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#tagging ship like a power word kill here

bby-deerling · 3 months

Text

break free (eustass kid x reader nsfw)

a demon literally possessed me while writing this! this is kinda late, i wanted to have this out for his birthday but.... here we are!

heed the content warnings!

18+, nsfw, mdni, wc: 1.7k masterlist

cw: afab!fem!reader, overstimulation, roleplay, bondage, kidnapping (he saves you don't worry), violence/violent imagery, blood, kid kills people, humiliation, inappropriate use of kid's metal fingers, rough sex and everything that entails, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, degradation, established relationship, hole stretching

tagging: @mandiemegatron @starlightkitten19 @wrennyx

A sigh of relief leaves your lips as the door rips open off its hinges. Though you were held dangling in the air by cuffs digging into your wrists, the sight of Kid storming into the room was enough to calm the panic swirling in your chest; of course he was coming to save you—and you hoped he was going to make it extra painful for the people who had dared to mess with what was his.

It's over in nearly an instant; Kid’s ability to disarm and repel weapons back towards their owners is enough to overpower nearly any normal man, but he makes sure to get a few powerful licks in with his metal arm, brutal with his swings and clashes as he gets his vengeance served on a silver platter—it was almost too easy for him, and if you weren’t the one at stake, he would likely consider the whole ordeal a waste of his time.

“Dumbass. Don’t get captured again. On my fucking birthday too…” he scoffs as he looks at you, covered in blood as crimson as his hair. Wiping the sweat from his forehead, he stares at you, and takes stock of the predicament you’re in, suspended in the air by your shackles; though your legs are free to move, they can’t touch the ground.

The situation you’re in has rendered you so vulnerable; so much so, that any annoyance at having to come collect you from a bunch of half-rate kidnappers was replaced with wicked and deviant thoughts.

“Lookin’ good there.” he says with a devious smirk, eyes slowly running down your body. No being or obstacle could hinder his path as he stalks towards you, and the room echoes with the squelch and snap of bones as he stomps over the fresh corpses of your kidnappers as if they were nothing but pesky ants. Passion overflows from his every movement as he snatches you by the waist and kisses you deeply, wasting no time slipping his tongue inside your mouth and pressing himself against you.

“Mmm, Kid, get these chains off me.” you mumble against his lips, wincing at the way the metal drags across your skin as you struggle against your restraints.

Wildfire brims in his eyes as he pulls back from the kiss and his metal fingers tilt your chin upward to face him, a silent demand for you to look him in the eyes.

“I dunno princess, I feel like I deserve a reward for coming all this way to rescue you.” he says teasingly, tracing his fingers down your side and dipping them just below the waistband of your skirt.

“Right here? You sure?” you squeak out in surprise, rattling against your chains as you adjust the way your wrists are being held by the shackles holding you up for him.

“It’s either I tie you up back on the ship or I fuck you right here, and I don’t feel like waiting.” he says, voice gravely and rumbling like the soft purr of an engine. His words make your thighs rub together as heat pools in your cheeks and between your legs. The feeling of your heartbeat pounding in your face intensifies as his hand creeps up your skirt, calloused fingers roughly dragging across the soft expanse of your thigh.

“Be gentle with me, it’s my first time…” you say, feigning embarrassment and casting your head downward. The flush on your cheeks soon becomes genuine as Kid’s booming, hysterical laughter rings in your ears, pulling you out of the fantasy.

“Not buying that one, babe—not when you’re dressed like that.” he says with a smirk, reaching under your skirt and snapping the waistband of your lace thong.

“Shut up!” you squeak, voice cracking and coming out much weaker than you intended it to. “You’re the one who called me princess! I thought we were—ugh, just forget it…” Now, you really were too shy to meet his eyes, gaze fixating on a dark, expanding pool of blood on the concrete floor instead.

“Don’t tell me you’re gettin’ shy on me now…” he taunts, amused by your embarrassment. Reveling in the burning heat on your cheeks, he leaves a trail of bites along your exposed neck, working his way towards your ear. “Can’t promise I’ll be gentle, but I’ll make it worth your while, babe.” he murmurs, emphasizing his words with a hot lick of his tongue along the shell of your ear.

“Give it to me, Kid…” you whisper lowly, trying to tamper your tone to not sound so needy for him. He gets to work as soon as the words leave your mouth, with his thumb traveling up to rub circles over your clothed clit.

“That’s my girl…” he says teasingly as you react to his touch, back arching away from the wall and towards his chest as he starts to unravel you. “Such a little slut…” he murmurs as he slides your panties to the side and sinks a finger inside of you, earning him a dreamy sigh as you tilt your hips towards him. “All dolled up and so eager to take me.” he hisses in your ear as he thrusts his finger into your glistening sex a few times before adding another. The sounds your pussy makes as he fucks you with his broad and rough digits are downright sloppy, and he halts the desperate way you squirm against him for release by pinning your waist to the wall with his metal hand, insistent on getting you to your high with his actions alone.

There’s a underlying gentleness to Kid’s movements, an undying devotion hidden under the guise of rough touches and crude remarks. He’s as jagged and broken as sharp shards of glass, but as he takes in the sight of you whining and whimpering for him as you cream on his fingers, he wants to both spoil you, and drag this opportunity out as long as he possibly can.

“That’s it, good girl, cumming around my fingers.” he praises, as he slips them into your mouth to lick clean. He groans as you suck on them, throwing his head back for a moment before lining one of his cold, broad, metal fingers up with your soaked entrance. The chill of the metal stings as he pushes into you, causing you to bite down on his salty fingers with a whine. He doesn’t relent, and is brutal with his movements, not affording you a chance to adjust to the way his metallic digit filled and stretched you up. His lips smash onto yours as he claims you greedily, possessively, and with a hint of bloodthirst still coursing through his veins. He’s already turned you into a mess, but he can’t help going the extra mile and slipping a second metal finger past your folds; the stretch causes you to suck on his lower lip hard in shock, prompting him to grab a fistful of your hair and tug on it.

“Feel good?” he asks, pulling away from your swollen and bitten lips to admire the fucked out expression on your face.

“Mhm… Feels s’good, don’t stop…” you whimper as he nudges the tips of his fingers across your sweet spot with each pass. He smirks at the way you’re so eager for him, even when you’re both bathed in blood, grime, and sweat.

“Little slut likes getting split open by my fingers, huh?” he taunts, getting you closer with each drag of his fingers along your walls. He feels the heat of your face and the twitch of your legs, and doubles his efforts to push you over the edge. “If you like ‘em so much, cream on ‘em.” he growls in your ear. The vibrations from the rumble of his deep voice travel down through your side and into your core, giving you no choice but to cum hard around him, walls spasming as your body writhes against the chains holding you in place.

Kid stares at you hungrily, drinking in each flutter of your pussy and every whine and moan that leaves your pretty, bloody, lipstick covered mouth. “Ready for my cock, pipsqueak?” he says with a wicked, toothy smirk as he stares you down; your pulse is still caught in your cheeks and you nod your head vigorously with a hum of desperation, begging him to give it to you as you yearn to be filled again. “It’s a good thing ya’ want it so bad, since you’re all tied up with nowhere to go.” he murmurs before entering you; it’s almost too easy as the stretch of his fingers molded you like putty, leaving you ready and pliable for him. You were his to completely own and wreck, and the way you moaned like a bitch in heat against his lips told him you loved every second of it.

The way his fat cock abused you and tightened the coil in your abdomen was almost unfair, and left you whining and writhing against your shackles. Kid doesn’t let up—not for a minute as he brutally buries his cock deep inside you—but he slams you against the wall with a hand locked around your hips.

“The more you squirm against me, the harder I’m gonna make you cum.” he warns before returning his attention to your soft, raw, swollen lips. The power and speed behind each thrust is unfathomable, but the way he kisses you is surprisingly soft by Kid’s standards; his wet tongue swirls against yours, eagerly catching every muffled and dampened sound that escapes you. The dissonance between his kiss and the brutality of the way he is fucking you scrambles your mind, and brings you to your high a third time; it’s more intense, and stars fill your vision as you flutter around him, and nearly pass out as blood pools in your ears. He’s not far behind as his hips begin to stutter, and he digs his teeth into your bottom lip and sucks hard as he shoots thick white ropes into you; the next few moments are soft, as he catches his breath and buries his head into your chest while he threads his fingers through your hair.

Panting and sighing, both of you take a minute to catch your breath before he slowly pulls out of you, groaning softly at the last drag of his cock against your tight walls.

“Any of them lay a hand on you?” he asks, cradling your face in his hand; you shake your head, and you catch the small hint of relief that crashes over his face like a wave.

“Good, ‘cause it’d be a pain in the ass to go down to hell and kill those bastards a second time.”

#one piece x reader #eustass kid x reader #eustass kidd x reader #eustass kid x you #eustass kidd x you #eustass kid smut #eustass kidd smut #one piece smut #one piece fanfiction #mdni #eustass kid #eustass kidd #x reader

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fanby-fckry · 2 months

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🕸️ angie-fluffy-bootz Follow

24 min. ago

time sensitive question how flirt boy

🕸️ angie-fluffy-bootz Follow

2 min. ago

thanks guys

#the fucking radio demon parody account replied to my post #with extremely UNHELPFUL advice #and charlie #is ur advice unisex? #bcuz if thats how you got vaggie #im judging you both #irl source

( 697 notes )

⚪️ Anonymous said

r u dead?

📻 real-radio-demon Follow

4 hr. ago

Ha! Bold of you to assume I can be killed :)

📻 real-radio-demon Follow

4 hr. ago

Show your face and per’’haps,’,’. I’ll come~.to you

🎀 charlies-angel Follow

32 min. ago

This account is fake. Nobody knows where Alastor is, anon. Stop wasting your time.

#this parody account is in really poor taste

( 14,581 notes )

🕸️ angie-fluffy-bootz Follow

Jul 1

if I make it outta this alive, I’m gonna tell my crush I’m in love with him.

🕸️ angie-fluffy-bootz Follow

Jul 1

fuck

🕸️ angie-fluffy-bootz Follow

1 hr. ago

ya know, I don’t think I’ve confessed to someone and meant it in over a decade?

🕸️ angie-fluffy-bootz Follow

53 min. ago

haha would it be crazy if I said I forgot how?

#its literally part of my job to flirt with people #then i catch feelings and suddenly #i get all tongue-tied #i cant fall back on my old scripts either #he hates bullshit #he wants me #the real me #but the real me doesnt know how to do this!!!

( 268 notes )

💀 be-gay-do-crym Follow

2 hr. ago

apparently people are canceling @.niffty-lady ? wtf?

🌕 m00nlight-h0wling Follow

1 hr. ago

they are and it’s actually the stupidest thing i’ve ever seen

#and the bar was really fucking low #considering the amount of dumb chaotic bullshit my dad gets into ↯ #niffty lady

( 22 notes )

👓 creepz0 Follow

3 hr. ago

It’s time to CANCEL @.niffty-lady

Here’s why:

Niffty LITERALLY KILLED a man in cold blood and now PROFITS off of his death

This so-called “lady” is INCREDIBLY rude to fans, ignoring requests leaving fans on read and answering asks with a NASTY attitude. NOT very lady-like if you ask me

Is associated with the VERY PROBLEMATIC @.real-radio-demon (self explanatory)

Writes TOXIC and PROBLEMATIC ships (spidermoth, radiohusk, reylo 🤢)

Writes NSFW when she herself is CHILD-CODED

PROOF is under the cut ⬇️

. Keep reading

#callout post ↯ #niffty lady #anti niffty lady #niffty critical

( 5,101 notes )

📻 real-radio-demon Follow

3 hr. ago

Despite popular belief, I am not dead!

Well, not any deader than I’ve been since 1933! Hahaha!

↯ #is alastor dead? #ha! no ↯ #alastor the radio demon #real radio demon broadcasts

( 147,381 notes )

⚪️ Anonymous said

isn’t it disrespectful to write fics about someone you killed irl?

🪡 niffty-lady Follow

4 hr. ago

I have no respect for Adam. Hope this helps! <3

#answered ask #anon ask

( 136,247 notes )

📺 voxblr4k Follow

5 hr. ago

Is the radio demon dead?

. 96,460 votes • remaining time 6 days, 19 hours

#polls ↯ #alastor the radio demon ↯ #is alastor dead?

( 19,292 notes )

🪡 niffty-lady Follow

6 hr. ago

Forbidden Fruit

Adam x Reader | 10k words | Rated E

⚠️ Major Character Death

Tags: Smut, Whump, Sinner Reader, Forbidden Love, Bad Ending

After a night of reckless passion, you quickly became Archangel Adam’s favorite sin. Your love, as forbidden as the fruit of Eden, was destined to end in tragedy.

https://archiveofoursouls.hell/works/63595697

#niffty lady fic #adam x reader #angel x sinner #sinner reader #smut #whump #forbidden love #bad ending #rpf #aoos link #aoos fanfic

( 49,933 notes )

📻 real-radio-demon Follow

6 hr. ago

Well, it looks like I’ve got some time on my hands!

I’m sure many of you have burning questions you’d like answered

So, ask. me. any’,thing. :)

#ask me anything #ama ↯ #alastor the radio demon #real radio demon broadcasts

( 16,628 notes )

🐍 x-hiss-lord-x Follow

Dec 12, 2019

i can't have beef with the power of friendship trope because if someone wanted to hang out with me i'd probably reconsider my stance on turning the city into the 10th circle of hell

🐍 x-hiss-lord-x Follow

Dec 12, 2019

besides i can always just redirect my dark urges towards being violently protective of my new friends. there's no rule that says you can't do that.

🌈 hells-disney-princess Follow

7 hr. ago

I found Sir Pentious’s old voxblr blog, and I think I’m gonna cry

🌈 hells-disney-princess Follow

7 hr. ago

He made the ultimate sacrifice to protect his friends and the hotel during the extermination. He did exactly what he said he would in this post.

I wish I could thank him for everything he did for us. And I wish I could’ve done a better job of protecting him.

I don’t know where Souls go when they get erased; I don’t know if they go anywhere at all. But I hope that wherever Sir Pentious is now, he’s with people that he considers his friends.

#rip Sir Pentious #we miss you #irl source

( 348 notes )

📻 real-radio-demon Follow

8 hr. ago

↯ #alastor the radio demon #real radio demon broadcasts #the ink spots #we’ll meet again #Voxify

( 4,102 notes )

⬜️ voxblr-meta Follow

9 hr. ago

Fanby’s Fake Dash Masterpost

#meta #fake tumblr dash

( 3 notes )

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she-posts-nerdy-stuff · 1 year

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Kaz and Wylan’s potential to become each other

Wow, you guys were a lot more excited about this than I was expecting! I made a post briefly mentioning this idea and it got way more attention that I was expecting, so as promised here is my explanation and I’ve tagged people who asked for it at the end :)

*WARNING: CONSTANT SPOILERS AHEAD*

Ok so the driving forcing of this comparison is rooted in the similarities of their characters and their backstories. Both of them lost a close family member, were abused by men with power over them, and experienced a form of ‘rebirth’ by nearly drowning in the Ketterdam canals. They also both experience disability; Kaz using a cane for a broken leg that didn’t heal correctly, and Wylan having severe dyslexia that prevented him from learning to read. A key difference that separates them, and arguably is a representation of the difference in the way their experiences have shaped their personalities as well, is that Kaz’s disability is a direct result of his chasing after vengeance, whereas Wylan’s disability was used as an excuse for his father to abuse him for what we as the reader see to be a minimum of eight years. (I’m assuming this because he is 16 in the book and was 8 when his mother ‘died’, which is the point that he describes he father to have “given up on him”)

I’m gonna quickly hop to parallels between Kaz and Pekka Rollins, bare with me I promise it’s relevant, which are quickly established as a key part of the novels. When Inej compares them, Kaz’s reply is “I don’t sell girls, I don’t con helpless kids out of their money” to which she gently responds “look at the floor of the Crow Club, Kaz”. Aside from this being the heartbreaking line that it is, it also does a very good job of highlighting their similarities and a similarity that they share with Jan Van Eck. When they meet the merch at the end of the first book they meet on an island called Vellgeluk, which is described as being popular with smugglers and slavers like those who kidnapped Inej. The other Crows are surprised Van Eck knows about Vellgeluk, but Kaz simply says “maybe he isn’t the upstanding merch he appears to be”. Great subtle foreshadowing for his double cross, and great establishment of the link between these three characters. In fact, Van Eck and Kaz echo each other more than you might think. Just as Kaz states “Greed bows to me, it is my servant and my lever”, Van Eck says “Yes, Chaos will come. And I will be it’s master”. In their first meeting, Van Eck accuses Kaz of murder and gambling with people’s lives, and in return Kaz points out that 1 in 5 of Van Eck’s ships will never return because they will sink or “fall prey to pirates”, so they are both doing the same thing, and that they both have the same motivations for this bloodshed: “profit”.

