especially with the ends of his coat resembling a dove's tail feathers. Several cosmetics of his that are present in the game also boost this specific theme of his, especially the Blighted Beak mask, the Wings of Purity, and, of course, the infamous Medimedes bird head.

Of course, this might be a reference to the doves in his lab - there we go, simple as that -, but I don't think that's all there is to it; remember, for an amoral, crazed man like Medic, he is still represented by holy themes, much like any other healer in most media. When you think of a healer, you think of a person who swore under the oath of not doing any harm, and have devoted themselves to the life of pacifism...everything that Medic is not. In fact, Medic himself invokes the fear of being before the almighty; how small and utterly insignificant we are in his eyes, and that, to a being with a mind like Ludwig's, our lives are in the palms of his hands to toy with.

Ah, sacricore and holy themes- don't we just love them? The idea of a savior is definitely written down; a brilliant being with evidence of the slaughter staining his hands. Doves are also gonna be heavily referenced- what kind of Medic-related design are we working on if we didn't give him a pair of wings or two?

As a matter of fact, who is to say that the witch isn't a mad, humanoid-ish dove? With his crooked, bright smile and unfeeling red eyes being hidden by his aura and brilliant, white feathers? You think you might be in the presence of a god of hospitals and medicine, and he even approaches you with such a cheerful demeanor; happy to see a patient stumbling into his lab! That is, until you see how red the ends of his feathers are, how wide that smile is under that plague mask of his, and his eyes...

Hang on- is this a plague mask to begin with? As your eyes finally focus...you can see that it is jutting out of his skin- it's not a mask, but a part of his skull.

Next, we are going to focus on the magi's weapon and what powers they had prior to witchification; now, I am aware that their weapons and their powers are not always reflected in their witch designs - coughs coughs, Kriemhild and Homulilly -, but it does appear to be an "either/both/neither" case for when it comes to analyzing and designing them - I mean, just look at Ophelia -. Besides, Team Fortress 2 is a combat-oriented game, so it would be of great disservice to the game if I did NOT incorporate the main vessel in which you would use to bludgeon your enemies to smithereens with.

Once more, the Medic's main shtick is healing and granting your team a wide number of buffs depending on the medigun equipped; the Kritzkrieg grants a 100% crit chance upon activation, the Vaccinator provides immunity/reduced damage against several damage types, and don't get me started on the number of buffs a Medic can grant their team alone in the Mann vs. Machine mode. For now, we'll just be focusing on the classical Medigun, and how it grants invincibility to both himself and the person he is healing upon activation.

As seen in Meet the Medic, this was possible due to the adjustments made on each of the mercs' hearts- or, what replacements they have received in place of said organs, considering that even HEAVY'S had burst from the pressure caused by his medigun's rays. It is shown to us that the heart begins to pump at an accelerated rate upon activation, likely to spread the influence of the medigun at full power through the subject's veins; turning them into a bulletproof behemoths ready to turn the enemy team into a pile of mush.

From this alone, we can pinpoint the idea that hearts are an important motif in his witch's design. I'd also wager that he'd also possess powers that aren't unlike the functionalities of his medigun; allowing him to heal himself, his familiars, and even other witches at close proximity- bloodthirsty, erratic mercenary or not, he is still the team's doctor. Once the witch starts glowing red, you only have a few seconds to either find a weak point as soon as you could or make a break for it.

To further build upon this theme, attached to his back, not looking too dissimilar to how his medigun backpack, are vials filled with fluid that each resemble the lights of a soul gem at its limit. Within them, he stores his victim's souls, blood, guts, and organs for future usage. How did they get here? Why, with his other appendage hidden inside his forearm; resembling a combination between a saw and a needle. It is easy to use a surgical knife, yes, but some patients are...less than cooperative.

Before we unveil the finalized-ish idea for the witch, I should also take a second to talk about his hypothetical barrier and possible witch's kiss/warlock's whisper. It is true that the most powerful witches in-canon don't exactly need to hide in their barriers - case in point, Walpurgisnacht, Kriemhild Gretchen, Hyades and Shitori Egumo -, but, if we go by the concept art pertaining to Kriemhild Gretchen, we can see that they do have labyrinths they call their own. Even Walpurgisnacht has a pocket space she calls her home; it's the none other than the monochrome hallway Madoka was running through during episode 1, as confirmed by the PSP Game. If neither Walpurgis nor Kriemhild were exempt from this rule, then it shouldn't be surprising to see that this also applies to Ludwig's witch.

As stated in the January 2012 issue of Dengeki Playstation, a witch's labyrinth represents "the magical girl's mental landscape before they became a witch"; Oktavia's was a concert hall- resembling the one where she would watch Kyousuke play the violin, Candeloro's a tea party for one- representing how she would cope with her loneliness and the fact that she arranged her meetings with Madoka and Sayaka as tea parties -, and, according to the aforementioned concept art, Kriemhild's barrier is an obsidian and magenta void full of floating furniture- specifically those of her and her mother's rooms.

From these examples, we can assume that the barrier represent core memories of the magi before they fell into despair, and are either tied to the reason behind their wishes or how they coped with their lives after contracting:

Madoka had a healthy family life in comparison to the other members of the holy quintet, and it is thanks to the environment she was raised in that she ended up becoming the merciful, selfless girl that we all know today

Everything about Homulilly's barrier just represent how much Madoka meant to Homura, even if she didn't exactly see her perspective 1:1; as such, the rundown state of Mitakihara City not only represents her time loops and how it is the setting for all her time loops, but also how she failed to protect Madoka in the end and to grieve the normal life they could have had- had it not been for the universe and everything it stood for standing against them (it might also foreshadow the choice she had made at the end of Rebellion; trapping her team and the rest of the city in a gilded cage so that the incubators will not have a chance at hurting Madoka ever again)

Nagisa didn't have much of a social life outside of school, her run-down home, and visiting the hospital where her mother was at- and it is within that hospital that she proclaimed that she was done with being the perfect daughter to someone who barely deserved it; that it was her turn to take control

We can even tell that Sayaka watching Kyousuke's concerts was such a pivotal moment in her life because of how this specific memory was shown to us at least twice during the series; when she explained what happened to him and the cause behind her wish, and as soon as her soul gem had reached the point of no return- albeit for a split second.

Of course, this is not necessarily a strict rule to follow for when it comes to designing and deciphering witch labyrinths; H.N Elly's barrier resembles a snow globe in composition - according to production notes -, Charlotte is having a tea party with a doll in which both of them are unable to respond, and...I am not 100% sure on what to make of Ophelia's barrier- though I will come back to it later. Barriers don't have to be based on actual locations that are significant to the magi's life; rather, they can be manifestations of their desires prior to witching out- Elly wished to preserve a happy memory that gave her a shred of respite in the midst of the stressful life of an idol; and the tea party symbolizes the relationship Nagisa craved from her mother, that she was the timid one of both parties- silent as a doll, and how ultimately hollow that wish is- in the end, it's just a toy; it cannot respond to her even if she could speak, nor could it comfort her.

Unsurprisingly, I can see that Ludwig's barrier could be an infirmary...no, that can't be right; after all, Ludwig does what he does not out of compassion for the sick, but because he could. He seeks to change and perfect the mercs; turning them into unstoppable killing machines forged by his own hands and mind. He usually does all this to satisfy that itch in his mind and the excitement whatever results he gets from these surgeries bring him. It looks like a place of respite for one's health, but it is a death trap, first and foremost.

As a reference to his escape from Germany, maybe Ludwig's doves are still flying around the barrier; blood and feathers staining the floors and hallways, and themes of uprooted trees are peppered in as paintings and ruined potted plants. This represents the panic setting in and high speeds of the van, on top of how he came to discover and adopt these feathery companions of his, while the uprooted tree symbol suggests that he has nothing waiting for him back home in Germany; the other mercenaries went back home after the events of Rings of Fired (sans Pyro and Engie) except for Medic, after all. Maybe he was just lucky(?) enough to immediately land a job amongst the classic mercs, or perhaps...he just couldn't go back "home", not after everything.

Going back to the canonical barriers for a sec, one part of when it comes to designing a proper labyrinth is that, sometimes, a person can sway your heart so much they could change the trajectory of your ideals and influence the way you look at both your actions and the world around you.

This is most evident in Ophelia's barrier, as seen to us in Madoka Magica Portable; though it's hard for me personally to decipher exactly what it is, there's a fuck-ton of symbolic elements literally swimming around there, including musical notes floating from the ground and into the air. I don't think I need to specify exactly what said notes represent here.

Since there are multiple rooms within a barrier that can serve different functions, perhaps there's an outdoors segment where the magi first end up in; a frigid winter wonderland threatening to turn this labyrinth's visitors' limbs into unfeeling, darkened blocks of frozen meat falling off their bones. The only salvation from this bitter cold is to enter the interior segments of the barrier, and, even then, you are still not at all safe; his familiars are still on high alert- whenever they aren't "looking after" the other patients present -, and the infirmary in of itself is nothing more than the lure of an anglerfish- fooling the humans who have stumbled into it and punishing them to a fate worse than death.

The conveyor belt stretches through the halls of the labyrinth and leads right to the center; the operating room. There, the doctor awaits either his next batch of organs - human or otherwise - or a new patient. Ah, how everything runs smoothly; the bloodshed, the violence, the screaming- such fine melodies, they nearly compelled him go and play a tune on his "bone" saw at this very moment.

Another small detail that I want to pepper in is that there are the sounds and vibrations of a heart beat that echo through the halls of the labyrinth's interior sections. Perhaps there are slices of lavish wedding cakes (the van), pretzels (Germany), and all manners of bread (the mercs and that bread monster) that are being served in the canteen- and, before you ask, no, I would not recommend eating them. I know I already said that hearts are a core theme of the witch's design itself, and maybe the canteen thing is a bit too farfetched, but, hey, a nice detail is a nice detail.

Finally, so we can wrap this whole segment up already, we'll discuss the details of his witch's kiss/warlock's whisper. Now, Witch Kisses in-canon are...weird; they hold less consistencies than the witches themselves and their barriers, so it is hard to draw out the necessary similarities needed to create a decent design. Some witch's kisses are tied to the witch's type (Uhrmann, Homulilly), designs (Oktavia, Elly), and their grief seeds (Kriemhild). Sometimes, I have no idea on what they represent at all! (CANDELORO) I'm just gonna go on a limb here and just...wing it.

-BADUM TSS-

Okay, okay, that was horrible, I'm sorry. Indeed, wings will be a key theme- specifically 6 of them; not only are they reflective of him being a dove, but also to boost the holiness theme he has going on and to symbolize his earlier deal with the devil. In the middle of it, a clawed, red hand grabs on to an anatomical heart; whether he is handing it out or taking it for himself is unknown. Upon closer inspection, one can see that it is affecting the victim's veins, causing the area around the whisper to turn into a deep, glowing red; remember how the ubercharge works, people.

Finally, finally, after two months of hard work - two months of AGONY -, we have it; the moment we have all been waiting for...

-Witch Card-

Asclepius, the Warlock of Reconfiguration. His nature is wonder. A revolting, mad avian who conceals his sickened mind with the appearance of a plague doctor, and a charming, silver tongue. Upon gathering up those who would become the volunteers and patients for his latest medical trials, his very own ward begins to choir and hum with every slice and stitch made on his victims' bodies; readjusting and mutilating their forms to fit what piqued his mind at the hour.

The leftover organs are then either stored for his future endeavors, swallowed whole by the warlock in order to improve upon his own self, or are kept alive - perhaps even conscious - within his barrier as a testament to his prowess; eternally trapped and wailing for the liberation of death.

-Familiars-

Galatea. Servants of the Warlock of Reconfiguration. Their duty is to worship. The warlock's beautiful creations- the culminations of his medical curiosities. Right out of the operating tables, they would test out the enhancements blessed to them, and continue to be of good use to the warlock by defending his infirmary and the operating room. Those who cross paths with the Galateas will not see a hint of hesitation- they are willing to keep the bloodshed around the labyrinth ongoing for the sake of their doctor, even at the cost of their own lives.

Though the warlock prefers the blank slates that are the humans who get admitted to his infirmary, he would still pick apart at and experiment on his Galateas, whether in order to fix them, enhance them using the organs of his victims, or to salvage as much of their parts as he could- perhaps in order to rebuild them in the future.

(Familiars are said to be "projections of a magi's heart before they became a witch"; as result, their duties can range from directly serving the witch - the Holgers representing Sayaka's desire to be in the center of Kyousuke's attention, and the Anthonies are tasked to care for the roses Gertrud cherishes from the bottom of her heart -, to becoming obstacles to all, sometimes even to the witches themselves - the Klarissas' only task is to dance around Oktavia, Anja's stated to have been separated from Albertine, and dare I talk about how the Clara Dolls represent Homura's self-loathing over her inability to save Madoka? -. It isn't uncommon to see that a familiar can be based on significant key figures in the magi's life, especially if they were either related to the wish they made or the cause(s) behind their despair.

