#everything is still subject to be changed and altered as i continue to work on things

[vacantgodling]

CURRENT BETWIXT THUMB AND FOREFINGER (AKA 19TH CENTURY TWILIGHT ADAPTATION THAT CRASHED INTO GOTH LIT SOMEWHERE) RESEARCH AND PLANNING and generally my chaotic thought process lmao.

sponsored by: @sarahlizziewrites & @ink-flavored

tl;dr: all of this is still subject to change bc i'm still planning a lot of this stuff out. however, i want to post what i have so far bc how i plan things is kinda intriguing to me and i wanna talk about something but bc i'm not Writing Prose atm this is all i got.

transposed under the cut but i wanted to showcase what the actual doc looks like :p

WIP NAME ⟶ BETWIXT THUMB AND FOREFINGER

(the hell) betwit thumb and forefinger — the time between solstice and equinox

with the secondary title that almost implies that the story is taking place over a short time period between solstice and equinox — which is a 90 day period, so about 3 months?

idk if i have to keep that in the title, but perhaps the title is a reference to how short a time this is in the grand scheme of things, especially in the life of an immortal creature, but for biscella this is a lifetime. going through every stage of grief and sommemore shit. so i think i’ll call it betwixt thumb and forefinger (BTAF)

some kind of celestial name (twilight/new moon/eclipse/breaking dawn) ⟶ something in this realm to tie back to twilight’s inspo’s somehow but idk if i wanna give that bitch the luxury

dark adaptation — the eyes’s transition to night vision

equinox / solstice

retrograde 

betwixt retrograde and amnesia LMAO

betwixt equinox and solstice

i need to decide what year i want this story to take place in cuz that’s gonna hinge everything.

History of the Netherlands - Wikipedia

peninsular war was 1807-1814. sjaak did not see the end of this conflict as he was turned into a werewolf by a fellow soldier “gust” (why, idk yet).

joined the french army (netherlands and french were allies during this time the batavain-french alliance™) and fought in the battle of zaragoza (1808) ; was injured and near death when he was found by gust a gravewalker. there’s been a rumor going around during the battle that people have seen corpses up and walk away from the battle and their wounds and its because gust (and others) have been turning them into werewolves for some greater purpose. — sjaak becomes one of these when he leaves.

if i assume that for all intents and purposes sjaak is 18 when he finally leaves the netherlands and joins the spanish FRENCH army, then maybe he’s 20 when he’s turned into a werewolf. so… 20 during 1808.

born: 1788 in the netherlands — black mother who was a slave but then brought to the netherlands and subsequently freed. father was the master of the home she worked at.

biscella is younger than sjaak and i want her to be a naive 18 during 1808—perhaps this happens during 1808? but then we would have the war to contend with going on unless it was removed from the battlefield somewhat.

the “cullens” are located in castillo-nuevo in what is now navarre spain and have cleared it out to build a castle there. that lonely castle in the middle of the wilderness is where biscella lies. the crypt is hidden among the mountainous landscape, and even though biscella was there during the funeral, another aspect of everything is eduard appearing to her in dreams/visions/as an apparition keeps her from knowing his location fully by scrambling her mind.

i want sjaak to kill that baby

“you have the face of the woman i love. but the blood of the man i hate flows thorugh you” or something. kills the damn baby and makes biscella’s death worthless in some ways

“she would’ve wanted you to live. she would’ve wanted me to show you the ways of the world and the sun in the trees and the apples that hang low from branches. but i am a monster filled with utter darkness and hate. i will kill what she cherished, and hope that in your death, her memory will haunt me.” or something.

NAMING STRUGGLES ⟶ Spanish naming customs - Wikipedia / Category:Catalan-language surnames - Wikipedia / Names Categorized "Twilight characters" - Behind the Name

possible names for bella (romani, coming from germany into netherlands after being expelled from the country or whatever)

biscella 

mirella ⟶ variant of amaryllis (meaning to sparkle)

sibella ⟶ prophetess (variant of the name sybil)

tsarla ⟶ evening

gisela ⟶ hostage/pledge

biscella schwann

tsarla schwann

gisela schwann

sibella schwann

karl schwann + tsarla schwann >> biscella schwann >> 

surnames for eduard & the cullens™ ⟶ casavantes (the name taken from the patriarch of the family; comas is the 

