#crop circle interpretation

[compassionmattersmost]

Spirals of Harmony: A Deeper Look into the Crop Circle of August 29th

There’s something undeniably captivating about the crop circle that appeared on August 29th. As I gaze upon its intricate design, I’m drawn into a world where geometry and spirituality converge, where the mysteries of the universe seem to be woven into the very fabric of the earth itself. This particular formation, with its flowing spirals and perfectly balanced symmetry, speaks to something deep…

[writing-makes-me-human]

HEYYYYYY

I couldn't help but see your requests were open l😏

So I wanted to ask for a human reader who Neteyam finds but he goes to kill her and she kinda charms him so he stops?

Then they become mates, the story and stuff is all up to you but yeahhhh that's my idea

I LOVE YOUR WRITING BTW AND I HAVE READ NEARLY EVERYTHING!! ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 

Thank you for the lovely words and your support it gives my writing purpose <3

Here is your request, I really hope you like it!

I named it Charming Killer after your request.

ps: If people have put in a request it is on its way!

┍━━━━━»•» 🌺 «•«━┑

Pairing: Neteyam x reader

Part Two

Summary: You get chased into the wilds of Pandora with a broken communication collar and a bullet wound, but Neteyam finds you. He goes to kill you but an omen from Eywa stops him, and as he approaches you he realizes you are his destined mate.

Warnings: blood and injury were mentioned, nothing else.

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: I’m taking a quick little break from writing for the same two series and breaking out to some requests. Check my master list for my posting schedule for Love and Guests. And what are we feeling? Part two or keep this as a one-shot? (God why did I just offer to create a new series but also this is such a cool idea and I want to write more)

Neteyam didn't like humans, and he never had. His mother had raised him to stay away from them as much as possible, and he had obeyed to keep her happy, but as he grew up and his siblings came back from ventures to the human labs that lay beyond their village with stories about Norm and Max in their human forms, he found his simple obligation of dislike turn into hatred.

Neteyam avoided all of the dream walkers that operated in his village to the best of his ability. His father advised them not to bother his eldest son or his wife, which they respectably agreed to. Still, even if they weren't around him Neteyam could always feel their presence, and it irked him.

One day, this feeling cropped up in his mind as he was out in the rugged outback of Pandora, hunting a stray tapirus for his mother.

He jumped from a tree to the ground as he continued to track, but then as Neteyam pressed his fingers into the newest set of prints in the dirt, he smelt it.

It was the distinct smell that often surrounded humans, something of a mixture between an unnatural chemical smell and wafts of artificial scents that attracted them to one another. Still, to Na'vi, the smell was a distinct warning.

He raised his head, abandoning the hunt in favour of locating the emitter of the stench that was offending him.

He followed his nose for a few meters, and then with the tip of his bow, he dipped a low-hanging branch to divulge a clearing.

There, standing in the middle with not a soul around was you, trying to aid an injury to your lower arm and fix a device at the same time with only one working hand.

He quirked his brow in confusion. He had never heard of you from his father, which only led to one conclusion: you were a sky person under Quaritch's jurisdiction.

He watched you for a few seconds to take inventory of what you were doing all alone in the middle of Pandora without a jarhead next to you with a gun. He could tell immediately you were not military because you were pacing around in a circle, speaking a mile an hour to yourself, using words he didn't understand with no sign of a weapon anywhere on your person.

His eyes dipped to your arm, which you were clenching shut as blood dripped onto the ground and soaked itself into the fabric of your shirt.

You were in shock from what Neteyam could interpret in distinction to your actions. The wound didn't seem like it had come from an attack by any beast on his planet because you would surely be dead if that were the case.

The injury looked like a bullet wound which only charged his curious streak further, but you were human, and one less sky person on this planet was a plus for his cause. So, he nestled down on the ground and silently replaced the branch so he could pull back his bow and aim his righteous arrow at your head.

He felt his heart beat in rhythm with your steps as you desperately tried to fix a communication com device with one hand, fighting against the panic that was starting to take your breath away.

The wilderness was vast, and you could feel the race against time fight in opposition to the blood which was slowly collecting a trail by your feet.

He let out his breath and readied the shot, but before he could let it go, a seedling from the tree of souls floated into his vision and landed on his hand, a silent plea not to fire.

He was stunned for a few seconds and held his posture, but when the seedling took off again, he finally let his hands relax and brought the longbow back down to his lap.

He was captivated now as he tried to lean closer through the foliage to see your actions. Eywa had spoken, and he would not kill you.

He thought back to the story his mother had often told her children about how she met his father, and his nose scrunched up at the similarities between the two stories.

He decided he would not take you to his father, and he would leave you here. If Eywa didn't want him to kill you, that was fine but he wouldn't become responsible for your safety.

He had filled his hunger for curiosity, and the thought of returning to his hunting materialized in his brain. With that in mind, he turned to step away, but as soon as he moved, another seedling crashed into his chest, making him stutter back in an effort not to crush the precious soul.

The sound of crunching leaves caught your attention, and you rotated on your heels in the direction of Neteyam. He kept his head low and out of your sight before he shook his head at the seedling which hovered in front of his face.

You couldn't see anything, but the sound was distinct, so you darted your eyes around to try and find anything to defend yourself with, but your search was broken when you found a white seedling floating just to the side of Neteyam's hiding spot.

You gasped as two other seedlings joined the beautiful sprite. They all floated towards you, pushing air down as they climbed higher and higher up on their way to you.

Neteyam let his eyes leave the seed in front of his way and looked towards you. Your face was lit up at the sight of the seeds, and it seemed their appearance had taken all of your focus off the pain and the gadget in your hand because you softly stepped forward to greet the specimens.

He watched as you steadily reached out a shaky hand to the wood sprites, laughing uneasily as they all gently landed along the uninjured arm.

You looked so excited at their presence, and that confirmed his suspicions of your scientific origin.

You took another step forward, and Neteyam cursed mentally as he turned to leave, but again, the seed of Eywa stopped him with its stagnant stature. The sign was clear. He had to speak with you. He rolled his eyes and held back a sigh but acted to comply with the great mother's desires.

He stood to his full height and stared at you with a frown. You still hadn't noticed him, but when he smacked the lower branch away and tramped forward, the white sprites took off and left you to yearn after them with a sad stare.

What was so special about you? He wondered. You were just another arrogant human who was part of an unkillable mass that had arrived here with an open palm.

Your eyes then fell from the vacating pure souls and settled on the 10ft Na'vi in front of you, which caused a shriek.

Immediately you stumbled back and tried to start protesting for your life at the sign of his lethal bow, but you stopped when you noticed he was staring at you with an unwavering eye filled with mystery.

You called something to him, but he only understood the odd word. You had jumped straight into elucidating that you were not a threat which made him want to laugh. 

Of course, you weren't a threat. You were standing here like the perfect prey for any number of predators to pounce on and devour. He could kill you with a single toss, and the idea that he feared you was amusing him.

He took another step, and this time you crouched down, letting your hand leave the wound to try and coax him to stay away from you like he was a stray animal that could be redirected.

The bright blood on your hand shone in the light, your face was pale compared to the rest of you, and he felt a pang of pity for you, making him scowl at himself for his stupidity.

He stepped forward some more, his tail flickering behind him with agitation as he pulled the bow over his head and let the string fall over his chest.

"Who are you?" He growled as he marched further into the clearing.

His body was tall and very masculine, his muscles hugged his body as he looked down at you with contempt, and those were your only thoughts as the Na’vi man looked ready to murder you.

Your face wrinkled in confusion as you shrugged one of your shoulders at his words, your head shook from side to side in order to tell him you had no idea what he was saying.

He rolled his eyes at your conceited unknowingness, but just as he was about to start yelling at you, he paused as your scent hit him.

The standard note of human was definitely there, but there was something else, something sweet that had him hooked the second now that it registered in him.

At first, he thought you had used some chemical warfare on him, but when your confused face only intensified as he took a carnivorous inhale at the air, he knew the fragrance was only coming from your skin.

He took another stride, and the movement triggered your fight or flight. You tried to stand to run, but he grabbed your intact arm and gently yanked it forward, making you drop the communication device to the ground with a clatter.

You tried objecting to his harsh handling of you and cursed at him in English. He ignored you, and without further conversation, he shoved his face into the crevice on your neck and pushed your jaw up with his forehead so that your neck lay before him with no guard.

He took deep whiffs of your scent and nestled deeper so he could bring in as much as his body and the restrictive oxygen mask you were wearing would let him take. His tail flicked wildly behind him as he tried to commit the smell to memory. It smelt something crossed between a sugary treat and a warm fresh wood scent that made his brain fizz with the desire to have more of it closer.

He could feel your heartbeat on his cheek, but he ignored it. His need for the scent consumed him. He was only brought back to reality when you let out a whine at his very close touch that was making you uncomfortable.

He ripped his head back and shook it wildly, trying to shake off the remnants that tickled his brain. Your eyes that had originally been looking at him with confusion were now eyeing him up and down with uncertainty.

He dropped your arm and felt his body surge at the loss of touch. You faltered backward as he let you go but didn't try to run again, which he appreciated.

He was attracted to you, that was certain, and it made his body lurch with disgust, but before he could spend longer than a few seconds being disgusted, the scent of your skin drilled its way back into his brain, and he was overcome with butterflies that attacked his stomach.

You spoke again; this time, he identified the words 'Na'vi' and the name Max from your speech. He cocked his head, and you watched as his braids fell to one side of his head as he brought his face closer to yours to stare into your eyes.

You took a step back, but he followed you. He decided to ignore whatever you were saying and let his exploratory nature grab hold of him. He extended his head around to stare at your body, and you let him touch you as he pleased with your chest heaving in anxiety that at any moment he would have his fill of interest peaked and he would draw back to kill you.

His fingers came to your waist and gripped the lower hem of your elastic shirt, and pulled at it before letting it snap back, which made you smile a little despite the fear raging through you. Perhaps the blood loss was making you hysterical.

His ears twitched at the sound of your giggles that accompanied the smile, and his scrutinizing eyes turned softer as he reached forward and repeated the action, letting you huff with amusement.

He continued his curious search of you and let his fingers prod your cargo pants. You watched with your own set of prying eyes as he leaned down so he could gather the material between his fingers and rub it together to feel the texture. He let it fall back into place and pulled himself back up to his full height, which made your smile falter as you reminded yourself he was not a curious child and was a fully grown Na'avi hunter, if his bow was anything to go by.

The silence was loud, but it communicated volumes. You could tell by his erratic behavior that he wasn't going to kill you, but he was clearly fighting an inner conflict with his actions.

You didn't know much about the natives, but you knew one thing that had been hammered into your head since orientation day on this planet, Na'vi killed sky people on sight, and this man didn't look like he was reaching for his bow anytime soon, so what was he doing?

You tried your luck and reached out your hand to poke his bare chest before quickly retracting, making him let out his own small chuckle at your scared actions. You smiled cautiously before you reached out and ran a finger over the string of his bow that dug into his front, watching his chest shiver at your touch before you finally pulled back and stared up at him.

He let his smile disappear, and his frown replaced it as he stuck out his hand to grab your oxygen mask, but this seemed to be a step too far because you pulled back and quietly said something he didn't understand, but he knew it was a denial.

He was satisfied with his investigation and pulled himself back to look down at you while you awkwardly returned your hand to clutching the hole in your body that wasn't meant to be there.

Neteyam felt the pity in his heart worsen at your predicament, and he decided that he wanted to help, even though his naturally taught ethics told him it was wrong. He knew that the only reason his body was reacting to you like this, along with the cause of the omens from Eywa, meant one thing, but he was trying to suppress that epiphany for the moment.

He couldn't understand your language enough, but the device that lay on the ground behind him was obviously crucial to you. Hence he walked over to it and picked it up, this caused a chain reaction as you stumbled forward and tried to take it back from him with a yelp of protest, but he placed his hand on your forearm and gently pushed you back, which calmed you down enough that he could look at the tool.

He stood up and held the com to his face to see if it was fixable. Jake had a few of these around, and Neteyam had to wear one for a long time when he was younger, but this technology was slightly newer than anything Neteyam had seen for a while.

He flipped the collar over in his palm, and to his surprise, he immediately zoned in on the issue. The chip that powered it was simply dislodged and needed to be adjusted, so he pushed it back gently and shook it a few times, much to your aggrievement, and then when the red light sparked back to life he crouched down and placed it in your hands.

Your eyes widened in surprise as the collar was now partially workable.

You looked up at him, and his breath caught as your beautiful eyes gazed into his own with such pure gratitude in them that it made him want to keep you close to him forever, as his mate.

And just like that, the epiphany broke the surface of his mind and his pupils swell as he realized why you smelt so divine and why your laugh made his body weak. You were his mate. Even without the means to make the neural link or any of the accompanying features found on Na'vi women that were deemed as attractive, he knew as he observed you desperately press down on the com and speak into it that you were his destined partner.

The intercom sparked to life, and he heard the sound of Max's voice come through it. This interaction only worked to intrigue him more than last time, as he tried to figure out what you were doing all alone out here with a broken body, seeking out the rouge scientists.

You quickly yelled back to Max with relief overthrowing your face, which made Neteyam smile again as he watched you let out a consoled chuckle.

You spoke for a few more seconds, and Neteyam let the sound of your strange accent wrap around him before you broke his trance and held up the collar to him. He quirked a brow, but you shook the device in your hand and nodded for him to take it.

He gently took the end of the com and brought it to his ear so he could listen to Max translate what was happening to him in Na'vi.

Max was shocked to find out it was Neteyam who had saved his exposed spy from Hell's gate, but he described your issue to Neteyam, and he agreed to take you to the laboratories on the edge of his village so you could be patched up.

He returned the device and pulled off his bow to set himself up to walk you through the wild to the labs.

You hadn't understood Max's translation, so you pulled the com closer and tried to remain polite as you smiled up at Neteyam, but he could tell you were not pleased with the improvised escort that was surely threatening to your tiny stature.

When the conversation was over, you sighed and dropped the intercom to your side, gripping it tightly as you looked back up at Neteyam, who was now tying his hair of individual braids up with a hair-tie while holding the bow between his teeth.

He looked like a beautiful angel from your angle as he effortlessly strung up his hair, showing off his triceps and pecs while his canines were left exposed around the wooden bow. He pulled an arrow from behind his back and fit it into the bow. Neteyam then set off into the woods again, with your body mindlessly following the god-like boy.

You watched him move; he was the most graceful thing you had ever seen. His attitude was strange, and while you couldn't understand a word he was saying, you finally identified his aura as one of interest and possible endearment rather than intimidation.

He looked over his shoulder and called out a sentence to you that once again you couldn't understand but you just nodded and tried to sustain his pace.

He looked over his shoulder every few steps, but it was clear you were struggling to keep up with him as the pain from your injury was now becoming prevalent thanks to your adrenaline levels being brought down.

Neteyam grumbled something under his breath but turned to you, sliding the bow and arrow over himself again as he stepped towards you.

You backed up a little as his alarming size came toward you, but he reached out and gently touched your shoulder so you could see that he was trying to suggest an idea.

"You're never gonna get there if I don't carry you, come here", he stared into your eyes, repeating the sentence at least three times before he tut his tongue in annoyance and reached down to hoist your legs into his arms so he could carry you bridle style.

You screeched, and his ears flickered at the sharp noise before you hissed out and clung onto him as tightly as you could while he rose you high above the ground. He could feel your heart rate speed up, and he was dumbfounded as to why you were reacting this way to him just holding you.

You said a word, and it rang a bell in his head as he tried to remember it.

Oh, height.

He quickly put you down, and you tried to relax your breathing after being speedily hauled into the air by about 7 or 8 feet and then replaced just as swiftly.

You tried to balance yourself on his leg as you felt your heart calm down, heights weren't your strong point, but you had to agree that it was going to be the best way to get there with the time restraint your injury put on you.

He spoke something else as he crouched down, putting himself at eye level with you.

"I can't understand you!" You hopelessly whimpered as your hand came to rest on his shoulder so you could try and take the pain off your other limb.

His ears downturned at the sound of your desperate groaning, and he remained silent for a second, looking off to the side in thought.

You took a deep breath, dragging his attention back to you. You stared into his eyes for a second before you nodded and held out your arm for him to take with a single word.

"Slow", your eyes tried to show bravery, but your body was still shaking like a leaf under his touch.

He felt a part of his body twitch at your word that was paired with heavy eye contact and an out-of-breath tone, but he ignored it.

This time he went much slower as he swept his hands underneath your thighs and lifted you into the air. He allowed you to get a good hold around his neck so that you weren't afraid of falling, lying to himself that the touch was for your comfort and not his own.

When you were to live with him once you agreed to be his mate, he had to get used to going slower with things. It was lucky for you that he had probably the best patience out of any of his family.

You weighed nothing to him, so he set off as soon as you were steady, and your fear slowly gave weight to amusement as his long legs steeped over each obstacle in his way that would have taken you minutes to clamber over with your one arm pinned to your side.

The whole way there, you could feel his grip around the lower part of your legs tighten when you tried to clamber closer to him, and you wanted to apologize for invading his space and deterring him from his task that he would have had to abandon to help you, but the words couldn't come out.

It took about twenty minutes of heel-and-toe walking before he finally managed to get you to the lab's opening.

Upon seeing the large metal containers, he screeched to a stop, and you looked at his face with confusion as he seemed to have caught your fear like a contagious disease as his face scrunched up. He didn't dare go any further.

Neteyam let his hands slip under your armpits and gently set you down on the ground. He looked down at you and then glanced at the containers behind you.

You were a sky person, and while he couldn't deny that you reeked of his mate, this was the most unlikely pairing anyone had seen.