These buggers here symbolize Ludwig's love for not just mutilation, but also reinventing the way his teammates' organs function- and, as I mentioned before, his deep trust in the mercenaries. He also compared himself to the divine on numerous occasions and is followed by multiple holy motifs in spite of his little deal with the devil going on; he was even followed by a choir and his doves flying behind him as soon as he stepped into the battlefield in Meet the Medic.)

-

Hubris. Servants of the Warlock of Reconfiguration. Their duty is donation. Bound by their hauteur and the broken bones of their bounties, these pathetic prisoners of the warlock have been chained and are treated as nothing more than livestock by both their master and his other servants. Watching their own organs and other body parts be pulled apart from one another before regenerating once more for the continuation of this cycle has drained all hope of ever escaping their punishments from their eyes- not with these atrophied limbs and sore boils.

Their stringy, rotting flesh provide little to no sustenance for neither the warlock nor his other familiars, and are too fragile to use for his medical trials - hence the need for human patients -. Nonetheless, they are bound to these spare operating tables, awake at all times, as the claws of the other servants pick apart and toy with each and every one of their fibers. The warlock finds humor in their agonized howls.

(They resemble misshapen versions of the TFC team - barring their own medic -, since we are going with the assumption that he took their souls rather than those his own teammates. Why I went with the idea of the classics themselves becoming his familiars is and are not just projections of how Medic saw them during his time working with them is due to how both Walpurgisnacht and Hyades Daybreak had their respective original forms re-manifesting as their own familiars.

Yes, Cheavy gets the worst of it.)

-

Archimedes. An old friend of the Warlock of Reconfiguration. His duty is attendance. As he glides through the bloodstained halls of the infirmary, this dove, whose pristine feathers have long since been soaked with a deep crimson throughout his master's countless trials, would not only take part in the warlock's surgeries as the role of a willing audience, but he would also stand by and even assist (Asclepius) - all the while satisfying his own morbid, sickened curiosity -. Of all familiars, the warlock treats this one with the most respect, understanding, and fatherly affection.

(Not a familiar that looks like the bird, not a familiar that is inspired by the bird- it's the fucking bird itself.)

-Inspirations-

In-game:

His doves, and the fact that Archimedes was a WEDDING DOVE before Medic found him

Him hijacking the chancellor's van during his wedding in order to escape Germany (and eventually finding then adopting Archimedes who was within it)

His silver tongue clashing with or weirdly complementing his deranged personality and actions; would it translate into his witch looking more humanoid, among other traits? Well...

His usage of animal organs to compensate for the fragility of human organs might make the humanoid aspect of his witch sort of moot

His bonesaw and how he plays it like a violin (non-conventional musicals?)

The Vita-saw

Ubercharge

Him playing cosmic systems like a damn skipping rope to his advantage (reviving Sniper and having multiple souls sewn into himself in order to scam the Devil out of their deal). This does not work with Kyubey, like, sir, your surname ain't Kaname, if memory serves me right

The Blighted Beak cosmetic; its Vibrio Cholerae style specifically, as it would better fit Inu Curry's art style

Medic's gameplay in both the vanilla game and the V-Script Zombie Infection mode

"And no wonder! For even the devil disguises himself as a being of light." - His association with themes that are considered "holy" and "good" in Meet the Medic and several of his own cosmetics...yeah, no need for me to go into detail as to how ironic this all is

Outside Influences:

The Greatest Living Show by Itoki Hana and Toby Fox (wow, I have an addiction to Itoki Hana's songs, don't I?)- evident especially with the heart beats in his barrier

Repo! The Genetic Opera

German fairytales- especially with how some of them revolve around mortals dealing with otherworldly beings

-Closing Statements-

To be completely honest, I wish I was able to actually draw this shit and not make ya'll read through this drag of a document and leave the gist of it up to your imaginations. I also have to apologize for how rushed it is near each segment's ending; I initially wanted to publish this around the start of October, but it was far, FAR from finished by the time it rolled around.

This has been a wild 2 or so months; constantly looking up references and refining the concept time and time again along the way, and it is still not perfect (especially with how the description of the warlock's appearance), but, overall, I am very happy to have managed to deliver it during spooky season.

I should also give a huge thanks to @bluethepearldiver! Not only did they support me incredibly so throughout the process of writing this in ways I cannot write down so easily, but they've also helped me with the names of his familiars and that RAW line ("Unfortunately, his trickery of the devil himself had rendered him too confident. This unassuming little creature was no devil.")! So, please, do give them the support they deserve ;0;

Once more, I am more than willing to listen to suggestions and criticisms; I'm aiming to not just improve upon Asclepius, but also the other mercs' witch forms when the time comes (I even have a concept for Scout's)! Do not be afraid to send an ask or even tag me regarding the matter- I'll do my best to reply (if Tumblr gets its head outta its ass and does its job notifying me for once)!

Thank you all so, so much for reading all this! I appreciate any and all engagements and feedback coming my way.

[facets-and-rainbows]

Blue Exorcist 147 summary

The official translation is delayed relative to the raws this month so I get to paraphrase a chapter just like old times! The nostalgia!

Fairly detailed spoilers and no images:

Asmodeus goes on about how Shura is full of contradictions (young but also somehow aged, cold like ice but with a burning passion, full of life but death has always been close by) and says she's his type (ewwwww) Shura says Asmodeus is not her type, sorry, and shoots him full of icicles XD He tells her to go deeper with it (eeeewwwwwwwww), the pain makes him feel alive

Rin and Yukio have another round of "BUT SHURA!" "BUT THE WHOLE MISSION!" and the mission wins out They safely make it to the door with the rest of the team, but the door won't open normally so we've got some kind of RPG style door puzzle on our hands Yukio sees the L (probably Left) and R (probably right) on the doors but that doesn't explain THAT MESSED UP LITTLE DISPLAY OVER THERE So the real question is what on EARTH does the bleeding corpse suspended over a meat grinder with the inscription "VL" mean Yukio and Neuhaus together wonder if the V is roman numeral 5 and 5L means you have to give it five liters of blood (one person's worth) to open it They get as far as wondering if you could just borrow like a freshly dead corpse from the battlefield, (they're not using their blood anymore, does it HAVE to be fresh?) before Rin is like….yeah we could take a look at the whole thing from above first though? Heh I think Rin is using fire to burn some footholds as he and Yukio climb? (Edit: wait I'm dumb it's Satan's fire, I already forgot that the walls burn you when you try to climb them lol) Yukio showed off his fireproofness and Rin was all impressed and Yukio very nearly almost smiled

MEANWHILE Amon is struggling with Osceola more than he thought In fact, the fight has damaged/destroyed his emerald ring! His 10.8 carat emerald ring!! Tragic He stomps on Osceola brutally while yelling THAT WAS WORTH MORE THAN YOUR DUMB HUMAN LIFE and OH JESUS IS THAT A DISEMBODIED ARM My Concern For Osceola Gauge just spiked again guys Katoh please he's two days from retirement!! Amon decides screw it, he's just gonna blow everything up at this point. Apparently being a sun god comes with the ability to go supernova and be reborn later (Huh! The sun disk over his head is his demon heart! and he's able to shatter it and have it reform) It'll take like ten minutes for this drama man to do his drama thing so let's cut back to the kids

Rin and Yukio find that the door leads to a bottomless pit even if you DO get it open So what gives? L might be "left" but what's the V? Rin observes that there's some patterns/symbols/something on the ground. Yukio recognizes them as Indo-Arabic numerals. V is 7. So I guess the seventh symbol on the left is the real door. They go there and find a little hidden entrance. No blood sacrifice required! The weird meat machine is a gross red herring! I feel like this is a lil jab at the first anime ending XD

On the way to bring everyone to the entrance, we run into This Asshole Again ("BUT SHURA!" "BUT THE WHOLE MISSION!") Asmodeus says that it's a pretty sweet gig, being a demon of his or Amon's level. Easy to find hosts and they don't disintegrate too fast. But BECAUSE of that, you don't REALLY get to feel alive (He shoots nasty energy beams at the kids and Shura defends them as he's saying this) Asmodeus says that pain and fear and despair are all proof that you're alive! And he can live vicariously through Shura by making her feel these things! Ew!

Cliffhanger on him winding up to kill someone or other in front of an exhausted Shura, while Osceola tries to stand up Osceola is just absolutely maxing out my Concern For Osceola Gauge in that last panel. Concern levels are off the charts here

[kaitlyn-pink]

BRAINROT SCENARIO IDEAS I KEEP THINKING OF AFTER ARTW ENDED (maybe some spoilers for floor 13?)

1; The Sorcerers appearing in the Summoners dreams.

I imagine it’d be like summoning them in your dreams, but instead of a physical summon it’s the subconscious. So it’s still them, just not physically. BUT LIKE just imagine it’s a month or two after you’re back in mid earthiem and you go to sleep then meet them in your dreams?? THE ANGST POTENTIAL??

2; The time flow is different so they age? Mature? Basically change at different rate

SO like different time flows between the two worlds, so if you DO meet them in the dreams or physically again they will have changed much more significantly than you have 😭

I don’t know if the sorcerers actually age (like Schedar, old as-) but maybe just slower, but I think they’d definitely mature and grow. LIKE a month passed for you, it’s 100 years for them or something like that.

3; Memory fading, the imprint fading, death, other angst points.

SO LIKE I know the sorcerers have good memories, but either they or the summoner forget each other eventually with time and age before they reunite.. ITS UNLIKELY BUT STILL MY HEART-

ALSO the imprints eventually fading as the years pass. CUZ IF THE SUMMONER GROWS OLD OR THE SORCERERS AGE A LOT OVER TIME, WHAT IF THE IMPRINTS FADE AWAY?? Also just the summoner looking in the sky and spotting the constellations.. 😭

Imagine the summoner eventually dies and the sorcerers do find a way to mid earthiem just to find out the summoner passed and they were too late.. OW..

BUT I HAVE FLUFFIER IDEAS 😁 (I dont)

4; Watching the constellations change

Because the Castor and Pollux thing right? LISTEN, imagine the constellation eventually visibly wakes up?? AND SUMMONER CAN SEE HOW THE CONSTELLATIONS ARE RESPONDING SO THEY KNOW HOW THEY’RE DOING??

5; The Sorcerers find a way to let Summoner safely cross OR Summoners magic improves to the point it’s useless for them to stay in Mid Earthiem

The title explains it all honestly, they find a way back and stabilize the summoners magic. ALSO SO THAT ITS THEIR OWN NOT POLARIS’ (I’m still salty about that)

6; Being able to meet them in shared dreams at night

LIKE IMAGINE BRO

Spica changing his sleep schedule to be able to check in with you more, Pollux and Arcturus rambling about their days with you and making plans for when they meet again, Alpheratz and Vega checking in and making sure you take care of yourself, Sirius 😶

(By the way Sirius is so fked, man’s became Debris and is NOT COMING BACK, NOR WANTS TO SEE US)

ALSO IMAGINE YOU CAN PHYSICALLY TOUCH IN THE DREAMS! (DO NOT get the wrong idea. I mean if you want sure but 🤗) Just cuddling in the dream space after a long day or just missing them and feeling lonely. 😭

ALSO IF MULTIPLE SORCERERS COULD COME IN?? ESP FOR BIRTHDAYS OR HOLIDAYS TO SAY HELLO?? 😭

Only thing I could see go wrong is that they use this to cope and form unhealthy sleep schedules to try to see Summoner more, and vice-versa. (Alpheratz’ schedule is already messed up but dw abt it ☺️)

7; Best scenario for last

Throat punch Sirius.

⬇️ For all the Sirius fans ☺️

[pixelmator5]

C3 EP59 Thoughts and Spoilers

Under the cut for obvious spoilers...

Team AOL is now confirmed to be Team Issylra, so I was right

Deni$e is my favorite of the guests, and even though I think it’s dumb, her outing her real name because she misheard someone else seems totally on brand.

I’ve never seen Utkarsh before but if he is an avid DnD player like I’ve heard he does an excellent job acting like he has never played before

I’ve heard he is likely method acting, as Bor’Dor would have no idea what he’s doing given he got his magical abilities literal hours before we met him (allegedly)

Prism is precious, and the first time I’ve ever seen a Scribes Wizard played before, which makes me excited to see what she can do.

Ashton, Orym, and Laudna are all depressed and that makes me feel things it shouldn’t.

Laudna, the one who doesn’t let anything get her down because the worst thing to happen to her has already happened, is heavily compartmentalizing and states that if she talks too much she’s scared she’ll just start crying.

Ashton who was glad they were doing something good and thought they did enough now has to come to grips with the fact that they weren’t enough after Bell’s Hells had done so much to build them up over the past several months and has gone back to their old world view after finally thinking they can make a difference

Orym, who has never let his size bother him, states that he feels small, when never before has he thought of himself as anything less than himself.

Now for my theories...

Bor’ Dor is hiding something and isn’t quite what he seems. I don’t know what it is but he almost seems a little too clueless.

Deni$e is a Totem Barbarian 5/Thief Rogue 4. The thief seems self explanatory but the totem stuff is pure speculation. Given her combat actions, we can safely eliminate most options, including Ancestral, Zealot, Storm, Wild Magic, and Beast, leaving Battlerager, Berserker, and Totem Warrior. Totem is just a hunch but what I believe she’ll more than likely be, and she has to have at least 5 levels to take two attacks, so we know that’s the minimum barbarian level she can have.