CHARACTERS

biscella schwann de casavantes (bella) ⟶ follows the standards of the region + is not spanish so she just goes with the flow

karl schwann (charlie father, dead)

tsarla schwann (mother, dead)

sjaak de witte (dutch) (jacob)

luis jofre casavantes basurto (carlisle) ⟶ created via union but killed his parents so he could defect to a “vegetarian” lifestyle (aka hibernation). he forbids the usage of venom to create more of their coven, forbidding the femme vampires from autonomous reproduction essentially.

maritxell comas miranda (esme) ⟶ wife and half-sister of luis; created via union and assisted luis in killing their parents so that they could start their own coven. completely loyal to him and was defanged in an act of loyalty (aka; she can no longer make other vampires stronger as luis removed her fangs, this also keeps her from drinking blood AND solely dependent on him for protection)

i want maritxell to actually have a more prominent role than just like. a sad woe is me matriarch. i want her to be like those women who uphold the patriarchy by being misogynistic towards other women. women like her own daughters (rosita and azelie) need to know their place, and because biscella is romani, she views her as subhuman (and also just as a breeder for eduard’s seed).

i don’t want her to be like romilda in vdtrt who’s more battered wife syndrome. i think maritxell and luis are very very complicit in one another’s bullshit.

rosita casavantes i comas (rosalie) ⟶ first child of the union between luis and maritxell, defanged at birth, rosita desperately wishes to be with child (need to figure out why). she is intensely jealous of biscella despite knowing the woman will die, and torments her now that eduard has been buried in the crypt.

eduard casavantes i comas (edward) ⟶ uses ‘i’ instead of ‘y’ or ‘de’ because he’s specifically from catalina ; created via union of luis and maritxell, and despite being the middle child, is the strongest of the vampire children.

azelie picard (alice) ⟶ luis impregnated a french woman who azelie assumed the name of once she was born. she was the one who met biscella first and despite everything is protective of her. she did not approve of eduard impregnating her (lesbian undertones and may defect and help sjaak, we’ll see). does not want to be defanged.

silvano di luise (jasper) ⟶ youngest child of the coven and born of an italian woman, his surname means ‘son of luis’ (as he is). he is very conflicted on the matter of whether or not they should stay ‘vegetarian’ if they’re still going to kill human (women) anyway by impregnating them with their spawn and thinks that human men should receive the same treatment by being killed for food or made as spawns as well. its caused infighting amongst the coven.

the other question is if i should add other characters. bc i included all the twilight vampires that are Actually Interesting (sorry emmett you’re fucking boring to me) and i’m also only including the werewolves that are interesting to me… which is mostly ig sam, leah, and whats her name. 

WORLDBUILDING AND SHIT

HOW VAMPIRES WORK (biologically)

vampires are made only through human hosts; vampires with penises can impregnate women and the pregnancy will last for 2 years until the woman is fully drained of all her blood and innards, then perish, with the baby bursting out of the womb

vampires without can impregnate men or women via their venom and it will take the form of a parasite forming in their stomach. these vampires tend to be more deadly, though because of the times it is rare to have these kinds of non-producing ‘coven’ leaders. they will do so if their mate is killed, but usually they use their venom to strengthen the other vampires in their coven.

vampires that are created via the union of two vampires in coitus will have a normal “human like” pregnancy, and tend to be the most powerful of all) (ie: eduard)

unlike werewolves vampires cannot be “turned” they can only be born.

HOW WEREWOLVES WORK (turned)

werewolves are the natural enemies to vampires as they were specifically engineered hundreds of years ago to be on par with the nightwalkers’s (vampires) habits.

they cannot be born biologically; once you are turned a werewolf you are infertile.

werewolves are created via consumption of the compound moonstone, which, as its name suggests, is what people of this time assume to be rocks from the actual moon.

whether it is or isn’t is debatable. its not Really important. you eat it and you are now lycanthrope congrats

[hey-august]

WC: ~680 (these keep getting longer...) Warnings: NSFWish, MDNI, Buggy x GN!reader, roleplay - teacher and student, buggy pls i am so sorry

This failure comes to you from the March Madness Week 3 results! Check out the full event here.

You sat at the captain’s desk, heart pounding louder than the scratch of pen against paper. Aimless doodles filled the paper. Anticipation from waiting had your mind bouncing forwards and backwards, thinking about what was to come and waiting for the moment to start.

Shifting in the wooden seat, you tried to find a position that was comfortable and polite. You settled for rolling your hips to gain some extra sensations before sitting properly, rather than spreading your legs wide and shoving a hand in your underwear.