You called out to him, not by name, as he hadn't told you, but he finally sighed and slid back down to a crouch as he found he had to do a lot when talking to you.

"I will be back for you, my mate, until then, look after yourself better, now go get patched up", he pressed one of his hands into the side of your head, and you lovingly pushed against his palm with a sad smile as you took his words as an apology for needing to go.

"Thank you--" You trailed off as you tried to use the silence to ask for his name.

"Neteyam", he stated with that boyish smile overtaking his features again.

"Neteyam", you repeated as you nodded, feeling the skin of his rough palm rub against you.

"You?" He found the word in English and spoke it with a heavy accent, making your smile turn to a grin.

"Y/n", you stated with a gleam in your eye.

"Y/n", he said the name verbatim to you and nodded to himself as the sound of a door opening ruined the moment.

He quickly pulled back from you and stood back up, allowing his height to take over the silent threat as Max stood on the steps to the metal lab with his hands raised to show he was unarmed as he called out to you and asked if you were all right.

"Goodbye, y/n", Neteyam’s accent was incredibly thick, and it made your skin shiver as he quickly put his fingers to his forehead and retracted them in a respectful farewell before he turned on his tail and walked back into the wilderness of Pandora, leaving you alone with your own kind.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

pleeeeaaaasee do more shane x reader (preferably gender neutral). Your writing is so good and the "After everything we've been through, you still don't think that I love you?" one broke me. You're a hurt/comfort master

HAH you've given me another idea from this ask alone (insp by my farmer getting alex's 8 heart event while married to shane)

Sorry gang I swear fluffier stuff with Shane is coming

.....

It was just a few days into summer, and Shane already had plans to change up his usual routine once again.

Ever since moving onto your farmland, he found himself getting more motivated to take longer walks. This morning, he planned on doing so after ensuring the crops were watered and the animals were well-fed.

He greeted the cows, rabbit, pigs, and chickens as they filed out of the coop and barn one-by-one, not letting any of them miss their daily pets. Seeing the ostrich and little green dinosaur emerge didn't faze him as much as it did the first time he saw them--he still had no clue how you acquired their eggs (especially one from the skull caverns), but you didn't treat them any differently.

They were both lovable creatures. Just like the blue chickens he introduced you to several months ago.

Knowing you raised some and kept them on the farm made him beam with pride, glad he got to stay here and help run things in your steed.

He wouldn't trade it for the world.

You set off for the beach earlier than usual today, having left a note on the table, and Shane opted to just hang back and repair some of the fences that were looking a bit worn out.

According to the TV, it was a "good luck day", and you hoped to find fortune in the form of a rainbow shell washed up on the coast. You certainly loved foraging them, but even if there weren't any around, you figured you'd go fishing.

Your husband wasn't the best at either skill, although a few hours after you left, he felt a little bored and decided to go visit the beach. Maybe you could use his moral support since other people--mainly Willy and Elliot-mentioned hearing you curse like a sailor when you were wrestling with a fish...or when said fish escaped your line.

He could be there to cheer you up, or teasingly bet on how many joja cola cans you'll fish out of the ocean.

That would be pretty funny, he thought.

So he headed off on his usual walking route, but instead of going to Cindersap Forest or stopping by Pelican Town's river, he ventured towards the beach, greeting whoever said "hello" to him.

Upon arrival, however, Shane stopped in his tracks as he noticed you weren't entirely alone on the beach.

It wasn't Willy, Elliot, Leah, nor that parrot kid you rescued from Ginger Island, but Alex.

He wouldn't have minded that so much....if not for the fact that you two were sitting awfully close together on the coast, overlooking the foamy waves. You were totally oblivious to his presence, so he hung back with suspicion.

Of course, he knew you were growing more sociable with the rest of the villagers, and he didn't want your marriage to be the reason you stopped talking to people.

Even so..something didn't feel right about this, especially as he watched you move closer to Alex, putting an arm around him. And when the younger male put his head on your shoulder, Shane's heart dropped.

You were talking, but obviously he couldn't make out what you were saying thanks to the noisy waves and annoying seagulls.

At this point, however, it became clear what was going on.

And it made him feel utterly sick to his stomach, his mind constantly circling back to one conclusion. Only one explanation as to why you'd ever be that close to Alex, and perhaps why you've been frequently leaving the farm earlier than normal:

You were seeing him behind his back, thinking he'd never find out.

He didn't know how else to interpret that. How else could he?

But of everybody in this town, why did it have to be the guy who reminded him of his youthful days in gridball?

The guy who radiated positivity and was always in high spirits?

The guy who wasn't old and weak and depressed...like him?

'I knew it..they finally got bored of me. But why would they do this?' Scowling, he felt like storming over and saying something, but he couldn't will himself to freak out here and now.

No.

Why bother?

Instead he decided to turn on his heel and storm back to the farm, nearly tripping over a rainbow shell as he did so. The saloon was closed, so he couldn't escape there...but he'll settle for rotting in bed until you come home.

You'll be back, and he'll confront you then.

.......

Coming back to the farmland around noon, you frowned a bit as you didn't see Shane anywhere outside. He wasn't at the mini coop like he normally was, and poor Charlie was looking for him.

"Where did he go, Charles? Hm?" With a soft coo, you kneeled down to pet the chicken. She clucked, her beak pointing towards the cabin, and you thanked her with a small handful of corn before continuing inside.

However, as soon as you stepped into a rather quiet house, all the excitement sapped out of you. You'd normally hear him playing video games or watching a Tunneler's game, but as you entered your shared bedroom...you found him just laying down, his back turned to you.

"Hey, honey." You sighed, relieved as you sat down on the mattress. "All that farmwork got tiring, huh? I understand. Thank you for doing it."

"........."

"..Shane? You still asleep?"

There was a long silence, only for it to be broken by a quiet sniffle, and your heart sunk, wondering what happened. "Hey, what's wrong-?"

As you put a hand on his shoulder, Shane flinched and rolled over to face you, his eyes red and watery, and his expression full of disgust...as though you did something wrong.

You've never seen him get this angry at you. Not since your first meeting with him. "Baby-?"

"No. Enough petnames, [y/n]." He huffed, sitting up and staring at you with contempt. "You don't get to act like everything's fine. Like I don't know what's really going on."

"...what?"

"Why were you with Alex today? Did he convince you I wasn't good enough for you anymore? That I'm past my prime?"

You blinked in bewilderment, wondering how on earth he knew that and why he was getting so upset. "Wha..you were at the beach? Why didn't you tell me?"

"That's..not important." He grumbled. "If you love him more, fine. Just tell me. I was ready for the day you'd finally get sick of me. But..to do that behind my back...I just..." Fresh tears brimmed his eyes as he clutched the mermaid pendant with a shaky hand. "I thought you were different..but I was wrong."

Now you were totally lost, heart racing as you tried to wrack your brain for any reason he'd assume that you were cheating on him with Alex. You knew he had some major jealousy issues, and he's been actively working through them with his therapist, but it was never this bad.

"Listen, I promise that what you saw isn't what it-"

"You don't have to lie. I get it. He's young, better looking...he's everything I used to be. So why don't I just go and you can have him live on this farm with you? At least he won't be a burden. At least he won't-"

"Shane just stop. Stop." You raised your voice, growing infuriated. "What in the hell made you think I wanna be with Alex when we're married?! When I've been nothing but there for you since I moved to town?! If you let me finish, I'll explain everyth-"

"Oh I'm sure you have a "perfect" explanation already lined up." He rolled his eyes. "Unless you can tell me why you were that close to him, I don't see why I'm even-"

"Today's the anniversary of his mom's death."

Shane blinked once.

Then twice.

Then three times.

"Wha..?"

"She passed away 12 years ago." Frowning slightly, you watched his expression shift wildly. "Alex was sitting there, crying his eyes out, and I just...wanted to comfort him. Like any friend would do. That's all."

At this moment, Shane felt like the biggest piece of shit in the valley, and his shoulders sagged. He didn't know what to say.

"We just hugged, and he told me about the good memories they had," you continued, moving closer to put a hand over his own. "Cross my heart, absolutely nothing was going on between us, honey. You really think I'd do that to you? To the man I love?"

"....I....I didn't know he lost his mom.." He mumbled, still at a loss for words.

"Well it's not exactly something he'd share with the whole town. And I was gonna keep it between us, but you wouldn't let me explain myself." You reminded him with a small huff, and he looked down in guilt.

As quickly as your anger rose, however, it was quick to disappear as you watched him. He seemed very torn up and ashamed for accusing you of cheating, but you could understand his perspective and why he saw it in that light.

You would've been suspicious, too.

"Look..I know it did look like something else was going on. And I'm really sorry-"

"No, no..I should be sorry for acting like a total dickhead." Shane gazed back up at you, and his face tore your heart to shreds. "I didn't mean to freak and accuse you of anything. You were just comforting a kid who lost his mom and...I got angry for no reason. Without hearing your side. I shouldn't be like this..yet I feel like some bitter old man.."

"Hey, you're not old." You shook your head, cupping both sides of his cheeks and giving him a gentle kiss. "You're barely 30."

"Still..my body feels that way." He lightly chuckled, enveloping you in a tight hug. "And again, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, [y/n]...I promise I'm working on these stupid jealousy issues."

"I know you are, and I forgive you." Smiling, you squeezed him tight. "We're gonna be okay."

"Mhm..also..um..I found something for you." He let you go and dug into his jacket pocket for an unknown item, and when he presented it to you, the grin on your face was infectious.

"Oh my god..you found one for me?!!" Your eyes lit up, as you now held a beautiful rainbow shell in your hands.

Shane nodded. "Iridium quality."

"You're the best. I love you." Laughing, you brought him back into a hug, giving him a few more kisses. "And you said you sucked at foraging, huh?"

"Ah, well..just the "chopping trees" part. Picking stuff off the ground is easy." He shrugged, his smile bashful. "Glad you like it, sweetheart. Take it as my apology for that..um..misunderstanding."

"I forgive you a thousand times over. Now..I think I'll display this beauty in our aquarium. What do you think, Shane?"

"I think I'll go with and see."

You both hopped out of bed and headed over to where you kept the aquarium tanks, with Shane in better spirits than he was before.

He still felt guilty for acting that way towards you, but your everlasting patience and persistence with him prevails.

He's glad he picked up that rainbow shell for you.

[stickandthorn]

me when I’m a reiloran and it’s time to get crop circle beamed down to the heaven-esque place I only see through abstract interpretation in my dreams for roughly half an hour because the shitty kid of one of the evil empire’s top dogs wants me to to unlock a door or maybe punch someone before I get teleported back to my 9-5 as a Bone Smith.

[boxheadpaint]

man goes insane about pokemon- the post. Following the readmore is copy-pasted notes that are endgame/postgame spoilers regarding some mysterious things that are simply put driving me up tha wall.

if you have any of your own notes to contribute, please for the love of god feel free.

-the case of paradox pokemon is extremely strange, and this is even pointed out in the game itself. if the professor was inspired to bring the pokemon back to their own time by a book… that documented said pokemon before the professor was even born… -pokemon that are even pointed out to have Not Existed In Any Form at the given times, or at least not in the past (slither wing, a lack of volcarona in the fossil timeline) -just where are these paradox pokemon from? are they even really pokemon? is it even from our own world, let alone time? -as a side note, just why are they so aggressive… EXCEPT for the players legendary?

symbols -the plate symbol. a similar symbol appears on the whiteboards in the professors research station, seeming to represent time (hourglass shape, possibly two zeroes on the side representing present time??). -the crop circles. laid over an un-rotated map, the cross over the shrines locations. additionally, they appear almost like arrows pointing in the cardinal directions, again not disimilar to the shrines. in such case however, what is it doing in area zero? -the hexagonal symbol. likely representing terastal phenomenon, it has unreadable notes around its sketch in the book. the terastal phenomenon and this symbol however could relate back to the bizarre 'disk-shaped' entity as well (which on that note, how is the illustration to be interpreted? theres a recognizably beastly creature near the top, but it doesn't quite resemble a disk. at the same time, very little does in the picture, as the depiction seems somewhat Spherical. is it possibly an extra-dimensional pokemon? 4th dimension time as a direction smething something) -fourth symbol. what the fuck no seriously i cant find anything on this. my best guess was oh it represents the curl of the ride pokemons tail and its saddle-esque part, but its hard to say much as i have not found it anywhere ingame aside from the corners of the book wth the other symbols. theres no mention, no acknowledgement, no presence in area zero. What the hell is this?

as a final note of interest, if the 'imaginary' creature depicted in the books comes to manifest in possible dlc, then you will know for sure something is fucking weird. are these things manifested from thought and will, like the ruinous quartet? are they from another world entirely, or even from another dimension?

and in the end, just where did the professor go when they entered the 'time machine'?

[maythedreadwolftakeyou]

Hiii, do you have any tips for drafting out embroidery patterns? I've got one in mind, but drafting it out and color picking is so nerve-wracking!!

[Hi!!!! this got kinda really long so I'm gonna crop it under a read more. And I honestly don't have any real training/instruction in fiber arts so this is just how I do things, and probably others do them very differently!]

Haha so my fandom embroideries are VERY different from my non-fandom personal pieces in this respect. For non-fandom things i just kind of throw myself in like WAHOO FREEFORM LETS GO and go for a kind of messy colorful approach that ends up as things like this:

Versus my fandom stuff is way more structured and designed to fill space, be very precise, etc. So for those I do go in with a digital mock up of the design I make in photoshop, that I then color in, and then as my last step translate to thread colors.

For my Dragon Age series. this has been because I'm specifically trying to mimic the stained-glass style of art you see in parts of the game like the dialogue wheels, some icons, windows, etc. The icons in particular were really easy to copy into embroidery because they already come in handy circles:

This is mostly because I have desperately wanted to pick up stained glass work as a hobby for like 6 years now. As in once every 3-6 months I put everything I'd need to start doing it into an online shopping cart and look at the price total and then sadly close the window because I just don't actually have any space I could do it in (I live in a 2bed apartment so i have no garage or yard or anywhere it wouldn't make everything else a mess or be a hazard). The day after one of those events I impulse bought and completed a floral embroidery kit from the craft store and kinda was like... ok, well, I did this once how hard can it be to use this medium to mimic the hobby I wish I could be doing? Plus, it's only like 60 cents per color! I can afford that! So I took the first design I wanted to do, the romance icon, and basically redrew it sloppily in photoshop, then freehand-copied the design onto fabric and stitched it the next day:

I learned a lot from this piece and changed my approach a little. Here you can see I tried shading in the parallel direction to my thread, which looked messy and added texture, so now I shade horizontally to my thread direction instead.

But it gave me a basic approach for turning the Tarot cards or DA Keep tiles (or any other art!) into embroidery patterns, which I couldn't copy as directly into this really smooth stained-glass style. There's a basic process I follow when doing these conversions that generally follows the same order, which I'll go through below.

STEP 1: SHAPES

The first thing I do is pick the shape of my display frame which is usually a circle, but could be an oval or rectangle too, since I hang the finished pieces on my wall to have nice way to show them off. I like to fill the whole space so knowing the size and shape of what I want the finished project to look like is a good goal for me. Since I am doing fandom pieces I want to be recognizable, I do stick pretty close to the "original" character design/art, but you can absolutely change as much as you want and freehand draw your own interpretation instead. If you're doing original art just substitute the below composition notes with "sketch out roughly what you want it to look like". I personally do my pattern drafting digitally as I find it easier, but you can do this part by hand too.

First, I keep the reference image I'm working off of open next to me while I work, and draw in the shape of my frame (here, a circle). If I'm adding in the little border to be fancy, I add a second inner circle. I keep these as their own top layer so I always know I'm working within the final "frame" and don't spend time designing any section that will fall outside it. Then I will take copies of the reference image and knock the layers down to 25-50% opacity, and start moving them around underneath the 'frame' layer until I like the way their positioning looks as a composition. Sometimes elements of a card I want to include don't all fit in, so I'll chop the section out and add an additional layer to throw in (like the background circle things in the Hermit design below). Or I'll just freehand things like adding much bigger diamonds behind Solas in my Hierophant design because I did NOT want to do 1000 tiny ones. Then once I'm satisfied with the general composition, I'll use the plain ol circular brush tool to trace out the major shapes of each element. I try to keep in mind that I can't go too small, and curvy lines are more difficult to fill in than straight ones. I usually do a rough messy version first, make it mostly transparent, and then a cleaner and more precise one over that.

(you can see parts of the rough one on the left and the fully 'cleaned up' on the right for the Hierophant design)

Now: depending on what you are doing next with the pattern, this might be where you stop and start coloring. If you are planning to freehand your design or just trace it onto fabric (or even print it onto fabric here), there's no need to do more than this kind of lineart! However, if you are working digitally and want to create a scalable vector so you can print it at different sizes, you can use the pen tool in photoshop to trace your design and make a "work path" of the lineart. However, another note: THIS PART IS VERY FRUSTRATING AND TEDIOUS BECAUSE THE PEN TOOL WAS CREATED BY THE DEVIL TO TORMENT US. It is so so so easy to accidentally delete a line or even the whole path and not notice later on. Ask me how I know 😭 Anyway I'm not going to include a pen tool tutorial because I don't even know how to use it well and have to google or watch videos every other time I try to use it. But if you can muddle through it gets you some really clean lines that eventually look like this:

With the work path selected, you can select the brush tool/size/color and use the "stroke path" option to create lineart of the vector. Then you can save this as a transparent png file for use at different sizes and for printing and it looks so nice and clean! one of the big benefits to this is that you get really fine lines that are easier to be precise with stitching on. This is extra perfect if you are printing the design directly onto your fabric (which you can do with an at-home inkjet printer for designs under 8inches wide, as long as you stick a piece of stabilizer on the back of your fabric and cut it down to printer sheet size--this is what I do and can make another post about that process if people want haha), or if you are printing onto transfer paper like you can buy at craft stores.