Prism will end up carrying the party through an encounter later, pure Wizard queen shit, that’s all I got.

Orym is finally breaking down and I hate that but at the same time he needs feel his emotions, trying to stay strong just isn’t helping at this point and he needs to just let himself finally cry, or flip the fuck out, or something.

Ashton and Laudna will feel bad when they find out what was happening while they were off trying to destroy a power source during the solstice and ending up being no help. This will only further their depression, compartmentalization, and self-worth issues as a result. One will have to be the rock for the other but neither of them are going to be emotionally available enough to do so (Ashton is trying, but he very clearly has his own shit going on that, like Orym, he’s just trying to stay strong through.)

[haledamage]

One of the kiss in the rain prompts, your choice, with Nadia/Kurt :3

a hopeful kiss in the rain a playful, happy kiss in the rain

I couldn’t pick which one I liked best, so I decided to use a couple of them! they deserve it :3 special guest appearances by Síora and Sieglinde and their exasperated support of their best friends. I’m very proud of them for not locking anyone in any closets to get them to finally admit their feelings (it was a close call)

Nadia/Kurt and how I think their romance confession actually went. Because I know my girl and there’s no way she waited until That One Romance Scene to smooch her man for the first time. ~3200 words, takes place right after Kurt's third companion quest, so spoilers for that and the conversations after it

---

Kurt kept a keen eye on Nadia as she weaved through the crowd of the Coin Tavern in San Matheus. Though tonight’s lot was perhaps more trustworthy than most, and filled with far more folks than usual who would jump to her rescue in a moment’s notice, it was still his duty to keep her safe, and that’s what he intended to do. He knew better than to let his guard down, even among friends. Especially among friends, if the last month was any indication.

And if, perhaps, he watched her with more than just her safety in mind, eyes lingering on the curve of her lips as she smiled or on the elegant movements of her hands as she spoke, well. Certainly no one in this crowd would fault him for it.

“So that’s her, then,” Sieglinde stated, drawing his attention temporarily away from Nadia to where she sat next to him. The two of them had wedged themselves in a shadowed corner with their backs to the wall, where they could see the entire tavern. Old habits. “The girl you were always talking about, your protege at the palace. Pity it took something like this for me to finally meet her.”

“Aye, that’s her.” Kurt sighed and reached for his mug, though he didn’t raise it to take a drink. “Seems like dangerous business being my ‘protege’ these days.”

“Looks to me like she’s weathered it just fine,” she teased. “Don’t think she minds a bit of danger.”

That just made his frown deepen. “Just because she can face it doesn’t mean she should have to.” Into his drink, he muttered, “Especially not on my account.”

“Come now, Kurt. She’s older than you were when you met her,” Sieglinde pointed out. There was a softness to her voice that told him she wanted to say more about everything he’d endured by the time he was Nadia’s age, but thankfully she let the words linger without voicing them. “Wiser too, I’d wager, and much more charming.” 

He gave Sieglinde a sharp look, though he didn’t deny it. It only earned him a playful smile in return. “More patient, too,” he eventually added. He couldn’t keep the fondness out of his voice, and unconsciously his gaze drifted back across the room to Nadia.

She was leaning over a table full of Nauts and former Ghost Company recruits, her eyes shining and face bright with laughter. Her tablemates stared up at her with nearly identical dazed, starry-eyed expressions. They weren’t the first to be enchanted by the force of nature that was Nadia de Sardet, and wouldn’t be the last.

“She would have to be.” Sieglinde watched Kurt watch Nadia, and saw those same stars in his eyes. “Does she know?”

“Know what?” The answer was almost automatic, the reflexive habit to hide his desires, to push aside his own feelings so they wouldn’t get in anyone else’s way. A habit Síora had been trying to break him of for months now, and Nadia had been trying to find a way to counter for far longer than that.

Sieglinde smacked him on the arm, hard enough to feel it even through the padding of his armor. “Don’t play dumb, Kurt. You can fool your nobles, but you can’t fool me. I know you too well.”

He sighed, pulled off his hat so he could drag a hand through his hair. “It doesn’t matter,” he said eventually, quiet enough that he could barely be heard over the din of the tavern crowd. “She deserves better than some bitter old mercenary like me.”

“Perhaps she does.” He appreciated that she didn’t try to offer any platitudes or pretend he was anything other than what he was. She had never been one to dance around the truth. “But even a blind man could see the way you look at her. And the way she looks at you.”

As if she could sense that they were talking about her, Nadia glanced in their direction, her eyes locking on Kurt’s with deadly precision.

She smiled at him like they were the only people in the room, sweet and warm and much too intimate for this place. It made him want to whisk her away from here and take her somewhere he could keep that smile all to himself.

It took longer than he liked to push that feeling away.

“Seems to me ‘bitter old mercenary’ is exactly what she wants,” Sieglinde murmured, going in for the kill while his guard was down.

Then someone came by and forced Nadia’s attention back to her table, and the moment was lost.

When she finally looked away, Kurt let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “It doesn’t matter,” he said again.

Sieglinde chuckled to herself, the sound somehow both fond and derisive. “You’re a stubborn fool, Kurt.” 

There was no bite in her words, but it still made Kurt feel strangely defensive, and he rounded on her like he expected her to draw her sword on him. “What would you have me do, then?” he snapped, both louder and sharper than he intended. “Court her? Ask her to risk everything for me? Or should I beg her uncle for permission to--”

“You think that girl cares one bit what her uncle thinks about anything she does?” Sieglinde hissed. “The only man whose opinion has ever mattered to her is you. Stop pretending you can’t see that.”

Kurt scoffed darkly and reached for his drink rather than bothering to reply. Doing so would mean admitting that she was right, and he refused to give her the satisfaction.

In the lull in conversation, his attention wandered once again, compulsively, inevitably, back to Nadia.

It wasn’t that he was afraid that she didn’t feel the same for him as he did for her. If anything, he was afraid that she did. 

He had known for a long time that she was attracted to him. She had been since she was a child, and had never been shy or subtle about it. The compliments, the cheek kisses, the fond yet teasing way she always said his name--those weren't new developments.

But they had changed since coming to Teer Fradee. Everything had. Or maybe it hadn’t; maybe the only thing that had changed was him. Maybe all the island had done was help him realize that Nadia was no longer a little girl with a crush, but a grown woman who knew exactly what kind of man he was and still smiled at him like he was the sunrise.

“Tell her how you feel, Kurt.” He had almost forgotten Sieglinde was still there, but thankfully managed not to startle when her voice interrupted his long-overdue epiphany. “If not tonight, then soon. You’ll regret it for the rest of your life if you don’t.”

“I know.” The words hurt to say, and his voice came out rough and raspy even by his usual standards.

She was kind enough to ignore it beyond a companionable pat on his shoulder. “Leave your doubts in the ashes with Hermann where they belong, and stop letting ghosts hold you back.”

The shoulder pat became a firm grip as she used him to leverage herself out of her seat. “I’ll get the next round. I hope you’re not here when I get back.”

Kurt lifted what remained of his ale as Sieglinde melted into the crowd, draining the mug in one swig. He slammed it to the table, then forced himself to his feet and went to find Nadia before he could talk himself out of it.

---

Nadia could feel the weight of Kurt’s eyes on her all afternoon as she drifted through the tavern talking to friends both new and old. It took constant effort to keep herself from seeking him out over the crowd, and even then she had only succeeded half the time. She had resorted to finding a chair facing the opposite direction, to remove the temptation entirely.

Síora had yet to decide if she found the whole situation amusing or exasperating. At the moment, she leaned more towards the latter. “Will you catch fire if you look at him, carants?” she asked dryly. “Is that why you act this way?”

Nadia forced herself to stop looking over her shoulder, giving her friend a sheepish grin. “Am I that obvious?”

“You are as subtle as a charging andríg. And yet he still pretends he does not see it.” Síora rolled her eyes, but her expression softened quickly into a playful smile. “You are more patient than I am, Nadi. I would have tired of his hesitating long ago.”

“That doesn’t surprise me.” She had to resist the urge to defend Kurt, to point out all the perfectly valid reasons he had for holding back. Instead, she leaned forward conspiratorially, resting her elbows on the table between them. “What would you have me do, then? Flavia suggests I should just show up naked at his door one day.”

“Knowing Kurt, he would simply offer to loan you a shirt.” Síora laughed, and Nadia joined her. They both knew he wasn’t dense enough to actually misread a situation like that, but Kurt had a habit of being intentionally obtuse where Nadia was concerned.

Síora leaned back in her chair, balancing precariously on its back legs, giving her friend a shrewd look. “You should tell him the truth. As plainly as possible, so he cannot hide from it. Whatever happens next is his choice.”

“Maybe,” Nadia responded vaguely. She gave in to the urge to glance in the direction of Kurt’s table, only to find it empty.

Síora’s chair returned to solid ground with a loud clack of wood on wood. “What are you waiting for? A sign from the spirits? Arrows drawn in the sand, encouragement written in the clouds?”

“That would be nice. Is that really so much to ask?”

Síora’s attention shifted to something in the crowd behind Nadia. “It would appear not.”

Before she could ask for clarification on that cryptic statement, a hand landed gently on Nadia’s shoulder. She had a feeling she knew who it belonged to even before she looked up into familiar gray eyes.

“Could I trouble you for a moment?” Kurt asked as soon as he had her attention, the question leaving him in a rush. “There’s… something I’d like to talk to you about.”

“Of course.” Nadia caught Siora’s eye as she stood from her seat; the other woman looked positively smug. She valiantly ignored it, smiling at Kurt instead. “I think we could both use a little fresh air. Why don’t we take a walk?”

---

Outside, it was cool and quiet, the bustling city feeling almost serene after the hectic tavern. The day was verging on dusk, oranges and reds starting to paint the edges of the heavy clouds that hung overhead. A light rain fell, just enough to make its presence known, but there was much more to come, if those clouds were any indication.

Kurt jumped when Nadia took his arm. Not dramatically, barely more than a twitch really, but enough for her to notice. She gave his bicep what she hoped was a comforting squeeze as he led her away from the tavern.

They strolled at a leisurely pace, in no hurry to get anywhere and with no destination in mind. Kurt watched the road, as if the cobblestones under their boots held a particular fascination for him; Nadia watched him from the corner of her eye, trying to judge his mood from what she could see of his profile.

“Is something the matter?” she asked, when it became clear that he wasn’t going to speak first. “You seem… distracted.”

He laughed quietly, but there was no humor in it. “I suppose you could say that.” He finally lifted his gaze from the ground to meet her eyes, but only for a moment before his attention returned to the street. “It’s nothing you need to worry yourself over, Green Blood. Recent events have just dredged up a lot of history. History that was better off staying buried.”

Nadia no longer bothered to hide the way she watched him. “I’m not going to force you to talk about it, but if you want to, I’ll listen.” She slid her hand down his arm to lace their fingers together instead. “I’m here for you. Whatever you need.”

She was surprised when Kurt started speaking, but her surprise quickly gave away to anger when she heard what he was saying. In a measured voice that did little to cover how painful the subject was for him, he told her about his life before they met. About Hermann and his ‘elite training’. About the conditioning, the torture, the abuse. About even worse atrocities that made the words catch in his throat, refusing to be given voice.

Some of it she already suspected; the rest answered a lot of questions that still lingered from the years Kurt had been her master of arms. The careful, respectful distance he kept her at when she was a child, never touching her in any way unless necessary and asking permission first when he had no other choice; the way he never raised his voice, no matter what trouble she and Constantin caused; the care he took not to injure them during training; the routine check-ins about her well-being, and that her teachers and peers weren't mistreating her; all of it suddenly, horrifically, made sense.

It turned out that burning at the stake was too kind of a fate for Hermann after all. Nadia wished she could go back in time to do it differently. She'd have dragged the bastard all the way to Tír Fradí’s volcano and personally fed him directly to en on míl frichtimen.

“Kurt…” she started, but words failed her. ‘I’m sorry’ felt trite, ‘thank you for telling me’ too unsympathetic.

He smiled at her like he heard everything she didn’t say. “You don’t need to worry about me, Green Blood,” he told her again. “It was a long time ago. He went up in flames, and my memories with him.”

That wasn’t true, and they both knew it, but Nadia let Kurt keep his lie.

Before he could change the subject entirely, though, she closed the gap between them so she could wrap her arms around him, hugging him as tight as she was able. She half expected him to pull away, but he returned the hug without hesitation.

“I know how hard it was to talk about this,” she murmured, her voice muffled slightly by his thickly padded armor. “Thank you for trusting me with it.”

“It means a lot that you’ve been with me through all of this, Nadia. I won’t forget it.” There was more emotion in his voice in those two sentences than there had been while telling her about everything he’d endured.

She shook her head, nuzzling her face deeper into his shoulder in the process. “Kurt, I care about you. I never would have made you face this alone.”

Kurt went suddenly and completely still, and it took longer than Nadia would’ve liked for it to dawn on her why.

“Would you…” he cleared his throat before continuing with less of a tremor in his voice, “can you repeat that for me?”