Now consider how often Wylan echoes Kaz, and therefore whether he echoes his father as well. They both have exceptional memories, Kaz’s being photographic/eidetic and Wylan being able to put words to music in his head to remember pages worth of infomation - this is even emphasised by Kaz being able to count cards when he gambles, saying “he could keep track of the game for up to three decks” and Jesper asking Wylan if he’d be able to apply “that trick to counting cards” to which he replies “probably. But I won’t”. They also both have impressive intellects, which could have placed them far higher up in the world than they’ve found themselves if it weren’t for cruel circumstances - Van Eck even comments on this, saying it angers him that Kaz has so much potential but does nothing with it. Then there’s their tendency to avoid being vulnerable. I think we too often overlook the fact that no-one knows Jan Van Eck hired two men to kill his son, not even Jesper, and that not even Inej knows what happened to Kaz on the Reaper’s Barge. Jesper believes that Wylan left his house as a result of his father’s abuse but that it was still his choice, and Inej has no information beyond “Pekka Rollins killed my brother” and the explanation of the con when Kaz faces off with Rollins in Crooked Kingdom. I genuinely believe that the biggest thing separating them is where they place blame for their situations. Kaz blames Pekka Rollins. Wylan actually blames himself.

Arguably, although he catalysed the events, if Rollins hadn’t conned Kaz and Jordie they still would have suffered in an almost identical way: they would both contract the Queen’s Lady Plague, they wouldn’t have enough money for both medicine and boarding, and Jordie would die. In that scenario Kaz would have still been left penniless and alone with nowhere to go, but he wouldn’t have had anyone to blame. In fact, he may have died as well because it’s really his drive for vengeance that makes him strive for survival. When he’s on the Reaper’s Barge he wonders if it’s worth trying to survive because there’s nothing waiting for him in the city, but then he realises that the chance of revenge is waiting for him, and that thought drives him to stay alive every day that follows. Without Rollins, Kaz probably would have blamed himself for Jordie’s death, and I’m backing that up with the singular moment when he’s first attacked by parem-high tide makers and has a brief “boy’s fear” that they are ghosts. He thinks, for a split second, that a ghost has come to kill him and what does he say? He says “Jordie had come for vengeance at last”. This is chapter three. We have no idea who Jordie is. With the limited information we had at the time and what we’d just seen happen to Big Bolliger, I assumed it was someone in Kaz’s gang that he had backstabbed and who has died because of what he did. But no. This single line leads me to wholeheartedly believe that Kaz blames Rollins, who realistically was only a small part of his suffering, quite so vividly to emotionally avoid blaming himself.

Wylan blames himself until around chapters 14 to 16 of Crooked Kingdom. His experiences with mental, emotional, and physical abuse have actively convinced him that his so-called ‘inadequacies’ caused a change in his father’s behaviour. But Wylan not being able to read didn’t magically turn Van Eck from a lucky family man into someone willing to try “specialists, tonics, beatings, [and] hypnotism” against his child. The fact is that Van Eck, like many abusers, is masterfully manipulative in everything he does. Wylan describes seeing his parents’ marriage as a happy one, but he also says “the argued all the time, sometimes about me. But I remember them laughing a lot too”. He’s quick to defend their relationship as if it isn’t supposed to be marred by argument and he lays blame on himself by suggesting that he was the root of their unhappiness. He also says that around Alys, Jan Van Eck becomes who he once was around Marya; a kinder, gentler man. I don’t think we’re meant to assume that he’s acting any differently with Alys in private right now, but I do think we’re meant to assume that he would have done down the line if he hadn’t been arrested (and presumably she filed for divorce). In chapter 14 of Crooked Kingdom, Wylan learns that his mother is still alive but that his father had her committed and declared insane so he could use it as grounds for divorce and marry Alys instead. And you know what happens? Wylan blames himself. He says, verbatim, to Jesper: “You don’t understand. It’s my fault”. He explains that Van Eck did this so he could have a “real heir”; because Marya produced a “faulty” child he needed a new woman to give him the child he wanted. That’s a messed up thing to think on so many levels, but Wylan doesn’t blame Van Eck because he is still being conditioned by his abuse. He and Kaz experienced different kinds of abuse, and Kaz wasn’t conditioned to blame anyone but his abuser, so that’s what he does. When Wylan does begin to blame Van Eck, he is immediately taken in by this same idea of revenge. Kaz says “you were angry. I needed you righteous” when explaining why he sent Wylan to St Hilde blind in chapter 16. Wylan was angry with his father before, but he wasn’t actively seeking vengeance. Now that he has a cause, someone other than himself to fight for? He tells Kaz “well, now you have me”.

Both of them have this potential to be fuelled by revenge or self-hatred, and although they go about it in different ways and lean towards different sides of the scale they are both balancing between those two extremes for the entire duology. Their past experiences have, and their future experiences could, tip them further either way but right now they are almost playing with the line.

Thank you so much if you’ve bothered to read this far, sorry for the long post but you did ask for an essay, so there you go. Tagging the people who asked - @kazooyay @mikasimaginairyworld @sunseeking-cyptid @moonlit-aura @alexplutoplanet @gandalfsmallnaturals @livsarthaven @goodomenstrack23 @origami-butterfly @flower-biatch @bookworm010307 @thesunniest @wherela @space-ace-thoughts @sixofbabycrows @antisocial-burrito

Sorry if I missed anyone!!!

937 notes · View notes

shygirl4991 · 3 months

Text

Chapter 3 Colorful confession

A shout out to @cody-the-cat enjoy seeing the idea come to life! All art is by @alianarepasa do not repost! A Four Chapter special as thank you for all the support you guys have given me!

Last Chapter Final Chapter

Summary: SMG3 just wanted to make himself a nice cup of coffee before the work day began, but when he takes a sip from his freshly brewed coffee and passes out he will wake up to a huge surprise. Three other versions of himself now run wild in the mushroom kingdom and he has to stop them before the world learns all his secrets.

Tags: Love Confessions, Enemies to friends to lovers, Romantic comedy, fluff and angst, tw blood

They panic and run hiding behind a building as SMG4 passes them, Heart sighs trying to get up only to stumble. Book catches Heart “Hey now you're still weak, there's no way you can go to Four in your state.” Heart frowns seeing how panicked the man is, SMG3 sighs turning around and looking at his three personalities. “Spade, Book cover me and Heart we are switching clothes.” They stare wide eyed at him before Heart slowly walks away from Books hold “Dont be to mean, im sure the man is worried seeing his friend run off crying.”

Three nods as they switch outfits. “I will tell him that i removed the contacts due to crying, stay out of sight till i get rid of him.” He felt awkward being dressed in pink, he was so used to being in dark clothing that it felt off as if he was screaming at the world to look at him again. SMG4 turns noticing Three, with an awkward wave Four ran up to Three, his concern written all over his face “Three! Thank the memes you're okay, what happened, why did you run?” Three was feeling overwhelmed by his emotions as he closed his eyes, he needed to come up with a story here and now. “Today…is the anniversary of when I lost Terrance when it clicked I just lost it,” his eyes start to water as he forces himself to face the memories he held back. The gifts Terrance would make to help him kill SMG4, the rocket ship he made because he wanted to see the world with him. His final words, that one hurt the most hearing him say he loved him and knowing he never got the chance to tell him the same. SMG4 frowns, pulling Three into a hug, Three’s face goes red from how close he is and starts to regret accepting his feelings.

His heart was ready to jump out of his chest, lucky for him it's the organ and not the personality. Heart smiles watching the interaction, he was starting to feel life slowly come back to him as he watches the pair. Spade blushes looking away, he felt himself glow and let out a chuckle “He is really holding back…huh?” a group of piantas walk up to them smirking, Spade starts to growl at them showing his sharp teeth. Hearing the growl, Heart and Book turn surprise to see the group, they look at the three of them as if they were studying their prey. Heart’s eyes turn red while walking in front of Book “Do you need something?”

One of the piantas walks to the front of the group, removes his fedora and smiles “yes, so you see we were walking around when we notice SMG3 walking with what seems like clones of himself. Funny story we lost an experimental cherry power up that when a person drinks it makes copies of that person.” he points at the group and lets out a dark chuckle. Spade and Heart glared at the group while Book was analyzing his words. He takes out his notebook and writes the information down “A power up that makes copies…but we aren't copies..so how?” The leader claps, breaking Book out of his thoughts “Give us the power up Three, no one has to get hurt.” Heart was getting ready to fight when Book pulled him back. “Heart, something isn't adding up, we aren't copies which means if these people learn what we are..they might kill us and use our body to make more of whatever made us.”

Heart bites his lip looking at the group, the leader was getting sick of the waiting and takes out a gun pointing it at Spade. The pair jump up in surprise “You won't share then i will get rid of your little clone!” Spade smirks and sprints right at the leader surprising the man, opening his mouth he bites the gun in half, the leader stands there staring at the broken gun in shock “The…fuck?” Spade spits the other piece of the gun out of his mouth, he lets out a dark chuckle “Sorry looks like I have more bite than bark!”

The leader looks at the group again, his eyes wide seeing how they are dressed. “You're not copies…” he starts to laugh, making Heart and Book nervous. Spade rolled his eyes, annoyed by the group, the man stopped laughing as he gave the group a dark look “You're not copies, you're something different, boys look like we are getting something out of this capture them we have new test to do.” Spade growls seeing the gang members approach them “Book take Heart and warn the original, i have some rage to get out,” Heart frowns grabbing Spades arm “What if they catch you, remember what you are to him!” Spade chuckles, pulling away from Heart he snaps his fingers summoning Eggdog. The pup looks around surprised seeing multiple versions of his father, Spade smiles softly at the pup “Want to help daddy kick some ass?” he barks, becoming an egg sword for spade. Book and Heart frown watching Spade walk from them “ALRIGHT FUCKERS MESS WITH ME AND YOU GET ME!”

The leader steps back as his members charge at Spade, he dodges the swings of their baton to smack them back with Eggdog. One of the men runs grabbing the personality only for Spade to laugh headbutting the man, he holds his head in pain seeing this Spade runs up kicking the man across the field. Seeing they weren't winning close combat one takes out a gun, Spades eyes glow as he stares at the man. Seeing all of them distracted, Heart and Book run off trying to come up with a plan to get SMG3 help. Spade slowly walks up to the man, seeing the personality keep walking forward with a murderous expression he begins to shake in fear. Spade smirks grabbing the gun and pulling it out of his hand tossing it “You fucked with the wrong man.” Book sees Three and Four separate, Heart watching that Four was far enough threw his hat hitting the man in the face to make him notice them. They wave their hands in a panic as he stomps over “What the hell are you gu-” he feels sharp pain on his side, confused he touches his side to see blood looking up he then notices one of the personalities was missing “What happened to Spade!?”

Heart takes back his hat back then takes SMG3 hand “Some weird guys approached us and he is fighting them off we need to hurry!” with a nod they all run back to Spade. Spade breathes heavy as he stares at the last three members, the leader claps “I'm impressed by your skill for a clone, heh which means.” he walks forward, seeing this Spade gets ready to fight distracted he gets smacked by the other member. He growls as the leader grabs his ponytail and smirks down at him “You're nothing but a plague, you're not complete but I can complete you!” hearing this Spade reaches for the knife hidden in his boot and stabs him. The man screams as his grip weakens giving Spade a chance to escape the man, he was feeling panic build up in him. He was weak from all the fighting, he wasn't sure he was able to keep this up, he got up growling again as his mind flashes to SMG4. He blinks surprise by that “Wha…four…grr I DONT KNOW WHAT YOU FUCKERS WANT BUT YOU CANT HAVE ME!”

The leader pulls out the knife glaring at Spade, before he can make another move they hear a gunshot. They turn to see SMG3 standing holding his gun “I suggest you leave,” he points the gun at him making the man clap as the last standing members go to pick up their teammates before leaving. Three holds his side as he walks over to Spade “You okay?” he gets a chuckle out of the personality as he drops to the floor “I’m perfect, i mean did you see the other guys?” Three lets out a chuckle and nods as he bends down checking Spade for wounds to help care for, Heart frowns seeing the state Spade is in. Book shakes his head “We need to fuse now, things are getting dangerous. Whatever happened to cause all this came from the cherry power up, we don't know how it got us but as long as we are out and about we are in danger.” Book looks down, shaking.

SMG3 finished taking care of Spade “Your right we need to get this over with this day has been long, now we have this strange experiment with cherry powers..i don't want to deal with this shit.” Heart glares at them shaking his head, he knew what he was going to say was crazy but he had to say it he won't be ignored again. Spade seeing the conflict in Hearts eyes he nods with a small smile, seeing this Heart speaks up “I don't want to fuse yet! I know it's risky and not logical but everytime we follow your lead Book we regret the choice, we lost Terrance and by logic we shouldn't have let him get close but it happened!” Book sighs looking at Spade, seeing that everyone was now looking at him to give the final answer he thinks over what happened. The moment he thought he was going to die he could only think about SMG4, the regret that he ever knew how he felt. He blushes as he looks down “I….i want to confess to that idiot, uh not because of what heart said! I..when i thought it was the end for me all i could think about was that dumbass, then i realized i regret him not knowing how we felt…original i know it sucks but lets confess to SMG4.” Three’s eyes go wide hearing Spades words, he looks at Book then at Heart letting out a sigh he nods “Ugh fine, let's do this before i change my mind!”

Heart smiles and nods “Bad news, given we are being hunted doing a normal confession won't really work. We need the crew,” hearing this Spade and Three stand up blushing “NO WAY!” they both shout. Before they knew it the personalities were sitting in the cafe waiting for Three to collect the crew members that he trusted with this mission of love. Three sighs as he walks to the cafe shaking, he turns, giving his friends an awkward smile “I brought you here cause I know you guys can handle this, don't freak out but this morning i was drinking coffee when i felt off. I passed out and I woke up to three other versions of me. A lot happened today and I need your help with…ugh as my heart likes to call it operation gay.” Meggy nods giving a supportive smile at him “Yeah you said some guys were after you cause of it, so where are they? What are we helping with?” Three opens the door nervous on how they would react.

Heart seeing the door open runs out excitedly “Hey silly’s! The name is Heart. I'm the romance trait of SMG3!” Meggy’s eyes go wide seeing Heart smile at them, Melony gets excited and takes his hand “You look so cute!” Heart smiles at the comment showing off his pink overalls. Tari awes at seeing the other Three, it reminded her of the time she met other versions of herself. Then spade walked out glaring at the crew, Meggy seeing the way he was dressed was a blast from the past “Are you supposed to be Three’s villain side?” Spade rolls his eyes “Yep, guess that's why you're labeled as the smart one huh squid? I'm Spade the evil trait of SMG3.” hearing the other two do their intro Book gets up and walks out. Tari waves at Book as he gives a small smile “Hello im Book the logical side of SMG3, while i'm not a fan of this i have no choice in the matter. Do you all know the plan?” The three of them shake their heads, making Book look at Three. SMG3 felt himself break into a sweat seeing the personalities waiting for him to explain the plan, he really wished they just fused and forgot this whole confession.

He looks around then sighs blushing as he holds himself as he looks down. “I…i want to confess my crush on SMG4, but i need some stuff in order to do it. So I need each of you to protect my personality while they get the things I need.” The girls stay quiet for a moment before running to hug SMG3. The man can feel his face go a darker shade of red as the girls hug him “Aw Three i knew you liked Four! OF COURSE WE WILL HELP!” Meggy’s words made him feel even more embarrassed by the admission of his feelings. Heart giggles at the display while Spade watches in horror, Book taps the girls to get their attention. “We are losing sunlight, we need to get the items to get this confession done by tomorrow.” With a nod they separated and walked out of the showgrounds leaving SMG3 back at the cafe to write his confession. Heart was looking around the shops excited as Tari jogs to catch up to the personality “Okay Tari, our mission is to find the perfect flowers for Blue!” she smiles and nods “You seem to really like Four!” Heart nods “Of course! He may have been an asshole to us in the past but his growth really made us see him in a different light, he..may have ruined our life but he made up for it by saving us later on.” he gets excited seeing fresh roses. Tari smiles softly at the sight then notices something from the corner of her eye, she turns and sees someone staring at them. Nervous, she grabs Heart hand. “We should go in, someone is watching us.” with a nod they step into the store to buy some roses for Four.

Spade and Melony walk around the shopping center trying to find a place for them to get the ingredients for spade to make fireworks. Melony was looking around excitedly when she had a chance to look at new beds, Spade chuckles as he gently grabs her arm to help her keep focus “Come on Mel we have a job to do, but maybe if you do good helping me make these fireworks i will help you with bed shopping.” She cheers as they enter a shop to get what they need. As they step outside both of them turn, seeing someone staring at them, Spade growls showing his teeth as Melony summons her sword glaring at the men watching, they jump up in panic and run off. Meggy watches as Book pays for the paper and colorful pens for SMG3 to write his notes on, looking around she decides to ask the man something “So you have no idea how you three came to be? If this could happen to any of us?” Book grabs the bag with their items as he thinks over the events earlier. “All we know is that something called a cherry power up is the cause but we don't know anything else other than that. I have gone over my notes and I can't figure this out.” Meggy hums thinking then snaps her fingers “Why not ask Mario and Luigi those guys are always eating power ups!”