This is where I end the lineart for my designs. After I have this, I move on to the next phase, which is...

STEP 2: COLOR

For interpreting my designs into thread, I start by thinking of it as flat colors first. You can't "shade" as easily with threads as you can with things like paint or brushes in digital art (though you can A Little, which I will get into), so to start color planning I pick the "main" color each section will be in the piece.

For the existing icons this was simple--I kept the same sections as the original designs, so for each I just color picked or eyeballed the color in photoshop and colored it in (but you could do this on paper with pencils, markers, whatever as well--they don't need to match your threads exactly and usually won't, it's just to give you an easy reference to follow as you go). For the tarot cards which were more complicated in coloration, I just did my best and went with what looked good next to each other, even if it was a little off the original art. It will be off more later anyway when you have to pick threads so don't stress it too much honestly. I will often make layers with different color options and turn them on/off for direct comparison to try to determine what I think looks best as well, like below where I was debating between more blue/desaturated for the background or brighter colors.

I do wanna note I have regrets about the color selection, shapes, or shading in EVERY SINGLE ONE of my finished pieces. But no one else ever comments or probably even notices! One aspect of this hobby is just learning to be satisfied with what you've made and using what you learned to get closer to your preferences next time. I'm only going back and redoing some of my designs' colors because I want to make it easier for others to choose on the patterns I sell, more than I care for just for myself. Also since I'm doing this lineart/stained glass looking approach where I go over the distinct shapes with black thread at the end, it means I get these clear delineations between sections you might not necessarily have in your own pieces, and that's ok.

Ok right. Now while shading/coloring in detail is hard with thread, you CAN make whats essentially dithered gradients. "Dithering" in the concept of art means using 2 (or more) colors to give the impression of a third color, or to gently scale between the existing binary rather than a hard line. Think of it like blocky pixel art or gameboy game images. If you're doing needlepainting, you use really small stitches close together to get this effect, which translates to "smaller pixes"--if you look at the jellyfish in my first photos that's a very messy casual version of that. If you want a better example, I recommend looking at @ammocharis 's pieces like these in her pinned post, which are truly amazing! I simply do not have the patience myself 😂 For my stained glass style, I work only in very long straight stitches, so I can only shade in one direction and have to be a little more precise with it.

So for shading, I think about in each section which direction my threads might go. Then perpendicular to that direction I pick which side will be the light one and which the darker one. Sometimes I color this in on my pattern mockup, but sometimes I don't! Or I'll only do it for certain sections to make sure I don't forget. Like for my Tower design I only colored it as flats, and waited until I selected threads to decide how the shading would go. I am currently working on a smaller, simplified version of my Hierophant design and I did add shading digitally for that one just for fun. But it's not as important as having the flat color version you can use to quick-reference how you want your design to go while you're stitching. You might also notice I don't actually color my gold--I just throw in a stock image of gold foil for that layer so I can't confuse it with any of my yellow thread sections.

Here's a close up where you can kind of see what I mean by the "dithered" effect between colors--some are more obvious (like the red on the far left or middle orange) and others pretty subtle (dark grey to dark red on the wolf face):

Now, while I use single layers of satin stitches for this, and just alternate thread colors increasing/decreasing as I go, you can accomplish the same thing with short overlapping stitches like with needlepainting, or with clusters of french knots, or whatever else. But in GENERAL you are going to be able to trick people into seeing gradients out of dithering best when you are using the same type of stitch for that whole area. So if I was using multiple stitch types like having french knots, daisy chains, ladder stitching or whatever else for some sections, I would keep those to contrasting areas/colors. A fantastic example of using different layered types of stitching to create more intricate color/texture in an embroidery would be these incredible tarot card depictions by @hattedhedgehog, which I like even better than my own embroideries. Here's his take on the Tower card as well for comparison to mine (I'm so in love with it!!!).

But anyway, at this phase, your design is actually still digital--the above is just to explain how it translates later in the process. The next step is...

STEP 3: THREAD SELECTION

I will admit here I am not great at this part. I am constantly second guessing my thread colors, and can spend over an entire hour in the thread aisle at the craft store agonizing over choices. Really, I think this is just one of those things that takes practice and you get better at it over time. What I have had the best luck with is actually printing out a reference photo of my design/the original artwork and taking it with me. If you already have threads you can do this part at home too, but DMC alone has over 500 colors and I definitely don't even own half that so I like to torture myself by looking at them all together on the thread racks. Plus Anchor and Artiste and whatever other brands there are out there. One approach is to just sit there and pick out what you want for each section and line it all up together on top of your printout. Or in the case of my Tower I laid a bunch of options out on top of my template in the hoop to guess how they'd look in the frame.

For me since I am also doing this dither shading thing, I also need 2-3 colors per sections depending on its size. Sometimes it's easy and the threads have a color just a little darker or lighter right next to them in the numerical lineup! Other times, there is no good match, or it looks too far away to shade nicely, or I want one to be a warmer or cooler tone than the other... which means a lot of standing and fretting to myself over it. I actually take a lot of photos at this stage because it can be easier to see how they will look in the end from a photo than in person to me? Idk why. Plus then after they get scrambled in my bag I remember wtf order I meant for them to go in later. But as long as you're not preventing other customers from shopping themselves, you can spend as long as you want staring at thread in the embroidery aisle and they won't kick you out unless it's closing time, so take your time.

Now, IN THEORY, you can sort of combine steps 2 and 3 by color-selecting from your threads and using that to color in the design. However I have tried this and it led to mixed success because the photoshop eyedropper brush simply isn't actually that exact (in my experience, it desaturates compared to what we actually see). And because then you have to have the threads on hand while you're coloring... which means you might buy ones you don't end up using if you don't like them. So I prefer to just use this as a refinement step where I pick threads based on the design colors, then will re-color the design a second time to match those threads more closely to be sure I like the effect.

I've even used this as a tool when I needed to adjust my color choices mid-project, by digitally coloring over over my WIP:

Or here's a design (but I haven't posted the finished piece yet bc it's a gift so shhh) I made with certain color tones initially, but after buying thread I re-did the color mockup to be more vibrant, because I liked those threads better in the store:

Once you have your thread, you can make yourself a little reference chart with the colors you intend noted on the sections you want them, like below:

(note: i didn't end up sticking to these colors because I ended up dying my own thread for several sections. And then forgot I made this entirely and picked new ones because I put the project down for a year between design and stitching. Sigh).

Or for my Solas pattern I did this in a really detailed way, which i am sorry but i have redacted because... i have it for sale now and don't wanna just give that away haha. But if you buy the pattern from my shop this is one of the files you'd get with it, for ease of reference. I do also include a text-only list of them as well.

Now I don't go to this much trouble for all my designs, just the ones I put up for sale (or plan to). You can also just make a text list of your color plans if you want. Though for fun I also have been using my scrap thread to make these little "color palette" keyrings for my finished pieces, so if I ever remake them or update their patterns I will know what the original colors were, plus I can compare what i used to other threads if I wanna change part of the design up. This step is absolutely not necessary and I'm just doing it because I'm selling the patterns now, but they are kinda fun to look at.

And don't forget.. if you start a section in a certain color and decide you don't like it, you can just cut the threads and pull them out! I did that with my original hierophant piece actually. I had an entirely different color for one row of diamonds i thought just clashed way too much with the others, so I used photoshop to paint over it with some alternate options until I found one I liked better. Then I cut away all the old threads and put in the new color. It can be a little harder to fill a piece the second time since the fabric will have stretched out a little, but as long as you're using a good stabilizer it usually doesn't move too much.

You can also just make test swatches on spare fabric to test before you add them to your real piece. I wish I'd done this for some color transitions that didn't end up looking the way I wanted, but I am simply too lazy most of the time. My exception is usually for metallic, satin, or sparkly threads, because I want to know how they feel while embroidering. But if you're really worried about a certain color or shade it's a good thing to remember you can just do.

SO yep, that's my general process for drafting patterns. I start with the shapes/design, then do my flat color version, then I pick my threads. Makes it sound easy and short when phrased like that :) But I can honestly spend 8-10 hours just on making the lineart and coloring it in. If I was better at art, probably this would be less, but I'm working with what I've got (not much) 😂 I think all aspects of this are also something that gets easier over time, but it will probably never look as bad as you worry when you start out. I think all my pieces look awkward and rough right up until I do the finishing steps and move them to the display frame sometimes.

I hope this was helpful and answered your questions!! Feel free to post/share your WIPs to ask for feedback or advice ever too :) I've only ever had people in the embroidery community on tumblr be encouraging and helpful to me, and I'm happy to answer any questions myself when I can or if parts of this were confusing

[some-pers0n]

Medic is a character I feel people agree is often mischaracterized in fanworks, but nobody can really settle on why that is or how people get to that assumption. What makes him mischaracterized? Does he care too much about his team? Too little? What even is his character to begin with? Does he even have one? Why should we even care since he's a comedic character designed to make you laugh first?

In other words, hi! I'm a fanfic writer who is extremely abnormal about Medic TF2. Those two things are going to be pretty central to the topic of this analysis piece of sorts. This right here is an essay that details the characterization of the Medic from Team Fortress 2 from the character's inception in development all the way until the final comic. Yes. The one character.

I'm doing this mostly as a way for a) me to comb through canon material and study this character so I can remind myself over and over again how he acts and b) me not-so-subtly venting about how much of a nightmare it is to find a fanfic that writes Medic in a way that aligns with his characterization in canon. It 100% is because I'm a picky whiny bitch who can't help but constantly read like a writer and overanalyze everything, but I think I'm not that alone when I say that the fandom's perception of Medic is...warped.

But why? Why do people seem to not exactly understand or get him? Why is it hard to find common ground on what aspects of Medic are in-character or not? Why do so many people have wildly different interpretations of it?

Short answer: Medic's character has shifted pretty drastically from his original inception in 2007 to the last released comic in 2017, retconning him from a cold and calculated dominating doctor to a silly and goofy mad scientist to make him more funny. There is no real proper true characterization and everyone can have their own interpertation.

Long answer? Well...let's get to that.

I should probably preface this with a couple main interpretations of Medic's character and how I think it's fascinating to understand where they come from. They also set the groundwork as to how these different characterizations of Medic come from.

There's what I like to call "Game Medic". Game Medic is the most common interpretation amongst players of the game. Redditors and the like point to this interpretation of Medic and hail him as the "true" characterization of him. Honestly? I can't blame them. Have you heard Medic's voice lines?? A lot of them are him barking orders at the others and hissing at his fellow mercenaries about their incompetency. It gives him the aura of a man driven to madness by having to take care of his teammates, reflecting that of what a lot of Medic mains feel.

Game Medic characterizes Medic mostly as a sadistic man who does not care for the other mercenaries. He's dominating and demanding, ordering around the others. He laughs maliciously when there's death and, famously, he believes that healing is not nearly as rewarding as harming others. People generally believe that Medic would experiment on the mercs against their will and torture them for his own amusement. It's not uncommon in these circles who believe in this characterization for theories and suggestions of Medic once being a Nazi to crop up.

I don't believe this is an accurate characterization of him, at least not anymore. I'll get into the details of why later, but the basic summation is that Medic had a rather different personality in 2007 that was later shifted and changed to be more comedic and silly as the years went along.

The next most common is "Fanfiction Medic". It's the Medic you see in those TF2 x Reader stuff, in the sense of Medic being reduced to a caring and compassionate man. It takes more aspects from the comics but does still miss the point of his character in favour of making him easy to sympathize and identify with. He can have aspects of his in-game portrayal, with him being overly critical of the one he loves. He's affectionate, sweet, and generally really caring and loyal, if possessive and easily jealous. In fanfic, he ranges from being dark and intimidating in a sexy and dominating way to a generally nice guy who just loves his partner.

It's the inverse of Game Medic and is often mocked and made fun of. You'll see memes that compare an overexaggerated version of Fanfiction Medic, with him being extremely submissive and soft, to Game Medic, who oftentimes acts in a more dark and violent way, perhaps bringing into his utter disregard for life and his obsession with experimenting using animal organs.

This interpretation should go without saying that it's also not exactly true to his character. Flanderizing him to the point where he doesn't even really identify with any traits or qualities from the game or comics. And for what? To make him more appealing? Or perhaps can people not fathom him acting in a more mean and rude way?

So...how did we get here? Why is Medic and his characterization such a divisive topic? Characters like Scout and Engineer seem to have pretty consistent characterization through and through all subspaces of the fandom. Why Medic? And, even still, why do most people have a hard time replicating his voice? His personality? Anything?

That's what we're going to talk about here today, folks.

Pre-MtM

Let's start with pre-TF2 days: Invasion. The concept art of Medic was very much in line with the whole orderly doctor archetype. Serious expression, clean pristine white clothes. There's a sense of authority and dominance to him. This is a man of reason and science. He is a mercenary. A Medic who heals his team from the brink of death.

This characterization I feel lasted until the style shift, where TF2 became more of a comedic and light-hearted game. This is where I believe the whole "disgruntled angel of death" stuff comes from. Medic retains that order and dignity, which leads into the game.

His voice lines, as previously mentioned, are aggressive and accusatory to his own team. I wouldn't blame you if you assumed he hated his team entirely. He claims that his skill is wasted here, that they're all useless idiots, so on and so forth. It characterizes him as having a grudge towards his fellow workers, only doing this because he enjoys the thrill of bloodshed and violence. It definitely paints him more as being a sadistic madman like the rest of them.

It's a characterization I've already covered, so for the sake of not sounding redundant, let's say that in 2007, the inception of Medic as we know, was predominantly portrayed as a somewhat sane, albeit sadistic and authoritative man of science. He is violent and generally looks down upon his coworkers, viewing them as half-wits who only get him killed over and over again. From his body language, he's a lot more rigid and straight than the others. It gives the impression that he's a proper, well-mannered serious character.

A major moment of characterization that could've happened was the scrapped original Meet the Medic video. I believe this would've come out in 2009 alongside the other Meet the Team videos like Meet the Heavy, Meet the Sniper, Meet the Soldier, etc and etc. While it isn't canon per se, it's still a topic worth mentioning and talking about.

Around this time, TF2 was becoming a lot more comedic than its original inception. Saxton Hale and Mann Co. had been invented, two things that would be a sign of what the game and property would eventually become. It's light-hearted and silly now! In the Classless Update of 2009, there were newspaper clippings showing a saga in which the King of Australia waged a war against a hill. The Spy VS Sniper Update added Jarate, a literal jar of Sniper's piss. Hats!! HATS!! The games were changing quite noticeably from how they originally were.

Which brings us to the scrapped trailer. A basic summary is that Medic is being interviewed on a train and talking about how he invented the medi-gun. It begins with a cold opening of a BLU Sniper bleeding out while a Soldier of the same team calls out for help. They are then promptly run over by a train, the exact one that Medic is on as the next shot is of him putting away luggage as the gore and guts from the run-over Soldier and Sniper splat onto his window. Again, comedic cold open played for laughs. It sets the tone of Medic as being a serious character with a streak of silliness to him. It also helps that there is a chessboard there, further characterizing him as an intellectual.

Medic then begins his story. It's a dark and terrible sight to see. The team is losing and the Heavy is bleeding out. He seems overworked, having to fend off against a Spy all by himself and quickly trying to save the Heavy. The rest of his team are useless, just standing there screaming as they're in pain. Again, further characterizes him as a savior to them. The only competent one.

Then, something quite new happens. Medic slaps Heavy in frustration once he flatlines. He...slaps Heavy. It's on impulse and clearly done in irritation, but that's quite different. Before, we've seen Medic as a somewhat calculated individual. He's not prone to rash choices out of emotions. He loves bloodshed and violence, but he's fairly contained and controlled.

I think the slap is one of the first examples of Medic's character really beginning to shift. It's done for laughs, yes, but it shows him as being emotional and prone to getting physically violent and angry. I can practically hear him saying: "Live damn you! Live!" as he slaps him.

Then, chaos erupts in the room as a stray rocket blasts into the room. It knocks over Medic and he's left to lie on the ground, watching as his teammates do nothing more than scream and flail around. Yet, through a series of events, everything falls into place to create a naturally healing liquid. He watches on in fascination and amazement before then scrambling back to Heavy, pumping more blood into the puddle of Healing Juice. Eventually, the Heavy is revived.

Then the Spy head is resurrected and begins screaming for death. Again, characterizing Medic as being morbidly comedic. Medic screams (startled by the dismembered head coming to life)(reasonable reaction) and begins shooting it. Again, impulsive and acting on instinct.

Once realizing that the Spy's head is invincible, he shoots it one more time, giggling after it. He GIGGLES. Do you understand me when I say that this is important? Look at him as he does that. Tell me he doesn't do a little "hooh!!" after that final shot.

Medic's laughter is a rather large part of his later characterization, as it goes deeper into the whole eccentric mad scientist archetype instead. It's when Medic is beginning to break away from that only characterization and become...silly. He's sadistic, but he enjoys it with whimsy and intrigue. He is fascinated by the Spy head.

Medic then begins work. It furthers his sadistic characterization by him using the Spy head as a means to hold nails and such. Something that we don't see too much later on from this is that Medic builds the medi-gun. Strange since most of the time the one who's characterized as building things is Engie. This is probably done to give a sense of competency to Medic. He's a man of science capable of doing anything.