Oh saints and spirits, this wasn’t how she wanted to do this, but there was no way she would take it back, not ever. If her time on Tír Fradí had taught her anything, it was that one had to take their moments when they come.

She released him and leaned back enough so she could see his face. He watched her with a mix of trepidation and hope. “Kurt. My dearest Kurt…” she touched his face, tracing her fingertips over the arch of his cheek, the sharp edge of his jaw, the scar on his chin, “I care about you. So much.”

She wasn’t sure which of them was more surprised when he kissed her.

It was just a brush of lips, barely more than mingling breath, and over almost as soon as it began. Nadia barely had enough time to feel disappointed about the brevity of it before Kurt kissed her a second time, soft but no longer hesitant, sweet and warm as a summer morning.

His breath left him in a quick, astonished laugh when they eventually parted. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he confessed, barely above a whisper, studying her face like he’d never seen her before. “Forgive me my foolishness for making you wait.”

The rain started to fall around them in earnest, cold and dismal, but Nadia paid it no mind. Nothing short of divine intervention could have pulled her away from him. “You are worth waiting for, Kurt.”

Kurt lit up with a smile she’d never seen from him before, genuine and joyful. “As gracious as she is beautiful…” he cradled her face between both hands, his thumbs gently caressing her cheeks, “what have I done to deserve such a gift?”

“I can make you a list, if you’d like. Would you prefer it chronologically or alphabetically?”

His laughter was the loveliest thing she’d ever heard. She couldn’t resist kissing him again, to see if it tasted as sweet as it sounded.

They were well and truly soaked by the time they parted again, and Kurt, ever the responsible one, frowned at the icy water that dripped from the brim of Nadia’s hat. The chill had started to seep into her bones, and it was only due to Kurt’s warmth and her own sheer force of will that she wasn’t shivering yet.

“We should get out of the rain. Wouldn’t want you catching cold.”

An innocuous statement; an obvious one, even. But one that raised an interesting question: “Back to the tavern? Or the house?”

If they went back to the tavern, they could rejoin their friends and pretend nothing had changed. It would be the more proper thing to do, to return to their chaperones and allow their courtship to follow a conventional pace. Going home meant having the rest of the night to themselves… to whatever end they chose.

“I think I’ve had my fill of crowds for the day. I want you to myself a little longer.” There was a promise in his voice that made her breath catch, followed by a surprising bashfulness as he dropped his gaze, the growing puddles on the ground around them suddenly fascinating. “If that is what you want, of course… I don’t mean to presume…”

“Yes,” she said quickly, before Kurt could find a way to talk himself out of this. “I want that too.”

He relaxed, tension draining from his shoulders, replaced with a tentative, but hopeful, version of the smile from before. “You don’t know how happy it makes me to hear you say that.”

The storm picked up even more, stalling any further conversation. Nadia grabbed his hand as she took off down the street, practically running down the rapidly emptying alleys for the short distance to their home.

She pulled him back into her arms as soon as they crossed the threshold, her lips finding his again even before the door was latched. There was no telling how long it would be before they next had to brave the storm; she wanted to make the most of whatever time they had now.

[wavernot4love]

i've definitely said something like this before but holy crap dude, ls dunes have quite literally changed the trajectory of my life, and every time i see them, it feels like they've done the same for so many people there. i just want to, post-thursday's toronto show, talk a little about how special this band is (this is probably gonna get long).

i've come to care about this band so goddamn much in, well, definitely the 11 months since they first announced themselves, but even moreso the 8 months since past lives dropped & i saw them for the first time @ dunesday toronto '22.

for a little recap of my dunes origin story, as a 22 y/o i grew up in the mid 2010s scene, right? so most of the bands i knew n loved growing up were those & i had never truly done a deep dive into a lot of 2000s/even early 2010s stuff. of course, the biggest, most accessible bands that started during that time were an exception, people like fob, or ptv, or, well, mcr. and a lot of other bands' biggest songs, etc.

so one part of my thought process the day dunes got announced was "woah new frank band? cool, let's see who's in it!" and that's what made me click into the first article i saw.

and the other part: like i kinda alluded to, i'm very active in the scene, i love going to shows & getting involved and i am truly trying to make it my life even moreso (via live music photograohy n design stuff, and hopefully eventually music stuff?). point is, late last july i signed up to volunteer @ a scene fest kinda in my area, my home here in upstate ny, at the time i hadn't been to many shows alone before so i was kinda nervous about heading two hours away by myself, on top of not really knowing what i was gonna be doing volunteerwise, but something pushed me to decide to go through w it. and this thing had the most random (/pos) assortment of the scene. from big metalcore outfits to modern faces of emo/pop punk/post hardcore to localish hardcore, you get the idea. i had a blast & got to watch a ton of sets.

anyways, near the end of the day some dude i'd definitely heard of by name and was aware was some big dude in the scene from some band (my phone was dead so it was killing me i couldn't look that up hhhh), was about to play a solo set so i figured i'd drop by and catch a bit. i was hanging outside of that stage and suddenly bro started playing and i thought "damn, this dude seems cool" then, naturally, weaved my way into the crowd, watched his full hourish long set since he was the last on that stage, and thought, "damn, this dude is cool." besides his music, i remember admiring the way he talked w the crowd, and then after, the way he stood around and chatted extensively with every last person like they were an old friend (i just kinda stood off to the side in my "staff" shirt watching and probably smiling, figuring i'd let dude's genuine fans have their moment... little did i know). anyways, naturally i'm talking about anthony here, and that night when i got home i looked him up and saw he was from circa & saosin and had a Revelation since of course being in the scene i knew about those bands, and i basically vowed to get into bro's music. and, well, safe to say i found a way less than a month later when i opened that article and saw he was singing in a new band with the guitarist of one of the bands that's meant the most to me for the longest (spoiler: i lost my mind when i saw he was the singer in a "YES! this dude" kinda way).

anyways, since then i'd argue my love for mcr somehow grew (i like to think that's because a lot of my love for music relies on connection & community, more on that later), i (specifically surrounding seeing them @ adjacent) have been getting into thursday & coheed, and, of course, last december i got hugely into tsoaf n traveled 2 see them in january, come february i discovered saosin, & thanks to a rec from a kind person outside the dunes show the other night, i'm now becoming irreversibly attached to circa as well. these people's music has changed my goddamn life, and it's all bands i'd never really looked into before despite of course being aware of them. and that is special.

also, at no other show (and shows in general are my favorite place in the world) have i experienced quite the level of community (random but something i've specifically noticed @ dunes & tsoaf & anthony's solo shows is that circa fans are SO nice?) i do at dunes shows. i've been alone every time i've seen them, but never felt less lonely. the show quite literally ended and i immediately had multiple people yelling (/pos) things at me about my midtown shirt, coming up to talk to me in general, and hell, even I had absolutely no problem going up to people with total confidence to chat, something i usually shake in my boots over. we had a freakin campfire style singalong going. i got to talk to people about traveling for shows who do the same with their time, hell, this was the first time i ever got to ramble in person about my love for tsoaf to someone that actually knew what the hell i was talking about. i spoke to people from all over, both physically and from different parts of the scene and yet we had all ended up right here. stuff feels like the embodiment of the dunes whole "lost souls found" thing, dude.

ls dunes gave me the opportunity twice now to chat with somebody (frank) whose music has been with me for the entire going on ten years since i got into the scene. something that wouldn't really (understandably) be possible at an mcr show. and we've reached the point as of thursday's show that i don't feel nervous going up to him anymore either, we entirely just had a pretty long, chill conversation and goofed off a little and i will never take that for granted. i mean that in a "historically interactions with folks in bands i look up to in this scene have meant the world to me because, like i mentioned earlier, my love for music stems from a community "scene" based idea that we're all just people passionate about this stuff" way.

and of course, the shows themselves, but i'm not sure i can accurately describe those, it's something you need to experience for yourself. i have considered toronto1 my favorite show i've been to ever since it happened, and i have been going to shows since 2014. these dudes have chemistry like no other, and you just get the sense watching them that they were born to do this together. and don't get me started on anthony's crowd interaction stuff. he has become one of my favorite frontpeople (if not my genuine favorite) over this past year. no one does it like that dude does.

anyways, i don't know that i've ever felt quite this way about any band before, which seems crazy for me becayse i care deeply about so many bands. ls dunes is special. all i know is i legitimately have not stopped thinking about the dunes since the toronto show thursday, to the point of being kinda perpetually shaky & endlessly needing to remind myself it's okay, they're not going away yet, i still have one more show in pittsburgh this thursday. i truly hope i can talk to the other dudes (especially anthony since i feel like so much of this lore involves him) and tell them some of this then, and maybe meet some of you, too (i'll definitely be getting there early & also sticking around after)!

and no matter what, i can't wait for this show, and all the shows to come, man. so there's the complete wavernot4love recap, well, so far.

[awritingcaitlin]

Caitlin's Writing Snippet Roundup 2022

Caitlin, what did you spend Christmas Eve doing? Surely it wasn't several hours creating a bunch of snippet canva slides and then putting them into one master image for the purposes of doing a 2022 "art" roundup but make it writing?

(Yes, audience, that is exactly what she did.)

So basically, I tracked down a scene I wrote each month in 2022 and pulled a short snippet from each. Since I know that's not easy to read, I'll be posting individual images in the thread! I've written a lot this year and am really proud.

This is from CureWIP back in January.

This is from CureWIP in February! Finally these two admit it.

CureWIP in March. Let me tell you, finding a snippet from this late in the WIP got difficult. So once again, I am using these lines because I am *completely normal* about them.

From ViolinHeist in April!

ViolinHeist in May. A little nod to my own allergy to adhesive.

ViolinHeist in June! (Writing the heist!) (Okay, heist 1)

Also not Lelia multitasking like a bamf.

ViolinHeist in July! This one was rough to not get a spoilery section, so have this wonderful exchange about KnifeWife Riela.

Spoilers, she has more than three.

From SiegeWIP in August! Siege was a rewrite so I was hunting for either a new scene, or a massively overhauled one, which is what this one is.

From SiegeWIP in September! All of my new scenes written in September are also massively spoilery, so I grabbed this one instead.

From SiegeWIP in October. This was an old scene that got cut, then reworked and put back in!

From ViolinHeist Draft 2 in November. This was a reworked scene, with more details added!

And lastly, ViolinHeist Draft 2 in December. This is a new scene!

Unfortunately, I do not have a template or anything. This was me bullying Canva, taking screenshots, throwing it into PowerPoint because of the grid-system (I'm on my tablet with no art programs), and then taking more screenshots. But if you'd like to do this too, go for it!

Longer snippets under the cut:

JANUARY

“So let me get this straight,” Private First-Class Tim O’Brian, the assistant, asked Riela. “You come immediately to the kitchen after coming out of the safe room, clear up the dead bodies, and throw on three pots of food.”

“Yep,” Riela replied.

Rinnie opened one eye. Riela was currently hovering over some pan that smelled like garlic. Rinnie might have some of that too if it finished fast enough.

“And you have no military training?” Tim pressed.

“Look,” Riela said, brandishing a wooden stirring spoon in his general direction. “Where I come from, there’s not a lot of mages, especially not theramancers. But it didn’t take me very long to put together that something as simple as a bowl of rice was the difference between a man bleeding out and walking five minutes later.”

“Theramancers aren’t that good,” Tim argued.

“She is,” Riela said, pointing the spoon in Rinnie’s direction.

Rinnie felt her face flush. She put another bite of pasta in her mouth and pretended, with absolute futility, that she hadn’t heard.

FEBRUARY

“Oh fuck you bitch,” Taryn said.

Rinnie paused, actually taken aback.

“I’m covering your ass,” Taryn continued. “My orders had no expiration date and so far, I haven’t gotten new ones. So as far as I’m concerned, I’m still your bodyguard. I have just as much right to be there as Kanjo does.”

Rinnie swallowed. She had no grounds to tell Taryn not to do something stupid when she was literally in the same position.

“As afraid as I am that something is going to backfire on us spectacularly on this one,” Rinnie said. “I’m glad you’re going to have my back.”

Taryn smirked. “Why the sudden change of heart?”

Rinnie felt blood rise to her cheeks and she was glad the relative darkness of the courtyard with only the truck’s headlamps providing light. “You know, no one’s ever told me ‘fuck you’ in such an affectionately derogatory way before.”

“Don’t tell me you’re getting feelings over that?” Taryn teased.

“Taryn, I think it’s time we both admitted that there’s feelings involved.”

MARCH

Kanjo knew that Killian could not have known exactly what he was doing when he told Rin to go after the Queen. Killian could not have known that this was the kind of shit you had to do to keep an oracle out of trouble. Self-inflicted or otherwise.

Maybe he did know.

Maybe he had known that Rin would follow those orders to a fault.

Kanjo didn’t know jack shit about what was afflicting the Schmiedish monarch, but he did know how to handle a tired and weak mage with a migraine. He looked to one side to ensure Taryn had Rin, since she’d frozen for half a second. Telepathic migraine backlash most likely.

“Keep an eye out for the battlemage,” he told them.

Rin looked like she’d collected herself again. Good.

They got to the table and hunkered down underneath. Rin grabbed the Queen’s hands and was probably doing something with theramancy. She’d done that with Ilani when she was a child.