Book smiles nodding his head “Your right, we can get the original to ask why didn't i think of our avatar!” As they stepped outside two men were waiting for them. One grab Book by surprise, Meggy was going to take her splatgun out but gets knocked out by a third one that was hiding, Book glares at the men “I won't tell you anything, so do your worst!” The men laugh as they get ready to tie up Book. As they reach for him a bomb gets thrown in front of them, they scream as it explodes blinding the men. Spade dashes through the smoke grabbing Book and Meggy while Melony knocks out the men. “Your fucking lucky there was a bed shop here and we found you both in time,” Book shaken up hugs Spade making the personality blush “geez it wasnt that bad you big baby!” he pats Books head as Melony comes back with the bag of stuff that Meggy and Book bought.

They head back to the cafe to see SMG3 sitting at the table freaking out, Heart walks up to him gently giving him the bag of items “Now you can write your feelings down, then we see what the future holds…since we will be back home for that.” hearing those words made him frown. It's been a day with these three personalities all he wanted was them gone so he can live his day, with everything happen he notice it felt nice to be near others he can just be himself with.Thinking more on them going back he notice he was going to mess the chaos of these three being with him, he takes the bag “It’s weird, i think when this is over i'm going to miss you guys.” he looks at the personality as they all give sad smiles at him. Heart lets out a soft giggle “We will still be with you silly, just close your eyes and feel.” SMG3 looks at the color pens and hands three of them to the personalities. They look at him confused. “Write one sentence to Four, it is our confession so you guys should have a word in to.” They smile as they take a piece of paper and write their line. He could feel his heart race as he took out his phone sending a message to SMG4 to hang out, he waited as he watched the dots on the screen disappear and reappear as Four texted back. Then the text he was waiting for “Sure let’s hang out at the castle,” Three felt his face go red as he thought to himself if they can really pull this confession off.

As time moves forward, Three gathers all the notes for the confession and reads through them. He can do this, he looks at the others giving him thumbs up as he gets ready to see Four “Wish me luck!” He walks over to the castle, he opens the door letting out a shaky breath as he walks to Fours room. SMG4 turns around and runs up to him excitedly “I see your feeling better now! I got some fresh memes just for you so we can keep spirits up! Three lets out a soft smile “cool but i called to hang out for something else, it's important.” Four nods sitting on his bed giving his full attention to him, he takes out his notes shaking “ugh this is going to suck ahem i wrote my thoughts down so here we go. SMG4 the reason I'm standing in front of you is because my heart was annoying and wouldn't do things my way, it may seem like i'm lying when i say this but know its the truth.” He blushes then looks up to see Four focus on him. “I have fallen for you and I know how gay of me but I couldn't help it. Getting to know you I found out how amazing you are and it hit me hard seeing everything you do. You captured my attention and no matter how much logic i put in it..i can't find the explanation as to why. We aren't just linked because of our guardian powers but everything we went through together..i care deeply for you and i hope you feel the same.”

SMG4's face was bright red hearing the confession, he let out a shy smile taking the confession in. Three could feel his whole body shaking from his nerves, unable to stand it he was going to leave. Seeing this Four jump up and grab him “WAIT!” They stand there frozen, after a few moments SMG3 awkwardly turns around to see Four still red in the face “I care deeply about you too.” Three’s eyes go wide, they smile at each other before going in for a hug. Back at the cafe Spade and Book were drinking coffee and chatting, while Heart was looking out the window. He felt himself glow along with a warmth he had never felt before, he smiled widely looking at the castle “We did it!”

#Love Confessions #Enemies to friends to lovers #Romantic comedy #fluff and angst #smg4 #smg34 #smg3 #shygirl4991 #smg4 smg3 #smg43 #smg34 fanfiction #alianarepasa #tw blood

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ithinkilikeit-reactions · 1 year

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Sea Superstitions //Kim Hongjoong//

Ateez Masterlist Group Masterlist

Tags: Pirate!Ateez, Cursed captain Hongjoong x afab reader, cursing, yelling, fighting, mentions of death, blood

Smut tags: no power dynamics, laughing, oral (reader receiving), kissing, scratching, nipple play

Word Count: 8831

This was it, this was the moment he had worked so hard for. The moment that made the demeanor of the man change from one who simply loved the sea, to one who wanted power, fame, riches and glory. This was the moment that changed Hongjoong.

Ever since he had caught wind of the treasure there was a shift in the captain. There was even a shift in the crew, they could all feel it. Their captain was drifting, losing his mind slowly, no longer listening to reason and no longer listening to the crew he once considered family. Hongjoong was stricken with greed and it had changed him through and through. As much as the crew hated it, they couldn’t bring themselves to leave. Not only would Hongjoong have killed them with this new demeanor, they still loved him. The crew was a family, despite all the changes.

“You see this, men?” Hongjoong asked, passing the torch in his hands over to Seonghwa. It was damp in the cave, the few torches among his crew being quite dim. “This is what we’ve been working for.” Seonghwa exchanged looks with some of the crew members standing in the front. This was what they were working for, Hongjoong wasn’t wrong… it just wasn’t for themselves. The money would have been nice, but the whole crew was simply hoping this find would bring their captain back.

Hongjoong leaned over the chest, brushing the dirt and dust off of the markings over the top. It was clear no one had been here in hundreds of years and that thought alone brought Hongjoong joy. His finger tips glided over the top, reading the markings carefully only and only hesitating for a moment. “This treasure belongs to one, those who are not the rightful owner shall face the consequences.” He read to himself, keeping his voice hushed. He was no stranger to curses or legends, he wasn’t one to necessarily believe them either. The sea was a vast place and it was only natural for people to speculate about what they haven’t seen. Even with this is mind, Hongjoong was being naïve and broke the lock to the chest.

It was like an anvil struck him on the head, pulling him to the hard ground with force. Screaming as it felt as if his head was splitting apart, lifting his hands to his head and tugging at the hair. The pain was white hot, absolutely blinding, excruciating as he writhed in pain. Only for it all to stop and his vision to go black.

Hongjoong woke up to the feeling of swaying that he was all too familiar with, eyes opening to the ceiling of his captain’s quarters. He was back on his ship and while the pain he had felt earlier had almost fully subsided, there was still a part of his head that was hurting. All that didn’t matter though, he had found the treasure and it was his.

He pushed through the doors of his quarters and onto the deck, ignoring the aches he was feeling as he did so. The crew were shooting him looks as he walked to his first mate with excitement.

“Captain, you’re awake.” Seonghwa said, voice small. He hadn’t thought that the captain would wake up so quickly, not after what the crew had witnessed, not after the pain he was in. “Where is it?” Hongjoong asked, looking around the deck to see if he could spot the treasure. “Where is it, Seonghwa?” He pressed, voice getting stern as he saw his crewmember’s expression shift. “I didn’t think it was wise… bringing it on board.” Seonghwa started, a feeling of pure rage filling Hongjoong. Without a thought, Hongjoong grabbed Seonghwa’s collar and pushed him into the railing of the ship.

Seonghwa’s jaw clenched as he saw the expression on his captain’s face. The enraged and deranged look in his eyes as he nearly tossed his closest friend off of the ship. “You left it behind?” He yelled, tightening his grip. “Everything I worked for!” He added on and the tone of his voice darkened. The crew could only stand back and watch, the captain they had known and loved for years having become someone they didn’t recognize. “Everything you worked for?!” Seonghwa yelled in return, pushing back against his captain’s hands and away from the railing. “What about us?! What about the crew that has done nothing but work for you?! Look at yourself, Hongjoong! You were selfish and now you’re cursed.” Seonghwa yelled back, pushing Hongjoong away from him fully. The captain stumbled back, eyebrows furrowing at his words.

“Cursed?” His tone had softened quite a bit and he reached for his head. That dull ache from earlier now a throbbing pain. “That chest was guarded by a curse. Placed on it to protect it from people like you, people with the wrong intentions and well look at you.” Seonghwa explained, though he didn’t know before the captain had attempted to open the chest.

Mingi came running onto the deck with a small mirror in his hands. He handed it over to Hongjoong with an apologetic look on his face before sinking back into the crowd of crewmembers.

The captain lifted the mirror to his face and as much as he didn’t want to admit it, he was scared. He came face to face with himself, not seeing any marks on his face at first glance. Only to notice the thin strip of hair on the side of his head that had turned white. “Hongjoong, I think you’re dying.” Seonghwa said softly, no longer feeling anger towards his captain but sympathy. The man had obviously lost his mind, however in this split moment he was the captain he had signed up for.

Ever since you were a child you found yourself fascinated by the sea, painfully so almost. Seeing the world while riding the waves had been your dream for your entire life and you weren’t one to give up easily. The only problem was, you didn’t have enough money for your own ship and well most captains weren’t ready to have a woman aboard due to the superstitions.

It took you a long time but you had found a captain hesitantly willing to take you on board. He captained a decent sized transport ship, taking you on under the guise that you could work alongside the rest of the crew… much to their disdain. The crew let their fear be known around you, coupled with their hatred for you. You understood the superstition: a woman on board angers the sea gods and brings bad luck. However you didn’t understand how this could spark so much anger because nothing unlucky had for the 4 months you had been on board and working just as hard as the others.

Your morning had started like any other, scooping up stew into your bowl and walking on deck with the other crew members. As you sat down next to them, they stood up and wandered to sit somewhere else. Letting out a sigh, you gulped down your stew before carrying on with your duty that currently consisted of tying knots to create a fishnet.

“There’s a storm approaching, that’s your doing.” One of the crew members snarled as he walked past you. It was almost amusing at this point, these remarks. Almost as amusing as the time they had tried to throw you overboard in rougher water to “get rid of the bad luck”. You could imagine if there was a storm coming that another threat your life would be made and that paranoia had most definitely distracted you for the rest of the day. So much so, that it took the pirate ship being right in front of you to believe it was real.

It felt unreal, like you had been reading a novel and visualizing it all. The way the pirates boarded the ship with ease, swords in hand and threatening the crewmember’s and the captain’s lives. You were frozen in your spot, not able to move or fight. Especially not after seeing the way the other crew members were easily disarmed and injured. It simply took one particularly tall pirate spotting you for you to drop the fishnet and raise your arms. You were armed, the knife in your boot serving more of a purpose for work rather than protection but you had decided it would be unwise to even try it. The rest of the crew was too far gone anyways.

Huddled together in 2 groups with ropes binding you all together, you watched as the pirates loaded the more valuable transport on to their ship. Your captain was stood next to you and there was a small wound on his cheek from fighting. You could tell he was seething, knowing that even if the pirates left them alive the stolen cargo would cost him and the crew a lot of money.

“The royal navy will be after you in no time, you know that.” Your captain remarked, making some of the pirates scoff before continuing their work. “Why don’t you let us worry about that.” An almost sing-song voice made you divert your attention the plank connecting the ships.

He had an odd look to him, the man you presumed was their captain. With hair that was almost half white and half brown, sharp yet tired eyes and a dominating stature, he was singlehandedly the most unique man you had ever seen. Maybe he was even beautiful, no he was most definitely beautiful, just in your current position you couldn’t see it.

“This is all your fault.” One of the crewmembers hissed, voice full of venom as he looked towards you. The pirate captain turned his head, having heard the remark before wandering over to you all. “How is it her fault?” The man asked, hands on his hips and looking at you. Not giving your crewmate an ounce of attention as he spoke to him. His face was close to yours, making your heartrate speed up. Never in a million years had you thought you would be face to face with a pirate captain.

“You know why… it’s bad luck. A woman on board, ridiculous. The sea god’s aren’t kind to sailors with women on board.” The crewman spewed and you looked to the deck. He was making you feel ashamed and if you all managed to live through this day, you knew you would be fish bait the next day. The crew would want nothing to do with you.

“I don’t believe in bad luck.” The pirate captain remarked, tilting your chin back up. The action made you swallow thickly, making you more and more nervous than before. You had never heard good news of pirates, this interest in you could mean nothing but bad things.

“How about you, doll? Do you believe in this superstition?” He asked, genuinely curious. It was rare to see a woman in your position, especially this far out in the sea and with a crew that seemingly hated you. You were too scared to answer, lip quivering slightly while his hand was still on your chin. “You don’t, do you? Otherwise you wouldn’t be here.” The man let go of your chin and walked towards your captain. “Captain, I’m going to do you a favor. On top of all of these lovely supplies, you will also be giving me your bad luck.” You whipped your head in his direction, eyes going wide. The remark wasn’t nearly as surprising as your reaction to it.

“You’ll be doing us a favor.” One of the crewmen spat and you felt yourself go numb. The pirates could brutally murder you for all they cared and well, it was making you feel like it was what you deserved. Your expression dropped and you continued to stare at the floor, even as the pirates let you go from your bindings. “Go grab your things.” The pirate captain demanded, surprising you further.

It took you 10 minutes to be stood on the deck of your new home, the planks connecting the 2 ships being retracted and your old crew still tied up on the deck. The pirates didn’t seem too worried about the thought of them breaking free and chasing after them. If there was one thing you knew, it was ships and it was clear as day that the pirate ship could outrun a simple transport ship any day.

“Do you think you were the bad luck on that ship?” One of the pirates asked, looking at you with big eyes and a concerned expression. He was young and had a sweet yet mischievous glint in his eye. “The only bad luck on that ship was the crew’s bad attitude.” You remarked, dropping your bag from your shoulder. “Don’t worry, I don’t think I brought the bad luck with me.” You added on, no longer looking at the younger pirate but watching as the captain walked along the deck. “We’ve had plenty of bad luck ourselves. Doubt the upcoming bad luck we inevitably will have has anything to do with you.” An older pirate interjected, politely. “Seonghwa, first mate.” He introduced while reaching for your things. “Y/N, supposed bad luck.” You responded, watching the two crack a smile. You were almost sure you were going to be a captive on board the ship, hostage to unruly, rude pirates. Though your preconceptions were entirely wrong, this was a warmer welcome than you had ever received on the other ship.

“I thought I would be a captive here.” You remarked, Seonghwa raising an eyebrow to you. “Well what’s the point in that. No use in having you waste away in a cell when you’re useful.” Seonghwa explained, placing a hand on your shoulder. “You’re here because the captain sees a use for you and well that means something. Now let me show you around.”

It seemed like with every day, the pirate captain’s health declined. Stumbling around the ship, his tired eyes seeming more and more exhausted as the day went by. Today was no exception and you couldn’t help yourself but watch as he stumbled, sitting on the stairs to the top deck.

“Hey, look alive.” Mingi said, shoving you slightly as you had stopped your movements pulling the rope which were admittedly a team effort. “Sorry.” You quickly shot back, gripping it again and pulling with him. “What’s on your mind?” He asked as you worked, making you sigh. There had been a lot on your mind, mainly the captain not seeming well but also the crew dancing around him. They seemed scared of him on some days and like closest friends on others.

“Is the captain alright?” You started, finally feeling confident enough to air your concerns. The crew had taken you in as one of their own and Mingi had seemed to be your closest friend so far (next to Seonghwa, of course)meaning you weren’t scared to pry. “I mean, he seems… ill.” You added on, not looking at him and focusing on your work. “You’re not wrong, Captain Hongjoong is well- I’m not quite sure ill is the right word for it.” His response left you more confused than before and you simply turned and raised an eyebrow at him.

“Look, you’re new here and it’s hard to explain. We don’t normally have to explain it, we’ve all seen it and well it’s not easy to believe if you haven’t seen it.” Mingi was trying to explain yet having such difficulty finding the words. “The captain’s cursed. Dying slowly from the inside due to greed.” Mingi hesitated, seeing the way your expression changed. “And I know how that sounds. But you have to believe me.” He added on and you waved your hand, dismissing what he said.

“It’s not that I don’t believe you.” You said, glancing back at the captain who was sat on the stairs. Captain Hongjoong was seemingly the first person to see something more in you and he was dying. Maybe you did bring bad luck with you. “I just don’t want too.” You admitted, choking back your emotions and getting back to work.

That evening, not even the gentle rocking of the sea could put you to sleep. Everything you had learned that day, from the way to do simple repairs around the ship to Hongjoong's curse. You simply couldn't sleep and found yourself wandering to the top of the deck.

Something about the night sky coupled with the vast sea, not another living being in sight was oddly comforting. Isolation was something you welcomed every now and again and this was one of those moments. It was a moment for you to gather the thoughts that had been swimming around your mind the entire day.

"Surely if there was a curse there was a way to break it? How did he come across this curse in the first place? What did Hongjoong do?"