Footsteps approached the room and the door creaked open. Buggy stepped in and closed the door behind him. He walked towards you, rolling up the sleeves of the white button-down shirt he wore for the occasion. You set down the pen and crossed your hands on the half-filled paper as he got closer. Buggy leaned over you, the low ponytail dangling over his shoulder swaying with the movement.

“Still working on the assignment?” he asked in a low, authoritative voice that increased the heartbeat between your legs.

“Yes, sir,” you replied, shuffling the paper prop to angle towards him.

“Mm?”

“Teacher- yes, teacher.” The correction flew out of your mouth at the disappointment in his voice.

“That’s better. It’s a good thing you’re a fast learner,” he said through a shadow of a smile. 

A large hand patted the top of your head alongside the compliment. You breathed in slowly, trying to hold in the sounds that wanted to escape as you imagined his hand sliding back to pull your head back with your hair.

Channeling that desire, you turned to face the pseudo scholar with your own smile. “Only because I have a great teacher.”

Buggy’s hand slid down, fingers dragging along your cheek, until he could pinch your chin. “Flattery will not get you far,” he said coolly.

A chill ran through your body, creating goosebumps in its wake, and leaving behind an opposing, searing heat.

“What else should I do?” The question came out in a soft whisper, partly due to the hold on your chin, as well as your nervous hope about the answer.

Buggy crouched down, bringing himself slightly lower than you. His thumb moved slightly, barely grazing your bottom lip.

“As your teacher, I should tell you to study more. Use your mind. But maybe we can work out a way for you to use your body…”

You give the smallest nod, afraid of pulling free from his touch.

“Chemistry is your weakest subject,” he continued, bringing back the heavy disappointment in his voice, “but I do have a solution. If you listen to me and do everything your teacher says, maybe we can create a different reaction.”

“Chemistry,” you repeated, your eyes darting across his face, trying to read his expression.

“Mmhmm.” Buggy nodded, missing the change in your expression. The change in your desire.

Playing pretend is fun. It’s enjoyable acting like someone different and making choices that you might not make normally. The downside is that your alter-ego isn’t always the only voice that joins the party. Sometimes another, more chaotic, voice tags along. 

Your disruptive voice showed up with a cry - this wasn’t the right subject. It shouldn’t be chemistry.

“I thought this was clown school.”

Silence.

No one breathed.

In the quiet, the voice in your head spoke again. It repeated one word twice. 

You reached for Buggy’s nose, intent on recreating the onomatopoeia you heard in your head. The hold on your chin lifted as the clown slapped your hand away. 

Buggy looked equal parts shocked and pissed. He glared at you, mulling over what you said. After a moment, he licked his lips and swallowed. Then he nodded.

“Alright. Alright! If you want me to teach you a lesson, it’s gonna be one you won’t forget,” he said gruffly. 

A floating hand grabbed your arm and maneuvered you into position. Listening to the clink of his belt, you thought that it would take a lot to get him to try and roleplay like this again. But feeling his rough grip on your hips, you decided it was worth it.

[dandelionjack]

now that i’ve deferred because a uni degree is nothing but an entrance ticket into moderate financial security and not worth utterly obliterating my mental health over i am compiling my own curriculum. all the posts i’ve ever tagged with #ref because they contain essays articles and other texts that i want to read but have never gotten around to, all that goes on the list. around fifty academic articles and book chapters downloaded onto my laptop from jstor while i still have access to it, tailored to fit my personal interests.

rearranging my self-education. little mx autodidact. carving out a passage through the brambles with a freshly sharpened machete. make no mistake, the thorns are piercing and will continue to tear at my exposed limbs, but the pain is worth the fruits of knowledge at the end, real knowledge and not something superimposed from above. i know, i know, undergrads aren’t afforded that freedom of narrowing our study, it’s something earned with time and effort and only fully permitted at a “higher” level of education, but who determines these levels?

it sounds silly and rash, but it’s a long-deliberated decision. the university environment is not right for my weird brain despite my literary inclinations, and i prefer to select my own path towards learning while working a low paying job on the side. perhaps i’ll return in a year’s time after all, matured and mellowed, hardened or roughened with real-life experience and online self-teaching, to pursue liberal arts as the most, well, liberated pathway. maybe not.

maybe if i had gone to one of those colleges where they allow you to pick and choose your own modules for your degree entirely (like one of the people that i most admire on this website did in its time) things would have gone down differently, but alas. let the world keep turning and let everything that serves no purpose any longer decompose and compost into something new .