Suddenly, a roaring wind whipped through the room. Kanjo looked out to see the battlemage in the center of the spell. He forced the wind through one of the windows, breaking it. The smoke began to thin. Reflexively, Kanjo put a shield around the five of them.

APRIL

Em couldn’t keep quiet any longer.

“Wait, so you’re suggesting he steals a violin out of a museum?” she flat-out asked, her words leaving her mouth a surprised hiss.

It seemed the absolute irony that she’d spent the better part of the afternoon convincing herself not to just go steal another violin and here were two guys talking about it like it was a standard trade agreement.

Which, technically, many heists were just that.

The gentleman turned to her, seemingly unsurprised at her interruption. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about thieving, would you?” he asked.

“And if I do?” Em asked, choosing her words very carefully.

“Perhaps you could help.”

MAY

“It will need pressure right here,” Lelia said, pointing to the separation. “If there’s not enough for it to affix properly, it will start pulling apart.”

“I can make that happen,” Verity said confidently.

“Well, it’ll save me from getting epoxy all over my fingertips,” Lelia said. “And I probably shouldn’t do that because I’m allergic to it.”

At this, there was a rustle of papers and Lelia looked up at Em, who was, in turn, looking at Lelia over a set of schematics.

“You’re allergic to the epoxy that you’re using to jury-rig my violin back together?”

“Only if it touches my skin,” Lelia said casually. “Not that big of a deal.”

“Oh my gods just let Verity do the thing with the telekinesis,” Em said.

“That’s what we’re doing,” Lelia assured her.

JUNE

Ronan stood guard, but Em could tell much of his attention was on the Fiddle in the case.

“Focus on keeping an eye out,” she hissed.

“I’ve got a ward over all exits,” Lelia said. “I’ll know if anyone crosses them before any of us can see anything.”

“Why wasn’t that mentioned as part of the plan?” Vinny asked.

“I just thought of it,” Lelia said.

“How many spells are you running?” Ronan asked.

“A few.”

Em frowned.

JULY

“Riela, how many knives do you have?”

“Three,” Riela said, nonchalantly.

She was wearing one of her usual skirts, which Em supposed she had at least two hidden in. Her sleeves were loose which could conceal another. Or perhaps she had one tucked into her bodice. She almost wondered if she should suggest that Riela change into pants. All the other girls were wearing pants. But Em had also not seen Riela wear anything else and it was clear she could move around in them easily enough.

Mama Cass gave Riela an approving nod.

AUGUST

“I am ordering you to stand down, Colour Sergeant,” Risingblock said. “You are to report back to medical and remain there until you are fit for duty.”

Risingblock was trying desperately to control a situation. Kanjo wasn’t playing by the rules.

“With no due respect, sir, kiss my ass.” Kanjo replied. “I’m going to find Rin.”

“Pardon?”

“You heard me. Respectfully, your excellency, Sir, fuck off. I’m going to find Rin.”

Before Risingblock could argue again, Kanjo left the room. He needed to find that Sergeant.

“That sounded like it went swimmingly,” Kiyo said, standing as he walked back into the lobby.

He rolled his eyes.

SEPTEMBER

Rinnie nodded then yawned loudly.

“When was the last time you slept?” he asked, knowing the answer.

“When was the last time you slept?” she countered. “I’ve had some of Mica’s awake serum.”

“That I think you’re coming down from,” Adler pointed out. “And you’ve been casting left and right since we started this whole escapade. You’re gonna burn yourself out.”

“What do you know about mages?” Rinnie pouted.

“I’ve seen battlemages and theramancers and loads in between,” Adler said. “They are generally the most well-protected people in an entire company.”

Rinnie nodded, slowly.

“You need sleep,” Adler repeated. “You’re crashing.”

“But there’s still…”

Adler wasn’t arguing with her any longer. He looked up, trying to find Skythorn, but the man must’ve gone to relieve himself. Lodgepool stood against the wall, looking more alert than he probably was. Adler went over to Killian.

“Sir, the mage is tired and belligerent.” Adler jerked a thumb at Rinnie.

OCTOBER

Rinnie saw herself in this girl and she was already running to join the fray.

“She’s a theramancer!” Rinnie interjected. “Don’t give her a sedative, a non-narcotic painkiller will do.”

“And who are you?” asked the older of the two doctors.

“The theramancer from South Town,” Rinnie said dismissively. She turned her attention to the girl. “Have you fixed things before?”

The girl nodded and her face scrunched up in pain.

Rinnie took a second to see exactly how much power the girl had. The answer was a lot. She was still young enough for her power to feel raw and largely uncontrolled. However, if she’d practiced healing before, her body would start healing itself before the bone was set.

“We’re going to help you set your bone, okay?” Rinnie told her. “We’ll get you some painkillers and if you want, I’ll let you help.” The other two doctors spluttered. Rinnie ignored them.

NOVEMBER

Something had gotten fucked up. One of her spells must have failed. She’d pulled a loop too early. Or her redirection of the wards on the case hadn’t been good enough.

Knowing full well she was not going to be able to move down the stairs at any acceptable speed, she slid back out of the violin case.

“Go,” she said, handing it to Em. “Get back to the car and don’t wait for me. I’ll find my own way back.”

“Are you sure?” Em said. “What about the crystals?”

Lelia grimaced. She should have left the ones by the stairs until they’d been sure. “We don’t have another option,” she said. She’d fucked that one up at the very least. “I’ll try to get suspicion off of you if I need to.”

Her mind raced, still trying to figure out where she’d messed up in the exhibit. She was better than this!

Em didn’t argue further. She took the violin case from Lelia and slid into it.

DECEMBER

“So what is it you do?” Em asked.

Izzy’s eyes brightened.

“Oh no, you don’t want to get her started on that,” Lelia said.

“I’m sure it’s interesting!” Em insisted. “Like listening to you talk about emergency procedures for power generators.”

Lelia glared at her, but that was all the ammunition Izzy needed to launch into what she was studying in school.

Somewhere in between genetics and mage birth rates, Lelia realized that getting Izzy to talk about herself meant she wasn’t asking questions to Lelia and Em. Which had been Em’s plan all along.

[fortheloveofeddiemunson]

Breaking the Rules

Eddie runs towards his death to try and save you. You aren’t about to let that happen

tags: eddie x reader, gn!reader, volume 2 spoilers, everybody lives/nobody dies, reader has powers, first kiss

a/n: this is one of MANY fix-it’s i have plotted because the ending of volume 2 was garbage. is it a little implausible and out-there? yes. but eddie lives and i think we can all agree that’s what’s important here

also i might write a sequel to this at some point, either the story from eddie’s pov or what happens when the reader meets hopper again

———

You were number Five, and when you were eleven years old, you ran away from home.

You didn’t do it alone – an orderly helped you, leading you to a drainage pipe in the back of a boiler room. You crawled through, leaving him behind, an odd (and maybe angry) look on his face. When you broke through to freedom on the other side – the first fresh air you’d ever breathed, the first time you’d felt the sun on your skin – you ran as far and as fast as you could.

When you were finally found, after what you’d later come to believe were weeks spent living wild in the woods, it was by a grumpy police officer. He took one look at you, at the tattered and dirt-stained hospital gown you wore, the number tattooed on your wrist, and took you in. You weren’t able to live a normal life, but it was still a good one. Hopper bought textbooks, and taught you how to read and write. He helped you learn math, and he helped you create tricks to control your powers. By the time you were sixteen, you had enough control to go out in public without worrying that you would accidentally reveal your powers. On top of that, your hair had grown out enough that when you wore a watch nothing could visibly give you away as an experiment. There were only two rules your father had for you – be safe, and under no circumstances use your powers.

Of course, right as you thought you were safe, one of your siblings broke out of the lab. With the hunt for Eleven in full swing, it wasn’t safe for you to go into town, and so you were relegated to house arrest again. It was different this time, though – instead of you having to entertain yourself all day while Hopper was at work, you had a little sister to keep you company. El was definitely in a worse state than you were when you ran; she could barely speak in full sentences, which confused you to no end because you remembered her being able to talk fluently. But whatever had caused her to regress like this, it was blocked from her memory and you decided not to push it for now.

Instead, you devoted yourself to teaching her, reading and writing and math, trying to get her caught up with where a girl her age should be. You also worked with her on her powers – she wasn’t as strong as you, but she was stronger than most of the other children you’d grown up with. She just needed help refining her skills, learning to focus on details rather than just the big picture.

A year passed, and then El ran off. She closed a gate to another world, and Hawkins Lab was shut down once and for all. A doctor who worked there, Dr. Owens, crafted new identities for you and your sister as Hopper’s children, and just like that you were free.

The official story that the town was being told was that you were the children of Hopper’s estranged sister, adopted by him after your parents passed away. El was described as shy, allowing her to continue hiding for the next few months as recommended by Dr. Owens. You, on the other hand, were allowed to do as you pleased, and you barely had to think about it before you were convincing Hopper to sign you up for school next year. You were a year older than all of the other seniors would be, but you wanted the experience more than anything. You wanted to prove to yourself that you could live a normal life. Hopper encouraged you, but with one stipulation: don’t let anyone know about your powers. It was the one rule he’d drilled into your head daily after it became clear that you were going to get your own identity. You promised him that you would never break the rule, and El also promised never to mention your powers. The end result was that the Party thought you were actually related to Hopper, and that your arrival made for a convenient cover for El.

Unfortunately, Hopper passed away before you could truly start school. It broke you, to lose him. He was the first real family you had, and you didn’t know what you were going to do without him. Joyce offered to take you to California with El and the others, but since you were a year older than Jonathan you were technically a legal adult. You opted to stay in Hawkins, living with Steve who had generously offered you a room in his otherwise empty house. You and El called each other often, and wrote letters every week, and occasionally you exercised your powers to speak to each other in your minds. She was the only one left who knew of your powers, although you were pretty sure Owens suspected.

Without your father’s reassuring presence, and with your sister so far away, entering your first year of real school was nerve-wracking. Robin tried to be there for you, but the band was a very insular community and didn’t exactly welcome you. Nancy also did her best, but she was so busy all the time that it was hard. You ended up spending a lot of your time with Mike and Lucas and Dustin, which was fine. You liked the kids, but you were also quite a few years older than them and sometimes you missed eating lunch with people who weren’t children.

Enter Eddie Munson.

When he took the younger boys under his wing, you trailed along behind them. The rest of his group was hesitant to let you in at first, especially when you admitted that you’d never played a game of D&D, but Eddie was warm and friendly, and eventually everyone else came to accept you.

Eddie was like a breath of fresh air; you loved all your friends, the little family that you all made, but none of them were able to make you laugh as easily as Eddie could. Hopper had always worked with you on that, on not being afraid to express your emotions, but it was hard sometimes, to remember that you could be human. Eddie was able to draw a laugh from you like no one else; he was able to scare you, and sadden you, and amaze you. You were fascinated with him, constantly drawn to know more.

You weren’t sure if he was aware how much you cared about him, but he certainly seemed to reciprocate some of your affection. Sitting with him at lunch, turned into him moving seats to sit next to you in your shared classes, turned into a standing invitation to come watch Hellfire play, turned into spending the weekend at his trailer studying and watching him get high and introducing each other to music that neither of you would have ever listened to otherwise. By the time spring break rolled around, he was your best friend, and you thought that he considered you his in turn.

When Dustin called you, frantically looking for Eddie, you rushed to Family Video to help with the search. When you found him at the boathouse, you pulled him into a hug, an uncharacteristic display of physical affection from you. That, more than anything, seemed to impress on him how serious you all were when Dustin began to explain the Upside Down.

You tried to stay with him, so he wouldn’t be alone, but he refused to let you, pushing you out the door. “Babe,” he said, a genuine, if shaky, smile on his face. “Go help them do research and shit. I’ll be fine here, okay? No one is going to find me as long as I’m careful.”

Of course, someone did find him, and then there was a third body and suddenly his name was all over the news as a murder suspect.

From there, everything fell apart. You were elected to stay on babysitting duty while everyone , meaning you were stuck in your world while your friends fought their way through the Upside Down. Luckily, the cops bought your story that you were just with the kids to keep them safe, and that you had no idea what they were up to; it helped that they truly believed you were related to Hopper, and felt sympathy for you because of that.

Eddie fell out of the Upside Down, only for Nancy to immediately begin planning for everyone to go back in. You were nervous about it, worried that Vecna would sense you when he so far seemed unaware of your existence. But Nancy had also told you about this man being 001, being an orderly from the Lab, and you were smart enough to put two and two together. He’d failed with you, and so he tried again with El. It was partly because of you that he was here, and so you had to do your bit to stop him.

You were put on the decoy team, acting as an extra fighter in the event that the bats manage to break through the boarded up windows and doors. Looking back, much later on after everything was done, you’d know that even back then you were aware something would go wrong. You just didn’t know how wrong.

The bats came, and they got into the trailer, and you sent Dustin scrambling up the bed sheet rope back to the real world. You followed close behind him, falling to the mattress and turning back to look up at Eddie. “Come on!” you yelled, holding out your hand. “Eddie, hurry!”