You let out a sigh, only to hear a throat clearing behind you. "You should be sleeping." Hongjoong remarked and leaned against the railing next to you. "I'm having a hard time sleeping. Too many thoughts." You admitted, purposefully avoiding his gaze. The captain made you nervous, despite his maybe misplaced belief in you. He was an oddly beautiful man and all of the flaws that came with the curse didn't do a good job of hiding that.

"What's on your mind?" He asked as it was quite obvious it was weighing on your mind heavily. He cared for you, in an odd way. It was the way you didn't let people's misconceptions stop you from doing anything. You were brave and he admired that.

"Well if there's a curse, there must be a way to break it, no?" You asked, still staring at the gentle waves below you. Hongjoong's expression dropped and he felt almost as if a sudden weight was placed on his chest. "Who told you about the curse?" His voice raised slightly, not seeing why you had the right to know in the first place. Maybe it was the pain the curse brought him or the mental toll it had taken on him, but he was enraged. “I just noticed things and asked about it.” You explained, a wave over fear travelling through your body. You didn’t think you would get a response like this, it was obvious he wasn’t feeling well and it was natural to ask questions.

“You think I haven’t tried breaking the curse?” Hongjoong’s voice raised even more and you took a step back. You were scared, this sudden switch that had flipped in Hongjoong’s personality. “Of course I’ve tried breaking the curse, there is no breaking the curse!” You took another step back, seeing the blind anger in Hongjoong’s eyes. “I’m sorry, I just thought-“ Your words were cut off. “No you didn’t think. Get out of my sight, your no use to the crew if you’re too tired to pick up a task. Learn to stay in your place.” His voice was filled with nothing but venom and suddenly you were starting to understand Mingi’s hesitation earlier. You opened your mouth to speak once again only to bite back, having nothing more of value to say. You simply swallowed your words and turned on your heels to go back to bed, not that you would be able to sleep at all.

Hongjoong was on edge the entire day, he could feel himself reverting back to his old ways. The way he was before the curse, filled with greed and anger. He didn’t mean for it, not at all. He absolutely hated himself like this but he couldn’t help it. They years had turned him into a cold man by nature and the curse wasn’t helping. In all honesty, the pirate captain was terrified. He wasn’t ready to die at all and he was becoming impatient.

This in mind, everything the crew did was irritating him. The knots were wrong, the ship wasn’t moving fast enough and the sails weren’t catching enough wind, not that the crew could realistically do anything to please him in this moment, nothing could please him. So you kept your distance, not wanting to fuel the fire anymore that you already had. You knew you were the cause of this outburst and the he was now yelling at Mingi was making you feel incredibly guilty.

“This is all wrong!” The younger man hung his head as the captain yelled. It had the attention of everyone working, though they didn’t stop what they were doing. Simply, listening with open ears as the exchange went down. You however couldn’t help but stand and stare. “I don’t know why I even bother keeping any of you around. All you do is bother me.” Hongjoong snarled, venomous words most definitely leaving a mark on tender hearted Mingi.

It wasn’t until Hongjoong grabbed Mingi’s collar that you felt yourself step forward, words hurt but there was no need for physical altercation. Seonghwa beat you however, stepping between the two and pushing the captain to the side. “It was all going so well, what’s gotten into you?” The first mate yelled. It seemed Seonghwa had no fear of Hongjoong anymore, like this wasn’t the first time he’s had an outburst. “People prying where they shouldn’t!” Hongjoong grumbled, glancing back to you. You were aware this was your fault, you never would have asked had you known.

You took a step back again, turning to walk away from the situation as you felt you had caused enough trouble. That was until you saw Hongjoong take a swing in Seonghwa’s direction and losing balance. The sickness in him was stronger than he was and that was evident, the captain stumbled back. Trying to brace himself on a crate only to slip and knock a glass lamp over, falling into the shards. Now Hongjoong didn’t only feel like he was dying, he felt humiliated.

The shards had pierced the skin on his chest, arms and hands and he looked around the deck. He was stunned, feeling ashamed of himself and wondering why his brain made him act this way. His crew was looking at them with mixed feelings, pity, shame, fear, he could feel it all. As he looked up at his crew with pained eyes and bloodstained hands, he wanted to yell, dive off the side of the boat and hope it would take care of everyone’s problems.

“Captain.” Your voice was soft, pushing through the crew and crouching next to him. Your face, your expression, it made him conflicted. He hated it, the softness of it, the worry in your expression and the adoration in your eyes, it absolutely disgusted him but it was exactly what he wanted. “Come on, get up.” You said, maneuvering your way around the broken glass and helping him up. “Don’t help me.” Hongjoong snarled and his tone of voice hurt your feelings, but you ignored. “Don’t fight it.” You said quietly in response, pulling his weak body to his feet. “Don’t feel pressured, Y/N.” Seonghwa leaned over to say softly in your ear and well as much as you didn’t want to feel this way, you did. “I do anyways.” You remarked and continued to walk with Hongjoong, supporting his every step as you carefully walked to the door of the captain’s quarters. You ignored the whispers and murmurs from the ship deck and against better judgement, you wandered below the deck into the captain’s quarters.

“Go back on deck, I can take care of myself.” Hongjoong grumbled, limping away to the other side of his quarters to look in the mirror. More of his hair had turned white over the last day and he could feel it, now with this injury he had never physically felt worse. “I know I’ve done enough. But I also know that in this state, there’s no way for you to clean those injuries yourself and then they’ll get infected and then you’ll die even faster than you already are.” You felt a wave of bravery knowing he was too weak to do anything about it and well he knew it too.

“Alright.” His voice was small and his answer made you look up with wide eyes. “Please, help me.” His voice cracked at the request, not wanting to except the help but knowing he needed it. “And please for the love of god, stop looking at me like that.” Hongjoong added on and you cocked a brow at him.

“You shouldn’t be doing this.” Hongjoong said softly, flinching as you pulled a small shard of glass from his shoulder. He meant it, he was awful to you earlier and didn’t deserve the sympathy. You shook your head to yourself, knowing he couldn’t see you as his back was to you. He had pulled his blouse off and allowed you to gently remove the glass remnants, but you couldn’t take your eyes off of the little scars that littered his body. “You shouldn’t lash out the way you do.” You retorted, your hand tracing over his bare shoulder before removing another piece of glass.

“You think so?” Hongjoong was genuinely curious even though he knew you were right. He simply wanted your fresh perspective. “I know so. Look at where it gets you.” You were feeling incredibly brave in this moment, maybe it was because he felt different, he felt vulnerable. Hongjoong chuckled at your words only to wince in pain. “Besides, your crew loves you.” You started while trying to keep your touches gentle. “If they didn’t they wouldn’t have stayed this long with how you treat them. Not to mention what happened before the curse. They’d follow you to hell and back if you asked.” You found your voice getting small again. As an outsider looking in, you wouldn’t have understood the undying loyalty. Though seeing it all up close, Hongjoong was a man you could rely on despite the anger, pain and sadness he had in him. You were starting to feel that undying loyalty yourself.

“What about you?” Hongjoong asked, feeling the air of vulnerability in the room himself. Maybe it was you caring for him, or his skin being exposed to the air, or the sweet yet stern voice you took when speaking to him. “If I asked you to follow me to Hell and back?” He added on, looking back at you. Your eyes locked with him and for a moment you felt your breathing waver. His tired eyes still had a hint of life to them, a small sparkle that made your heart ache and your eyes fill with tears. “I’m a part of the crew, I guess I’ll have to.” You choked out, tearing your eyes from his to pick out the remaining shards.

Hongjoong’s heart fluttered, you were looking at him the exact way he told you not to and he had to bite back tears of his own. “You know it’s not like I haven’t looked for a way to break the curse.” He recalled, thinking back to all the reading, the shamans and useless remedies he had approached. Truth be told he had given up, he was too tired to fight it anymore and that was why he let the negative feelings win. “Nothing has worked.” He paused and looked up to the ceiling, blinking back the tears that had rapidly begun to form. “I’m scared of dying.” He confessed, not having told anyone this before.

You didn’t realize it until you felt the tears drop that you were crying, wiping them away quickly as you listened to his confession. Your heart absolutely ached for him and you wanted nothing more than to hug him, hold him close, make his problems go away. However you held back, taking a cloth from a basin filled with water and gently dabbing it over his back before bandaging him.

“I don’t want to die.” Hongjoong’s voice cracked, tears quietly rolling down his cheeks as he allowed himself to be taken care of by you. You tied off the bandage and moved to stand in front of him, looking him in his eyes again and wiping his tears away. “I don’t want you to die either.” You admitted and he could see how much his words had affected you, the tear stains over your cheeks giving you away. “Now, you should rest. The argument took a lot out of you.” Your voice was caring yet demanding, making Hongjoong smile.

“Are you telling your captain what to do?” He asked, taking your hand in his, the action making your knees feel weak. “I might be.” You laughed slightly, enjoying the feeling of this intimate moment. If this was what the captain was like before, your heart could only ache for what he was yet to become. “Alright.” Hongjoong pushed up from his seat, using you as support as he did so. Your arm wrapping around his bare torso, fingertips tickling over his skin. “If you’re giving me the order to rest.” Hongjoong realized that this meant the moment would be over and he truly didn’t want that. It had been a long time since anyone had cared for him like this, or wept for him and he wanted it to last. “I’m giving you the order to lay with me.” It caught you off guard, making blood rush to your cheeks and you bite the inside of your lip. Despite this, you didn’t want to say no.

Hongjoong found himself with his head on your chest, your blouse slightly bunched up as his hands settled under the fabric and on your bare hips. The warmth and softness of your body providing a comfort to him he hadn’t had in years, especially as one of your hands traced gentle shapes over the nape of his neck while the other toyed with his mismatched hair. Anyone who would walk in in this moment could feel that there was nothing but adoration in the room, a mutual respect between someone needing care and someone willing to provide it. It was something the captain would have regarded as more intimate than sex, entirely more vulnerable to him as he gave away his control to you. He felt rested, relaxed even, the sense of impending doom having shrunk drastically by the feeling of your care. Hongjoong didn’t want it to end and well if it was up to you, it wouldn’t have to. You could have stayed there for the rest of your life and been perfectly content.

The comfortable weight of Hongjoong's body on yours was nowhere to be found the next morning. Admittedly you had hoped to wake up together, wanting to talk more, feel his soft hair between your fingers for a little longer. Much to your dismay though, the bed was empty and you felt cold.

You pushed your way through the quarter’s doors and onto the deck. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you avoiding bumping into some members and headed directly to Seonghwa who was looking at you expectingly. His expression was hard to read, somewhere between happy and confused as he urged to you come over. You wandered over, equally as confused yourself as the crew exchanged questioning looks as you passed.

“What did you do last night?” Seonghwa asked, his tone nearly accusatory. “What do you mean? I just cleaned the cuts last night and he asked me to stay with him… nothing happened.” Your voice trailed off at the end, slightly embarrassed that you had made the choice to stay and not wanting to deal with the possible judgement. “And that’s it? Nothing else?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest. You were about to ask what was going on when you heard laughter from the top deck, turning around to see where it came from.

Hongjoong stood behind the ship’s wheel, something you had never seen him do, he always seemed too weak for it. His skin that previously had a grey tint to it was now warm with a golden hue to it and his eyes seemed lively. The dark circles under his eyes having lightened up and that faint sparkle you had noticed before was more prominent. Hongjoong didn’t look like he was dying, or like the dark cloud was hovering over his head.

“He’s been so energetic since he woke up, vibrant even. Like the man I used to know before treasure ever came into the mix. He doesn’t seem… sick.” Seonghwa remarked, now smiling as he looked at his old friend. “I really did nothing.” Nothing aside from take care of him, you thought to yourself before looking back at the captain. Seeing him like this, like he was almost glowing in comparison to a few hours earlier made your heart feel full. Hongjoong was so incredibly beautiful.

“Good morning.” His voice was sing song-ish, making you smile instantly. “Good morning.” You said in return, leaning against a crate and simply looking at him. Hongjoong had sense all the looks that morning, he was getting the same look from you now and well normally he would be irritated but he felt too good now for that. “I haven’t felt this good in a long time.” Hongjoong started, explaining how for the first time in forever it felt like his heart was beating. “I can’t help but think it has something to do with you.” He added on and you looked away, towards the sea in embarrassment. “That being said, I think we should celebrate.” Hongjoong raised his voice, leaning over the railing to get everyone’s attention.

“Wooyoung, kitchen is yours tonight. Make something good. Mingi, Yunho and San, I think it’s time to have those barrels of rum see the light of day again, don’t you?” You could see the joy on the crew’s faces at not even the captain’s words, but his overall tone. He sounded so joyful. “Aye, captain!” They called in response and you felt yourself smile. The captain turned to you again, still smiling and making your heart absolutely pound. However, not as much as it was during the dinner.

The sea was quiet, the weather was pleasant and the crimson colored sky had set a soft mood over the ship. That coupled with Hongjoong’s new found energy, it felt like the way you had always imagined the sea and a crew. Truly like a family, especially as the rum flowed. Not that you were entirely partial to rum, you had a few sips and watched as the rest of the crew drank and laughed. Especially as the conversation turned into talks about dancing.

“In all the years I’ve known you, I’ve never seen you get remotely close to a woman. Let alone close enough to dance with one.” Seonghwa laughed, gesturing at the captain who sat with a sulking expression. “I’ve had my time, you know you’re lying.” Hongjoong retorted, pointing at his first mate who was laughing. “I mean, the first woman I’ve seen you talk too in years is Y/N.” Wooyoung backed up the conversation as he leaned over the pot filled with food. Hongjoong let out a sigh, putting his glass down and standing up. His eyes locked with yours, the sparkle in his eyes showcasing the mischief he was conjuring.

Approaching you, you raised an eyebrow in question as he sauntered your way. “You look lonely, may I ask you to dance?” Hongjoong asked, making you and the rest of the crew laugh. “Are you asking me because you want some credit with the crew or because you really want to?” You asked, regaining your composure and looking him dead in the eyes. He smiled, placing his hands on his hips and pushing his long coat out of the way. The crew watched as their captain leaned down to you, placing his lips by your ears to fluster you even more. “Because I really want to.” He whispered and your eyes darted around the table, trying to make sure no one could see how this was flustering you.

Hongjoong extended his hand to you and you took it, hesitating a little before deciding to put your all into this. You were pulled to your feet and directly into his arms, oohs and ahs coming from the crew. His hand swiftly found your waist and you were pressed flush against his chest. The warmth coming from his body more intense than the night prior and he seemed less vulnerable now, especially as you locked eyes with him.

The captain guided you across the deck of the ship, holding you as close as he possibly could. The dancing wasn’t perfect, it didn’t need to be. Sure this started as Hongjoong proving a point to his friends but now that didn’t matter anymore. The only thing mattered now was that feeling inside his chest that he got when being this close to you, he felt normal. He felt like there was nothing wrong with himself. Your breath fanned over his neck, tickling him slightly as he adjust his grip on your waist. Yes you were being watched but it didn’t feel like it, in both of your minds the ship was empty and it was just the two of you.

Hongjoong felt the same, tucking his face in your neck and kissing over your skin. This wasn’t an innocent dance anymore and that was clear to your body. Your skin now getting coated with goosebumps.

“If you want to do that, can we go to the captain quarters?” You said soft enough, now feeling a certain need for him. It wasn’t like you hadn’t felt yourself falling for the captain earlier, but this was different. You absolutely needed him and if he was going to tease you like this, he might as well follow through.

He looked at you with that mischievous glint in his eyes, the same one he had when he boarded your prior ship. The same look he had when he stole you away or better put, saved you. If this was his personality when feeling good, you never wanted to leave. You wanted to make him feel as good as you possibly could… in every way.

“Come on.” The captain smiled, grabbing your hand and tugging you along towards the captain quarter’s door. You met eyes with Seonghwa on your way to the door, receiving a slight headshake coupled with a knowing smile. Not only that, you both managed to ignore the cheers coming from the rest of the crew as it seemed Hongjoong really didn’t care. He had one thing on his mind and that was you and how euphoric you were making him feel. He could only imagine how he would feel after this.

It took no two seconds for you to be pressed into the mattress, the same mattress you had comforted him to sleep on no 24 hours prior. Only this time it was entirely different, instead of pure love and care, this was lust. Hongjoong wanted to absolutely ruin you, knowing it would make him fill with life again.

Your eyes met for a moment, his eyes flickering down to your lips before finally connecting them. The kiss was gentle, his lips soft and plush against yours. You couldn’t help but whimper at the feeling as it wasn’t anything you had expected. The feared captain being so sweet in this way, it made your knees weak. Hongjoong shared the feeling, your sweet whimper being near enough to make him come undone right then and there without even touching you yet.