The video ends on what would later become the scene of Medic walking out with angelic light behind him and doves flying out. Still has that whole angelic feeling to him AND also when his doves first come into play. Him being seen as a holy saviour feeds into his characterization of him having a god complex. He sees himself as a man who makes gods out of men.

So, what have we learned from this video? Well, Medic's commentary is quite proper and professional. In canon lore, he would've been interviewed by the Director. His characterization would be a man of science who views himself as the only really competent person on the team. However, he's prone to fits of impulsive rage and doesn't seem to feel any remorse for his outbursts. He is an inventor of sorts, who experiments and finds it fascinating to work with science.

I also believe this is when it's first shown that Medic likes experiments. Beforehand, he was just a doctor. Now? He tests and experiments and enjoys it. He's still a sadistic madman who loves violence, but all in all, he seems a little more comedic than he did in 2007.

The original idea was scrapped as the team believed that the short didn't exactly show who Medic was. It didn't comply with what players had when they thought of "Medic". Even back then, I think they wanted to have Medic's character be something else. Something more grandiose. Also, it doesn't really touch on Medic's gameplay. It just introduces the medi-gun. 

Medic's characterization would slowly grow more and more comedic as time goes on, moving away from the idea of him being a serious doctor and more of a mad scientist. What with new cosmetics and taunts. 

But...this isn't enough. No, not enough. He's still not as goofy as, say, the Soldier, Scout, or Demoman. Does he need to be? No, but he could be. He could be something more. 

In late June of 2011, the Über Update happened. It was a large-scale content update that not only made TF2 free-to-play, but also added several new cosmetics, weapons, and maps. But that's not what we really care about here, is it?

You already know what it is. The bombshell that changed Medic's character forever.

Meet the Medic

The short opens up with an action scene of Scout and Demo running away. Both are heavily injured and are trying to escape from enemy fire. Scout gets blown away and is then hit with three different rockets, sending him flying into a window where he calls out for Medic before cutting to the title card.

Instantly establishes Medic as a character who the others turn to for help. Good introduction to the character and his general role and premise as well as a neat prelude that catches the attention of the audience. But enough of that. It's time for the man himself.

Immediately we are hit with an iconic line of dialogue that establishes that, no, this is no serious and stoic character. This is a different, more interesting and developed version of Medic. 

"Wait, wait, wait, it gets better! When the patient woke up, his skeleton was missing, and the doctor was never heard from again!" [Mad laughter] "Ahh... Anyway, that's how I lost my medical license, heh."

Do you see me here? I am gripping my screen here in some attempt to grab you by the shoulders and shake you. Do you understand what this means in terms of characterization? How different he is? How much sillier he has gotten?!

Okay, let's start off by describing this. Medic is performing surgery on Heavy. Based on the bullet wounds, it's suggested that this impromptu surgery is happening mid-battle. Medic is talking to Heavy incredibly casually-- he's TALKING to Heavy. He should be under anesthesia considering he currently has his entire chest open.

This already characterizes Medic as casual when it comes to surgery. He's doing medical malpractice and, not only is he completely unbothered, but so is Heavy. It could imply that this is regular behaviour and Heavy is not worried.

This surgery is just as normal to Medic as a barber cutting somebody's hair. He's telling stories and generally having fun. He's having fun he'S HAVING FUN-- He's laughing and just generally enjoying himself! Being silly!!

Not to mention the story itself is dark. The punchline is that "the doctor stole a patient's skeleton and ran away". Medic laughs hysterically after this. He finds it hilarious. Not to also mention he follows it up with that little "that's how I lost my medical license :)"

Not only did he steal a man's skeleton, managing to keep him alive as implied with him saying that the patient woke up and noticed his skeleton was missing (so he managed to extract the man's skeleton and leave his nervous system in place), but he finds it funny! It's a comical story he finds enjoyment in telling others. He even seems proud of it and doesn't regret it in the slightest.

He doesn't even seem to really pick up on Heavy's face drop or that maybe he shouldn't be telling this story when he's got somebody on the operating table. Perhaps a little socially unaware? Eh, could just be headcanons bleeding into analysis.

He doesn't have his gloves on either. Just handling Heavy's heart without any gloves or anything. Again, casual medical malpractice that he does not seem bothered by in the slightest. This idea of Medic doing surgery and or experiments with his gloves off while putting them on for literally anything else also pops back up in the comics, but we'll get to that soon.

Let's not also forget that this man laughs. Like straight-up laughs like a mad scientist. Before, we had gotten voice lines of him are evil, malevolent cackles. He's mocking the ones that he kills. Here's?? It's a lot more whimsical and silly. It's something that'll be something he does a lot more later on: laugh when he's just generally happy or nervous.

But enough about that one line of dialogue. We have the rest of the short to watch!

Archimedes pops out of Heavy's chest cavity. Medic scolds him and shoos him away. He glances over back at Heavy. For a frame or two, his eyes are wide and his expression shifts. He realized that, y'know, maybe it's not too great from Heavy's perspective to have Archimedes digging around in there. He shrugs it off with an anxious laugh. Not to also mention he absentmindedly wipes the blood on his clothes. Again, very unprofessional and not very concerned about it.

Quick note about the symbolism of doves. Doves are seen as a sign of peace and whatnot, usually combined with angelic qualities. A dove with blood on it would imply that its original meaning is perverted in some way, especially if the dove is going out of its way for the blood. It's a harbinger of peace, but finds infinite more enjoyment indulging in the bloodshed and violence of the destruction it's meant to oppose. 

Medic grabs what I like to call a über implant. It's what gives the heart the ability to be übercharged. He sticks it into Heavy's heart, saying that, while most hearts cannot withstand the voltage, he believes that Heavy's heart will be able to take it.

He puts it near the beam of the quick-fix and it instantly explodes.

Medic overestimates the abilities of Heavy's heart, thinking it was strong enough. It was not. This characterizes Medic as being somewhat optimistic and believes his own theories based on no previous data or evidence. Throwing caution to the wind and hoping for the best.

However! He adapts. He thinks for a second. This is no setback. He quells Heavy's concerns saying that, no, this is the sound of progress, mein Freund. This shows that he is quick with improvisation and is completely fine with deviating suddenly whenever a new problem arises.

He digs into his mini-fridge, where he gets more characterization. He's got a collection of animal organs in here. He likes experimenting with them, so he keeps them on standby. He does not care if Heavy doesn't want an animal organ in him. This is a life-or-death scenario. Either he goes on out there without a heart or he takes the mega baboon heart.

There's also beer, implying that he likes it enough to keep it nearby. He also keeps one of Heavy's sandwiches, perhaps either for himself or for Heavy.

There's also the head of the BLU Spy, a cute callback to the scrapped Meet the Medic video. It's there with a battery keeping it alive as well as an ashtray. Medic dismisses its request to Die without a second thought. He's got more important business to attend to.

He attaches the über implant and holds it under the quick-fix's beam. Here, again, he laughs maniacally. It makes Heavy uncomfortable, but eh who cares about him this is the Medic essay. Medic is clearly enjoying the beauty of experimentation and playing god here, harking back to the idea of him having a god complex.

Finally, it's done. It glows. "Oh, that looks good," Medic says as he drops it haphazardly into Heavy's chest cavity. He doesn't even really know if this is a good sign or not. It's just glowing and beating in his hands. It's fine. Everything's all good.

Heavy asks the completely reasonable question of whether or not he should be awake. Medic laughs anxiously, a nervous tic it seems, and says, "Well, no, but as long as you are, could you hold your rib cage open a bit?" He's fully aware that Heavy shouldn't be conscious, but because of the continuous healing from his quick-fix, he doesn't really care.

Medic being aloof and generally disregarding the rules of proper medical care is a constant piece of characterization with him. Whatever works best he does. Headcanon territory here, but I believe that he finds the rules and restrictions to hold him down. Prevent him from doing what's best with such nonsense things like "ethics" and "moral codes" and "being a doctor doesn't mean you get to play god".

Heavy moves his hand to open his rib cage a bit, letting Medic push in the heart. However, Medic is too rough and goes too deep, snapping one of Heavy's ribs in the process. Medic's eyes widen, but he quickly recovers. "Don't be such a baby." He grabs it and pinches Heavy's cheek. "Ribs grow back." He tosses the rib aside and turns to Archimedes. "No, they don't."

He lies to make Heavy feel better. It also displays that Medic is physically affectionate of sorts when doing surgery. I personally headcanon that he's a very touchy-feely person who generally doesn't care what other people think as he grabs them by the shoulder or cheek, but, again, headcanons. Also! Ribs do grow back, which implies either a) Medic doesn't know this or b) the TF2 universe works a bit differently.

The surgery is complete. Does he check to see if any of the valves, arteries, or veins line up? Nope! Grabs the quick-fix and heals Heavy back up. He grins wickedly while doing this, still enjoying the art of surgery and experimentation.

He helps Heavy up and smiles, saying the: "Let's go practice medicine" line. He likes those quips.

He suits up (putting his gloves on for once) and comes out of the base. Quick note here about the soundtrack. I neglected to mention how much the three songs attached to Medic perfectly reflect his character, from Archimedes being plucky and a little silly, to A Little Heart to Heart being more sinister and perverting the more light-hearted tune of Archimedes, to Medic! being a full-on jazzy piece of glory (and also the best song). I could go further into all three tracks, but let's just do some basic analysis of the first bit of the song here.

The song begins with an angelic choir, which, again, paints Medic in the light of a holy figure that saves and protects the others. Then, it devolves, getting darker and more menacing before the saxophone, trumpets, bass guitar, and drums kick in, going back to the usual TF2 style.

Medic is a mad mercenary like the rest of them. He puts on a facade of being proper and angelic, but he's no different than the others.

It all comes together with him walking out, a radiant white light behind him as his doves fly out. Combined with his steady expression, he seems like an angel who's come to save them all. At least until the song shifts, where he grins and begins to heal the others.

So on and so forth. The next part isn't as character-defining, mostly just a display of Medic's role in the game because, like healing. It does a better job of showing what his class does than the scrapped version, I'll give it that. He heals Scout and Demo before shifting focus back to Heavy.

An onslaught of BLU Soldiers are closing in on them. Heavy glances back, asking if Medic is sure that this plan will work.

Medic laughs, saying that he has no idea. Again, he doesn't know. He doesn't care. He's having fun and is just experimenting willy-nilly without a clue as to whether it'll actually work. He just hopes.

He flicks the switch and, lo and behold, it works. Heavy is übercharged and they march on to victory. The short ends there, with a small epilogue showing the rest of the mercs getting their own über implant surgery. Again, the final scene shows Medic's lack of care as Archimedes is implied to have crawled into Scout's chest and been sealed up when it was over.

Whew!! Two thousand words of analysis on one four-minute short. But, I assume you can understand why, no? This short is monumental when it comes to characterizing Medic. He's not stoic. Quite the opposite! He's careless when it comes to following proper procedures and order. He is a giggly mess who chuckles and laughs at almost anything, nervously or not. He's concerned when Heavy shows anxiety and uncertainty. He's generally a lot more goofy and silly here, you know?

He now instead mostly mirrors the eccentric mad scientist archetype. Laughing, experimenting without a care, and generally being a couple screws loose. Instead of the cold, calculative bloodthirsty character he once was, he's a lot more close and emotional here.

This characterization becomes the basis of what the following taunts and voice lines would be about. His Halloween voice lines are a lot more silly, with him laughing a lot. His Medimedes cosmetic is him screaming in agony and laughing maniacally about his new predicament.

If I may, I want to quickly talk about the Sec-Op cosmetic lines. Sec-Op I personally interpret as a fabricated evil dark side. I don't think of Sec-Op as "Medic's evil secret thoughts" and more of a force that's attached to him that acts like how a typical normal evil dark side thingymabobber works. The joke with the cosmetic is that Medic is as evil as Sec-Op, but is more casual about it. Of course, other people can see it as something else, I just think of it like that.

What I particularly want to talk about are two curious lines. Sec-Op questions whether or not Medic worries he's going mad. Medic doesn't mind. He doesn't care. Even if he is, it's not the end of the world. However, he gets extremely offended when Sec-Op suggests that the other mercs think that Medic is crazy.

Medic gets insulted when others think of him as mad, yet he himself is fine with it. Why? I think Medic himself cares a lot about how he's perceived. He claims he doesn't. He does. If he's thought of in a way that he doesn't want to be thought about, he gets upset. He doesn't care about what other normal people think of him since any conversation they have will come out as negative, but with the mercs? Nah man. Nah...

The ego of this man is a central part of how I view him. He likes being praised and admired. He likes being lifted up and viewed as a god amongst men. He wants to defy the laws of nature just because he feels like he's better than anybody else. He's a little goofy that way, y'know?

Then, of course, we have Expiration Date. I promise I'll try to be a little less exhaustively wordy here since a lot of his characterization is still the same.

Medic and Engie have been experimenting with the teleporters and bread. When Scout, Soldier, and Heavy return from their own trip to get the intel, the pair break the bad news. Here, Medic exhibits characteristics of his in-game self. It could definitely be because of how dire the situation is (they're all going to die in a matter of days), but it's worthy to note.

They don't entertain Scout and instead get straight to telling them about it. When Engie teleports the bread in, Medic tears it apart, proudly showing off the disgusting insides. He tells them all that these green blobs are tumours with a wide, grin. He seems somewhat amused by it, contrasting with the rest of them being confused or mournful.

When asked about how long it'll be, he quickly calculates in his head that they have roughly three days to live. He says it pretty dramatically too. Prissy drama queen.

Engie and Medic then curiously enough spend the next three days experimenting with the bread. Apparently, they were so busy as to not even attend Spy's bucket list meeting. Curious bit of characterization. Engie and Medic both care enough about the team to spend their last few days trying to find some sort of reason for these tumours and possibly a cure. They care about their team (or at the very least their lives) on some level.

Engie teleports bread. Medic grins as it appears in front of him, still humoured by seeing teleportation in action. Or, perhaps he notices it changing and shifting. Regardless, the bread attacks him. Not much to note here other than he's screaming loudly and dramatically. Again, prissy drama queen. He's only having a big bread monster lunge directly at his jugular. Get a grip.

Engie and Medic return to Spy and the rest of them, telling them that, no, they aren't dying in three days, but rather that it's only bread that gets the tumours. Instead, as Medic puts it: "It's some form of self-aware beauty mark that only metastasizes in an environment of pure wheat" before then shaking around the bloodthirsty monster and showing it off. He's just happy and excited to be alive and show off that, no, this is just a bread problem. Everything is all great.

Until Soldier says that he's been teleporting bread non-stop for three days.

Medic tosses the jar aside and rushes towards Soldier, shaking him around. Again, harking back to that moment of physical frustration in the scrapped Meet the Medic short. Him being impulsive and prone to sudden mood shifts is still a part of his character.

They fight the bread monster, they win, Medic corrects Soldier when he says that they'll live forever, and then he rejoins Engie as the both of them inspect the bread monster. Looks like the two of them will get to keep on experimenting.

And there we are. I could touch on the other shorts, but this is already long enough and those shorts are just repeating the same information. Meet the Medic is vital to the characterization of Medic now. Everything in the comics and shorts with him happens because of what Meet the Medic set up.

And, well, speaking of the comics, why don't we talk about those?

Comics

The comics notably do not feature a lot of Medic, at least the ones previous to the mainline comics. The comics are much more entertained with the stories of Soldier in particular. Understandable, Soldier is an almost entirely comedic character (until the comics decide to randomly throw in ideas of him being repulsed by the idea of being a civilian and can only really function in a war setting). However, it does leave the others lacking in a lot of characterization while we get a bunch of Soldier trivia.

But enough about me quietly complaining about the comics, let's talk about the issues where Medic appears!

He appears in A Fate Worse Than Chess, but doesn't do much other than watch the TV playing Saxton's message and then prepare himself for battle. In Shadow Boxers...also not too much. Just sorta dismisses the meeting and says goodnight (??? it's like midday???) before heading off. Nothing really to write home about.

Gargoyles & Gravel is where he actually gets some proper screen time again. He's experimenting on a jack-o-lantern with Engie. As far as characterization goes, he's repeatedly shown to have connections to Heavy and Engie. I'll get to Medic and Heavy soon enough, but with Engie, Medic seems to enjoy experimenting with him. They collaborate on projects and work together.

This is no different. Medic has implanted a brain into the pumpkin, one that belonged to a criminal who tried mugging him. This also implies that Medic has zero qualms about just incapacitating and experimenting on people. Personally? I like headcanoning that he cares more about his team than he does the average person, so he doesn't really feel any sort of guilt or remorse when just grabbing somebody off the streets for a healthy amount of medical malpractice. If he is performing on the mercs, he cares a little more. A Little.

Regardless, Medic is dressed up as Viktor Frankenstein, a matching costume for Heavy's Frankenstein's Monster costume. Again, comparing him to famous fictional mad scientists. Also quite cute.

Medic is again not wearing his gloves. He also declines Engie's offer for a beer, saying that he doesn't drink during surgery. Well, at least he cares enough to not drink during surgery, but y'know. Curious how this is the only real thing he seems to care about. They revive the person's consciousness, having them possess the pumpkin. Medic then says that the pumpkin could "scare the children straight". Does he not like kids or just find them hooligans? Perhaps he just likes seeing people scared. Or maybe it's just Halloween dialogue.

Anywho, Engie takes the pumpkin away and Medic reappears at the end to hold his bonesaw with a wicked smile.

So, now, time for the actual comics.

For the first couple of comics, Medic is nowhere to be seen. He's one of the characters shrouded in mystery for a while. Pauling wasn't able to track him or Engie down. Where could he be?