“what has this got to do with autism?” you may ask, “i’m autistic and i completed a normal bachelors’ degree just fine.” your answer: having been in a place of moderate autistic burnout for years that abruptly turned severe in the past few months, my bodymind has shifted into what is known rather disparagingly under the medical model as “autistic regression” or “regressive autism”: a gradual distancing further and further away from accepted neurotypical standards of moving through and navigating the world around me.

one of the ways in which this unmasking presents itself, apart from the more noticeable characteristics such as outwardly visible stimming and a complete absence of eye contact, is a total inability to focus on, be motivated by and/or engage in any (textual, literary, cinematic etc etc) materials that do not connect at least tangentially or superficially with my special interests (that being ghosts/hauntings, hauntology, folk horror, lovecraftiana/cosmic horror, horror in general, the gothic, neurodiversity, alternative music; narratives/storytelling, folklore/fairytales; queer theory; carceral abolition and liberation; and a few other subjects here unlisted). according to normative capitalist logic of usefulness and productivity, that makes me “severely disabled” by virtue of “restricted interests”. i would say it makes me a interesting person with tall twisted tales to tell, but nevermind that silly nonsense, it’s a mad person speaking.

at this present moment i have no motivation, wish nor desire to continue wasting time and energy attempting to study and remember things that do not connect with the key concepts that my mind is constantly orbiting around. if that makes me incurious or annoying or limited, so be it — this neurological difference affects every aspect of my personality and i do not wish to change it. if the world around us refuses to change, we must either alter it ourselves or construct our own pathways out of the shadows and into the moonlit garden.

[arcane-abomination]

Working with Eldritch deity is very much a UPG subject in the most general of senses, so be aware that there are other ways to do things, this is just how I do it.

It’s important to read up on the practice of Yog Sothothery before getting into this blog. So visit my Yog Sothothery Blog first.

Who is he?

Yog Sothoth is the son of Azathoth the blind idiot god. He lives outside of existence and as such outside of the realm of both life and death as we know it. It’s said that he sees all and in turn is acutely aware of the past, present, and future at all times. He is also often called as the key, and guardian of the gateway to other dimensions which makes him a being that dwells in the liminal.

With this in mind Yog Sothoth is often closely associated with magick pertaining to knowledge gain, divination, dimensional travel (the astral realm, spirit realm, dream realms, etc), as well as necromancy and even the void by those who work with that sort of magick. This magick in particular may not always make sense to some but those who practice it find it very fitting since the void as well exists outside of existence but is ever present. Those that work with him on this level often view him as a dweller of the void or at the very least a frequent visitor.

Appearance

A deity incomprehensible by the human mind, he is described in multiple ways throughout the Mythos. However, their still seems to be main consensus for the most part. This visage is often drawn from the descriptions in text and comes down to the deity being a mass of glowing orbs and/or tendrils that continuously merge and reform. In a sense his form is chaos, forever changing and altering.

However, it is also said amongst those who practice Yog Sothothery that the deity has avatars. Bodies created into forms that appear more manageable to the human psyche. To each person he appears differently, drawing on something he deems they will connect with on a more personal level. Sometimes this form retains some of its Eldritch roots while other times it can even appear as an animal or in some cases more human. To me he appears almost jellyfish like, in a greyish blue hue.

Calling Yog Sothoth

This is a symbol I created from the mixing of two additional Yog Sothoth symbols other people had made. I use it as a point of contact with our physical realm, much like you do with any spirit you call. It’s a tag lock, that helps the deity to lend its energy to our realm more easily. It presents a way to temporarily tie a piece of themselves here. As a general rule for any deity though, consecrating this for their use is very important. I pair this symbol with a black geode I own that resembles the shape of an eye, but you can use whatever crystal, figurine, or candle you like. You can even just use the Sigil itself drawn on paper. And to be completely honest, nothing is required in general here, but it does work better to have something, even if it’s just a slip of paper.

As for the process itself, everything is quite simple. I chant the summon over the sigil and crystal then close my eyes to meditate and feel his presence. (So pretty standard deity summoning). Now please be aware I do incorporate both Latin and English with my summoning, as I feel it adds an extra kick to the energy. If you don’t feel comfortable pronouncing the Latin though, then just use the English. It’s important to feel comfortable when doing any sort of summoning.

LATIN

”Iä Yog Sothoth porta seit. Iä Yog Sothoth porta clavis et custos. Praeterita, preasentia, futura omnist in Yog Sothoth unum sunk.

Veni ad, pro te. Exaudi orationem meam ad te et exaudi vocem meam.”