For what seemed like the longest moment of your life, Eddie stared at the door where the bats were threatening to break through. Then he looked back up at you, sorrow and resolve painted clearly on his face, and even before he cut the sheets, you knew.

He ran out the door, leaving you and Dustin behind as you screamed his name. Abandoning the careful, strategic way of thinking that you had used all your life, you made a decision right there to break both your father’s rules in one fell swoop.

You turned to Dustin. “Stay here. I’ll go after him, but please stay here. I can’t be worrying about both of you.”

He frowned. “How are you going to go after him? We can’t get up there, he cut the sheets!”

“Promise me you’ll stay here!” you snapped, refusing to acknowledge his question. He’d find out the answer soon enough.

Without waiting to hear anything else Dustin had to say, you turned back to the portal. You thrust your hands down by your sides, and then tapped into the powers that had lain mostly dormant for so long. With a firm grasp on your control, you pushed and suddenly you were in the air, floating up through the portal.

You flipped yourself once you came out the other side, falling onto your feet easily. Not bothering to look back at Dustin, who was spluttering and stammering in shock, you took off out of the trailer.

Halfway across the trailer park, Eddie was standing in the middle of a swarm of bats. His shield and spear were raised, but it was clear that any fight he could put up would be pointless, in the end. You ran towards him as fast as you could, not sure what you would do when you reached him, but knowing that you had to.

You were almost there when a bat swooped down, tail wrapping around his neck, and Eddie dropped his weapons as he fell to the ground, wrestling with the tail choking him. More bats held down his arms and legs, and then you saw one dive for his chest.

“No!” You screamed at the top of your lungs, flinging your hands out. Instantly, all of the bats were blasted back, wailing as they were propelled through the air before disintegrating, except for the ones holding him down. Those your power tore to shreds where they were, until all that was left was dust and a red line on Eddie’s throat. The whole thing was over in a flash, occurring so quickly that within a few seconds the only remaining evidence of what had happened was the trickle of blood falling from your nose. You wiped it away with your sleeve, the gesture almost absentminded as all your attention focused on the man in front of you.

Eddie sat up, eyes wide, and turned to look at you. “Babe?”

A sob escaped your throat and you ran forward, closing the remaining distance between the two of you, falling to your knees beside him. “Jesus fucking Christ,” you said as you pulled him into your arms. “What the hell were you thinking? Idiot!”

He hesitantly wrapped his arms around you. “You… Did you do that? Was that you?”

You nodded, head buried in his shoulder. “You were going to die. I couldn’t just not do anything.”

“So you… used superpowers? Have you always had those?”

With a sigh, you pulled away from him, although you didn’t go too far. “I have,” you admitted. “Remember what Steve and Dustin said about Hawkins Lab? I broke out of there when I was a kid.”

“Why didn’t you tell any of us that you had superpowers?” A scowl started to creep over his face. “Did everyone else know and you just didn’t tell me?”

“Only El knows,” you admitted. “Hopper has been taking care of me since I was eleven, and he always told me not to tell anyone. So I didn’t. I didn’t plan to tell anyone ever. It’s… His rules are all I have left of him.”

Eddie heard the pain in your voice and his eyes softened. Gently, he reached out to cup your cheek. “But you saved me.”

Your answering smile felt fragile and brittle on your face. “I couldn’t let you die.”

He didn’t give you any warning before suddenly you were pulled into a searing kiss. There was a hand on your waist, and another snaking from your face to tangle in your hair, and you kissed him back with just as much fire. Your arms locked around his neck as you pressed into him, into his touch and his warmth. In all your wildest dreams you’d never thought that he would like you back, but it was clear from the way he kissed you that he returned your feelings with equal fervor.

It was messy and wet, but both of you were too overwhelmed by the fact that you were both alive and together to care. Others might not have classified it as a good kiss, but as far as you were concerned there could never be a better one.

When the two of you broke apart, you kept your eyes closed and rested your forehead against his. “Hi,” you whispered.

He giggled, and it was the prettiest sound you had ever heard. “Hi.”

The world you were in was still wrong, and your friends were probably still in danger. Dustin was stuck alone on the other side of the portal, probably wondering where you were and if you were okay. You had no idea where your sister was, and your father was dead. But despite all of that, despite the otherworldly ash that fell from the sky, landing gently on your shoulders, you didn’t think that any moment of your life had ever been more perfect.

[nehswritesstuffs]

So, you guys, I really love world-building, so lemme tell ya: I’m really digging the turn the current OP cover arc’s going down, to the point it’s got me about in equal time with the rest of the story, except the rest of the story has more revealed and now I’m just sitting here week to week with a single panel of information at a time and sorry but ch.1070 spoilers under the cut.

so, like, if we go by the current ages listed, plus the fact that Yonji seems too stupid to lie about it, then we can safely infer that Cesar Clown was a teenage prodigy and that’s why Vegapunk babied him all these years, but also why he’s a whiny piece of shit... he just never matured and showed the negative side of that life

speaking of the Clown--his horns are still there. is he half-mink? DID MR. CESAR’S DAD SHAG A GOAT?! we already know there’s fish-shaggers in this world... so...

also they all look like those rifles should be guitars/basses and we should be ready for a rocking good time

MIZ GARTERS, WHO ARE YOU?! there are multiple possibilities and here are my top twelve:

Kureha (which I think would be in line with Oda-sensei’s sense of humor, tbf, to get people pumped about such a girly and cool look and BAM next week is just an extreme close-up of her 116yo mug)

Stussy (if Stussy is actually a bazillion-year-old vampire)

Olvia (low probability, but possible)

Mrs. Luffy’s Mom (WHERE IS SHE?!)

Vinsmoke Sora (if this is how she met Judge I will be so upset)

Portgas D. Rogue (you’d likely need advanced medical knowledge to be able to trick yourself into being pregnant for 20 months straight w/the same baby, so probability’s better than Olvia that’s for sure)

Lilith (or who she’s modeled after lolololol)

a completely new character who conveniently slats into a bunch of plot holes I’m not even thinking of at this current time

Mrs. Law’s Mom (could be weirder)

an elder Charlotte daughter (again, could be weirder)

gonna go out on a limb and say an okama character, previously seen or unseen, or just some dude whose legs look that damn good in heels and stockings, bc the man loves fcking with us like that

crocodile or an unknown-until-now-sister, for all those who believe in such things (i don’t go here but at this point it’s oda-sensei anything’s possible so I’m open to the idea and won’t be mad if it goes there and knowing a sister used to work for the wg would be enough for iva to dangle over croccy let them be petty idc how or why)

God, I still hate Vegapunk’s face

i mean just look at him

i can’t be mad at oda he gave us so much beefy beefcake over the years he deserves some misses i mean look at zoro’s tits the man’s allowed vegapunk looking punchable

i also need to know if lu feld and du feld are indeed the same person just spelled wrong or the same person just bad alias or two separate people such as an evil and eviler twin

how fcking toxic of a work environment was this I need teaaaa

why rifles tho

i know there’s, like, six people in the background but the way my eyes work is that they perceived an extra torso for no reason towards the bottom of the page and I was wondering for half a moment if the perviest Fruit of them all was gonna get another doomed wielder

oh yeah aloha o’e to this arc’s fashion sense vegapunk does at least have that going for him

can queen stop existing plskthnx

judge did some serious beefing up in a small amount of time wtf

or maybe oda-sensei can’t tell time--don’t blame him if that’s the case, honestly

[general-radix]

Writeup: Deus Vocatus

Well, I said I wanted to do writeups on my settings in the near future, and now’s as good a time as any. Do note that this is meant to be just a basic overview, both for “not giving out major spoilers” and for “I probably have ADHD and some things are inevitably going to leak out or only come up afterward” reasons.

--

BASIC SYNPOSIS:

It’s 2472, and Vincent Callahan is eking out a fairly miserable existence in Newport. Though he’s still in contact with his best (and only) friend from college, Enzo Lynwood, and is supported by his android neighbors Thema and Pavo, Vince feels as though he’s just existing, not living--the bouts of dissociation don’t help. It’s been like this ever since he immigrated to Earth from Mars under circumstances that he’s never disclosed to his buddies.

On top of that, he frequently dreams of a young dark-haired man who feels achingly familiar, but whom Vince can never seem to reach before he wakes up. They’re consistent enough that he wonders if he really is missing someone from his life.

He gets his answer one day when, while out on a ride, Vince catches some syndicate-types in the middle of a kidnapping; after taking them down and getting their two victims somewhere safe, Vince realizes that one of them is the very same dark-haired man from his recurring dreams--and the sense of recognition appears to be mutual. Hm.

This man’s name is Dante Spada, and his mute Christian bestie who got caught up in all of this is Angelus; the syndicate assholes were trying to “drag him back”, but that’s the most he wants to say about that. As the two have nowhere else to go, Vince lets them stay with him--and finally experiences something close to happiness for the first time in ages; it certainly doesn’t hurt that Dante falls for him rather quickly. Thema and Pavo are thrilled to see Vince actually smiling for once, Dante and Angelus are good apartment-mates, and Enzo--er, she’s been up to something suspicious lately, right when she and Vince don’t need to be drawing attention to themselves. But she can take care of herself; it’ll get resolved eventually, right?

A month later, everything comes crashing down.

Now effectively homeless, Vince and co. flee Newport, trying to put as much distance between themselves and violently overprotective syndicate leader Casimir Spada, Dante’s older brother. They pick up another long-term passenger in android drifter Jessamine, mostly work things out with Enzo, and get into all sorts of trouble in a journey with no definitive end point beyond “stay alive”. Compounding all this, Vince’s past is creeping up on him...

And then they catch the attention of a freaky metahuman lady who is unwaveringly hostile to everyone bar Enzo.

No matter how many twists that the cruel, uncaring void throws at them, though, Vince is determined to find a way for he and his companions to escape this nightmare alive.

--

MAIN CHARACTERS (at least of the first planned arc):

* Vincent Callahan: the protagonist and narrator. 33 years old, Filipino-Martian, gay, an atheist, and a hacker; even with his renewed desire to live, it’s clear that he holds a lot of pain and sorrow within. He’s a compassionate guy who can’t turn his back on someone in need, but he’s also somewhat unstable and not very wise.

* Dante Spada: android, unwilling syndicate prince. Dante is soft, kind, and sensitive...not to mention an effective tactician whose silk hides some very tough steel. Loves Vince (romantically) and Angelus (platonically) with all his heart.

* Enzo Lynwood: 31 years old, Sami-Martian, martial artist. Enzo is one of Vince’s closest friends, though their relationship is a tad strained at the moment; she’s more level-headed than him, yet capable of making far worse decisions. Handles all the inconvenient developments thrown at the party with decisive action and dry wit.

* Angelus: android, Christian, functionally mute. The light to Dante’s dark; Angelus’s unshakeable faith has helped him through hard times in the past, and so it will here as well. The softest of soft boys, which Vince finds a little milquetoast at first.

* Thema: android, habitual traveler. Thema is a pacifist who helps keep the party afloat emotionally; she parlays her experience as a sort of issue-negotiator for the apartment complex into keeping the more short-tempered of her friends out of serious trouble.

* Pavo: android, freelance coder. Pavo’s not much of a fighter or a long-distance traveler like his pals, but he does his best; his insights tend to be fairly helpful, at least. Carries himself like a mellow, laidback guy, but is downcast just often enough to cast doubt on this. Estranged from his sister.

* Jessamine: android, drifter. Jess is forthright and boisterous; she joins the party after helping them fend off Casimir’s men because it’s not like she has anywhere else to go, but it’s clear that her intentions are good...even if Jess is also blunt and foul-mouthed to a degree that causes her and Vince to clash often.

* Casimir Spada: android, syndicate boss. Though Casimir does care for his little brother, he wasn’t so good at that “meeting your little brother’s emotional needs” thing and hasn’t quite connected this with Dante running off. Casimir relentlessly pursues Vince, furious that he “stole” the last bit of hope in his life. 

* Umbra: the goddess of darkness who expresses undying hatred of everyone and everything (except Enzo). Vince and co. have no idea how to even begin dealing with her.

--

THE SETTING ITSELF:

In short, a cassette futurist world where analog is king, with some more inexplicable stuff going on in the background (see also: Umbra, Vince’s recurring dreams). Deus Vocatus takes influence from works like Marathon, Ghost in the Shell, and Serial Experiments Lain...and was also literally my Marathon AU, “Inmortalitas”, before I forked it. That’s a story for another post.

Some details about the world, in no particular order:

* The Terran Alliance consists of its namesake, Astarte (an artificial ring/colony built around Venus), Mars, and the Asteroid States, plus various outer colonies and extraterrestrial allies. While it’s meant to serve all of its members equally, Earth has come under fire for being slow to act at best and willfully neglectful at worst--just ask survivors of the Great Martian War, one of the bloodiest conflicts in living memory.

* LADNAH, the syndicate that pulled many strings on Mars and threw themselves into the War, are on the Alliance’s “kill on sight” list. Among those opposing LADNAH were the Crimson Storm, a resistance group formed in direct response to their monstrous tactics, and the Sons of Ares, various ex-soldiers and ex-enforcers who had protected Mars decades before these assholes showed up.