“God, you make me feel-“ He started, not even quite being able to find the words to explain. Especially not as you took his face into your hands and changed your positions. Now having him underneath you, your clothed core grinding over his painfully hard cock. “Feel?” You asked, kissing his lips again and biting at them slightly. “Alive.” He admitted and his hands gripped at your hips before slowly moving up under your shirt.

The captain gently grabbed at your chest, massaging your breasts as you moaned into your kisses. He was infatuated with your responses to him, pinching your nipple and rolling it between his fingers just to hear more. Only to decide the fabric was entirely in the way, he helped you pull it off and tossed to the other side of the room. Wasting absolutely no time to latch himself onto the new skin, sitting up and holding you in place. His hand moving over your smooth back and the other arm around your waist as he wrapped his lips around your nipple. Your fingers tangled in his hair, not quite pulling the mismatched tresses but pressing him closer into you.

Hongjoong allowed his hand to move down, mapping your body roughly to make sure he wouldn’t forget it. No matter how sickly he felt, he wouldn’t forget the way you feel or the way you taste. It was so good he wanted to taste more. Carefully guiding you to lay down, pushing you back into the mattress. His fingers were swift to undo the laces of your pants, pulling them off of you the second they were loose enough and making you laugh. “We have time… Relax.” You remarked, taking in his eager expression. “I never know how much time I have left. Allow me to be eager.” He explained and his words made your heart ache. Though you couldn’t quite focus on that emotion as he kissed your inner thigh, dangerously close to your heat. Nails leaving little crescent marks on your thighs as he gripped them for leverage.

You hesitated before gently placing your hands in his hair and you could feel him smile against your thigh. “You can pull, guide me. Where do you want me?” He asked you, looking up at you. “I-“ “No-no, with your hands, guide me.” Hongjoong corrected you and you experimentally tugged his hair to pull him closer, his eyes watching you in anticipation for the next tug. When it came, he didn’t hesitate to lose himself fully. Tongue slowly gliding over your folds, hands gripping you even harder. You let your head fall back in relief of finally being touched, a soft sigh leaving your lips. His tongue prodded at your hole, savoring every bit of your juices and every sound coming out of you. Even the way you pulled his hair, directing him where you needed him was adding on to his lifespan. It was like he could feel it.

“Oh, captain-“ You moaned as his tongue moved over your slit again, now finding it’s way to your clit. Your legs wanted to close at the stimulation, his arms and head preventing you from doing so and driving you even more insane. It had been a long time since Hongjoong had serviced anyone like this and he was remembering why he enjoyed it so much. Everything about the way you tasted, your sounds and the way he could feel you slowly come undone on his tongue was intoxicating. He felt a little bit like a made man, licking and sucking at your core while your legs shook around his head. Even as you told him you were close, he found he couldn’t stop. He needed to feel it, reveling in the scream that left your mouth as you came on his tongue.

It took your hand softly pushing his head away for him to stop and sit back on his knees over you. Your chest rising and falling as you closed your legs. Hongjoong was proud of himself and you could tell, as you could see his lips glistening with your essence. You sat up and silently pulled his shirt from his body. You took the visual in, his lean, toned body, littered with small scars and small tattoos each one undoubtedly holding a story. You allowed your fingers to trace over some before settling at his own pants, untying the laces while holding eye contact. The captain’s hand held your face gently as you revealed his hard cock, sucking in air through his teeth as your fingers grazed over the tip.

Your hand wrapped around the base of his cock and you leaned forward, kissing him roughly this time. However he didn’t seem caught of guard, hand moving from your face to tangle into your hair. “Fuck-“ He hissed into the kiss, your hand pumping him now slowly. You made sure to rotate your wrist slightly as your tongue swirled around his mouth, making him wonder just what else you were capable of which could be explored another time.

It wasn’t until your thumb traced over slit that Hongjoong’s hips buck into your hands, deep moans now turning to a whimper as he felt himself get close. You pulled your lips away from his, wanting to see his body react to your touch, wanting to watch the way his abs lightly flexed with each pump of your wrist. His eyes squeezed shut before his hand shot out, gripping your wrist to stop your movements before he could finish. Despite knowing he was teasing himself, he didn’t want this to end, not yet. Not until he could bury himself deep inside of you.

He kissed you again, pulling you on top of him after deciding he wants to feel your weight on him. With one hand on your waist and one hand on your thigh, he allowed you to settle on top of him and place your hand on his chest for support.

“Slowly.” He commented as you started to sink down on him, eyes locking with his. Hongjoong had to take a deep breath, composing himself as he felt your walls squeezing him nice and snug. He could feel himself losing it and you weren’t far behind. Nails lightly digging into his chest as he was now fully seated inside you. Pressing against that delicious spot inside of you as you sat still on him. It wasn’t until Hongjoong’s hips bucked into yours, making you gasp and fall forward that you started to move. Your face now buried in his neck which gave him the opportunity to take control of the pace. Hips rocking into yours slowly at first, tip of his cock grazing that sweet spot with each movement of his hips. You were a mess to put it simply, blissed out with your eyes squeezing shut as your captain fucked you softly.

“Hongjoong-“ You moaned, lips by his ear. It made him groan, grip your hips harder and pick up his pace more. “Say my name like that again.” Hongjoong told you, his hands moving up to find purchase in your hair to pull you up slightly. You forced your eyes open as your mouth was agape. He was so beautiful with his cheeks flushed and lips plump. “Hongjoong please, captain I-“ It felt like every nerve in your body was on fire, you couldn’t even find the words anymore. With every thrust of his your body was sent closer and closer to the edge, cock hitting that spot in you fully now.

“I know.” He grumbled, pulling your lips down onto his as his hips went at a bruising pace. Now Hongjoong was simply chasing his own high, he needed it. He was so worked up and the way your sweet cunt squeezed him had him right on the edge. He was entirely right, he had never felt more alive than now.

His lips muffled your moans as you felt yourself cumming, thighs shaking and nails digging into his shoulders. He could feel it all, the way your walls pulsed being enough to send him over the edge. His lips left yours and he choked out the most beautiful sound you had ever heard as his hips stilled. The near whine replaying in your mind as you both came down from your highs.

Hongjoong shut his eyes, still seated inside you as his arms wrapped around your waist. The alcohol from earlier in the evening combined with the intense physically activity having taken a toll on him. He had felt better than ever, but he wasn’t quite what he used to be just yet. You left him inside of you as you sat up slightly, wanting to take him in again fully. The split colored hair splayed over his pillow as his shut eyes showcased his beautifully long eyelashes. Your fingers traced over his facial features and you watched his pretty lips pull into a smile.

“What are you doing?” He asked, grabbing your hand and causing you to fall forward with a laugh. You settled your head onto his chest, now simply holding his hand. “Admiring you. You’re quite beautiful you know?” You said softly and Hongjoong furrowed his brows. He never thought of himself as beautiful. Especially not after the curse, no he found himself looking haggard and tired constantly. It was an odd and new compliment to hear, though he welcomed it. He knew love could make things more beautiful than they actually were.

That was when it hit him. That expression on your face and glitter in your eye as you looked at him, it was love. It was the same look he had on his face when he looked at you. The same feeling he had in his gut when he found you on that transport ship. You weren’t bad luck at all, or the horrible coincidence of a superstition. If anything you were lucky to them, not just to Hongjoong but the entirety of the crew.

You rolled over and motioned for him to lay on top of you, to sleep the way you had before. With your fingers in his hair and head on your chest, which he quickly abided. Your body felt like home to him, your presence warm on the cold sea. He found himself falling asleep quicker than he wanted too, still wanting to talk and laugh with you. But the warm, loving space you created for him was too inviting and he was in a deep sleep before long.

That didn’t stop him waking before you though, the comforting creaking sounds of the ship being enough to do it. He carefully untangled himself from you and let out a quiet yawn. Eyes gently scanning your bare body as you slept. You may have called him beautiful the previous evening but you weren’t any less either. It left him smiling as he stood up from the bed. The board creaked beneath his feet as he stood, pulling his clothes on and stretching in the process.

Hongjoong felt amazing, even more amazing than the day before. He felt entirely normal, like he did years prior when everything was right in his world.

“Don’t leave me again like yesterday.” Your voice cut through the comfortable silence as you blinked your eyes a few times. Sleep was very much still evident in your body and your vision was slightly blurred, making out Hongjoong’s shape putting his long coat on. “Did I make the bed cold?” Hongjoong asked, a coy smile on his lips as crawled onto the bed again. His hands found your bare waist as you rubbed your eyes, blinking at him again. Though this time with a different expression on your face, shock.

“Hongjoong? You- your hair.” You said, not entirely knowing what to say. He looked amazing, absolutely glowing. His skin with a beautiful golden hue, eyes livelier than ever and his hair, his hair full, thick and entirely brown. You couldn’t help but take his face into your hands, looking him over and taking notice of the small wounds that were nowhere to be found.

Hongjoong was confused and leaned over to his desk, reaching for the mirror that he had hidden behind miscellaneous objects. A feeling of fear over his body as he did so. Your tone scared him and he didn’t want to know what he’d find when he looked at his reflection. What he did see brought tears to his eyes, nearly dropping the mirror. Your arms wrapping around him is what anchored him, looking back at you and your gorgeous smile. “I love you.” You murmured, stroking his jaw carefully and wiping the tears that fell from your own eyes away. It was like a weight lifted from your shoulders, the worry for your beloved captain’s health falling away like it was nothing at all.

Hearing you say those 3 words, it felt like a gush of fresh air through his body. Like a confirmation that this hell was over. He grabbed your face into his hands, kissing your lips quickly and pressing his forehead to yours.

“I knew you were going to be lucky to us.”

A/N: this was postponed way too long and I ended up hating it. Oh well, it’s hear now.

@rooftop-writings you wanted to be tagged right? Sorry it took so long!!

Feedback is always lovely!!

#ateez #ateez reaction #ateez smut #hongjoong #hongjoong smut

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danpuff-ao3 · 7 months

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Draco Malfoy: Rare Pair Rec List

If you know me, you know Draco is my fandom bicycle. Pass that boy around, baby! So here are a list of some of my favorite Draco-ship fics with various rare pairs! Different ships, different vibes, all kinds of goodies!

A Lesser Magic

by lq_traintracks (@lqtraintracks). Draco/Albus Severus. Rated: E. Words: 5,005. Daddy kink. Age play. Praise kink.

⭐️ Obsessed with this one. Pretty sure it will live in my brain forever.

Draco and Albus find something in each other that they can’t possibly get from anyone else.

A Room with a View in the Flowering City

by wolfpants (@wolfpants). Draco/Bill. Rated: E. Words: 1,446. Friends with benefits. Colleagues. Power imbalance. Minor Draco/Harry.

During Draco's internship at Gringotts, Bill and Draco get to know each other in surprising ways. For Bill, it's fun, but also comforting.

Reciprocity

by crystalusagi. Draco/Blaise. Rated: E. Words: 326. Dubious consent.

Draco gets more than he bargained for.

Danger in Frustration

by gracerene (@gracerene). Draco/Charlie. Rated: E. Words: 3,569. Mild dub-con. Dirty talk. Virginity. Intergluteal sex. Just the Tip.

⭐️ "Just the Tip" is one of my favorite tags!

Draco doesn't believe in sex before marriage. Charlie's found a loophole.

A Regal Affair

by FangQueen (@fangqueen). Draco/Cormac. Rated: E. Words: 5,079. Underage drinking. Underage kissing. Implied/referenced drug use. Frottage. Desk sex. Quickies.

There was nothing even all that special about Malfoy. Sure, he was pleasant enough to look at, if you liked the pointy, pale, platinum blonde sort. He had a nice arse―what could be discerned about it through those impossibly tight trousers he insisted upon wearing. And he was a decent kisser, from what Cormac could remember. Still, why all the men seemed to flock to him in droves, he thought he may never understand.

Take It In Trade

by gracerene (@gracerene). Draco/Dolohov. Rated: E. Words: 3,130. Dubious consent. Sex for favors. Power imbalance. Hogwarts 7th year.

Without a wand, and with his family out of favour with the Dark Lord, Draco finds himself in need of protection. Draco is fairly certain Antonin Dolohov will provide it, but he's not going to do it for free.

Killing Fields

by calrissian18. Draco/Firenze. Rated: M. Words: 9,938. Bestiality. Angst.

In which nothing dies but reluctance.

Walking Shadow

by ThreeSidedOrchid. Draco/Hagrid. Rated: E. Words: 4,085. Draco/Snape.

Some days after are harder than the war itself. "To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time; And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player That struts and frets his hour upon the stage And then is heard no more. It is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury Signifying nothing." (Macbeth V.v.19-28).

Brighter Than the Sun

by GoldenTruth813 (@goldentruth813). Draco/James Sirius. Rated: E. Words: 23,798. Curse Breaker Draco. Auror James. First time. Denial of feelings.

James Sirius Potter is gorgeous. He's also half Draco's age. Getting emotionally involved with him would be a complete and utter disaster. Fortunately for Draco, he's had a lifetime of practice compartmentalizing his feelings. Draco can definitely handle fucking James—young, beautiful, rash James Sirius Potter—with no strings attached.

A Persuasive Performance

by Alisanne. Draco/Kingsley. Rated: E. Words: 2,681. Draco/others. Prostitution.

It was just another night on the job for Draco until a customer came in with a very specific request.

Whatever You Can Dream Up Next

by spacekc929. Draco/Moody. Rated: E. Words: 57,505. Consensual kink. Past rape/non-con. Under-negotiated kink. Daddy kink. Age difference. Size difference. Rough/painful sex. Crying. Fear play. Aftercare. Various other kinks and warnings.

⭐️ Full of filth. 10/10.

Alastor Moody is fifty-one years old when he accepts a scrawny, traumatized, eighteen-year-old Death Eater into his home through Harry Potter’s new pet project, the Young Parolees Initiative.

AKA, the obscenely cross-generational Draco/Moody BDSM romance no one ever asked for, featuring a protective, obsessive, sadistic Alastor whose capacity for tenderness is outmatched only by his depraved imagination, and a Draco with trauma who wants nothing more than to be Alastor’s good boy.

The Ugly Duckling and the Peacock

by Vukovich (@vukovich). Draco/Neville. Rated: E. Words: 12,357. Veela Draco. Herbology Professor Neville. Potions Master Draco. Accidental bonding. Scent kink. Fluff. Angst. Humor.

“Aye,” Hagrid said, nodding somberly. “Yer a Veela, Draco. Well, a bit." -- By Thursday evening, I had managed to entirely avoid sitting near Longbottom at meals. I had only walked slowly past his classroom door three times. I’d only snuck up behind him and smelled him four times. He caught me twice. And I’d only stood outside his bedroom door at 3 AM and jerked off in my robes the one time. -- My fingers threaded through his soft hair, and he sighed into mine, and I would have stayed like that for days. “Did you write a book on Veela-fucking?” I murmured. He chuckled. “No, I just read it a few times.”

Only One Word

by EntreNous. Draco/Remus. Rated: E. Words: 7,871. Developing relationship. Daddy kink.

Remus worries far too much what Draco thinks of the differences between them, until he discovers what Draco truly thinks.

Refuge

by Indigo_Scarf (@indigo-scarf). Draco/Scabior. Rated: T. Words: 2,990. Cottagecore. Fluff. Angst. Unhappy ending. Suicidal thoughts.

After the war, Scabior has been hiding in a hut in the woods near Malfoy Manor.

Old Dogs, New Tricks

by youcantseeus. Draco/Sirius. Rated: T. Words: 14,099. Postwar. Cousin incest. Humor.

⭐️ My favorite Drarius fic!

Draco isn't gay, he just appreciates a good looking man when he sees one. Honest! And Sirius Black is a good looking man.

Shall we descend once more, my Hades

by megyal. Draco/Severus. Rated: M. Words: 10,219. Postwar. Forced bonding. Podfic available.

[From the request: Later schoolyears, possibly seventh year | In return for killing Voldemort, Draco is given to Snape, to become his concubine. (Prompt: The Myth of Persephone)

Used

by torino10154. Draco/Teddy. Rated: E. Words: 811. Forced feminization. Dubious consent. Self-hatred. Humiliation.

Teddy wants Draco to be happy but at what cost?

The Lovers

by mushroomheadgirl. Draco/Theodore. Rated: E. Words: 4,941. Friends to lovers. Hogwarts 8th year. Falling in love. Love confessions.

It started with a note and ended here: the two of you huddled together in a lumpy bed in a frigid motel room in a backwater town. Far away from the castle you used to call home. Draco’s hand wavers just over yours, and there’s a lot unsaid and a lot that could go wrong, but you silently beg him to close the distance. * A story about schoolyard notes and the confessions that sneak through the lines.

The Lemniscate, or the Nature of Infinity

by lysanatt. Draco/Viktor. Rated: M. Words: 5,582. Prostitution. Quidditch. Romance. Previous unrequited Draco/Snape.