ENGLISH

”Iä Yog Sothoth who knows the gate. Iä Yog Sothoth who is the gate. Past, present, and future. All are one in Yog Sothoth.

Come to me I pray to thee. Listen to me and answer my call.”

Once I feel his presence, I go about whatever work I have to do. When I’m finished I give an offering if he requires one (he doesn’t always) and then I give gratitude and thank him before dismissing him from the circle and closing the gate. There isn’t any special way to do this last part it honestly changes every time I do it.

Symbolism

Since Yog Sothoth works with everyone in a unique way, his symbolisms in turn will be just as unique. The following are the symbols I associate with him within my craft. The reasoning for lots of these is because they are either tied to knowledge in some way or the liminal.

COLOR: Black, Dark Blue, Dark Purple

CELESTIAL ELEMENTS: Darkness & Chaos

REGULAR ELEMENTS: All of them

ANIMALS: Jellyfish & Owls

TOOLS: Divination Tools (Tarot, runes, pendulum, etc), Grimoire, & Spirit Boards

SACRED PLACES: Libraries, Cliffs, Beaches

SACRED TIMES: Dawn & Dusk

CHAKRA: Crown & Third Eye

BODY PARTS: Brain, Eyes, & Skull

CRYSTALS: Black Quartz (not Smokey), Labradorite, & Amythest

INCENSE: Lavander, Patchouli, & Sandalwood

OFFERINGS: Incense, stories, poems, alcohol, & water

PLANTS: Asters, Begonias, Oak Trees

MOON PHASE: New Moon

TAROT: The Magician

[ledalasombra]

My not so normal little sister

Chapter 2: Family is much more than blood

“ Time is a funny thing, did you know? The future becomes the present and the present becomes the past. Time is always dynamic…" Ladybug looked at her friend, Bunnix, before replying.

"My presence here is already altering our timeline. The more information I have, the greater the change. We know how dangerous messing with the timeline is...."

"That's true. But I also know that sometimes changes are necessary to keep the universe in balance. It was necessary to bring you here today, because if the league of assassins has access or greater knowledge about the Miraculous, the result is much worse. Take care of yourself, mini Bug." Bunnix smiled slightly seeing her friend walk towards the portal, holding her by the shoulder before she left. "Before you go, keep in mind two things: family doesn't depend on blood and you'll lose a lot if you don't go after yours..." Ladybug looked at her not understanding what she was talking about, frowning slightly, but before she could ask what it was about, Bunnix continued "and remember forgiving is not just good for the other person, but for your happiness as well. When you think all is lost, use these two pieces of advice I'm giving you. This will help you to move forward. You have a life, put your happiness ahead a little.”

Marinette woke up startled, trying to orient herself from where she was. She tightened the sheets with her fingers, letting her breathing return to normal, startled at the sound of her Kwami's voice.

" You need to sleep, Marinette." Said a thin voice lying beside her on the bed. She was going to the hospital the next day and was so nervous that just thinking about it, she couldn't close her eyes.

"Easy to say but difficult to do Tikki." She took a deep breath " I'll check some emails and then I'll try to sleep again. I'm nervous, anxious, tired…"

"I know, but it's going to be alright! Don't worry about it."

"Yeah, I really hope so Tikki. We have no way of knowing really ...." she replied as she scanned the emails, stopping at one where the last name caught her attention. It had been more than three days since Peter had given her the name of the boy who was Janet Drake's son, and after a little investigation by her friend (an investigation she is even afraid to ask how it was done), she discovered that there is a chance that she was changed in the hospital." Tikki, is it just a coincidence that my client has the same surname as the boy who could be my brother?" She asked after a while, looking at the little Kwami in front of her.

"Coincidence or fate? Her soul was chosen to be Ladybug. Luck is with you… you just need to know how to use it." The little kwami smiled "You can only know if you ask, don't you think?"

She thought for a few minutes weighing the pros and cons reading and rereading the email in front of her.

From: mdc@mdcfashiondesign.com

To: ceo_timdrake@we.com

Subject: Absence

Hi, how are you? It is a pleasure to receive your contact email!

Unfortunately, due to health reasons, I will be away for a few weeks and will not be fulfilling/accepting any requests. But don't worry, as soon as everything returns to normal, I'll be contacting you personally and, if there's still interest, I'll be scheduling an appointment.

I hope you stay well!

Sincerely,

MDC

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

From: ceo_timdrake@we.com

To: mdc@mdcfashiondesign.com

Subject: Re: Absence

MDC,

I hope it's nothing serious and that you can recover as soon as possible. I'm a huge fan of your work and I believe you are one of the best fashion talents of this century.