Then, we learn that he's still alive and well, but now working with Gray Mann as the new Medic for the TFC BLU team. But wait, those are the bad guys!

Medic's introduction scene in the comics establishes a couple of things. One, he's still the same ol' medical malpractitioner who's been busy sewing baboon uteruses into some of the team members. He's excited to work with them. Literally. He brings up how they're "blank canvases", saying how their previous Medic must not have experimented on them.

Secondly, he's still pretty lax with morals. The comics definitely make it more clear how he's unaware that maybe people don't want animal organs sewn into them, whether they know it or not. If asked about it, he brushes it off and says: "Eh, it's not like it's hurting you in any way that we know of yet" before quickly switching topics. 

Another thing of note is that he explicitly lied to the TFC Scout. Interesting. He told him that he was going to fill a cavity, only to then sew three baboon uteruses into him. He's a lot more careless and reckless with the TFC team. Or maybe he also was with his previous team. Again, personal headcanons bleeding into analysis, but I don't think Medic cares nearly as much about the TFC team as he does with his main team. But, again, disregard that if you will. Medic simply just being a lying little prissy bastard is also equally as valid.

The ending panel of the scene has Medic consider and bask in the glory of his "latest triumphs" going toe-to-toe with his "earliest experiments". The phrasing implies that he doesn't particularly care about his previous team. Again, Medic likes his bloodshed and violence. He doesn't play sides or really care. He just wants to see how his newest cadavers fare against the older ones.

Medic then shows up again in the next comic at the very end, smiling wickedly after Sniper is shot by the TFC Sniper. This is then later explained away cause Joke and Funny, but we'll get to it soon.

In Old Wounds, Medic is shown to work on Sniper's body. By his own accord and will, he decides to bring Sniper back to life. Why? Well, number one this is TF2 and death is ultimately meaningless when it's done to the main cast because they're our main characters. Secondly? Well, we soon find out.

After Sniper has his little moment, he wakes up to find Medic there. Medic is less concerned with Sniper's state (both physical and mental) and is more obsessed with the idea of Sniper not being able to witness his crowning medical achievement. Ego! Look at that right there. He's concerned with how he's perceived, probably for just personal pleasure.

Also, the return of the god complex. "It's like I've always said! There's nothing wrong with playing God, so long as you are good at it!" It implies that he's said it several times before, that he's playing God and it's perfectly fine and okay because it works out in the end. He likes the idea of playing around with the laws of nature and God's will.

However, while he's gloating, Sniper attacks. This surprises Medic. Medic was either caught up in his own personal victory to notice Sniper being upset or he never once considered that Sniper would be upset, but rather congratulate him over it. Both? Yeah, probably both. He says this when Sniper says that he killed him. "It's okay though cause I brought you back to life, ja?" basically. He also then explains why he was smiling: it's just how he normally looks. He just looks like that! Smug and evil! 

Medic then also elaborates on his reasoning for why he joined the TFC team. He was bored mostly. Medic loves his experimentation. He would've felt bored and as though his talents were being wasted if he wasn't able to be a mercenary. The TFC needed a Medic, so what then? Join them! He needs the funding.

Again, when explaining he still brings up how it's his greatest triumph, bringing back another person from the dead. Medic in the comics is quite boastful it seems. However, he does seem to care enough about Sniper's physical state to try and stop him from going straight back to work (killing people) before they're then interrupted by Cheavy. Ohhh Cheavy...

Cheavy is rightfully pissed that Medic revived Sniper. Why wouldn't he be??? Medic just revived the guy they killed. And for what reason? Just to say: "Haha!! I brought a man back from the dead?" Cheavy makes it known how upset he is. In a rage, he kills Archimedes.

Medic flips. Perhaps in the only real time that Medic is deeply affected by death, he screams and rushes over to his feathered little friend. Something I've brushed over until now is that Medic really loves his birds. It's a strong big of characterization that his birds, with Archimedes in particular, being something he loves deeply. He cares more about them than he does with anything else. When Archimedes is in Heavy's chest, Medic cares more about Archimedes getting dirty than he is with Heavy having a bird in his stomach.

As Medic is trying to revive Archimedes, Cheavy barks at him. Medic apparently managed to coax the team into buying him a bunch of animal organs. Guy just has a certain charm to him. Or he's just extremely adamant about it. Regardless, Cheavy isn't too pleased with him.

Even while Cheavy is nagging him, Medic STILL tries to boast about his crowning medical achievement. He seriously does not understand that now is not the time to go all: "Yeah!! I brought him back to life!! Isn't that so cool? Aren't I just the best?"

He gets yelled at, but Medic still seems unphased. Perhaps he's either used to it considering that Cheavy just yells at everyone or he's still riding the high of bringing Sniper back to life. He's excited to go out and help the TFC team, saying that he'll be right behind Cheavy. That mirrors exactly what he says to Heavy.

But Cheavy swipes him away. Cheavy doesn't want anything to do with him (which is quite frankly the most reasonable thing to do right now). Cheavy orders Medic to stay in the infirmary and get out of their way, which Medic doesn't like in the slightest. Another headcanon, but I like the idea of Medic being extremely stubborn and constantly wanting to be in a dominating role. He likes ordering people around as shown with his personality in-game and the idea of him having to submit to another person just pisses him off.

And so, he betrays the TFC fully, rejoining the TF team.

In The Naked and the Dead, we open on Medic scrambling to get Miss Pauling blood. Again, improvisation shows here as he manages to figure out that if he just pours blood back into the bodies they'll live. Who cares if blood clots happen because of contradicting blood types?

He also says a curious line. When Miss Pauling expresses skepticism about this tactic working, he just goes: "I know, ja? Why do people even go to medical school?" Some people interpret this as him never even going to medical school. Personally? I like thinking that he's just mocking the need for a proper education when something as simple as pouring a bunch of blood into a person can bring them back to health.

It's a joke, but he's shown to be dedicated to bringing them back to life. He says that he's been soaking their blood using his own underwear for. some reason. Again, joke, but also like...that's some dedication right there.

The next time we see Medic is when he's tending to Demo's wounds. Again, small talk ala Meet the Medic. Medic is catching Demo up on all of the drama. He STILL BRAGS ABOUT BRINGING SNIPER TO LIFE HERE TOO. I genuinely forgot how many times this man brings up Sniper's revival. Oh my god I know that you're proud of bringing the bushman back to life but it's so comical seeing him constantly bring it up like: "Yeah!! And I was super cool and smart and able to do it, ja?" He's so silly.

More jokes here about Medic being able to replace Demo's eye, but because of Monoculous he can't keep it forever. Not much to comment on other than Medic is still rather dismissive of his procedures perhaps causing others genuine distress. Also, him just doing random things for no reason, like scooping out part of Demo's brain because he just got exhausted of hearing Demo ask for his eye back. Also implanting a brain into his leg because he just wants to see what happens. What a goofball.

Something to note is how Medic isn't really intimidating at all during these comics. Evil? Sure, but he's not exactly a looming figure who makes you quiver in your boots. He's casual, silly, and just kinda does what he likes to do. It makes me think about all the art of him with his hands clasped behind his back and with a creepy and unsettling expression. Looking at how Medic is shown in the MtM video and comics? He's...not really like that.

Then, Cheavy reappears. Something to note is that Cheavy doesn't call Medic by his name (or title I should say), but rather by nicknames (and slurs). Frankenstein is his most common one. Medic wouldn't like that.

Again, headcanons, but I think Medic and Cheavy bumped heads a lot considering how hostile Cheavy is to Medic. Because of this, Medic would despise Cheavy more than anything. What's worse than an annoying nagging beast of a person is one that won't even acknowledge his greatness and sees him as little more than a pest that Gray brought on cause they needed a Medic.

So, Medic attacks Cheavy. He reaches for his bonesaw, slashes him across the face before stabbing him in the abdomen. Revenge for killing Archimedes. But, Cheavy survives, reefing the blade out of him and then going out for blood. They both fight before Heavy interrupts.

Blah blah nothing too notable. Medic is a little bit of a sopping wet cat here. He's scared of Cheavy. By all means, he was previously being choked out by him, but c'mon Medic get your shit together bite his ankles. (/j /lh)

Heavy for?? Some reason throws aside Sasha because Cheavy wanted a "good death"?? I know it's coinvent for the plot since it gets Sasha out of the way so that Cheavy can kill Medic and piss off Heavy even more, but still. Maybe I need to do another analysis piece for Heavy to see if he's the type of guy to care about this, but I doubt I could drag it out nearly as long as this.

Regardless, Medic is shot and killed. He's then sent to hell. YAY!!!

FINALLY back to some interesting new Medic characterization. Medic has made a deal with the devil. What for? We don't know. Whatever works best for your fanfic. It doesn't matter what he sold his soul for in this scene though, as Medic is now damned to hell for everything. Oh no!

Until...a loophole. He reads the fine print and points out that the contract says that his soul is only owed to the devil if they own the majority stake in it. Well, Medic just so happened to have grafted eight more souls into him. 100% from the other mercs as he confirms later on, but again, he's just like that.

So Medic has zero qualms about stealing the souls of his teammates. Pretty much in line with what we know about him thus far.

He convinces the devil to sell another one of his souls so that he can go back to earth. In exchange? One of the pens on his table. He acts all surprised and shocked when the devil accepts, clearly revelling in his victory, before then being brought back to life.

If I may break away from the analysis for a bit and go into rambling: I do think Medic should've been slightly more unhinged here. By slightly I mean feral beast of a man, but y'know. Headcanons that alter and shape the way I see him, so I look at this scene and go: "He would NOT be that normal after tricking the devil and seeing the man who killed him" but it is what it is.

Then, the scene we all know and love. Medic toots his horn a little bit as he monologues about planting the uteruses into Cheavy, having him believe that the pen will activate the birthing process and three baboons will explode out of him. Again, he's enjoying himself. He likes seeing Cheavy being scared and afraid.

But, it's all a ploy, and Heavy tears the life-extending machine out of Cheavy. Heavy and Medic reunite, Medic finds the actual inductor and grabs his new baboon child, and...yeah that's the end of the comics. Uneventful, eh?

Conclusion

So, what a character, huh? I like him a little, can't you tell? Props if you actually managed to sit through this mess of an essay. It's mostly just for personal use and reference anyway. Writing about a character and taking notes helps me learn, and I just wanted to try doing something proper, y'know? I've only been writing about Medic for over a year now.

He's a bit of a mixed bag of traits and characterization. You can probably grab the parts that make up the core of his personality plus a couple other traits and then probably shape it into a rough form of who Medic is. It's how I think I write about him, to be honest.

The way to write Medic I feel is just trying to make sense of all of these little bits of character tossed at you, cause, yeah, you call say all these things, but how do you make it work? How do you make a character out of it? How do you rationalize all of these things being possible all at once?

Honestly? It's through trial and error. Soon enough you'll figure it out. Just keep in mind of what his character is. Look at his dialogue and thought process. Would he fucking say that? Would he fucking say it differently? So on and so forth.

Everyone can interpret him differently. Some may look at the things I say and will rebuttal that I'm giving him too much credit. Perhaps he's lying about certain things and is just manipulating them all. That's fair. It's perfectly valid. 

Medic is a comedic character first and foremost. Everything he says and does is meant to be funny. It's just that diseased fanfic writers like me have to overanalyze everything cause we're writing gay yaoi melodrama about murderers. A character who just constantly lies and manipulates I find isn't one I really want to make a protagonist out of, so I don't do it.

So, how do I write him? Well...

I take the aspects that I find most central to him. There's a lot, but I'll list the ones most imporant. His eccentricity is a core part of my enjoyment of him, so I cram it into him as much as physically possible. He's a giggly madman who unabashedly does what he likes to do. Him being apathetic to ethics as well is vital. He clearly does not give two shits about whether or not any of this is legal or moral. He does what he wants to do.

His ego is another big part. He loves attention and he loves being with people who think of him as some smart, grand guy. He's got a complex and has a constant need for others to validate him. If anybody tries taking him down a couple pegs, he lashes out.

That's another thing as well: his emotions. I think Medic wears his emotions on his sleeve and doesn't care to hide them. He's blunt, says exactly what he means regardless if it's nice or not, and generally could not care less over what is socially appropriate. If he doesn't care about a person, he won't make a single effort to even pretend to be interested in what they're saying. If he's excited, he'll laugh and make it known to everyone just how happy he is. Blah blah blah, you get it.

His mood swings and constantly shifting attitude is another thing too. All six of his emotions (neutral, afraid, happy, irritated, unbridled mania, overwhelming hatred and anger). It's easy for him to shift between them very rapidly and whatnot. All that sorta stuff.

The original characterization and voice lines I believe still hold water. I personally like interpreting them as coming from a place of genuine frustration that he only has when fighting. He's an emotional person who snaps and yells and gets annoyed and agitated very easily. His mood fluctuates between mania and seething hatred when fighting. I think it's as to be expected. He's on a battlefield. If you like respawn machine stuff, then it's implied that he's died numerous times and is completely sick of it, lashing out at his teammates for not protecting him.

There's several more aspects of Medic's character to which I write about in my own works, namely him being neurotic about constantly being in control, him being outwardly hostile to people he doesn't know and more close and caring to ones that he likes, and him generally being a lot more fond of his own team than he'd like to admit, but that's all sorta fanon stuff. Only I really care that much about it.

With that being said, Medic is one of the characters ever. Truth be told, this would've been less infuriating to write than, say, a Soldier analysis piece. Writing about my silly goofy middle-aged murderer is nice sometimes.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to stop procrastinating and get back to my fics.

[nethhiri]

Marooned: Chapter 44

Kid x FemReader x Killer

This chap featuring Heat x FemReader. Skip to the break if you want to skip Heat smut (but why would you?)

Warnings: Sex (bit of cumplay ( involves licking the floor), reader dominant, degradation of Heat, role play)

Turning Up The Heat

Tight, white fabric hung to your figure as you waited, flicking the toothpick in your mouth with your tongue. Your coat covered the little costume you had on, the one Kid had assisted you with finding. It was the loosest interpretation of a marine uniform you had ever seen. Loose meaning several different things. There was a great deal of pleasure to be had teasing Heat, who had been told to come to the infirmary. There was a knock at the door and Heat walked in. You were turned so that he couldn't see your costume right away.

"Strip."

"Huh?" Heat had no idea why you wanted to see him and he was a bit flustered at your request.

You turned around. "Don't make me repeat myself, pirate."

Heat's eyes went wide. "Oh." The corners of his mouth twitched up. "Oh!" It finally clicked with him what was going on here. He didn't know why, but he wasn't complaining. This was one of his fantasies. Not only a marine, but the Sea Snake in the flesh. He started to burn under your gaze, fumbling with the cords on his corset.

You leaned back against the countertop, watching as Heat removed his clothing. He was taller than Killer and a little wider, just as muscular. His skin was tan in a way that was closer to gray than to orange. It suited him and complimented his blue-gray hair, which, you were now noticing, peeked out from his waistband and drew a line to his belly button. He paused for a moment before shimmying out of his pants and all that was underneath. He stepped out of the puddled clothes on the floor and looked at you, already half-hard. You motioned for him to spin and watched the counters of his body, making a noise of appreciation.

You walked over to him and made a slow circle around him, running a nail down his spine, watching goosebumps form on his skin. Your hand traveled to squeeze his ass, feeling how firm it was. Moving to his front, you pulled a riding crop from your boot, touching it to the base of his throat and moving it under his chin. You ran it over his cheek, applying light pressure to turn his head from side to side. Then you grabbed a handful of his hair and let it slip out of your fingers.

"You'll do." You took the toothpick out of your mouth and stuck it between his lips. "Hold onto that for me." You put the crop under his chin again. "And don't let it fall."

You spit into your hand and curled your fingers around Heat's still hardening shaft. Moving your hand slowly up and down Heat, you flicked your eyes up to his, which were avoiding your gaze. "That's right, pirate. Keep your filthy eyes off me." Heat's dick grew harder under your grasp. He liked that, did he? "Turn around, hands on the gurney."

Heat did as you said. He gulped in anticipation as he heard you walk away to get something. Heat almost lost the toothpick when he felt the crop crack against his ass, biting back a gasp. He could feel his tip leak with every swat you applied. Then, he felt you press up against him, the fabric of your miniskirt rubbing against his ass and your bare stomach touching the warm skin of his back. He felt your hand around his cock again, this time with lubricant. His lips were pressed together, only letting whimpers and moans pass through, though he almost dropped the toothpick again when he felt cool fingers slide between his cheeks, pausing to see if there were any complaints from his end, of which there were none. He groaned from his nose when he felt you press two fingers inside the tight ring of muscle. He couldn't resist moving his hips to slide himself further back onto your fingers and simultaneously move his cock within your hand.

"You're lucky my hands are tied up or that would earn you another smack. Stay still." You pumped your fingers in and out of him, trying to keep time with your other hand. "I bet you let anyone have their way with you. I bet you act as a whore for your captain, don't you? Your ass is eating me up." You curled your fingers inside him. "Well, you're my whore now, understand?" He nodded. "That's a good pet," you purred.

You worked a third finger in, increasing the pace. Heat's cock twitched in your hold and his ass tightened around your fingers as you rubbed against his sweet spot. He was close. "If you cum well for me, maybe I'll let you fuck my little marine pussy. Would you like that?" He nodded again. "I need you to give me all the cum in those big heavy balls of yours. I want it all over my hand, all over the floor. Prove that you can fill me up like the dirty pirate you are. Show me that you're not a worthless pirate, you can be a worthy pet."

Heat let out a primal grunt, sending a hot load into your hand, much of it spilling onto the floor.