The war is long over, but Draco Malfoy is still caught up in the loss of the man he only too late realised that he loved. Trying to forget, he finds himself immersed in Quidditch and sex -- sex for money, that is. Not all men, however, are willing to pay. Happy end romance.

Seasons Change, And So Do We

by calrissian18. Draco/Voldemort. Rated: E. Words: 6,053. Dubious consent. Pining. Minor character death. Mythology fusion: Persephone/Hades

The Malfoy boy is sixteen when he burns the Mark into him. It’s almost more than he can bear; marking something his that isn’t quite.

#danpuff recs #draco malfoy #rare pairs #draco rare pairs

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puella-1n-somn10 · 6 months

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🕊️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.

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boarjamen · 1 year

Text

In 2021, there were roughly 2,717 antisemitic incidents reported across the United States. This was a 34% increase from the year prior. Thanks to the recent rise in neo-nazi rhetoric from political figures, celebrities, and online personalities, this number is expected to increase in 2022. I see a lot of people talking about avoiding obvious dog whistles, but very few explaining how to identify them. So, that’s what I hope to do today.

WHAT IS A DOGWHISTLE?

As defined by Oxford Languages, a Dog Whistle is a subtly aimed political message which is intended for, and can only be fully understood by, a particular group. Politicians will try to manipulate their audience by using alienating phrases, and in the process, dehumanizing those they’re speaking about while also having a margin of plausible deniability. For example, let’s take the term “illegal alien”. When we think of aliens, we think of little green dudes who suck us up in flying saucers to probe our anal glands. We think of xenomorphs and The Thing, creatures that are out to get us normal folks. However, “illegal alien” is meant to refer to immigrants who migrated here through unofficial channels. These are people. Saying “these human beings need to be deported” won’t drum up as much of a response as “these illegal aliens need to be deported”.

WHAT ARE COMMON DOG WHISTLES?

Blood Libel-

An ancient superstition that Jewish people will kill non-Jews, typically babies or young people, for the purpose of drinking their blood. This myth has inspired many vampire stories, most infamously Dracula and Nosferatu, and fuels a lot of modern day conspiracies. Ever hear “these celebrities are bathing in the blood of babies to stay young”? Well, this is where that comes from. It should be noted that Romani people are often the targets of similar rumors. This is obviously untrue.

Cabal-

Similar dogwhistles include but aren’t limited to the New World Order, The Elites, Globalism, Illuminati, and the Reptilians.

The term itself stems from the word Kabbalah, which was a Jewish mystical interpretation of the Hebrew Bible. It is meant to describe a secret group of people, mainly Jews, that control the world’s governments, economies, and media. Not only is this blatantly stupid, as most of the people in power are wildly antisemitic themselves (just look at Elon Musk), but it’s also just ignoring the obvious and observable fact that corporations and money drive politics and not a secret shadowy government. We don’t need a shadow when we’re already shady.

(((echo)))-

Have you ever seen a person partially censor the name of a celebrity or a fandom they’re discussing to avoid fans coming onto the post and giving them shit for it? (For example, I’ve seen a couple people post things under tags like #lum*ty when they don’t like the ship) This is the same idea, except it’s almost exclusively used by neo-Nazis to talk about Jewish people. It saw a resurgence in popularity with the introduction of a chrome extension called the Coincidence Detector, which put these parentheses around the names of any of the over 8,000 Jewish people in their database. It was mainly used on Twitter.

Jews Killed Jesus/30 Pieces of Silver-

In the Bible, Judas, one of Jesus’ twelve disciples, was bribed by the Romans to turn in Jesus for 30 pieces of silver. Many people use that as evidence to say jews killed Jesus. However, anyone who has read the Bible can tell you, Jesus was also Jewish. And so were the rest of his disciples. And his mother. If anything, Jews birthed Jesus and made him into the man he was. Y’all should be thankful.

Not The Real Jews-

This typically refers to the black Israelite theory, where the tribes of Israel relocated to Africa once the Kingdom of Israel was destroyed. They claim Ashkenazi Jews are imposters, and that black people are the real Jews. There are certainly black Jewish people out there, and they’re lovely af and deserve all the support in the world. However, the people espousing the black Israelite theory cannot be further from the truth. Judaism originated in what is now considered the Middle East with the prophet Abraham who settled in Canaan which is what we know now as Israel/Palestine. Around 722 BC, the Assyrians conquered the northern part of the territory and forced the 10 tribes of Israel to move further up north, and the Babylonians did the same to the Tribes of Judah a little later on. Not to mention when they were eventually overtaken by Alexander the Great. For the majority of history, Judaism was focused in the northern part of the Middle East and the southern part of Europe. To reflect that, Ashkenazi Jews share the most genetic similarity to the Greeks and Turkish folks. There is no evidence to suggest that Ashkenazi Jews are in any way fake. Again this does not mean there are no black Jews, there certainly are, but you don’t have to deny the validity of the ashkenazi to prove that. They are all Jewish. Not to mention, those who espouse the black Israelite theory rarely practice Judaism themselves.

14-

This refers to the 14 words, which are "We must secure the existence of our people and a future for white children." It is typically placed in social media bios alongside 88, which stands for Heil Hitler.

SITES AND ORGANIZATIONS TO AVOID

BitChute-

An alternative to YouTube created in 2017 after the adpocolypse nuked many alt-right channels. You can find anything on here, from your average conspiracy videos titled “Why are some people seeing demonic entities after the vaccine?” with the Decorative font from MS word in the thumbnail, to ISIS beheadings and Atomwaffen recruitment videos. I am not kidding about any of those.

Daily Stormer-

A popular Neo-Nazi website and message board made by Andrew Anglin to spread antisemitic conspiracies and his weird 9/11 fanfics. It’s not used as much as it used to be, but this site played a large part in propping up figures like Milo Yianapolis who has been recently hanging out with Kanye. Which I find funny, as he admitted to wanting to fuck young boys on the Amazing Atheist’s podcast and that it was a totally normal thing. Even Ben Shapiro hated that guy from the beginning.

Parler-

Twitter but more racist.

Gab-

Twitter but more racist and more buggy.

Twitter-

This is mainly a joke but you should be very mindful that Twitter has always had a neo-Nazi problem, and it’s worse now than ever.

Twitter but owned by Elon Musk

InfoWars-

Owned and operated by Alex Jones, not only do they scam their viewers out of thousands of dollars, spread lies about mass shootings, harass innocent families who lost their loved ones in horrifying tragedies, play a key role in orchestrating the January 6th attack on the capital, but they also spread antisemitic conspiracies.

CONCLUSION

It’s important to acknowledge that absolutely anyone can fall for these dog whistles without even being aware of it. Recently, my brother started falling down this horrid rabbit hole thanks to Kanye’s rhetoric and despite everything I’ve tried to warn him about, he’s not listening. By posting this, I hope to stop at least one person from following that path. Now more than ever, we need to stand with the Jewish community and show our support. Stay safe out there.

#kanye west #antisemetism mention #antisemetism tw #jewish #hate speech #activism #ye #info wars #Twitter #elon twitter #Yeezy #alex jones

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latent-sense-of-loyalty · 3 months

Text

Ch. I

Word Count:3637

Masterlist ¤ AO3 ¤ Ko-Fi

CW: Graphic depictions of violence

AN: I'm ferally excited to begin sharing this with everyone. The idea has been in my head for a long while and now I get to put it out there! Big big thank you to @enterthedreams for proofing and just being generally amazing.

If you wish to be updated for future chapters, let me know, and I'll add you to the tags! Now, enjoy!!

“Resignedly beneath the sky

The melancholy waters lie.

So blend the turrets and shadows there

That all seem pendulous in air,

While from a proud tower in the town

Death looks gigantically down.”

-”The City in the Sea”

Edgar Allen Poe

Tendrils of smoke pooled from his mouth and nose, dancing around him. The next was a breath mixed with the midnight sea breeze, carried away towards the distant ships of the harbor. With the sounds of the old ships groaning at the docks, the occasional shout and laugh of the late night stragglers, it was almost as if the smoke had some kind of harmony to dance to. A fleeting one, as the next breeze whisked it away into the far unknown of the city.

The Gate always seemed so different at night.

If one were to excuse the robberies, murders, and other unsavory activities that seemed to thrive at this time, it was almost beautiful. But maybe, to him at least, that was part of the splendor of it all. The unclean, the unsavory, it all had its appeal, he supposed. He was like that once, and he was nothing if not charismatic.

The sound of metal on stone broke him out of his thoughts, heavy steps making their way towards him from one of the alleys. It was the scent that really tipped Enver off first: a suffocating mixture of rot and dust. With another pull from his pipe, he emptied the contents into the inky black void of ocean beneath him, watching the ash dissipate and sink.

For a moment, he could see the bodies he had placed in that very same spot. Vacant eyes staring up at him as they sank below. Hundreds of unspoken curses, each one paving the path closer to his ambitions.

“Honestly, you’d think one of your station would at least have the common decency to bathe” The lord turned up his nose as he finally faced Ketheric, his cane leisurely staying at his side. “At the very least, it wouldn’t kill you.”

He only received a huff from the cloaked figure. The Man strode up beside him, taking a moment to take in the ocean air before he removed his hood. The silver of his hair and beard seemed to illuminate from the moonlight above. Out here, he almost seemed alive.

Almost.

“The last person I would think about taking any kind of advice from is you, upstart.” The timbre of his voice reverberated inside Enver’s chest. Even in monotone, that voice still commanded power. Authority. It made even Enver shiver. They stood together for another long pause of silence, the tension growing quite palpable. “This could have been much more efficient if we had this meeting at Moonrise, or even in your...fine abode, Gortash.”

There was something about the way Ketheric spoke his name that just irritated Enver. Like he was talking down to some child, in lieu of the fastest growing political powers in this city.

“Unfortunately, we are still in a position where we need to be concerned about the walls listening to us. Besides, anyone that passes by here will either be too drunk to understand what we are discussing, or will be dead before sunrise.” Gortash waved his hand dismissively to the general, twirling his cane just so he had something to do with his hands.

Under normal circumstances, Enver usually was far more in control and composed with these kinds of situations. Yet the general just unsettled him to no end. Was it the aura of undead? The separation of age? Or did he just see the Lord of Bones in those dead, lifeless eyes?

Ketheric simply raised a brow, looking the other up and down.

“So tell me, old friend, how does this new lease on life that your gracious lord gifted you feel?” Enver straightened his back a little. If the General was going to inspect him, might as well give the old man a show.

The general scoffed at the assumption of friendship, wanting nothing more than to take that irritating smirk off of the lord's face.

“He sees I still have a vital part to play. My devotion to him will not sway. I am his justice -” The speech was quickly cut off by the lord’s snickering beside him as he balanced himself on the cane.

“Gods, and I thought I was the one with the potential for grandstanding.” The scowl on the old man's face elicited another snicker. “Truly, Ketheric. If this whole general business doesn't work out for you, I'm sure you'd have a wonderful time in the world of politics.” Gortash motioned to Thorm with a flourish. “The Baldurian's, at least, would love you.”

“Unlike you, Gortash, I did not have to scheme my way into power.”

“No, only betray your greatest values. A few times, if I’m not mistaken.” The way Ketheric tensed tipped Enver off that he was indeed on thin ice.

“Do not worry though, I'm sure most of us have surely had our own moments of weakness. Besides, with recent potential investments, I'm sure most would look over your past mistakes.”

“How reassuring.” Sarcasm dripped like rotted ichor from his mouth. “You have quite the amount of confidence for one that is relying on a lot of… potentials.” Ketheric looked out to the ocean again before his eyes went back to Gortash, much more serious. “I'm not here to play silly political games with you, Gortash, and I'm sure our predecessors would agree. Now why have you asked me here.”

“We haven’t been chosen on a whim, dear General.” It was Enver’s turn to change his tone. “To save you the speech, it is time for a centuries old pact be reignited. With recent events taking place, we now have the greatest chance we could be gifted for absolute domination… and it starts with what is below your home.” The look of befuddlement on Ketheric's face was enough to quell any remaining nervousness Gorthash had felt.

“I've devised a plan-”

The sound of gurgling took the words from his mouth, both staring back into the alley. The golden eye, illuminated by brilliant crimson steel, froze Gortash in his place. Even Ketheric stood straighter. Slowly, they saw the crimson blade make their way from the stranger’s throat to his groin, body spasming in its death throes.

All the while, Gortash stared into those brilliant liquid gold eyes, the stare almost searing into his brain. The grotesque sound of the man's entrails slipping onto the wet stone below, followed by the body, could only make the General shake his head.

Slow, wet steps came towards them as the moonlight illuminated her face. Gortash had only met her a handful of times, yet the sight still made his throat tighten.

Ketheric was the first to regain composure, clearing his throat. Those eyes went to the General before she removed her hood. Her hair was damp, black strands clinging to olive skin.

“A pleasure… to finally meet Myrkul’s chosen.” The Bhaalspawn inspected Ketheric, the look in her eyes flickering between predatory and admiration.

When those same eyes landed on Gortash, they quickly changed to annoyance.

“Lovely to see you again, my dear.” It took everything within Enver to hide his indignation.

Just seeing how she smirked at his feeble attempt to gain some kind of control filled him with a silent rage. Judging by how her smirk grew, he was not surprised if she could smell it on him.

“Never expected one of your kind to be so…” Ketheric was almost at a loss for words, the woman seizing the bit.

“Eloquent? Civilized? Lucid?” The Bhaalspawn circled around the man like a vulture, the image almost making Gortash laugh. “Oh, don’t fret, you're exactly how I expected one chosen by Myrkul to be. Dead, covered in the dust of his former life.”

Now that made Enver laugh. The two looked at him as he did his best to cover it with a cough.

The tension was palpable for a few moments, all three waiting for the other to make a move. The Bhaalspawn cleaned her blade on her cloak, staring back at the body wistfully before sheathing the blade. The look on Gortash’s face tipped her off that he was less than impressed with the spectacle.

“What?” She grabbed the body from the alley, dragging it so it could slip off the pier into the water below. “I was doing you a favor.” The three just silently watched the horrified face sink below before Gortash cleared his throat.

“Well, “Gortash said, clapping his hands, “since we are all introduced now, I feel it is time to speak of why we’re truly -” The woman was quick to step in front of Gortash, smirking as he stumbled on the words.

“Yes, the plan that I came up with that you so graciously tried to take the credit for.” She sneered at the lord, gold eyes brimming with irritation. “But you might as well finish what you started.”

“I would if the interruptions would cease,” Enver hissed.

Ketheric rolled his eyes at the immature display. With a shrug from the Bhaalspawn, Gortash continued.

“As you’re both well aware, we have all been chosen for a purpose, and it seems that our lord's have decided it best that we all work towards the same goal. Just as in the past, we continue the Pact of the Dead Three.” There was little reaction from Gortash’s compatriots, steeling himself before continuing.

“After some... collaboration,” His eyes flicker to the woman, “It seems a perfect plan has been laid out before us. All that stops us is our willingness to work together and take it..” Enver raises his hand, clenching it into a fist. The others could not help but roll their eyes, waiting for him to get on with the rest.

“General, it seems that you hold one of the key figures to this plan, right beneath the very stone of your home.”

The gleam of joy in Enver’s eyes was undeniable as he watched the General go through the stages of confusion to disbelief.

“To even entertain the thought of any of us somehow using, let alone convincing, an Elder Brain, not to mention the colony surrounding it to work with the Dead Three? I see that Bane has chosen a man on a suicide wish.” Ketheric shook his head, scoffing at the mere notion that the three of them stood a chance against such a creature.

“Hear him out.” She nodded for Gortash to continue. The spawn stepping in to support Gortash was enough to make Ketheric pause in shock for a moment. “Trust me, it is worth the risk.”

“Thank you.” Even Enver was a little surprised at her sudden change in behavior. Shrugging it off, he kept going. “I agree, Ketheric, it would be a foolish endeavor for us to even try convincing the creature. But, what if we had means to control it?”

The lord’s trademark smirk grew wider, which in turn made the General’s frown deepen. “Unless you have suddenly become the greatest archwizard of all time, I highly doubt it. This is becoming a waste of time -”

“The Crown of Karsus.” The Bhaalspawn looked directly at Ketheric now, gold eyes alight. “We may not be able to convince it, but we can bring it to heel and make it obey us.”

Restless, the spawn began pacing back and forth, her eyes still trained on the General at all times.

“Tell me, child of Bhaal,” Ketheric arched a brow, his stare condescending as the girl laughed, “How is it you know of such an artifact? Is that common knowledge around your circles?”

“Honestly, do you think of me as an untrained rabid dog?” Venom dripped from her tone, Gortash noticing her fingers twitch for just a moment. “I do know my fair amount of history, thank you. My father made sure I was born with a proper brain.”

He almost considered stopping her if she were to lunge at the other’s throat.

Almost.

“Anyways, the plan is relatively simple.” Enver took the lead in conversation again. “We get the crown, place it on the Elder Brain, and use it to create an army worth the names of our lords.” Ketheric was quick to wave his hand dismissively.