I look forward to your health improving.

My greetings,

Timothy Drake

----‐----------------------------

Marinette looked at the email again and decided that she needed to at least try. Years ago she stopped trying to understand how the universe worked, accepting the chances that were handed to her. Fate works in different ways. She took a deep breath, sat up comfortably and wrote the guy an email.

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

From: mdc@mdcfashiondesign.com

To: ceo_timdrake@we.com

Subject: Information and doubts (curiosity)

Monsieur Timothy Drake,

How are you? I hope you're well. The reason for my contact is for a personal question, which has nothing to do with my work or yours.

Forgive my total intrusion and indiscretion, but your surname is familiar to me. Are you by any chance the eldest son of Janet Drake? If this is being too rude of me, please disregard this email.

Sincerely,

MDC

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

Tim sighed heavily as he stared at the scream in front of him. He has always considered himself a person with a high intellect with an ability to understand and correlate data very easily. He has always considered himself a great detective, looking at different types of information, analyzing different situations, and despite his constant ability to stay awake for a long period of time, he hardly ever let anything slip out of his knowledge. However, upon receiving an email from his favorite fashion designer, he was surprised and a little intrigued. How did she know his parents? His curiosity got the better of him when he decided to answer the email and try to understand what that strange question was about. He finished the coffee he was currently drinking, checking the time on the computer in front of him. He had a meeting in an hour and his secretary would surely come to let him know. He read the email again before starting to type.

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

From: ceo_timdrake@we.com

To: mdc@mdcfashiondesign.com

Subject: Re: Information and doubts (curiosity)

Dear MDC,

You can call me Tim since that's what everyone normally calls me.

I am an only child and yes Janet and Jack Drake were my parents. Did you happen to know them? I confess that I was surprised and confused by this question.

Awaiting return.

Regards,

Tim

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

Marinette could barely contain herself in bed, waiting anxiously for an answer. She decided to get up and make some tea, as she was still within the allowed time to eat before being admitted to the hospital. She set out her cup and a soothing tea while she waited for the water to heat up, when she heard the notification of incoming messages in her cell phone. She picked up, seeing the response and opening the email almost immediately. She poured the water into her cup, taking it to her room, already picking up the computer that was open on her email, formulating a response that wasn't confusing and inappropriate.

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

From: mdc@mdcfashiondesign.com

To: ceo_timdrake@we.com

Subject: Re: Re: Information and doubts (curiosity)

Tim,

I believe that before starting any explanation, a proper presentation should be made. My name is Marinette Dupain - Cheng and although I grew up and lived in Paris all my life, I was born in Gotham.

I haven't met them personally, but I have a rather intriguing question. I hope you understand that what I will share with you is confidential and personal, just like my name. I believe that if it were not for the situation currently presented, I would not be disclosing such information. Therefore, I would like nothing disclosed here to be commented on. I'm trying to believe that with the reputation you have in the business, information that was passed by a close friend of mine, and NDA documentation already signed in advance, we don't have a problem with breaches of confidentiality.

On the day of my birth my parents were traveling and they visited Gotham. On the same day, a little earlier, there was an attack by some villain with hostages which apparently led to a large number of people being hospitalized. I don't particularly have details of what happened, but from what I understand, the hospitals were full and our mothers ended up sharing a room while they were in labor. The two gave birth to girls with dark hair and blue eyes, however of the two girls only one survived. For health reasons and some necessary tests, I ended up discovering that my parents are not my biological parents.

A friend from New York and I started an investigation to find out what happened and that's when I came across your parents' names. I'm sorry if I'm being a bit vague, but all the information I have will be sent to you as an attachment. Understand, I don't want anything from you or your family other than wanting to understand what happened over 20 years ago.

If you don't want to get involved with this situation, I understand. It's a bit complicated and I believe that not everyone involved wants or will try to help me solve this case.

I hope you understand my side. The attached documents can be found at the hospital.

Regards

Marinette

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

When Tim decided to reply to the message, he didn't expect that, after a few minutes, he would get an answer. When he heard the incoming message signal and read its entire contents, the young CEO nearly fell out of his chair. He opened the submitted documents and, to be sure, looked at the hospital documentation. It took less than 20 minutes for him to confirm that the documentation she was presenting was genuine. It was all right! He had a sister and no one told him. He must have been five, almost six when she was born, but there is no record of her anywhere in the house. His parents wouldn't hide something so important! Tim took a deep breath, squeezing his temples with his fingertips. Was it too much to ask for a late afternoon without any problems?