* While the Alliance has retained most of its colonies, there's the odd independent colony such as Philemon. Opinions of Earth held among ex-Alliance constituents are often not flattering.

* Among Earth’s alien allies are Zeta Reticula and Rumina--the Greys and the furries, respectively. In particular, the Reticulans, as they’re properly known here, made contact with Earth at Roswell exactly when you think they did, but couldn’t reveal themselves to humanity at large until 2012 (though that encounter was very useful to the US government in covering up that busted spy balloon). There’s a contingent of Reticulans who believe that humans made first contact on Zeta Reticula far earlier than Roswell, however.

Rumina, particularly its major world power Faunalia, has its own problems, up to and including major social unrest. Oh, and a whole bunch of Ruminan monkeys somehow ended up in ancient India, where they passed themselves off as Terrans for centuries just to avoid any awkward questions.

* The Jovian Republic is not part of the Terran Alliance, though the two will put up with each other for as long as is necessary to secure peace. It consists of the terraformed major satellites of Jupiter and is, in general, not a bad place to live.

* Somewhere out there is a planet called Icarus. In most places, speaking its name is akin to invoking the Devil himself.

-

* TV and radio remain some of the best ways to reach a wide audience, even if you do get the occasional channel dedicated to gruesome niches. Broadcasting equipment and Video Toasters are widely available to the public for this purpose; the upshot is that it’s not uncommon for the more “professional” channels to get hijacked.

* The Internet exists more as it did in the late ‘90s to early ‘00s, untouched by the scourge of social media. Smartphones technically exist here and can access the Internet, but they’re much bulkier and hardier, and their main purpose outside of making calls is setting up private IRC channels.

* Androids have existed for centuries here, though they obviously weren’t always 99% indistinguishable from humans. One older model of android that’s still commonplace is the oracle, who were created for the specific purpose of data analysis and are always female; oracles have full human sentience, but appear wholly mechanical from the neck down and have robotic “ears” and forehead gems. Many of them have calm or outright cold personalities.

* Combat cyborgs are formally known as “praetorians”, roughly divided into generations. First-gen praetorians were engineered to work in microgravity without ill effects, and were valuable figures in the early days of outer colonization--and in the inter-colony wars that followed. Second-gen praetorians were largely localized on Mars; less than one percent survived the Great Martian War, though not for lack of effectiveness. This much is known to the public.

All praetorians, as a result of their extensive modifications, are biologically immortal.

More to come over time, including a comparison between Deus Vocatus and Inmortalitas (pre-fork).

[theemotionaltherapist]

The irony of it...

You know, I think it's pretty damn ironic that I am a therapist sometimes. Even my own therapist pointed this out given all that I have been through in life. Growing up, things were hard and I shouldn't be where I am today. Where am I today, you ask?

I am a 29 year old married female, working in private practice and months away from graduating with a doctorate in social work (over achiever, I know). My husband is aGodsend and I do not deserve such an amazing man like him, but I am beyond thankful he is mine. We are currently trying to get pregnant and lets just say... it's not as easy as it was made out to be in middle and high school where you were afraid to cough on someone out of fear of conception. Sadly our reality lately is defined by ovulation test strips, scheduled sex, and two week waits. Now I will say, we are early on in this journey but it still hurts like hell when those cramps turn into a period rather than a baby.

We have only told a few people in our lives that we are actually trying. One of which being my coworker because we were both in the process of trying and lucky her, she got pregnant and I still am not. Another person I have told about it is one of my clients... a bit more self disclosure than I probably should have, but she is in a similar situation and I will be honest, the early stages are a lonely place to be. You hear about couples who have been trying for years with no success but it almost seems like those of us who are new to the game are not allowed up be sad and upset. Spoiler alert... we are.

But back to the irony... majority of my childhood I don't fully remember which fun fact, is a defense mechanism that your body uses to protect you from traumatic events. This can be sad as the few memories I do have aren't actual memories but rather recollection from home movies or remembering stories I had heard my family share. Growing up it was just my mom and I with some court ordered visitation with my grandparents who were raging alcoholics every summer from 3-12 years old. This led to a number of blanks in my memory as I often disassociated to keep myself safe. Since all of that we have discontinued contact with said grandparents after a massive blow up argument... I may share more about that later, and while it has been nice not having to listen to complaints of the weather in the midwest every other day, there are a lot of emotions that go with that.

I have some history of anxiety along with other events in my life but recently depression has been looming, and that is really new for me. It sucks and has given me a new sense of empathy for my clients but I am struggling to climb out of the hole myself. I encourage a lot of my clients to journal but admittedly have never tried it myself. So here is my attempt to journal, I'll be it in a more public platform, but I also hope that this can show some of you out there that you aren't alone.

-The Emotional Therapist

[mirrorsoftheotherself]

Just Kiyoto!Orpheus Things (AKA: Lore)

I know my blog isn't spoiler-free, I'm putting everything under a read-more to be safe.

Paean is the physician of the gods in Greek mythology. This ties into his character arc as he is a key component to everyone, himself included, healing after the significant loss. That said, Paean isn't Makoto turned into a Persona. If that were the case, the Great Seal wouldn't exist and the world would most likely be nonexistent at this point.

During the process of Orpheus taking over, Makoto's body was in a comatose state for a few days; from March 5th to March 9th. This allowed Makoto to make the process of transfer a bit easier for Orpheus and at least let him wake up without too much disorientation. Upon waking up, the only way SEES knew the whole thing happened is due to Fuuka sensing something wrong and Orpheus himself not feeling Makoto's presence anymore.

He technically has TWO birthdays! The first is Makoto's since Orpheus has his body now and the second is the day of his emergence, April 9th. While the outside world celebrates Makoto's since (to everyone not SEES) nothing happened, SEES celebrates Orpheus'.

When he first woke up in control, his eyes were still in that pale-blueish color. However, as the month passed and as everyone traversed the Abyss of Time, his eyes gradually changed into the red color they are now. While SEES did notice, the rest of the world doesn't... As if they were always that red to begin with.

Orpheus was the true voice of reason when everyone was debating whether to continue in the present or go back to the past. He recognized the charged emotions in everyone and the various confrontational behavior from everyone wasn't getting anyone anywhere. Compared to the canon timeline, he would actually end up avoiding the big brawl because he knew that what everyone needed right now, before everything else, was to let all those emotions out and, overall, the truth behind the sacrifice. Probably also helps that he was part of Makoto before all this.

After the Answer and everyone moved out of the old dorms, those not graduating or Ken and Koromaru moved into the regular Gekkoukan dorms. That means, assuming that those dorms have multiple bedrooms in one dorm room (it IS a fancy and highly funded school), Orpheus and Junpei are roommates!

Just because he's his own person now, that doesn't mean he's gonna abandon music. His Makoto also participated in music club. Post-graduation, he would begin to pursue becoming a freelance music instructor and, on the side, a multi-instrumentalist.

He didn't want to get rid of the MP3 player. Too sentimental to even discard. Plus, it still works.

Compared to Makoto who kept up with the uniform in full, Orpheus went a bit more casual with a long sleeved t-shirt and the addition of a red scarf. He also grew out his hair a bit. He admitted that it didn't feel right without the length of hair he had or the headdress he used to have.

[infernalodie]

𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐓. 𝟏

“ Fate in your hands, While you're waitin' for me”

Summary: You always wanted to do the greater good. Help the city that was far too gone to be saved. Bruce and Selina told you this would only put you in danger, and you didn’t listen. What are they suppose to do when Penguin captures you after you seized a large cargo of his drugs?

(Somewhat Spoilers for The Batman)

Warning 18+: Angts, violence, Penguin being a heartless a-hole, death, torture, pet names, mention of sex with both Bruce and Selina

Part Two

Words 2051

DNI IF YOU’RE A MINOR!!

Life as a detective was all that you had needed in your life. You were happy with the job, as well as tormented by it from Gotham that was a hell hole. A true and harsh reality that the city had been left behind a long time ago. Only very few people willing to take their time and pick up the pieces. And you were one of those people.

It had been your home since you were a child. Growing up in the slums of the city where one wrong turn could result to you getting killed. But you stayed on your toes and stayed alive. Going to school, minding your business and working towards the role that could change this city for the better.

So, years after getting the job, it only seemed like fate for you to encounter the Batman. The man who silenced a room with his mere presence. His silence having always put you on edge when you tried to do your job. Yelping on many occasions when he would be standing over you, looking at a piece of evidence you inspected.

“No wonder why people can’t help but feel on edge with you around,” You had told him. “Creeping on people doesn’t exactly give you the best image.”

And he could only stare at you. That hollow (from what you guessed) stare that pierced your eyes like a knife. Delving into your fears and able to pull them out with his gaze. “I hope I give you the best impression.”

That had been the first sentence he ever said to you. And it only seemed to unravel from there as he appeared by your side more often. Urging Gordon to bring you on the cases they worked together. Who was to deny the Batman?

You two worked together for months. Solving cases, capturing murderers, and criminal figures that tore Gotham apart on a daily basis. It was safe to say that a connection would inevitably form. A bond that would interweave with one another and creating a knot so strong, that you would uncover the truth of the Batman.

“I’m sorry Detective, but he’s-” Alfred tried to say, but you grabbed a paper from your pocket and held it up for him.

“Don’t need to worry.” He took the paper and looked it over with knitted brows. “I’m here to search. You can take it up with Gordon if there’s a problem, but I would like to talk to Bruce. If he isn’t here, I’ll search this whole damn tower if I have to find the truth.”

It had been your persistence that intrigued Alfred who could tell in your eyes you uncovered Bruce’s truth. And it hadn’t been his fault Bruce was found out, so he pointed you in the direction of the old subway system under the tower. The door at the far corner of the garage that led downwards.

That had been where you found Bruce and where he confessed his feelings.

“I care about you,” Bruce muttered. “I don’t care about what happens to me, but I can’t let you get hurt because of me.”

Okay, well, he didn’t exactly confess them, but you could understand him. Able to see that he wasn’t good with these types of things; talking about his feelings. You couldn’t blame him and made it very easy for him to understand by pushing him against a nearby table and kissing him.

It’d been a long night as he had you laying on the front of his Batmobile. Towering over you with his hips slamming into yours as you mewled and moaned. Nails digging into his scared flesh as you remained in cloud-nine. Feeling him inside you, reworking your body to his liking, fucking you ‘till you were a sweating and sensitive mess.

Things just seemed to fall into place from there. You two didn’t make it official, but you were committed to one another. It had been everything you wanted as it didn’t change much of either of your lives. Some night you would visit the Wayne Tower, work on paper work from Gordon and wait for Bruce to get back. When he did, you both slept for a few hours before having to depart for the rest of the day.

And it seemed like fate for you two to be together more when the Riddler started tearing apart the corporate ladder. And it seemed just as fateful for you two to run into Selina Kyle, also known as, Catwoman. A methodical and seductive burglar that shook yours and Bruce’s world the moment you met.

She was able to quickly piece together the relationship between you and Batman. But that didn’t stop her from moving in on you two. Working her way into your guys' relationship. And surprisingly, you had been the one to tell Bruce to include her. Who was Bruce to deny his favorite girl?

“Why didn’t you send little mouse with me?” Selina spat. “At least I would be enjoying this.”

You felt your cheeks heat at the burglar’s words. “Selina, we just need you to talk to the D.E.A. agents a little longer,” you told her. “Can you please do that, for me?”

Bruce glanced between the screen that displayed Selina and you, a smirk forming on his lips as Selina chuckled. “For you, baby?” She asked. “I would do anything.”

The three of you saved Gotham from Riddler’s scheme at the Arena and save countless lives. It had been the first time in a while when you felt like Gotham had a chance to breathe once more. Maybe not for long, but long enough that it gave you, Bruce, and Selina a chance to enjoy the silence of a little while longer.

“Look at me, little mouse,” Selina’s silk voice called. Lifting your head to find your girlfriend laid out on the bed in front of you, bare of her suit and watching you with a grin. Bruce was behind you, pounding into you mercilessly as if his life depended on it.

Selina leaned forward, dragging her index finger along the edge of your jaw. A grin on her lips as she watched your face contort in pleasure. “Go easy on her, Bats,” she teased. “You might fuck her dumb.”

You whined, leaning forward in an attempt to kiss her. But Bruce grabbed a hold of your shoulder, bring you back to him, while slamming himself into you. It was hard to tell if you screamed or if it was just your thoughts, but you felt your arms give out from under you. Hearing that soft laugh from Selina as she stroked your hair.

Her hand glided downwards until it found your sensitive nipples. Twisting and pulling gently, biting her bottom lip at the whines slipping out of you. “Don’t worry, baby,” she whispered. “The night’s young and I fully intend on using it to my full advantage.”

Life couldn’t be any better for you. You had two people that loved you profusely. Treated you like a million bucks and made you feel the same. They loved you and you loved them.

But your lives carried on as Gotham’s crime never stopped for anyone.

And that was how you came in on one of Penguin’s cargo. Able to seize it and get it all confiscated, marking it to be the biggest drug bust in history. Better than the one on Falcone and Gordon was there to promote you. Things were fantastic and you were proud of what you were able to do. But you should’ve listened to Bruce’s warnings, “They’re going to hit back if you do this.”