“If it does actually exist, how do we expect to find it?” The smile on the spawn’s lips grew, rocking on her feet a little.

“We already know where it is located. It seems that after the fall of Netheril, Mephistopheles himself claimed possession. Now it remains sealed in his vault in Cania.”

“And how did that information fall in your hands?” The General stood much straighter now, that dismissive look now shifted to one of trepid curiosity.

“My father showed it to me.” The toe of her boot scuffed itself on the cobblestone as she looked down. “In a dream.”

Gortash couldn't stop himself from pinching the bridge of his nose. The bark of laughter that escaped Ketheric made the two of them jump. It was not a sound they ever expected to hear from him, making it much more unsettling.

“So, that’s what we’re basing this entire plan? Dreams?” He motioned between the two of them, eager for some kind of answer.

“Oh? I would think you would be the last to turn your nose up at a divine gift from your lord.” She got closer to Ketheric, staring up at him with a dangerous glint in her eyes. “Or are you really that unappreciative? Does Myrkul know? I'm sure he would be quick to resurrect another’s decayed carcass to do his work.”

The General swallowed the lump in his throat, eliciting a larger smile from the spawn.

“Either way,” she went on, turning her back to Ketheric and pacing back closer to Gortash. “Bhaal has shown us exactly where to go. Now, all that is left is to get there and get the crown.”

Shaking his head, Ketheric let out another chuckle, this entire plan reaching levels of absurdity. “So what you’re saying is that the three of us make our way to the eighth layer of the hells, and perform one of, if not the most, ridiculous heist of all time.”

“Exactly.” Both Gortash and the spawn agreed at the same time, giving each other a put off look before making the space between them slightly larger.

“There has to be more to this than what you're saying. This can’t be it. Say we actually manage to steal the crown, how do we even control the Elder Brain?” Ketheric’s voice was tense, eyes kept flashing between disbelievement and genuine curiosity, his head tilting to the side.

“There seem to be three foci that resonate with the crown itself. Using these three stones, we can control whoever, or whatever wears the crown. Convenient, for us.” Gortash said, shrugging his shoulders. “With that control, we can use the illithids to infect others with the parasite. With enough infected, who is there to stop our masters?”

Gortash felt the muscles tense in his throat at the word. The spawn could see him tense, quickly flitting her eyes away before she was noticed.

��Besides,” she spoke, motioning towards Ketheric. “You will be staying here. There is a different plan for you in all this.”

Ketheric was taken aback, confused at the possible implications. “Are you saying I am not capable of such a heist?”

“Well we certainly wouldn't want one of your age and accomplishment to be over exerting themselves now, would we?” The glares Gortash received not just from the General, but from the Spawn made him put his hands up in feigned surrender. “Easy now, merely a joke. But in all honesty, we find that there is much more important work for you to do up here.”

“Such as?” Ketheric raised his brow.

“Even with my followers, we do not have the proper numbers to stage an invasion on the illithid colony.” The girl tried her best to keep her tone strong. Ketheric noticed the uneasiness in her voice. “If we are to have a chance at getting the crown on that brain, we need a big enough army to pose a distraction. Keep its attention away from us. Which is where you come in.” She motioned to the general, taking a deep breath before she continued.

“We need you to raise a number of undead. Canon fodder, to throw at those squids until we can secure the crown on its head. So, while the upstart and I are gone –” She could not help but smirk as he hissed a breath through his nose. “--you will be building this army. I will have my sister, Orin, bring some cultists to you at Moonrise to… procure necessary ingredients, let's say.” The unsure look in Ketheric’s eyes fed into her anxiety, but she had to have some faith. “Don't worry, I'll make sure she is kept on a proper leash for you.”

“Not the only one who needs it…” Gortash mumbled under his breath.

She did not look back to him, but he could see the Bhaalspawn tighten her hand into a white knuckled fist, blood slowly blooming from her nails.

“And what is your way to actually get into Cania? Not exactly a short distance to travel for the two of you.” Ketheric questioned, his eyes darting between the two.

Gortash was the one to speak before the spawn.

“That, General, is what I am just completing. An old contact of mine has the means to make a temporary portal between here, and Cania. With that supplies, once we reach the vault, we can easily teleport the crown straight to your door. No sense in lugging such a heavy thing back.”

The spawn jumped in after. “We will travel to the eighth layer by the barge on the Styx. Both the upstart and I have been able to procure a fair amount of Soul Coins. I'm sure Charon wouldn't mind giving us the lift.”

There was another long pause between the three Chosen. Each looked between each other for some kind of affirmation. It wasn't until they started hearing faint birdsong that they were snapped out of their contemplation, all three looking into the horizon, now starting to show signs of morning bleeding in.

“I will not go against the plan set in motion by our masters.” Ketheric’s voice was tense, yet firm. “If this is what we must do to see their grand design come to fruition, who are we to object?”

Adjusting his cloak, he covered his head with the hood, readying his departure.

“Wonderful!” Gortash clapped his hands together, his face positively radiating with cheer. “My business with this colleague shouldn't take too long, so I would expect us to see each other again within the week, at your humble abode.” Enver motioned to Ketheric “We will bring those cultists in tow, best to get an early start on that army.”

Giving Gortash the slightest nod of the head, Ketheric turned his attention to the Bhaalspawn, her face calm.

“Praise be the Dead Three,” she said quietly, bowing her head as Kethric turned on his heel, disappearing into the shadows.

“Well, as enjoyable as your company is, I am a busy man with many things -” Enver was cut off by a crimson blade, the tip poking into his throat.

“I am surprised, upstart, that you would take credit for this plan so quickly.” Her golden eyes burned with curiosity as she looked him up and down. The spawn stepped closer, forcing Gortash to put his back to the wall. “Interesting that you would omit how it was me who brought this to you.”

Her eyes narrowed as a small smile grew on her lips. Enver tried to mirror the expression, yet his own wavered in nervousness.

“As the one who perfected the plot, I felt it was only right.” He knew he was treading on thin ice, the woman easily able to end him here and now.

But both knew, there would be no other replacement capable of fulfilling this heist. Taking another step closer, the spawns face was mere inches from Enver’s, their breaths mixing. He was surprised how hers faintly smelt of mint.

“Well, it is a good thing I am understanding. The credit is yours.” Her voice was menacingly quiet. “Now, if the plan fails spectacularly… our Three Lords know exactly who to direct their disappointment and rage at.” With a slight flick, the blade tip was removed from his throat, not without making the slightest incision on his adams apple. The woman’s eyes flickered to the blood beginning to bloom. “By the way…”

Her hand reached out towards their right, her hand twisting and emanating a red glow. From the shadows, another figure slowly walked out, their eyes glowing the same hue that resonated around the spawn’s hand. Gortash quickly made out the emblem of the Guild on his chest, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“Your throat, cut it to the bone.” The spawn hissed to the spy.

The spy slowly took out their dagger, and after a brief pause, began cutting into their throat. Like a saw, the man cut left and right, blood pouring to the stone as their jugular was brutally torn apart. The smile never left the girl's face as, after another few seconds, the body collapsed before them, knife stuck in the guild member’s throat.

“That is yet another favour. Be careful, lordling. Would hate Arden to not be around for your death.” Turning away, the woman stepped on the body, eliciting another hiss of blood to spurt towards Enver as he watched her walk into the shadows, quickly disappearing.

It was when she was out of sight that Gortash realized two things: First, his heart was pounding in his chest, ears filled with each throbbing pulse.

The second: His lungs shrieked for air that had been denied them since the moment she nicked him.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tags: @theannoyingurge @enterthedreams @rivthewriter

#gortash x dark urge #lord enver gortash #enver flymm #enver gortash #enver gortash x oc #bg3 gortash #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fic #bg3 spoilers #dark urge #durgetash #gortash x durge #bg3 durge #Become as Gods #baldurs gate 3 #bg3

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vodika-vibes · 1 month

Note

hello!!! Any chance you’d be willing to write an Ezra x Reader with opal and winter??? I read your other Ezra fic and liked it so much I wanted to see another one! Preferably while he’s still with the ghost crew (like 18 or 19), if ya can! Thanks so much 😀

Life Day Conversations

Summary: It’s hard, being on the run from the Empire. You signed up for it, sure, but it’s still hard. Luckily, Ezra is always there to help you feel better about the choices you made.

Pairing: Ezra Bridger x Reader

Word Count: 722

Prompt: Opal - Faithful Love

Warnings: Kind of bittersweet, based off of what I know happens to Ezra

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: So, I still haven't watched Rebels. I just don't have the time, so I hope I didn't butcher him too badly. And I'm sorry if I did.

“Are you sure you want to stay out here?” Hera asks from the ramp of the ship, shivering as she pulls the thick winter jacket tighter around her, “It’s freezing.”

You glance at her, and flash the smallest smile, “Yeah. Just a little longer. I won’t stay out long, promise.”

“I’ll hold you to it. We can’t afford anyone catching pneumonia.” You hear the sound of her clomping back up the ramp, and you sigh and tilt your head back, your eyes drifting shut.

1 year.

It’s been one year since the day you defected from the empire. A year since the last time you saw your parents, your siblings, your nephews.

You don’t regret it. Not really.

The Empire is made up of monsters, the worst kinds of monsters. Monsters who look like your next door neighbor.

But you’ve never felt so alone in all your life.

Though, you’re fairly certain that your loneliness stems from the fact that this is the first major holiday away from your family. And as much as you love Hera and Kannan and Jacen…you can’t help but feel like you’re intruding.

You release a slow breath, your eyes opening again as you feel something cold and wet against your cheek. “Huh. It’s snowing-”

How…sad.

It fits your mood perfectly.

“Knock, knock.” You start at the familiar voice from behind you, and you turn to blink at Ezra, “I know you don’t like it when people just barge in, but I figure since there’s no doors-” He trails off, “I bring hot cocoa?”

“Hera is going to kill you if she catches you out here.” You note as you slide over on the boulder to let him join you.

“Pft. I’m not afraid of her.” Ezra hands you both thermos and jumps up to join you, before taking his thermos back, “I also brought a blanket, to ward off the cold.”

You shoot him a look, “What’s wrong, Bridger? Can’t handle a little cold?”

“Hera will kill both of us if either of us get sick, so scoot in. We’re gonna get cozy.”

“I thought you weren’t afraid of her.”

“Wasn’t me, must have been the devil speaking through me.” Ezra says solemnly, before he tucks the blanket around himself and then you, “So, why are you looking so glum?”

“I’m not.”

“Are too. What, you think I can’t tell what you’re feeling?” You scowl at him and he grins as he taps your temple, “Jedi, remember.”

“Cheater.”

“Is it cheating to use your god given powers-”

“Yes.”

He laughs, and drapes his arm over your shoulder, “Come on. It’s just me.”

You’re quiet for a moment, and then you sigh and drop your head on his shoulder, “It’s my first Life Day without my family. I suppose I’m feeling a little…melancholic.”

“You having second thoughts?”

“No.” You shake your head, “Just…feeling a bit lonely.”

“Well, that’ll happen when you’re sitting out in the cold rather than celebrating with your chosen family,” Ezra points out gently, “What’s really bothering you?”

“...I don’t know.” You pause, and pull your knees up to rest your chin on them, “What happens when you leave?”

“Hey, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Sure, you say that now-”

“No.” He turns to face you and holds his pinky out for you to hook, “I’m not leaving you. Not now. Not ever.” He wiggles his pinky at you, “You know a pinky promise is eternal.”

“What are you, five?”

“Five times more fun than you.” Ezra quips. “Come on, even if I do have to go away for whatever reason, I’m always going to come back to you.”

“Until you don’t.”

“Nope. Always. Forever. I’ll always be faithful to you. I love you after all.”

You sigh and hook your finger with his, “Then, I hope you know that I’ll always be faithful to you too.”

Ezra beams at you and uses your joined fingers to tug you in so he’s able to kiss you, “Now, we’d better get back inside before Hera sends Sabine after us.”

“Oh…well…”

Ezra hops down off the boulder, and offers you his hand with a blinding smile, “Come on, gorgeous. It’s Life Day, you shouldn’t be alone.”

You release a quiet sigh, but slide down the boulder to take his hand.

Maybe change isn’t so bad after all.

#star wars #star wars rebels #vodika-vibes 500 followers celebration #ezra bridger x reader #ezra x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #gn!reader fic #answered asks

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ladybugpowermakeup · 16 days

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Okay. Okay. Hear me out. Because I'm Greek mythology trash.

An Odyssey AU for Miraculous Ladybug. Think about it. Adrien is the most Odysseus character I've ever seen. Fake piano playing? Hiding in a fountain? I mean, it practically writes itself. And Marinette as Penelope is equally as perfect - she creates, but she's smart enough to pull it all apart at the end of the day.

Now here is where things get a little strange: Telemachus. Being an avid MLB fanfiction reader (and ignoring all of seasons 4 and 5), I'm very well aware that Adrienette's kids are supposedly going to be Louis, Hugo, and Emma. Now tell me, what could Emma be short for? That's right, Telemachus. So hear me out - Adrien was drafted into the war *Before* Emma was born, so he never knew he had a daughter and his last request for his child was to name them Telemachus. But when she was born a girl, she was nicknamed Emma. Hugo and Louis don't exist in this version, obviously.

So we have our main family, what about everyone else? Well, we have Adrian's two crewmates, Polites and Eurilochus. Or in this case, Nino and Felix. Nino is his friend who fought at his side and is tragically killed along the ride back, causing Adrian to go into a spiral of grief, whereas Felix is his somewhat suspicious and angry second in command who can't understand why Adrien is being so reckless with his own life and that of the crew to get back to his wife and child. So eventually he starts straight up sabotaging the trip to try and get through to Adrien, which doesn't ever work because when Adrien is in love, he doesn't notice other people.

As for the people they meet on their travels:

Circe is Lila - this one feels pretty self explanatory, except for the fact that Lila would never care that much about the nymphs around her, so I'm thinking she lives alone on the island and basically functions as a non-water siren - she draws men in with comfort and beauty and then turns them into pigs.

The wind god Aeolus is just Trixx - they're weird and whimsical and would absolutely give someone a bag of wind with the word "gold" written on it.

Calypso is Chloe, left there alone on this island for "protection" from her overbearing father, a minor deity. Again, this just kind of makes sense in my brain. And she gets a little bit of a redemption when she finally willingly lets Adrien go home.

When the crew of the ship go down into the underworld, they meet "Tyresius", who in this case is Master Fu. Weird cryptic old wise guy who's maybe dead? Yeah. That fits.

And finally we have the deities themselves. Like I said, Trixx is already accounted for, so we have three main ones - Posideon, Athena, and Hermes.

Posideon is most definitely ShadowMoth - not really any meaning behind this, we're just making him mysterious and powerful and angry at Adrien for seemingly no reason. But he's doing his best to keep this man from reaching home, possibly because early in the journey, Adrien was instrumental in killing a sentimonster, which canonically is kind of a piece of the creator.

Athena and Hermes are two of a pair - Tikki and Plagg, obviously. Wisdom and trickery, sounds just about right to me.

Anyway, this has been on my brain. Enjoy the weird crossover! If you do anything with it, please tag me!

#miraculous #mlb au #Miraculous Ladybug #mlb #rants from regina #miraculous ladybug #fanfiction #greek mythology #the oddyssey #oddyssey au #no i dont know either #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #miraculous fanfic #fanfic #fanfic ideas

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bluerose5 · 4 months

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Hunger

Word Count: 1,927

Ship/Pairing: Astarion/Male Tav (High Elf, Wizard)

Other Tags: Hurt & Comfort, Dhampir Tav (more cursed dhampir than vampire dhampir), Headcanons & Backstory, Communication, References to Past Domestic Violence, Blood Magic Ritual

Summary:

Circumstances force Falorin to reveal the truth about himself to Astarion.

Astarion's only insulted that it took him this long to mention it.

Link to read on AO3.

...

When Falorin approached his tent that night, Astarion squinted up at him from within, red eyes instantly narrowed in suspicion.

“Need something?” he asked, curious what brought about the spontaneous, late-night visit.

With his face shrouded in shadows, Falorin watched him closely, lips pursed.

“May I join you in your lair for a moment,” he joked, going even so far as to offer him a mocking bow, “o great vampire lord?”

Snorting at his antics, Astarion rolled his eyes, unable to keep his smile at bay.

“About time someone around here showed proper respect,” he said, but something felt off about the whole exchange. When he tried to lean in closer to get a good look at Falorin, the latter shied away into the darkness. He kept his head bowed, fidgeting with his fingers while his hair shielded his face from view. After a heavy pause, one fraught with tension, he shifted to the side to make room for Fal. “Oh, fine. You are permitted to enter.”

“Thank you,” he whispered, much more hesitant compared to before.