"Tam? Could you bring me one coffee? I'm trying to sort out some issues and it would really be nice to have a cup at the moment..." He heard the confirmation on the other end of the line and went back to analyzing the information in the documents he received and decided the best start would be to request a DNA test and, if so, look for the nurse who attended to the two families. He was still in disbelief that his own parents had hidden his sister's birth. Although, who he wanted to fool, he knew Jannet and Jack Drake better than anyone and he knew that yes, his parents would hide information like that.

He spent a few minutes thinking about what to do and the implications of what was said. She must have been switched at the hospital and there's a chance she's his sister. But how? Reluctantly, he looked at the email, rereading it completely, until he resolved to respond.

-----

Marinete was already in his bed, in her apartment, lying down and trying to sleep. She was thoughtful looking at the ceiling. She couldn't sleep! She had so much going on at once that she felt lost. Fate always knows where to direct things. Was that what Alix tried to warn about following her family, what she felt and knowing how to forgive?

"family doesn't depend on blood and you'll lose a lot if you don't go after yours... and remember forgiving is not just good for the other person, but for your happiness as well. When you think all is lost, use these two pieces of advice I'm giving you. This will help you to move forward.”

Marinette stared at the ceiling for a few minutes thinking. She has always considered herself a person with a great ability to understand different situations and assess everyone's side so as not to be unfair. She ran her hands over her face, glancing at the clock on the table beside her bed that read 00:30 in the morning. It had been almost forty minutes since she had sent the last email to the person who could be her brother and she didn't know if she was right to just dump everything to the guy via email. She looked to the side seeing Tikki and Plagg hunched over each other exhaling in frustration until she heard a message beep on her cell phone. She looked at the phone opening the email as soon as she received it.

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

From: ceo_timdrake@we.com

To: mdc@mdcfashiondesign.com

Subject: doubts

Marinette/MDC

While I'm ecstatic to know who you really are (believe me, I've been crazy about this information for a while) I'm simultaneously shocked and not knowing what to think. I confess that I was not aware that I had a sister, much less that she apparently passed away. I was very young and I don't remember very well what happened at the time.

I will look for the nurse and try to understand in my own way what is happening. I am as lost as you are and I hope we can understand the facts that led to our present. First, I suggest that we do a DNA test to be sure whether or not we are brothers. Please don't take my words and think it's a matter of mistrust. However, I must emphasize that the question itself is very delicate and it would not be prudent to assume something so important as true.

Really, I'm speechless and still trying to understand everything you told me. Technically, I'm the only family member alive and finding out that I might have a sister is shocking to say the least. I hope you understand my side, because after more than twenty years finding out that my parents had another child and I wasn't even aware of the event is a little worrying.

I await your return so we can try to move forward with the situation.

Tim

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

Tim read the email several times before hitting send. He was sure he couldn't take her word for granted, but he also didn't want to sound rude and simply say he distrusted the person who greatly admired the work. He had or had a sister and it didn't get out of his mind. He started doing a general check on the life of the person who could be his only blood family starting through her social media and then would check her entire history. He wasn't considered one of the best detectives in the world for nothing.

After about twenty minutes of looking at social media, Tim can see that Marinette was a very beautiful woman, she undeniably had her mother's features and, in a way, could say that she would pass for her sister very easily because they looked alike. She had friends in a high social circle, studied for a few months in New York, where she has work contacts. She was undeniably a charismatic person and much loved by people who frequented her social networks and had great admiration and respect for her parents. He smiled slightly at the knowledge that she had a different childhood from his.

Taking a deep breath, he slumped against the chair as he ran his hands through his hair. He saw his secretary enter the room to remind him of the meeting he was supposed to go to and that he had no mind at the moment. He got to his feet, turning off the computer, not hearing the signal of new email arriving on his cell. He walked to the room where he would have the last board meeting of the day.

After getting out of yet another one of the many useless meetings he attended, Tim headed straight home. He would thoroughly research the whole thing, starting with the night of his sister's birth. He quickly left his things in his room, heading straight for the cave, where it would be easier to do research. He had about two hours before the whole family showed up.

According to the death certificate, his sister's name was Mary Hellen Drake. Marinette wasn't such a far cry from Mary. He opened the email again to check the documents Marinette had sent when he realized there was an email he hadn't checked. He opened it immediately, checking that there were two documents attached, opening them in the background as he read her response.