"Uh oh." You put the cum covered fingers into his mouth, pulling his cheek so that he would face you. "Looks like you didn't do everything I asked of you. And I was being so kind." You held the toothpick up to him, which must have fallen out when he was panting after his release. "On your hands and knees. Make it quick."

Heat did as you commanded, very much enjoying this role play.

"I'm going to wash my hands of your disgusting fluids. I expect that mess to be cleaned by the time I'm done." You curled your tongue in a licking motion, giving Heat the hint. You washed slowly, observing as Heat cleaned the floor with his tongue. You guessed right when you thought he took pleasure in degradation and some power play.

When you were done, you sat on the gurney above, chiding him for not being finished. "Tsk. Disappointing. I don't think you know how to use your tongue properly." You motioned him closer, grabbing his face. "Which is really such a shame because this face was made to sit on." You smirked as Heat's cheeks turned red. You moved close to the edge, spreading your knees enough that Heat could see there was nothing underneath the very tiny skirt.

Heat felt his cock twitch back to life. He couldn't see details in the shadow of your clothes, but he could tell your cunt was dripping from the pheromonal scent that made his mouth water.

"You're aching for a taste aren't you?" You grabbed a fistful of his hair. "Your pathetic pirate cock can't stay down. What would your crew say if they knew you were fiending for the pristine, succulent, hot cunt of another captain?" He looked at you with pleading eyes. "Oh~ you do want it badly." You ran your fingers up your slit, gathering some of the slick, and offered it to Heat, who took your fingers in his mouth and sucked all of your essence off. You pulled the skirt up until it was bunched at your hips, looking from Heat's face to your center.

He didn't need any more of an invitation than that to brace his shoulders under your thighs and pull your cunt into his face with his hands digging into your ass. You were so wet and tasted so good. Heat's tongue bullied its way into your hole, lapping at every inch he could reach, groaning into you.

Truly, you were already pretty worked up from the previous activity, not realizing you would be into it as much as it turned out you were. Your legs threatened to snap shut as you felt Heat's teeth graze your clit. His tongue moved to swirl around it next. You didn't know how he did it or that he could have such fine control over his power, but you swear his tongue was much hotter than it should have been, not to the point of being uncomfortable. Actually, it was driving you crazy. His hot breath panting against you was tightening the coil within as well. You felt him pause and let out a strangled moan, muttering a curse. Glancing down, he had cum again just from eating you out. Fuck that's hot. Heat swiped some of the cum with his fingers and shoved them into you as he sucked on your clit. Nasty. He expertly found the spot you favored and repeatedly curled his fingers into it, watching his cum mix with your fluids until a rush of your juices flooded against his hand and your thighs.

The coil had snapped and your head was thrown back in a cry of pleasure. "Shit!" You moaned. "Fuck, Heat." Your legs quivered and closed around his head. Your chest heaved with your panting.

"How's that for a filthy pirate?"

______________________________________________________________

Kid's amber eyes were fixated on you, high up in the rigging making adjustments before the ship left for the next island. You had your leg wrapped into the rope in such a way that you were being held upside down to get a better angle at something. You looked very different from the first time he had seen you, scrawny, a bit feral. Now, your muscle had filled back out and he could no longer make out the shape of your hip bones. He was proud of how far you had come, even if the first half of your time with them had been... rocky. Although he was certain you could have pulled yourself back together on your own, he would like to think that he and his crew helped speed it along, more in that second half...

"Enjoying the view?"

Kid snapped out of his thoughts. "No! I mean... well, yeah... I guess." He watched Killer's shoulders move up and down slightly. "Shut up, Killer." 

The blonde loved how easy it was to fluster Kid. It was becoming more and more obvious that he had feelings for you and Killer was going to exploit every second of it. "I'm gonna tell her you said no."

"Don't." Kid narrowed his eyes at his best friend.

"But if I make her mad at you, she'll come to me," Killer teased.

"Not if I make her mad at ya first."  Kid took off climbing the mast, swatting at Killer, who was following him. 

You were greasing up some of the pulleys when without warning, Kid and Killer appeared several feet away from you on the mast. Killer was attached to Kid's back monkey-style so they were at the same level, otherwise Kid would have been higher than him. "Can I... help you?" 

"Kid had something to tell you."

Kid shot a look at the blonde, knowing damn well he had no ammo with which to make you mad at Killer. "Killer... told me yer bad at chopping vegetables." 

"Kid's been using your toothbrush."

"Nuh uh! The purple one is mine. I thought we decided." 

Not this again. What are they doing? 

"Ok, well, Killer, uh, Killer's been telling everyone that ya snore." 

"Kid farted yesterday and blamed it on you after you left the room."

"He jerks off with yer dirty panties."

That escalated quickly. 

"He eats off your plate when you're not looking."

"Killer leaves the toilet seat up."

"That's you!"

This was confusing. "Are you guys done?" They looked at each other and nodded. You started counting off on your fingers, still upside down, "Everyone knows I'm bad in the kitchen. Kid, your toothbrush is the fucking red one. I don't snore. I don't think you fooled anyone, Kid. Who do you think gives him the panties? I fucking knew it. And lastly, again, that's you, Kid." Your arms were crossed. "What the fuck is this? Couldn't it wait until I was done?"

"Killer was gonna make ya mad at me so that ya would spend time with him and not me."

You were trying not to smile at Kid's cute pouting face. "So you made up shit to make Killer look equally bad?" You shook your head. "You're both ridiculous." 

Kid started swatting at Killer on his back again. "Ya made me look like an idiot." 

"You don't need help on that front," Killer retorted.

"Hey. Guys." It was sort of charming that Kid got so huffy over the threat of you spending time with someone else. It wasn't jealousy. It was more akin to a dog forgetting about his bone until another dog started to chew it. As precious as it was, the two were arguing very closely to some of the ropes you were working with. "Can we do this on the ground please?" You were hurriedly trying to free your leg and get off the ropes before you fell. Turns out, you didn't have to worry about falling. 

Kid and Killer, in their scuffle, tangled themselves in the ropes and fell off the mast. They were fine. They had extra padding compared to you. Unfortunately, you were on the other end of that rope. Maybe you should have stayed upside down. You were jerked up, hitting your head on the crossbar of the mast so hard that your vision went black. It hurt so badly you thought you would lose your grip, and maybe you did for a second, but ultimately you were able to climb down on your own, already healed by the time that your feet were back on deck. 

Now, you really were mad, at both of them. Even if you could heal yourself, that was very painful. And if you were knocked out completely, you wouldn't have been able to heal yourself. You could have bled into your brain. Your power was useful and strong but you were, by no means, immortal.

You stalked off to your bunk, not even looking in the boys' direction. You were mad at them, though you didn't want to be. Instead of saying something you would regret, you chose to cool off alone. Truthfully, you had been enjoying their banter and their company. It was just an accident. You didn't need to yell at them anyway. You were pretty sure they felt bad about it. Not to toot your own horn, but you were kind of proud of yourself for not flying off the handle. That's called ~growth~.

Later, you found Wire at the helm. His presence had shifted from being unnerving to being calming. You were giving yourself space from Kid and Killer. Casually, you glanced over the maps. The next island wasn't that far away. 

"Leaving in the morning." Wire commented.

You hummed an affirmative. 

A minute passed before Wire spoke again. "What did you say?"

"Huh?"

"Kid didn't ask you yet?"

"Ask what?"

"Oops. Forget it."

"Wire." You pressed him. "You can't just say shit like that and not elaborate." It was kind of funny for a giant man to say 'oops' in the most monotone voice you'd ever heard.

He moved his hood to scratch behind his head. You hadn't noticed that the sides of his dark hair were silver. "Ah I fucked up." He let out an exaggerated sigh. "Any chance you would leave me alone if I don't tell you?" 

"None." You thought for a moment. "One. Tell me what happened in the crow's nest with Killer."

Wire begrudgingly groaned. "I, uh, would actually prefer to tell you what Kid said." Wire muttered under his breath, "Ugh. He's gonna kick my ass." 

"Go on."

"It's already kind of an unspoken thing, but..." Wire folded his arms and pretended to be interested in the maps. "He was gonna ask officially if," Wire cleared his throat, "you would stay and be a part of the crew." 

What a change from several months ago when you had first met.

"Yeah the next island is a pleasure island so we were gonna celebrate. Or he was gonna drown his sorrows in drink and flesh. Depending on what you said." Wire ran a hand over his sideburn. "Ah maybe I said too much again." He shrugged. "Whatever. Now you know." He waved you off, hoping to be left alone again.

"And what do you all think?" Kid was the captain, however, you wouldn't be comfortable unless everyone was in agreement.

"Hm?"

"You, Heat, and Killer?"

"Who do you think encouraged Kid ask you officially?" There was the faintest hint of a smile on Wire's face, which was hidden by shadow when he put his hood up again.

Next Chapter

[wyrmguardsecrets]

Antisocial personality disorder, sometimes called sociopathy, is a mental health condition in which a person consistently shows no regard for right and wrong and ignores the rights and feelings of others. People with antisocial personality disorder tend to purposely make others angry or upset and manipulate or treat others harshly or with cruel indifference. They lack remorse or do not regret their behavior.

People with antisocial personality disorder often violate the law, becoming criminals. They may lie, behave violently or impulsively. They have difficulty consistently meeting responsibilities related to family, work or school.

Since I know you're on here, Fashionista, take a good long look at the above paragraphs. Because they describe you to a T. Not only do they describe you, it's like you've made it your personal mission in life to one-up the dictionary's interpretation of the disorder, going above and beyond to just be a shit human being. I hope you get help. I hope you take a good, long look in the mirror. Because you have utterly destroyed members of this community whose only crime was that they wanted to be your friend. And for those in her circle currently... run.

Doxxing

Farming pity via lies and deceit in order to guilt people into donating to her GoFundMe's which that STOLEN money just went back into WoW, buying herself things from the in-game shop.

Lying about being victimized by Ignus.

Trying to run Ignus off the server.

Tried to run SEVERAL people out of communities because they dared go against her.

Making false claims about others using cropped DMs as 'proof' in many communities.

Kept screenshots of alt lists from check-pvp for every officer that was in her guild 'just in case they do something against us'.

Open /say ERP.

Known associations with someone that unapologetically had Ageplay in their Flists and who were denied to revoke their ban with SLP and many other communities.

Slipping into DMs to break up RP partners for... I've yet to learn the reason for this other than she wants to keep people around her like a collection of dolls. It makes her feel superior.

Going to community leaders with lies, telling them they need to ban a person.

Talking shit about her officers and guild members in officer VC.

Brings shitty people into her guild/discord to 'keep an I on them'.

Keeps a discord with thousands of images of shit on you 'just in case' so she can have leverage to effectively bury you if you leave her company.

Sends lackeys to you to threaten you IRL.

That's just off the top of my head. I know there's proof. Perhaps not of ALLLL of these claims. But proof exists for most. It's been posted. Here in WGs staring last August. Pull your heads from the sand, people.

.

[innocent-cat]

You know what would be really cute? The boys teasing Percy about his crush on reader. Telling him he should teach her how to shoot so he’d have an excuse to wrap his arms around her. Bonus would be the girls teasing reader.

writers block rn, so sorry

Percival x Reader

Warnings - vulgar language lol

"You're not funny.", Percy x Reader

.·:*¨༺༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺༻

"No way! You're totally into them! PfffHAAHHA!" Scanlan cackled loudly at the ex-noble, bending over and holding his stomach.

"That- that is absurd. Where on earth did you find that assumption?" Percy's face dusted with blush, swinging his head to the side, avoiding eye contact.

Vax's eyes swayed between the two men in the room, cogs slowly turning in his head. His lips curved into a smile, evidently holding back his laughter.

"You just realized Scanlan? Percy stares at them with heart eyes whenever they're in his view!" Vax stifles a giggle, looking over to Percy, waiting for his reaction.

Percy glares at Vax, still red and embarrassed.

"That.. that is not true." He sighed out slowly, giving up denying it after the statement.

"Yeah right Percival." Vax patted his shoulder, laughing. He pulled Percy down with the weight of his lean, and Percy tumbled forward, but regained his balance by tugging back on the slightly shorter man.

Scanlan wiggles his thick eyebrows and smirks upwards at Percy.

"So whats your first move gonna be lover boy? You gonna wrap your arms around them romantically under the stars or something?" Scanlan mocked and choked a laugh after looking at Vax's growing smile.

"Thats- not exa-"

"Percy! You should do that.. when will we ever get a better chance to fix their aim and for you to make a move?" Vax pulled Percy down to level with Scanlan as they discussed what they planned to make Percy do.

"No. I am not doing that, Vax." Percy pulled away from their circle, stunned.

"Percy," Scanlan piped up. "Trust me, as a man whose slept with like, a million women, this is the perfect way."

Both Vax and Scanlan had evil smiles on their faces, visibly hiding their laughter.

Percy stood up tall, and turned. Vax pushed him forward.

"Don't mess it up!" Vax snickered, watching as Percy hurriedly walked away.

//

You sat at a table with the rest of the girls. All of the chitchatting about what color goes with what item, what tea was better, and why we should probably keep a closer eye on Grog. (He got in the cookie jar.)

You let out a sigh as you day dreamed about what life would be like if you hadn't joined Vox Machina. Your mind settled on a life in a farm, caring for various animals and crops. You obviously decided you were glad you joined Vox Machina. Such a mundane life was not your style.

Keyleth's head turned to you, and you felt her eyes burn into the side of your head, as you stared into space. You could almost smell smoke from how hard she was looking at you.

"Hm?" You turned to Keyleth, asking her to explain why she was looking at you.

"Something on your mind?"

You now felt the rest of the table's eyes on you, including Grog's. (Who was now sat in a corner for eating the cookies.)

"You know who is really cute?" You smiled, waiting for Keyleth to offer you to continue.

"Who?" Keyleth purrs out curiously, entertaining your statement.

"Percy."

"What? Really? I thought you would have totally said some kind of Noble or something." Keyleth rested her head to her fist, thinking about what you just said.

"He is a noble, Keyleth?" You giggled at her interpretation of Percy. It is easy to forget your close friends are something more when you feel afloat around them.

Pike laughed at your correction.

"Wow, you just know so much about Percy, that's a little creepy if you ask me." Pike giggled out.

"Everyone knows that, though!" You insist, but Pike keeps laughing, calming herself to say one more thing.

"Not Keyleth, though." She started laughing again, Vex following in suit.

Vex looked at you with a smile. See, unknowing to you, she had discussed with Vax in the past on how to get the two of you together.

"Say, why don't you just ask Percy for aim training? You do need it anyways."

You glanced at her with the side of your eye.

"Actually, I don't. But that'd be so embarrassing! What if he holds me or something?"

Vex laughed- "Thats exactly why you should do it! Don't you think that'd just fulfill your little romantic imagination?"

"Aww! That'd be so cute!" Keyleth purred out, smiling like the sun.

"It's not just an imagination, Vex.." You spoke, deflation shown in your voice.

"Then prove it to me, darling." Vex stood from her chair, walking to you, and pulling you out of your's.

You sighed, holding her hand in your's, and looking up to her waiting for her to tell you she was joking. When she didn't respond, you let go of her hand, and walk out of the room to the hall. You fix your posture and take a deep breath.

You march down the hall, occasionally trailing your fingers against the windowsill's ridges. Your shoes clicked against the wooden floor as the wind picked up out side, pushing the curtains inside, flown toward you.

Pushing them out of the way, you walk directly into Percy.

Percy, who is apparently sick, had a red face as he apologized rapidly.

"Oh- I'm so sorry, I didn't see you there." Percy spat out.

"It's okay! I was actually just looking for you." You smile, looking up to him.

"And why would that be?"

"Well, Vex was making fun of my aiming record, and I was wondering if you could help me out because you are the only other person here with a gun?"

Percy laughed, realizing Vex and Vax had set the two of you up.

"Well, I don't quite see why not."

Walking closely by your side, the two of you make a turn down the hallway into the courtyard so he can help you practice aim.

"Why do they look untouched, Percy? Do you secretly suck at aiming?" You giggled, glancing towards him.

"No, I'm just so good at aiming that I never need to practice." He smiled at you, obviously mocking your attempt to poke fun at you.

"Yeah right. You totally suck."

He flicked you in the head and you stumbled, falling behind him. Walking to position you in front of the unmoving target, he puts his hand out to you.

"Well? Where's your pistol?"

Your mouth opened to an 'O' shape, reaching to your pocket and handing him the gun.

He spins the small pistol in his hands, inspecting it.

He stands behind you, towering over your body. His lengthy arms reach to yours, snaking into your hands. He places the pistol into your hand, and reaches for your other hand, placing them together and putting the correct grip on the gun.

"What you want to do is make sure that your right hand is being braced by your left. If you don't, you might as well just be trying to break your wrist. Your right hand needs to stay on the trigger's loop when you're not firing. When you do pull the trigger, make sure you grip tightly on your right hand with your left to avoid dropping the gun."

(A/N - Don't trust my gun advice. I am not a professional, and this is all a guess. All fiction. Not true.)

All you could think about was how close he was to you at the moment. His chest pressed to your back, and his arms wrapped around you gripping the gun with you. He braces your arm as he aims for you.

"See that little line? On the pistol? Thats the line of where your bullet is gonna go. Go ahead and try to hit that target. If anything goes wrong, I will be right behind you to help direct you."

Percy's left hand rested on your hip, and you felt his stare.

You fired, and missed.

"What went wrong?" You spoke with a frown.

His left hand moved from your hip to your shoulder, patting you softly.

"Just your aim was off. Try aiming a little lower."