It took him some time, shifting from foot to foot, before he mustered up enough courage to take Astarion up on the offer.

The instant he sat at Astarion's side, brushing away empty jars of blood, Astarion knew then why he had been so cautious.

Even in the dim, magical light that Astarion's tent had to offer, Falorin looked…

He looked ill.

But not in any way befitting a mortal.

What was once warm, tan skin had been drained of all radiance in the span of only a couple of hours, now pale like the moon, taking on a sickly, grayish undertone.

A sheen of sweat clung to his skin.

While Volo's prosthetic remained entirely unchanged, Falorin's other eye was nothing but an endless pool of darkness. Both sclera and iris turned into an empty, black void of nothingness, threatening to swallow up anyone who dared to stare too long into its depths.

His breaths were quick, shallow.

Each one brought along a painful wheeze with every rise and fall of his chest.

Under Astarion's scrutiny, Falorin curled in on himself with his arms wrapped tightly around his stomach, rocking back and forth ever so slightly.

A hand shot up to grip his throat when he swallowed, the agony unbearable.

“Astarion,” he rasped, slow to meet his eyes. “Could you keep a secret for me, if only for the night?”

“Fal,” he warned, concerned when his lips parted to reveal wickedly sharp teeth, shorter than Astarion's fangs yet more numerous, more easily concealed. “What in the Hells is going on with you? What is the meaning of this?”

“I—” Stammering, he winced at the pangs of hunger shooting through him. His lower lip trembled as he bit back a cry of pain. “When I killed my husband,” he snarled, “it changed me.”

“Changed you?” Astarion asked. His hand hovered in the air between him, uncertain how to even begin comforting him, before it fell back to his side. “What do you mean?”

Falorin squeezed his eyes tightly shut. Then, he focused on his breathing, focused on his words.

“It was one of my first attempts at casting anything more powerful than a cantrip,” he explained, his responding laugh dry and bitter. “Zykan had plenty of material on dark, ancient magics. He didn't notice one tome go missing.”

He shook his head at the memory, reaching up to tug at the roots of his hair, its color now a dull imitation of what it was mere hours ago.

“It was a ritual,” he continued. “Blood magic.” His words boiled with a seething rage, flowing with a deep-seated hatred. “That bastard robbed me of my life for so long—” When he and Astarion next locked eyes, Astarion found that he couldn't look away. “—so I took everything that he was away from him. I absorbed his life's essence down to the very core. Every fiber of his being now belongs to me.”

Falorin's expression fell.

“And I've been paying the price for it ever since.”

A sob clawed its way through his chest.

“I didn't realize at the time that he had been feeding on the energy of others to extend his own life.”

Astarion blinked at that, summoning vague recollections of what he knew about the aasimar in question.

“There were definitely rumors among certain circles about him,” he said, wary at once, “but no one ever seemed to know anything for certain.”

“No one until me, that is,” Falorin whispered. “I uncovered a lot in the days after his death. He achieved immortality in his own way, I guess, but ‘want’ oh so easily became ‘need.’ He had to have another's life energy to sustain him. It became his addiction. His need consumed him.”

“And now it threatens to consume you,” Astarion interrupted, struck by the realization.

Falorin nodded.

“I took everything from him,” he repeated. “His power. His magic. His strength. His life.” Falorin's lips curled into a sneer. “But his hunger, most of all.”

Speechless, Astarion let Fal work through his thoughts, the latter eventually continuing on with a dark chuckle.

“His last words to me were, ‘I will always be with you, my heart.’” So few words for all the meaning they held, forever ingrained into Falorin's mind. After all, did Zykan refer to the hunger? To the fear he instilled within Falorin, even in death? Perhaps a bit of both or neither at all. Maybe he did it just to get inside his head one last time, and it worked. “Sick, sadistic fuck. I should have just bashed his head in while I had the chance,” he snapped, “hangman's noose be damned.”

“Why didn't you?” Astarion asked.

Falorin opened his mouth, then closed it, considering the question carefully.

Eventually, he came to the conclusion, “Because I wanted to survive.”

He shrugged helplessly at Astarion, sparing him a tearful smile.

“Because there had to be doubt. Because I knew that people underestimated me. They would have never believed that ‘sweet, innocent’ Falorin Verwin would be the one behind his husband's death if it was said to be due to ‘mysterious circumstances,’ and I was right. Most suspicions were cast more towards his political rivals than myself.”

“Then, I am glad for their stupidity, if it meant your survival,” Astarion said. “Although, remind me to never get on your bad side.”

Both of them chuckled at that, but Falorin winced when his throat ached in response.

Astarion frowned at him, all too familiar with his current state, more than he cared to admit.

Shooing those thoughts away, he stated, “You're starving.”

Falorin averted his eyes, but he couldn't ignore that gnawing emptiness growing inside him.

He gave Astarion a tired nod.

“I am,” he admitted.

“Do I even need to tell you how reckless that is,” Astarion scolded, “letting yourself get to this state?”

“I know,” Falorin said. “Trust me, I know. I don't—I don't usually feed like that unless I have to, though. Most foods can sustain me for a while. This time, I was just so distracted with everything else happening, I kept setting this aside without thinking about it, and now it snuck up on me! It was an accident, one that won't be happening again, I swear!”

One pitiful, wide-eyed look from him left Astarion's willpower crumbling.

“Ugh, okay, fine, I believe you,” he conceded. “Now, stop pouting. I'm still upset with you for waiting until it got to this point to tell me.” He sniffed in disdain, glancing down at his nails. “I told you about me being a vampire, did I not?”

Falorin stared at him, unimpressed.

“After you tried to bite me.”

“Details, darling.” Astarion waved a dismissive hand in his direction. “Details.” Peeking over at him, Astarion eyed him up and down, deep in thought. “Not to state the obvious, but you do realize that the only ones around at the moment who can sate your hunger are our illustrious companions, correct?

“I know,” Falorin groaned, frustrated.

“I mean, I wouldn't mind letting you take a nibble out of me with those teeth.” Astarion flashed his fangs at him in kind. “To repay you for all the times you've been kind enough to keep me fed and happy, but —from how you describe your condition— I doubt undead flesh is what you have in mind.”

“Fortunately for you, no,” Falorin said, “but you see, that's why I came to you tonight.” He took a deep, bracing breath. “I need to ask a favor of you.”

“By all means.”

“Watch over me tonight. Please,” he begged. “The last time I remember being this bad off, it was when I first discovered I was something… different. For days, I was hungry, so I ate, and I ate. Nothing helped, though. Then, a young man saw me fall down in an alley. When he tried to help me up, I—”

A whirlwind of emotions choked him up for a second.

“All it takes is a single touch. He was the first person I could remember ever offering me a helping hand in years, and I repaid his kindness by killing him. I watched the life drain from his eyes, and he was nothing but an empty husk by the time I was through with him.

“Astarion.” He reached out, resting a hand upon his shoulder with a gentle squeeze. “You will be safe with me tonight, but the others will not. Promise me that you will watch over me and keep them safe.”

“So much responsibility,” he sighed, but he knew that feeling all too well, how wretched it was to be reduced to some feral creature of the night, to be a slave to the hunger that was supposed to empower them. How could he possibly deny Falorin his request? “I promise you that I will keep them safe, but you must promise me that, come tomorrow, you will feed upon the first enemies we encounter.”

Falorin nodded eagerly in agreement.

“I swear.”

“And, Fal, my dear.” Astarion's expression gentled. “You should probably consider telling the others, too. Sooner rather than later.”

With another nod, he shifted closer to Astarion's side, suddenly bashful. Vulnerable.

“I will,” he mumbled, then glanced up at him, hopeful. “Astarion, can we—can we lay together?”

Astarion raised a brow at him in amusement.

Of course, Falorin realized a second too late how his words held a double meaning.

For a moment, Astarion swore he saw a hint of color find its way back to his cheeks.

“Well, I didn't think you would be in the mood for that tonight,” Astarion teased in a purr, “but if you insist…”

“Oh, you!” Fal gave him a playful nudge, then crossed his arms over his chest in a huff. “You know that's not what I meant.”

“One can dream, at least,” Astarion joked, but he was already lying down as he spoke, tugging Fal along with him. “Now, I know the pain is uncomfortable, but do try to rest, my dear.”

Once Falorin curled up against his chest, Astarion slowly wrapped his arms around him, pressing a tender kiss to his forehead.

The aches never relented.

His stomach gurgled. His throat burned.

He knew no relief that night.

That spark of darkness inside him spread into an all-out inferno. It thrashed, and it writhed. It gnashed its teeth and tore his insides to pieces.

But Astarion held him through it all.

And that meant the world to Falorin.

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #bg3 tav #astarion ancunin #falorin sungleam #my oc #tavstarion #astarion x tav #bluerose writes #in which i torture my darling elf some more

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illarian-rambling · 1 month

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Thanks for the tag @mk-writes-stuff!

Oc in 3

Rules: Post three images that best capture your oc's vibe

So, I've done this for most of my book characters, but let's do another dnd character! Here's Gillaria Half-Haru

Not sure why the only art I have of her is on a lab manual, but I think it really fits her character. Here are some fun facts!

Gillaria was the character of mine who started the whole kidnapping bit. She loved dark alleys and had negative insight.

She bought a gun from a devil. That gun had the ghost of a red dragon in it. She ended up putting that ghost into an airship because he was her bestest buddy and would never lie to her about scouring the land with fire and hate, right? Chaos ensued.

She, as a battle smith artificer, had two robots she treated like her beloved son and daughter. Their names were Anatolius and Aenira, and she doted on them incessantly.

She was a total sweetheart and sought only to spread the word of her dying god of innovation, Relhan. Unfortunately, the only thing lower than her wisdom was her charisma, so she got tomatoed on street corners a lot.

She's the only dnd character I've ever perma killed. Turns out, going to investigate the air ship that's chasing you, that you've set your robot son to fire on in four rounds with a warlock squirrel-powered rail gun you made (it's weirder than it sounds), then promptly forgetting about that because the other ship had a cool engine, was a bad idea. Rip Gillaria, she died as she lived.

I'll tag @elsie-writes @vyuntspakhkite-l-darling @bard-coded @cartoonghosts @kosmic-kore and anyone else who wants to play :)

#writblr #writing #writerscommunity #dnd character #my ocs

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sapphicsparkles · 7 months

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r u a pro shipper

deep sigh I know this is bait, with all the effort of not even typing out full words. But hey, here's my chance to rant about how stupid anti/purity culture is. As far as I understand it "proship" has two major slang definitions: 1) supporting romantically/sexually shipping fictional characters together in general 2) supporting romantically/sexually shipping "problematic" fictional characters together I take it this ask is about the 2nd definition. There is ofc the wave of "PROSHIP DNI" on social profiles, especially young queer folks on social media, which I find highly disappointing because here is the thing: what do you consider "problematic?" In what context? And why the hell are we applying these broadly to the exploration and experimentation of fictional space as a qualifier for someone's moral standing? Why are you so adherent to what is considered institutionally approved as safe, good, and squeaky clean. Especially as a queer person who exist outside and in contradiction to cishet heteropatriarchal standards. Oh and now we've come to it: the fear of queerness being associated with things like incest and age gaps and what have you--things people generally deem problematic in shipping. The desire for queerness to be clean and wholesome and fucking acceptable. Model minority thinking if you will. Let queerness in fiction and media be soft and wholesome and healing, let it be deplorable and unforgivable, let it be wretched, let it be mean, let it struggle and grow and evolve. Let it have the breadth and humanity that cishet characters and stories are readily given. Please stop shooting yourself in the foot with this "good representation" thing. No level of internet drama and ship warring will make them want to kill any of us any less. The line for what institutionally acceptable queerness is will always move, it will always constrain and choke and kill and put us back into little boxes fit for consumption by the power structure. On the one hand, if you have things that ick you and you don't want to see, curating your online space is a good thing. That's what muting and blocking and tagging is for. But to me the "prosoship dni"/anti that I've witnessed for the most part is either model minority thinking, a false association with fictional enjoyment as irl condoning and morality, moral grandstanding, or some sort of wack performative tribalism. (Don't even get me started on the purity culture social panopticon we're living in.) Or some combination of the above. This rise of anti sentiment and the fall of media literacy is a correlation that I fear cannot be a coincidence. You can enjoy things in media that you wouldn't actually condone or even enjoy in reality, you can consume and enjoy media while also actively being aware and critiquing it for its flaws, issues, and the context it was created in. Build your critical thinking skills folks. Sometimes it's even good to encounter things you don't like to understand the world and yourself better--to understand why you don't like it and what it is connected to. Build your self awareness folks. In summary: please chill the fuck out y'all and hold grace for others.

#not what I was expecting to do tonight #i have a million more things to say but it's 3:30 am #i'm so tired of all this #be gay do crimes #ask #cali rants

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comshipbracket · 2 months

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Antis DNI - Block the tag "comship" if this causes discomfort.

Remember, you are voting for the ship you prefer, not the ship you find more problematic

Propaganda for both ships under the cut.

Disclaimer: All ships (other than NozoCoco) on this bracket are FOLLOWER-SUBMITTED ships, the Mods do not always hold necessary knowledge to be aware of any errors or fanonizing what should be canon material that may arise.

Jimthan Propaganda (One-sided Toxic Dynamic, Underage - Both Jimmy and Nathan are children)

"Jimmy and Nathan have an adorably onesided dynamic where it's never entirely clear if Jimmy is fully aware just how much Nathan hates his guts. Fueled partly by their different feelings on summer camp, Nathan has tried to get Jimmy killed multiple times, almost always ending in his own misfortune as a result. Much like a classic Looney Toons pair, Jimmy's insistence on fair play and good sportsmanship somehow always wins against Nathan's schemes. Even after encountering a situation where it is Severely, OBJECTIVELY clear that Nathan is just a straight up evil person who wants him and everyone else involved in the camp Dead, Jimmy seems to openly consider him a friend who he's glad to see every summer. This doesn't mean he never fucks with him, but Jimmy's attitude being so chill and friendly makes a wonderful contrast against Nathan's seething hatered. They also seem to be on mildly reasonable terms at school, partly because whenever Nathan has to directly interact with him, he feigns friendship, making the whole dynamic that much more complex. Please let my disabled babies win against the conventionally attractive anime people, i mean no disdain for the other ships i just think that would be really cool!!"

Stannarrator Propaganda (Codependency, Toxic Power Dynamics - In most endings)

"The Stanley Parable is a game about The Narrator wanting to tell a story through their game but having to rely on the Stanley's choices. The core of the game is that Stanley and The Narrator are bound to each other: Stanley needs The Narrator to make the "parable" he lives in, and The Narrator needs Stanley to make the choices that drive the story.

The Narrator clearly has the most power in this dynamic, since he can alter the world the Stanley lives in: modifying the rooms, creating and deleting objects at will, reloading the game, altering Stanley's perception, knowing almost everything and being almost everywhere. But, despite all that power, he isn't able to control the one thing that keeps his story existing: Stanley's choices.

Okay, spoilers to both the original 2013 game and the Ultra Deluxe remake from here on out since it's impossible to talk about them without spoiling a lot of the endings.

In one of the new endings on the Ultra Deluxe remake, the Skip Button ending, The Narrator creates a button that lets Stanley skip his dialogue `inspired` by a bad Steam review, but when Stanley clicks this button The Narrator is left all alone in that room, and which each click the skip becomes longer, from minutes, to hours, to weeks, to months… And in the fifth skip (where Stanley stays frozen for like, one, two weeks), The Narrator breaks up, talking about how he needs Stanley to listen to him and how scared he is of slipping back into the silence he passes through every time we use the skip button. In his own words, `I can't lose myself in the stretch of emptiness between you and me.` Of course, since it's the only way to advance in this ending, we skip again, and again, until The Narrator ends up eventually disappearing after the 12th or 13th skip, leaving Stanley alone in a desert, and that's where the ending stops, though it continues on the Epilogue, but I'll leave some things to add as propaganda during the polls.

Despite this, The Narrator still has more control of the situation than Stanley, like on the Explosion ending, where he traps Stanley in a room while the building's destroys itself as consequence for choosing to activate the Mind Control Machine instead of shutting it down to free everyone. He keeps acting like Stanley is nothing but a vehicle for him to pass a message through his story. `Watching you try to make sense of everything and take back the control wrested away from you…it's quite rich. I almost hate to see it go!` `You're only still playing instead of watching a cutscene because I want to watch you for every moment that you're powerless, to see you made humble. […] You wanted to control this world; that's fine. But I'm going to destroy it first, so you can't.`

But there's one point where they're equal, they both want to free themselves. On the Museum ending, we meet a being that is higher than The Narrator, the Female Narrator (yeah, that's her name), and she gives the best description of the relationship between these two: `Oh, look at these two. How they wish to destroy one another. How they wish to control one another. How they both wish to be free. Can you see? Can you see how much they need one another? No, perhaps not. Sometimes these things cannot be seen.`"

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