“Wake up, Detective.” You groaned, body lulled forward as a stream of blood leaked from between your lips.

You cried when a hand grabbed a handful of your hair, yanking your head up. Blinking tiredly, you saw Oswald stood in front of you with a bat in his hand. It’s metal structure bloody from the onslaught of beatings he’d performed on you.

The man tilted his head as you let out horsed breaths. Chest feeling like it had caved in from the amount of hits from the metal bat. You blinked heavily, smacking your lips as drool pooled from your lips.

“I gave you your chance to back off, Detective,” Oswald told you. “I even moved my shipping routes across the city to not bother you and the rest of the GCPD. But you still had to mess with my operation.”

“It’s not that I cared about your operation, Penguin,” you replied. A smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you laughed. “I just wanted to see your tiny legs stomp around in frustration, bitch.”

Another swing of the bat had you crying. Your shins were shattered and your hands were cut to pieces. Now, you were sure your ribcage was broken in 8 different spots. But you somehow stayed awake, not willing to give Oswald the satisfaction of watching you beg for mercy. No. That would be the last thing you ever gifted him.

The beatings carried on longer and longer you could handle. Leaving you a sobbing and trembling mess. You were broken down to a single atom and Oswald laughed at that fact. Continuing to destroy your very being up until the last moment of your consciousness.

Bruce on the other hand, had received your emergency signal. And now, he was racing through the streets of Gotham with Selina anxiously sitting in the passenger seat.

Bruce could only feel the uncontrollable fear that flowed through his body. Was she okay? Who captured her? He didn’t know any of the answers to the questions running through his head. Only knowing that he and Selina needed to save you.

You groaned, eyes barely able to open from the swelling. But you had managed to realize that Oswald was gone, along with his goons. Leaving you in a rusty metal chair that had restrained your arms behind your back and ankles to the legs of the chair.

With a focused effort, you rocked the chair side to side. Just enough to have you falling over to your side. Crying out in pain as you pulled your ankles back towards the bottom of the seat. Gritting your teeth until the tape snapped and freed you. From there, you pushed the chair away and shakily got your feet.

Each step was stuttered with a limp. You let out pants, pain prickly across your body like pins and needles stabbing into you. Once you reached the warehouse doors, you turned around and awkwardly tried to tug it open.

“No, no, no,” you muttered, finding the door to not budge. “Please, don’t do this.”

But your attention was drawn to a beeping. Your swollen eyes carried across the room, searching and searching until you saw the blinking red from a bomb. It slowly counted down from 5 seconds.

5

When they arrived at the junkyard, they found it to be silent. Nothing could be heard besides the rain pelt down on the pair. Feet splashing in the puddles slowly building each moment that passed.

4

They sprinted in the direction of the warehouse. “Baby!” Selina called out in a panic.

3

You slid down to the ground, head lulling back to rest against the door. Lips slightly curling into a smile.

2

Bruce was getting closer, he was so damn close. He would hold you in his arms, you would be fine. Everything would be fine.

1

You closed your eyes.

BOOM!

Both Bruce and Selina were sent flying back from the fiery blaze that erupted from the warehouse. The sheer force sent Bruce back, flying through the air and landing on the windshield of his car. Only able to watch as the scorched earth blossomed brighter and brighter.

“Baby...” Bruce turned his head to find Selina hastily getting to her feet. “Baby! Baby!”

She couldn’t get any closer as arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her back. Holding her close as his eyes focused on the flames. A rage, one that was unbridled, formed around Selina’s heart. It compelling itself to her bloodstream and mind as that is where they could take control.

I’ll kill him, little mouse. I’ll kill them all.

a/n: Alright, first time writing on here and I hope you all enjoyed.

[highdramas]

the world’s a little blurry | b.b.

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: none

word count: 2107

summary: bucky is home, and he is yours

note: this is a one shot for now, but i definitely have more ideas for these two <3 this’ll be heavily inspired by tfatws so this is a spoiler warning for anything mentioned! also this is my first time writing bucky so pleaseeeeee give me some mercy lol

enjoy! <3

it’s nearly three in the morning, and you’re lucky if you stay up past midnight, so bucky makes a point to be quiet as he tiptoes into the apartment. after a mission gone awry in the apartment building where you had been neighbors, you’ve been staying with the superhero. something about not losing you and you’re safest here. bucky’s not stupid— caring about someone is a gamble, and it had become clear to his enemies who exactly it was that he cared about.

living with you came lots of things that bucky was not expecting. first off, you’re very cluttered. you call it controlled chaos, he calls it a mess. he’s fascinated by the state of your night stand, mostly. a dying plant and one loose airpod, two half empty water bottles, an empty starbucks cup.

second off, you have a cat. her name is katherine, but you call her kitty, occasionally kiki. and while bucky had been determined not to get attached, after awhile, it was difficult not to. she rubbed up on his legs, cuddled in his lap on the couch, slept on his chest in the middle of the night. she’s fucking adorable, and not even the winter soldier can deny that.

third off… you. you as a whole. he’s sure that it would’ve been a shock living with anyone, but the care that you give him… he’s not used to having someone making sure he’s eating. he’s not used to someone checking up on him throughout the day. he’s not used to having someone to come home to.

it’s nice.

it feels safe.

and he’ll kill anyone who tries to take this peace away from him.

bucky groans as he shucks his jacket off, feeling exactly where his muscles ache. he tries to keep his volume minimal. finally, he opens the door to the bedroom. the bedroom that you share.

this was the biggest adjustment of all.

he’d barely slept in a bed at all before you came along. too soft, too comfortable. he told you as much that first night, and what you had said shocked him.

“well, i’ll just sleep on the floor with you.”

no, oh, just get in bed. no, c’mon, it’s nice. none of those things. just understanding.

but it was more than understanding. it was meeting him exactly where he was.

that was three months ago, and you had kept your word. if you weren’t sleeping on the floor with him, you were on the couch with your hand tangling down, brushing along his hair, his shoulder. every time he felt you bucky swore that he could cry.

it was two months ago that he suggested you both sleep in the bed. and while it wasn’t every night, and some nights he padded out to the living room with a blanket and pillow… it was progress.

and he would wake up to find that you had joined him on the floor.

the nightmares weren’t gone. he’s not sure if they ever would be. but they were growing few and farer between, and the ones he did have were growing more manageable.

things were getting better.

of course, they were not perfect. and he knew that you didn’t expect them to be. he has therapy once a week, sometimes twice during the particularly hard weeks. he’s grown close with sam and his family. and… you.

his girl.

as the door creaks open, he almost chuckles at the sight of you. you’re laying horizontally across the bed, taking up both your side and bucky’s. katherine is curled in at your chest, her nose nearly touching yours. your mouth is open and he can see that there’s a bit of drool in the corner of your mouth, and that does make him laugh. it stirs you and he freezes.

bucky watches as you slowly wake, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, and then rubbing the drool from your mouth. “ew,” you mumble, still half asleep, and bucky leans in the doorway wearing a smirk.

“go back to sleep, doll.”

you hum and stretch, and so does katherine, giving a wide yawn. “you’re home.”

home.

had he ever had a home before? 

he did once, as a child. a time that feels so distant, so separate from the life that he leads now. sometimes, it’s hard to even picture the faces of his family members.

he had this apartment, but it never felt like home. not until you waltzed into it with your clutter and your laughter and your vibrancy. not until you cooked dinner hip to hip, not until you listened to music that he had never heard of, not until you watched some movie that was your favorite.

you’re home.

bucky smiles and he nods, sitting on the edge of the bed, pushing your hair back. “i’m home,” he says quietly. “i’m sorry i’m so late.”

you shake your head, your hand taking his. he still wears the gloves. you raise your eyebrows at him. “can i?”

he nods. you make quick work of removing each of his gloves, tossing them across the room, which makes bucky smile. he knows he’ll be picking those up in the morning. you press a kiss to his palm, the one that is flesh and bone. and then you take the other and do the same. “missed you, buck.”

something in his heart constricts as he watches you-- washed in moonlight that comes in through the window, sleepy smile on your face, eyes fixed on him. he knows that look, and he knows what it means. he doesn’t know if he deserves it, but he tries. he’ll always try for you.

“i wasn’t even gone twenty four hours,” the smirk is evident in his tone even if you can’t see it, but you scoff and roll your eyes. “i think you’re needy.”

“needy!” you repeat and laugh, falling back onto the pillow. kitty stirs and looks up at bucky, letting out a loud meow. “she’s the needy one. look at her.”

“both of you.” he scratches kitty’s head and then kisses the top of yours before he stands again. “i’m gonna shower.”

sleep is escaping you and you push yourself up onto your palms. “can i join you?”

he chews on the inside of his cheek and shrugs his shoulders innocently. “better pick up the pace then, soldier.”

with a laugh, you kick the sheets off of you. “yes sir.”

he rolls his eyes and you both shuffle into the bathroom. now, in the light, you’re able to get a good look at him. and your jaw drops slightly at what you see. “bucky,” you say and he already knows what’s coming. you touch the side of his face where a bruise is blossoming. “how the hell does this even happen?”

“part of the gig.”

you groan and he smiles and he does so because he loves you. he loves your mess and he loves your doting, he loves your cat and he loves coming home to see that you’ve taken up the entire bed. “you’re an old man. one of these days you’re gonna have to retire.”

“got unfinished business first.”

you know of his past. of course you do. although, you’re a firm believer that it’s not his past, rather than a past that was decided for him against his will. you’ve made a point of making your stance in that clear. you have heard stories of what bucky has done, but you have tutted and shaken your head. “what hydra did.”

these are the things that bucky tells himself, but it is different to hear it from someone else. someone who is not steve, or sam, or another avenger who has also committed morally grey acts. because, yes, they are all good and trustworthy and worth listening to-- but you. you are his girl. you are his girl who laughs at his jokes and teases him and never once babies him for what happened to him, but you’re also the girl who has woken him from nightmares, who has tended to his wounds, who has been held back from a fight just to defend his honor. you have seen him in his entirety, and you have never balked.

“alright, well--” it’s not lost on you how his eyes trail down your body as you undress, turning on the water and checking the temperature. “as soon of this business of yours is finished…”

“i know.”

the two of you share a look and he gives a crooked grin. “you look nice.”

“there’s dried drool on my face.”

“yeah, i know.”

it’s been nearly a year since you met james buchanan barnes and yet he still gets you to blush. he practically lights up at the sight of the color on your cheeks. “are you--”

“shut up and get in the shower,” you retort, pulling back the curtain and stepping into the steaming water.

“yes, ma’am.” you hear the shuffling of his clothes falling to the floor and then he is behind you, hands going up and down your arms. you let out a sigh and tilt your head back, peering up at him. water trails down his nose, dripping off and onto your forehead.

you don’t tell bucky, but you do worry. you worry every second that he’s gone on a mission. you know that you don’t have to say it, that he knows. and you trust that he will come home to you. bucky turns you and he holds your face in his hands and he presses his lips to yours and you know that he feels the same way.

i’ll always come back is spelled out in the way that he kissed you, the way that he holds the back of your head. we have forever is heaved from your lungs as he sucks the air from you.

when you part, you smile at his lips-- slightly swollen, pinker than normal. you rub your thumb along the bottom one and he catches your hand. he presses it on his chest, right where his heart hides beneath skin and bone. “you don’t have to do all of this to make up for what they did to you,” you say over the sound of water. “you’re allowed to have a normal life, if you want it.”

“i know.” he pushes a piece of wet hair from your face. “i just don’t--” he shakes his head and you know this all too well-- he doesn’t quite know what to say, he starts closing up and off and away, the high walls that guard his heart and mind beginning to take shape. “i feel like if i don’t… what was it all for?”

delicate hands move across his torso. you lather up a loofah and begin washing away blood and grime. “bucky,” you say and he looks at you, steely blue eyes staring right into yours. “you make people happy. you have people who love you, who care for you. you don’t owe the world reparations.”

he winces as you go over a particular bruise and you slow your movements, make them featherlight. “all i know is,” you begin. “whatever it is you want, whatever it is that fulfills your life… make sure it’s for you.”

a smile curls on his face and he stills your hands. “thank you.” he takes the loofah from you. “let me get you.”

“but i’m not done--”

“please. let me.”

you surrender and he begins to wash you, and your forehead falls to his shoulder, calm washing over your body. you could’ve been standing there for minutes or hours, you’re unsure. he pushes your hair back and at some point you realize that he is washing your hair, and you press gently open mouthed kisses against his chest and you hear his breath catch and you fall in love with him all over again.

“let me get yours--” you mumble around a yawn and you watch as he smirks down at you. “really, let me.”

bucky shakes his head and he turns the water off. “tomorrow,” he says.

you towel off and when you clamber into bed, you feel the weight of him beside you, your cat nestled between the both of you. you feel him pull you into him, his breath against your neck and his lips against your pulse point, and your eyes flutter shut. before sleep captures you, you murmur, “i love you, james bucky barnes.”

the feeling of his smile against your skin is imprinted on your heart, and his words coax you into sleep-- “i love you too, doll.”

bucky barnes sleeps through the night and doesn’t wake once.