His right hand moves upward, lowering your arms so it lines up more with the head of the hay-bale target.

You fire again, and this time it hit.

You cheered, happily doing a small dance about the fact you hit a target from such a distance.

"There we go. We'll only be here for a few hours with that kind of luck." Percy laughed at you, watching your posture slouch slightly at the realization that you have to aim practically all day.

Totally not because you're gonna be held by your crush all day long.

[twiceinadream]

“Color?”

Requested: Yup

Request: you know what sounds really nice? a mina x fem!reader scenario where mina and s/o end up drunk and kissing at a party occurring in the dorm. and dom!mina ends up using her christmas present on her (a strap lol)

a/u: Happy New Years everyone! I know it’s a little late but life’s been crazy as always, I’m just happy to be posting again. I hope you are all having a great year so far. We’re already starting our strong with, Moonlight Sunrise! Imma be real, I followed the prompt but not exactly (so I hope the anon who requested this is still happy with my little interpretation), this is 99% smut and like 1% fluff. Thank you for all the continued love and support. I love you guys!

Category: NSFW and Fluff

Word Count: 1.9k

The lights of the city glittered beautifully against the puddles on the sidewalk as you and Mina giggled as you walked hand-in-hand. You were lightly shoving each other as you walked, the smell of Mina’s perfume was intoxicating as you breathed in the flowery scent.

You couldn’t help but smile brighter when your wife placed a kiss on your cheek, you slid your hand out of her gasp as you snaked it around her waist instead. It didn’t take long before the two of you made it to the front of your apartment building as your wife quickly punched in the code as the door opened and the both of you stepped in.

Mina practically dragged you into the elevator as she pushed you up against the wall. Capturing your lips in a heated kiss as you let her passion overtake you. A wicked smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as she leaned in to nip your pulse point, “Color, Y/N-ah?”

You smiled as you carded your fingers into her hair, “Green.”

—

Mina had shackled your wrists in a pair of white fuzzy cuffs to the headboard, leaving you completely to her mercy as you watched her circle the bed like a predator toying with its helpless prey. The Japanese woman played with the leather riding crop in her hands as she lightly smacked the palm of her left hand, the sound made you squirm as you shifted against the sheets.

She was dressed in a thin silken red robe that left little to the imagination and you couldn't stop the flush of arousal that filled your body as your eyes traced over her figure. She was absolutely gorgeous. The thought of what she’d do to you already flooded your mind with so many naughty images, you couldn’t help but feel your own wetness begin to gather at your entrance as you lost yourself to your own imagination.

Suddenly, the flesh of your inner thigh stung as your eyes darted to your wife who raised an eyebrow at you. She smacked you again drawing another yelp from your lips as she tsked, “Eyes on me, baby.” She ran the tips of her cold fingers against your heated flesh making your shiver, “I want your attention on me and not in your pretty little head. Understand?” You nodded profusely but that wasn’t enough, “Use your words, Y/N-Chan.”

You swallowed down the lump in your throat, “I understand, Mistress.”

A pleased grin spread over your wife’s painted red lips as she ran the cool leather down the planes of your quivering abdominals, “That’s what I like to hear. Color?”

“Green, Mistress.” You could feel your own wetness coating the insides of your thighs as Mina’s eyes darkened at your answer. She moved the crop between the valley of your breasts before she pressed it against one of your hardened nipples, the pressure felt almost as good as the sting when she took a light swat at the bud. You hissed as she did the same to the other side, before she smacked the side of your breast, the flesh jiggled slightly as warmth spread where she had just hit you.

The sting was quickly replaced with a pleasurable warmth as your wife bent down to take one of your nipples between her lips as she sucked gently, you threw your head back against the pillow as she left a beautiful red outline of her lips between your breasts. When she straightened again a glint of mischief glittered in her eyes as she reached for the tie of her robe.

The brunette turned around so her back was facing you, she swayed her hips as she unfastened the knot and let the fabric drop to the floor. Your neck craned as you took in the black leather corset that hugged your wife’s waist, contrasting nicely with the pale expanse of her back as your eyes trailed down to the harness around her hips and thighs. Your jaw dropped as she turned back to face you.

Hanging between her legs was a massive strap you had never seen before. You weren’t even sure you could wrap a hand around it nonetheless get it inside of you. It was overwhelming to say the least as Mina climbed to stand on the bed, your body dipping wherever she stepped as the hunk of silicone was presented in front of your face, it was even bigger when you weren’t looking at it from a distance. “Suck.”

The command was simple enough, but the action proved harder than you anticipated as you gingerly licked the strap to get a feel for what you were about to get into. You placed a few fluttering kisses along the head - you wanted to sell this as much as you could - before you opened your mouth as wide as you could to take it in. The silicone already stretched your mouth till it put a slight ache in your jaw, you forced more of it in as you did your best to please your mistress. Only getting about four inches down until you gagged, tears had already slipped down your cheeks in your efforts as Mina jogged her hips forward ever so slightly. Enjoying the sounds you made when the strap hit the back of your throat and the gasps of air you took when she pulled out.

She reached down to cup your jaw as she smeared your spit onto the toy, her other hand found it’s way to the back of your head as she forced more of the rubber down your throat. You continued to gag as you struggled to breath before she finally pulled out, you gasped and coughed for air as you stared at the strap swaying before you. Mina reached behind your head as she unlocked the cuffs and brought your arms back to your sides, you couldn’t help but get distracted by her lips as she came face-to-face with you. You leaned in to capture her lips but she pressed a finger to your lips to stop you, a mischievous look dancing in her eyes.

“Not so fast baby, I didn’t give you permission to move now did I?” The Japanese woman raised an eyebrow as you gave her your best puppy eyes before falling back onto the bed.

“No, mistress.” You voice sounded slightly hoarse as Mina smiled, pleased with herself.

“Exactly.” She made a circle in the air as she sat back on her heels, “Ass up for me, Y/N-ah.” Your shoulders were slightly sore as you moved slower than your wife liked, she planted a loud smack against your ass as you yelped moving quicker to present yourself for her.

The comforter below your forearms was soft as your cheek pressed into the material, your knees were spread wider giving Mina a clear view of your dripping entrance. You could feel your slick on your inner thighs and you couldn’t help but feel some degree of embarrassment about how much this turned you on. A cool finger ran up the length of your slit as your arousal gathered on the tip of the brunette’s finger. She brought it to her lips and tasted you. She hummed lowly before she reached around you to rub your clit eliciting a loud moan from you as her other hand pushed a finger into your weeping hole. Mina knew that wasn’t nearly enough as she added a second then a third.

Your inner muscles gripped onto her finger greedily as she thrusted into you at an even pace, your hips rocked back as you chased your pleasure but it was ripped from you as Mina pulled her finger out. Using your gathered wetness, your wife slicked up her strap as she positioned it at your entrance. The smallest hint of fear began to creep in as the head of the toy began pushing into your entrance, it stretched you farther than anything you’d ever felt before. And for the first time, you truly believed she would tear you in half. A scream ripped itself from your throat as the head pushed in suddenly, your fingers dug into the comforter below you as you struggled for air.

Mina continued pressing in as more of the toy began filling you. You could barely breath as the stretch was walking the right rope between pain and pleasure. You continued to take gasping breaths as tears stung your eyes as the toy finally stretched the farthest it could inside of you. There were probably still four or five inches left but there was no way it was getting inside you as a few stray tears fell down your cheek.

You felt your wife’s hand rubbing your back soothingly as you reached a hand back trying to hold on of hers. Mina got the message as she squeezed your hand, you held onto her wrist as she bent down to whisper in your ear. The stuff peaks of her nipples pressed into your back as you stifle a gasp, “You’re doing so well for me, jagi. Can I start moving?”

The softness in her voice made your heart swell as you nodded, “Y..yes, pl..please.”

Your wife couldn’t help but smile as she began withdrawing from your heat until only an inch remained inside before thrusting back in. You moaned loudly at the stretch as she continued the languid movements until you started to rock back into her. She picked up her pace ever so slightly as your inner walls clenched harder to keep her in. Mina sat up onto her knees as she shook off the grip your hand had in her wrist as she brought them to your hips and used them to speed up her thrusts.

The combined moans of both you and Mina echoed throughout the room as the sound of sex bounced off the walls. Your wife could tell you were getting close by the way your fingers tightened their grip on the comforter and the pitch of your voice had gone up an octave or two as she redoubled her efforts.

You could tell she was close too as her moans turned into whines and her pace started to falter. You swallowed hard as you attempted to find your voice, “To..together.” The word barely meant anything but Mina understood you perfectly as she reached down to toy with your clit.

Electricity seemed to travel through your nerves at her touch as you let out a scream, you were blindsided by your orgasm as you clawed at the bedsheets trying to find anything to ground you before Mina’s hand found yours and you held it in a bruising grip. Your walls milked her for all she was worth and your wife never envied a piece of silicone more in her life wishing she could really feel you before the pressure on her clit became too much and she too fell over the edge.

—

You were both left gasping as sweat covered both of your bodies, a small laugh sounded from you as Mina pulled out and you felt like you were left gaping. Your chest heaved as you rolled onto your back, “Holy shit.”

The Japanese woman shared your amusement as she quickly undid the clasps and threw the toy to the end of the bed and unzipped the corset she was wearing so she could lay comfortably next to her. Her arms wrapped around your waist as you laid back against her, “You’re so beautiful, Y/N-ah.”

Mina finally placed the kiss you had been yearning for on your lips. The kiss wasn’t hungry or desperate, but one of love. You both laughed in the small space between your lips as you rested your sweaty foreheads against each other.

[phoenix-flamed]

As I'm playing through the Rosalith flashback and paying closer attention to things like the NPCs around the area's comments, as well as while bearing in mind everything we learn as the game progresses, in the lore tidbits, the thought lines, and even the Ultimania...

My perspective on Elwin as a ruler has shifted, and I want to amend some of my headcanons regarding his actions and decisions. This post is, as always, speculation borne from my observations and interpretations, which then of course influence my personal headcanons. So as always, please don't worry, you aren't obligated to agree with my thoughts!

I could write pages upon pages about just how overwhelmingly dire Rosaria's situation is at the start of the game, during Clive's flashback. There is so, so much going on, and so much that has led to the at-that-part-of-the-story current situation, and I definitely will tackle all of it at some point... But for now, I'll try and stay simpler, and just focus on, well, Elwin. Elwin and the type of ruler that he is, or strives to be.

He's a kindhearted, compassionate man, and that carries over into his role as a leader as well. At first, I'd taken to assuming that his sole focus was on Rosaria and its people. Now, I strongly disagree with myself on that. It's the opposite -- though his power in terms of rule only extends as far as the duchy's borders, I firmly believe that he does care about the other nations and their people. He is every bit a bleeding heart, to a point that it's detrimental to his own nation.

According to the Ultimania's timeline of events, the war with the Northern Territories officially kicked off while the situation regarding Kanver's push for independence was going on. I'll go into detail about that mess in that other post when I write it, but the reason I mention that is because it adds some perspective to what may have played a part in Elwin's handling of the north.

We know that it was Elwin himself who directly led the campaign against the Northern Territories. Rosaria was, at that time, engaged on two fronts, in two different conflicts, at two different locations entirely. The problem with this is that war is not a cheap endeavor. It requires money, supplies and resources, and of course soldiers. The longer a war lasts, the more of these things are required.

Now, take these necessities and double them, one for each of the two overlapping wars.

A nation only has so many of these needed resources at its disposal. The land can only provide so many crops at one time, there's only so much ore and crystals that can be mined or purchased or traded for, their coffers only have so much gil in them -- and in order to obtain more money, they need to part with resources for trade with the other nations. See how this can very quickly become a problem? It goes on like that in other veins, too, like the means to keep equipping their soldiers with armor and weapons, and even crystals. I could keep going on and on, but I'm pretty sure you get the point without me droning on with too many boring details.

Rosaria was faced with the precarious task of figuring out where, when, and how much resources should be allocated to which front at any given moment. On one hand, Rosaria is in an alliance with Dhalmekia, an agreement which binds them to the situation with Kanver, which means they can't exactly walk away under the explanation that they have more important matters to attend to. Not without jeopardizing future relations with Dhalmekia and Sanbreque, anyway. But the war with the Northern Territories is the more immediate threat, given that unlike the war for Kanver's independence, the prior one is taking place right there in their yard with their neighbors.

All of this is a long-winded way of saying that I speculate that the Northern Territories situation was the top priority, and given the immediate threat it posed to the duchy, it needed to be dealt with quickly and decisively.

Now, circling back to the subject of Elwin's compassionate leadership -- it's my personal belief, based on the conversations that go on during the Rosalith flashback of the game, that Elwin tries to only resort to war as a last ditch effort, or when the situation forces it in the name of defense.

I still don't agree with Elwin taking Jill to Rosaria. I'll probably never agree with it. But I think I have a better understanding now of why he might have done it, or at the very least a headcanon that I feel is more fitting to how I personally see his character. It may well have been to end the conflict as quickly, and with as minimal casualties on both sides, as possible and once and for all. It was an attempt at mercy, albeit an arguably misguided one, because the alternative to ensure that they would no longer attack Rosaria would have likely been something more extreme, such as forcing them to submit to Rosarian rule, or altogether wiping them off the map. Remember: this stirring of violence by the Northern Territories isn't a one-time occurrence. It's been an ongoing issue for centuries for Rosaria, up until that point.

But there's something else, too, that makes me believe in this opinion. When Elwin led the campaign into the Northern Territories to drive them back and fight them on their turf, Rosaria won that war. Elwin could have done anything, as the ruler of the victorious nation -- he could have killed Silvermane to leave their people in disarray and without a leader, he could have chosen to make an example out of the man and/or his troops to scare their people into compliance, he could have ground them under his heel, asserted dominance over them, and taken their land for Rosaria, all to force and maintain their submission as a means of eliminating them as a threat to his nation.

But he didn't do that. He didn't do any of that, actually.

There are a few words used in the summary of Elwin's victory against the Northern Territories, words that I feel are incredibly important. It specifically says that he pacified them. He didn't go there to dominate them or destroy them, he went there to push them back out of Rosarian territory after Silvermane and his soldiers had invaded, and to end their fighting against Rosaria once and for all. How he chose to go about it, no, I don't agree with. But once again, I understand what I believe he was trying to achieve. Unlike the other nations of Storm, the Northern Territories weren't a unified nation. They were a collection of small, individual nations, that started to fall apart after their Mothercrystal, Drake's Eye, died. When they invaded Rosaria at that time, they had dwindled into a series of tribes, whose aggressive nature had been amplified by desperation due to the Blight's spreading across their lands. The other noteworthy part of the summary of Elwin and Rosaria's victory against them, is the specific mention that Elwin unified them.

He didn't conquer them after their loss. He got them to come together as one collective peoples, rather than staying as fragmented tribes.

This is why I believe Elwin is an incredibly, and in fact entirely too compassionate leader. He doesn't just want what's best for his people, he wants to help others as well. Which isn't inherently a bad thing! But where it becomes an issue is with what we find out during that first flashback segment in Rosalith: Rosaria has been taking in refugees from the north, who are fleeing their homes due to the Blight's consumption of more and more of their land.

We find out from Elwin and Rodney themselves that the number of refugees continues to grow, and Rosaria can't keep up in terms of resources -- everything from food to shelter. Meanwhile, the Blight is spreading rapidly towards Rosarian soil, which means that the same fate befalling the Northern Territories is going to befall the duchy as well, if he doesn't do something now. There is no more time; there are no more options left, no alternative methods Elwin can employ to avoid war and, with it, taking Joshua to Phoenix Gate to gain guidance from their ancestors on how to proceed in terms of military strategy.

In his efforts to help others, he forgot the most important rule when it comes to saving people: secure yourself first, then assist others. As a result of his kind heart, he spread his own nation too thin, and put his own people in an even bleaker situation than what it otherwise would have been. (Not that the situation was anything but incredibly, incredibly dire. But if nothing else, having those resources that were provided for the refugees instead kept in reserve for Rosaria's people, and for trading with the other nations to obtain other resources that they need, would have perhaps bought them a little more time.)

[necronatural]

oh it goin DOWN on twitter

sorry for mobhundred discourse and also making this a little about me. #testimonials.

I've been staying out of it because of overlapping circles & callout posts being incendiary but I always disliked SC in a "this person is unlikable" way, didn't do anything but be self-righteous and overly sensitive. like

I'd DM my friend shit she says with her name cropped out to go "LOL", making sure not to name her because no one should be put on blast for being annoying. But "that includes telling someone to explode" is objectively funny as fuck

overall I interpreted all the sketchy stuff in the fic as like general incompetence? And stopped reading. Seeing the shit she did/wrote like the week after I cooled off from MP100 feels like an atom bomb going off behind my head like she HUH?>????

I don't actually think "neutral on proship discourse" should be a warning sign, it's well-known that discourse is meaningless namecalling. It can be necessary to state your allegiances in specifically MP100 fandom because it attracts like a SHOCKING amount of people really weird about 13-year-olds, though. Disproportionate to any other fandom I've ever been. Something in the goddamn water in that fandom stg its EVIL out there.

Anyway I think an obsessive fixation on pedophilia was the actual warning sign. The fic is constantly full of these whiplash interjects like a fixative "wow, sure hope no one thinks I'm a creep, kind of creepy lol" circling. This kind of uncharacteristic fixation is what She Doth Protest Too Much really looks like.

I don't have much in the way in personal stories because I just gave them space. Uhhh I ended up in a discord server where she was friends with just about every frequent poster and popular artist in there. I found her behaviour to be kind of argumentative, but never escalating. So I was like okay, I was being uncharitable, it's just that she's sensitive. Just because I don't like her doesn't mean I gotta be rude. She unblocked me (I was blocked for saying proship electric chair as a joke) and I so I tried to be supportive and sociable by getting into her fic for a while. And now people are posting the most singularly insane quotes I've ever seen from right after where I dropped off. Holy mary mother of god.

And ok. Not to be presumptuous. but her friend SpCh is a notorious flying monkey to the point when I made a thread about how people in the west don't really bother researching other cultures and basic aspects of other countries, assuming they know everything, and SpCh misinterpreted the entire thread so badly I can only assume she was defending SC's honour based on 1 tweet. GIRL I WAS TALKING ABOUT SCUM VILLAIN FANFIC. IF A HIT DOG HOLLERS?

[witcherwheeloftheyear]

A Witcher Wheel of the Year 2023

A Witcher Wheel of the Year will be a series of events all through the year 2023. 

There will be prompts based on every festival of the Wheel of the Year, and you are invited to create fics or art of whatever strikes your fancy for those. Prompts will be smutty and non-smutty, you can pick one or several. If you feel like creating something not based on the prompts, go ahead! We only ask that there is some connection to the festival, however you choose to interpret it.

All themes and genres are welcome, from G to E and from fluff to whump. This is a kink and darkfic friendly event, as long as you tag/warn accordingly.

No upper or lower word count limit for writers

All canons are welcome - games, TV shows, books

All ships are welcome, as are gen fics

Please be kind to each other - no bashing or kinkshaming ect.

On the date of each festival, there will be an event where you can share your work. Tag with #witcherwheeloftheyear so people can find it! Follow us on @witcherwheeloftheyear and @ us when you post so we can reblog!

Prompts will be revealed throughout the year, around three months ahead so you have time to create.

There is an AO3 collection here and a canonical tag: A Witcher Wheel of the Year Challenge

Mod: @bookscorpion (if you want to send me an anon message and you have no Tumblr account, please do so via a reply the Dreamwidth post for the event, 'More Options' will let you select anon)

Prompts and Dates

Dates

Imbolc February 2nd

Ostara March 20th

Beltane May 1st

Litha June 21st

Lammas August 1st

Mabon September 22nd

Samhain November 1st

Yule December 21st

Prompts

Imbolc

well/spring - divination - initiation - turning of the tide

pregnancy - cumplay - fireplay

snowdrop

dumpling

colour palette here

Ostara

maiden - balance - disguise - rebirth - dawn

caning (willow switches) - bloodplay - virginity/first time

tulip

eggs

colour palette here

Beltane

temperature play - milking - aphrodisiac

fire and smoke - protection - make a wish

hawthorn

strawberries

colour palette here

Litha

the longest day - dragons - dancing - dreams

orgy - fake marriage - semi-public sex

honeysuckle

cherries

colour palette here

Lammas

baking - offering - dolls - brawling

bondage - (riding) crops - cock and ball torture - a roll in the hay

sunflower

blueberry

colour palette here

Mabon

braids - walking in circles - harvest

ploughing - bit and bridle - breath play

aster

bread

colour palette here

Samhain

gateway/portal - lost (and found?) - beggar

candles/waxplay - mask/blindfold - taboo

buckwheat

honey

colour palette here

Yule

theater - straw - unexpected guest - echoes

chains - suspension - gift wrapped

holly

cake

colour palette here

Graphics for the moodboard by Crimsonherbarium, Sun Cross from Wikipedia, moodboard put together by bookscorpion. All base images free to use.

[albertfinch]

LORD OF THE HARVEST

We see that the engine of the Gospel message that drives it into the world--is His presence and glory. It is not a tantalizing self-induced experience that produces no fruit, but rather an illuminating light which leads the world to Jesus and becomes the pillar of fire that leads His Church into the world. Yet often in contemporary circles, we see the opposite in effect. We want to privatize His glory and keep it shrouded in personal experience, assuming the world will simply "catch on".

WE ARE THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD

Look at the words of Jesus carefully, "No man after he has lit a candle puts it in a secret place, neither under a bushel, but on a candlestick so that they that come in may see the light..." (Luke 11:33).

"YOU are the LIGHT of the WORLD" (Matthew 5:14).

We have become the transfiguring light of His presence and are the only hope of the world to see it. "To whom God would make known what is the riches of the glory of this mystery among the Gentiles, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory..." (Colossians 1:27).

Get ready for God to move you out of the confines and limitations of what you have mis-understood in the past about aggressively advancing His Kingdom.

OUR MISSION

Our job description now is to reveal the Light of eternity in a dark world void of it. We are light to the world and are here to TRANSFIGURE and TRANSFORM it.

In Luke 10:2, harvest is literally mentioned three times, "Then He said to them, 'The harvest truly is great, but the laborers are few; therefore pray the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into His harvest.'"

A "reaping or crop" is not "going" to be ready. It "was already" ripe, and the only hindrance to that reaping were the workers or laborers. That word "laborer" can be interpreted in the ancient text as " teacher." This world needs to be DISCIPLED into the Word of God.

Once the new converts are harvested they need teachers to disciple them into and understanding of their Christ identity -- and help them to come to an understanding of their Christ calling.

TEACHING AND PREACHING

We can never disqualify the necessity of teaching His Word. It's the very reason the glory was given and that divine power was granted -- to "be His witnesses." Look at Philip as he encounters the Ethiopian Eunuch in Acts 8:26-39.

Philip became the prophet to Africa's royal court sent by God along the roadside. He became the teacher that illuminated the ancient text of Isaiah revealing Christ to him. Then he was a mighty evangelist who baptized the man in water along the way after the eunuch openly confessed, "I believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God..." (verse 37).

STEPPING INTO OUR DESTINY

Rather than dissect God's power into cookie-cutter theologies, let's fully step into the brilliant light of the "Lord of the Harvest" and become His prophets, kings, priests, teachers, and evangelists to the world.  Three effects of this:

We come to realize the importance of equipping the body of Christ in their Christ identity, right standing with God, and walking in the Spirit.

We suddenly realize we have entered a harvest that is a result of the answer to Jesus’ ancient prayer, "..pray the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into His harvest"

You become that laborer and you become that harvester of a great glorious white harvest that continues to unfold as you become instrumental in equipping the body of Christ so they will be effective in advancing God’s Kingdom.

GREAT PROPHETIC ADVENTURE

The harvest we face today from the mouth of Jesus two thousand years ago. Like Philip, we run to it! This great adventure awaits us, and His glory will carry us into the white light of His presence, because we "are a city set upon a hill that cannot be hid" and we are the "Leukos" or "light of the world."

ALBERT FINCH MINISTRY

[mask131]

Deadly fall: The Grim Reaper

THE GRIM REAPER

Category: World culture / World mythologies

Everybody knows that, when it comes time to personify or embody the concept of Death in fiction, the Grim Reaper appears. Everybody knows what the Grim Reaper looks like: a skeleton dressed in a black robe or cloak with a hood, wielding a scythe, coming to collect the soul of a deceased or to “cut” the life of a person to cause their death.

But while this image is considered to be “universal” today, it wasn’t always the case. In fact, the very concept and idea of a Grim Reaper was conceived in England! In Europe, death as a concept and manifestation was always represented in art through skeletons. Moving, animated skeletons – even dancing skeletons in the case of the “Danse Macabre” motives. These skeletons were often draped in shrouds (which later caused the “white sheets” of the ghosts), but due to black being a color more associated with death, soon the embodiment of death came to be seen as wearing capes or cloaks of this color. Death in particular was VERY personified in England, where he was a traditional character of morality plays as well as of folk songs – but then, Death was only known as “Death”, nothing else. We would have to wait for 1847 and “The Circle of Human Life” for the term “grim reaper” to appear, describing dying as “meeting the grim reaper with his scythe”. Later, the expression became so popular it evolved into the “proper name” of the character, Grim Reaper.

Why a scythe, you might ask? Well originally speaking, it all dates back to Greek mythology. There is the characters of Kronos, the king of Titans and father of Zeus, who was depicted as holding a scythe – he had used it to emasculate his own father (long story). Kronos was turned by the Romans into Saturn, a god of agriculture and fertility, and the scythe symbol was kept. Already depicted as an old man, to show the “ancientness” of this deity, there also came to be a confusion between “Kronos” (the god’s name) and “Chronos”, which is the Greek word for time – this resulted in the well-known figure today of “Father Time”. Kronos devouring his own children to avoid being overtaken was completely counter-interpreted as “Time devouring all” and “Time destroying youth”. And soon, due to a displacement between Time and Death, the scythe of Kronos/Saturn was given to Death, who “reaps” the human souls when they are about to die the same way a reaper reaps the crops once the harvest is ready to be taken. But before the scythe was settled as THE weapon of death, many other instruments and tools were used: you can see medieval depictions of Death showing him wielding swords, spears or pitchforks.

I say “he” because the English language and tradition masculinized Death, something that Germany also did – but it should be remembered that in Latin-speaking countries of Europe, such as France, Spain and Italy, “death” is a female word, and by extension could often be depicted as a female entity. A last inspiration for the formation of the Grim Reaper figure should be mentioned: the Bible. More precisely the Book of Revelation (The Apocalypse). When describing the four horsemen of the Apocalypse, the last one is said to “ride a pale horseman”, and that his name is “Death”. This image of Death as a pale horseman struck DEEPLY popular imagination, which explains why Death is now often seen as a “pale rider”, or as riding a white horse. But again, it is a bit of a twist – as the “pale” of the original text did not mean “white” like people think today, but rather it designated a greenish color, “chloros”, a bit yellow on the side, meant to evoke the color of rot and of a corpse’ putrefaction. The name however was correctly translated as the text says the rider’s name was “Thanatos”, which is the Greek word for Death (as well as the name of their own death god), and the Biblical text even hit the nail even more by adding “and Hades followed him”. It is usually translated as “and Hell followed him”, but “Hades” in Greek was a more neutral word who simply designated the underworld and afterlife in a general way – and even could be used figuratively to talk about a tomb or a grave.

Once the picture of the scythe-wielding skeleton was settled, it quickly spread to the rest of Europe, often replacing local death incarnations.

For example, in Scandinavia the traditional Grim Reaper replaced “Pesta”, a supernatural hag in black hood embodying the plague (she was a death entity that was created during the times of the Black Plague). A descendant of the Norse goddess Hel, Pesta was said to wander into towns with either a broom or a rake, to collect the souls of her victims: if she had a rake, some people in the town would survive, like leaves escaping a rake; but if she had a broom, she would forget and spare no one. But when the Grim Reaper arrived, poor old Pesta was quickly forgotten: in fact, it is from Scandinavia that came to us one of the most memorable and influential depictions of Death on a cinema screen. “The Seventh Seal”, the Swedish film by Bergman. Lithuanians also had their own female incarnation of death replaced by the traditional Grim Reaper: they had the goddess Giltine, an ugly old woman with a long blue nose and a tongue covered with a deadly poison. Interestingly, according to their myth, she used to be a pretty young goddess, and a very pleasant person, but spending seven years locked in a coffin turned her into the monster she is today: meanwhile her sister, Laima, kept her charm, beauty and pleasantness – and she was the goddess of life, destiny, childbirth, marriage and luck.

Of course, while the Grim Reaper figure spread everywhere, it still has numerous local variations (it is Europe after all).

For example, in the French region of Bretagne there is the Ankou (see my posts about him). In Poland, the Grim Reaper is dressed in white, not black, and given their word for death is female (“smierc”), he tends to be a she, a skeletal old woman. In the Netherlands, Death is known as “Magere Hein” (Meager Hein) or “Pietje de Dood” (Peter the Death). And in many European countries, one will note that the behavior of Death or the names given to Death will correspond to those attributed to the devil – as often the fear and hatred of death led people to fuse together or confuse the figure of the devil and the one of the grim reaper.

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A fascinating study of the “Grim Reaper figures” would be the one of Death in Latin America. They have here a very rich series of cultures with very unique interpretations mixing the traditional Grim Reaper imagery with Christian religion. Three main entities come to my mind, all “folk saints” (saints that are not recognized by the Church in any way, but that exist in popular worship and in folklore):

# San Pascualito in Guatemala. The “King of the Graveyard” as he is called, San Pascualito Muerte appears as a skeleton in robes, or a skeleton wearing a crown, often with a scythe. A distortion of the cult of the actual saint known as Paschal Baylon, beyond a cult of death he is invoked and prayed to cure diseases and appease epidemics. His feast day is said to be the 17th of May, and he is usually given candles of different colors depending on what you ask him for (red for love, pink for health ; dark blue for work, light blue for money ; black for revenge, white for protecting children, etc…)

# San La Muerte. Mostly worshiped in Paraguy, with also a presence in north-eastern Argentine and southern Brazil (plus Buenos Aires). “Saint Death” appears as a skeleton with a hooded cloak (usually black and red) wielding a scythe (with sometimes blood on the blade), and is sometimes called “Señor de la Muerte” or Señor de la Buena Muerte, even “San Esqueleto” (Saint Skeleton). Like the previous saint, in exchange for prayers and offerings (one’s own blood, alcohol or precious objects) San La Muerte offers a variety of services : restore love, fortune or health, protect from witchcraft and remove the evil eye, offer good luck when gambling… But unlike San Pascualito, San La Muerte also has an active cult in prisons due to the saint also offering favors related to crime and violence: he can avoid one going to prison, shorten prison sentences, or cause the death of an enemy. Often invoked by brujas (witches) and curanderos (folk healers), San La Muerte’s feast day is the 15th of August.

A very “pagan” element of San La Muerte cult is the fact that the statues of his are the center of said cult, and treated as physical manifestations of the saint. They are consecrated by Catholic priest seven times to become “true” incarnations of the San (and since the Church disapproves and reject San La Muerte, people tend to hide the statue under the image of another saint to get the blessing anyway). These statues are kept on altars and “fed” with the offerings – families usually keep them hidden in their household for the San to bring protection over their families. When someone is favored by the San, they can pass on their protection to another person by giving them their statue of San La Muerte. It is also believed that if the statue is made of special materials, it will be more “powerful”: thus you have San La Muerte statues made out of baby bones, of Christian man bones, of coffin woods, carved in the crucifix that belonged to deceased… Same thing works for various amulets made of bullets (usually those that killed a man, especially a Christian man). These amulets, and tattoos or carvings of San La Muerte in the skin, are said to protect from bodily harm and imprisonment. And unlike other saint cults where you ask, beg, request favors from a saint, in the cult of San La Muerte, you have to “threaten” the saint: you threaten the statue with “hunger” (no offerings) or with “solitude” (banishing it to a dark corner of the house) in exchange for its favors, and once the San grants the favor you “reward” him through his statue (but not too much, as you must keep him “starving” for him to be open to a new deal).

# Santa Muerte is the Mexican manifestation of the “death cult” of Southern America. Santa Muerte (Holy Death/Saint Death), also known as “Our Lady of Holy Death”, Nuestra Señora de la Santa Muerte, is a female folk saint acting as the embodiment of death – a female skeleton with a long robe, holding a scythe and a globe. She is not like other saints a dead human: she IS death itself, taking shape: while the scythe is the typical tool represent her job of cutting the thread of life, the globe represents her dominion over all of earth. Despite her grim appearance, Santa Muerte is actually a benevolent entity who offers healing, protection, financial wellbeing, and a safe travel to the afterlife. Worshiped clandestinely until the 1990s, since then she became a popular public figure. Other attributes of her include the lamp (that she uses to guide us through the darkness, figuratively or literally), the owl (that acts as her messenger), the scale (that represents the divine justice and the equity and impartiality of the will she enacts), and the hourglass (typical Grim Reaper symbol, representing the limited lifespan of a human life – another heritage that the Grim Reaper got from Father Time). Her cult is informal and unorganized, going from a clandestine cult to a highly popular and fast-spreading trend: most people have home shrines dedicated to her, there are special votive candles of different colors to invoke her various favors ; similarly statues of the Santa Muerte are dressed in different colors to pray for different things (white for gratitude, purity and cleansing ; red for love and passion ; green for justice and legal matters ; gold for money, prosperity and economical success…). She receives a special sub-cult as “Señora de la Noche”, Lady of the Night, by those exposed to the dangers of working at night  (taxi drivers, bar owners, prostitutes, policemen…). Her feast day is either the 1st of November or the 15th of August depending on which area you are. Santa Muerte got for a time a bad reputation due to being one of the favorite saints of drug dealers, with her cult spreading to prisons (both among inmates and staff) and her prayers being tied to violent and illegal businesses ; but more recently, she also became the protectress of homosexuals, bisexuals, transgenders, and other queer people of Mexico due to them being outcasts of Christian religion and Mexican society, and Santa Muerte precisely being a non-conforming saint like them: her image is notably used during same-sex marriage ceremonies.

All these folk saints are part of the wider “cult of death” prominent across most Southern America cultures, a cult that is HIGHLY rejected by the Catholic Church, despite these folk saints precisely being created to fit in a Catholic context. It is not so much because they are fictional, or because some of them are clearly “pagan” practices (see San La Muerte), but it is rather because their very existence contradicts the fundamental teaching of Christianity – the one of Resurrection. Through Resurrection, Christ is the one who defeated and vanquished death, and the promise of Heaven by God is the one of an “endless” and “eternal” “true life”, going well beyond our limital physical existence ; the Christian doctrine does insist on death being simply a temporary state, and during Judgement Day, at the end of time, death will be erased as all will be resurrected to live in a state of eternity.

All this concept of death as a temporary thing or a vanquished power, by nature, cannot fit with the worship of death as a saint or holy concept in itself.