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

From: mdc@mdcfashiondesign.com

To: ceo_timdrake@we.com

Subject: Re: doubts

Tim

I understand exactly what you mean and, again, I must stress that I have no interest in taking part in anything concerning your family other than knowing everything that has happened in the past. I have no resentment towards your words. Really, I'm relieved to know that I'm not the only one with misgivings on the subject.

My parents and I took the DNA test in 2 different laboratories, getting the same results in both. I am attaching the results in case you want to contact the laboratories. Trust me, my head is full of all the information. My parents are devastated, not knowing what happened to their biological daughter and worried about how I'm coping. They're trying to pass themselves off as strong, but I know it's hard. The pain in their eyes is visible and I haven't even had the courage to tell them that I started investigating what happened in the past. In short, they don't know about your parents, the nurse, your sister's death certificate or you.

Regardless of how this whole story will develop, I appreciate your attention and patience in the face of this whole issue. As I said in my initial contact email, I am taking a leave of absence due to illness. I'm going to have surgery tomorrow, so I won't be answering any kind of contact for the next few days. I'm sorry to have to throw all this information at you and just disappear, but I believe that fate must have given my life a little push right now. And who am I to ignore that?

Jokes aside, I hope we can work things out so to speak. As an only child (so far) I must say that while I'm excited about the development of all this, I'm also a whirlwind of positive and negative emotions, but I'll leave it to resolve later...

If all goes well, we'll talk at another time. For now, I will leave my personal phone number (+33 01 XXXX XXXX). Feel free to send me any message, but again, I won't be responding anytime soon.

Stay safe!

Marinette

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

As soon as he finished reading Tim felt a little lost in a mixture of despair and depression. If she was his sister, she was sick and he didn't even know what it was about. It had been more than two hours since she'd sent the last message, it was dawn in France and he didn't want to risk waking her up. He took a deep breath and decided to compartmentalize the information. Initially, he hacked into the labs' system, seeking her clinical results so he could match them to his DNA. As soon as he finished downloading the data, he left the computer doing the comparison between the data in the background as it would take some time to finish.

As soon as he got the computer working, he looked up her data from the Paris hospital systems and, after a while, was able to find her chart. She was due to go into surgery in a few hours to remove a brain tumor and the extent of her danger was not yet confirmed. He stared at the screen in front of him, as he heard the audible confirmation of data comparison.

Tim saved all the documents he found in a protected folder so that no one would see. In a mixture of nervousness and anxiety, he opened the program checking the genetic markers and the conclusion that indeed Marinette Dupain-Cheng was his biological sister.

[etherealvoidechoes]

Borderlands AU - Welcome Back, Handsome Jack  - Chapter 3: Stained Glass….Leads to…

Discussions for future surgical operations are had between Jack and Viktoria. Then the first of a few grueling surgeries begins which Jack greatly underestimates.

Ao3||FF.net||Wiki Hub

1||2||3||?||?||?

Heyo! Been a while for this one. As you can see it may become a 5 or 6-parter as I had quite the writing spree and have changed my direction a bit. Had to chop this chapter in half as it would have been too long. Still iffy on continuing this (once short) fic is done.

Also, more surgical stuff in this chapter, and it's really just torturing this bastard we all love and love to hate.

Additionally, Gemini Helix is my own creation. So want to clear up any future confusion there.

Approx 8.8k

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Even with Mr. Blake privately insisting on a cursory double-check of Handsome Jack’s lucidity when he authorized Dr. Viktoria—and provided a blank check—the doctor soon toiled away on the impossible task. Working with her assistants, as well as the doctors and scientists on Helios Station, they set out to get everything prepared for the multiple surgeries and treatments Jack would be subjected to. 

For everyone’s continued safety, Viktoria kept Handsome Jack in the loop. A useful tip Blake passed onto her to help them placate Jack’s ego… when it would fully come back. He strongly disliked not knowing the details of things dealing with him directly and hated if you kept key details from it. And then that ego was just finicky as his current health. Currently, part of him seemed more mellow since his return to life. But just the right(wrong) word or action would set the man off, leading to an hour long raving rant before an eridium level spike would lay him out.

Jack’s health was a constant tug-o-war of touch and go. One moment, he would be fine and mostly lucid, as they did some tests. Then, the next moment, a random surge of eridium energy would rip through his body, causing him to froth at the mouth and seize for minutes or some hours. Re-stabilizing him was a constant pain as the errant eridium energies and gas spewed from his mouth were a biohazard to all. Additionally, they also had to deal with his constantly fluctuating body temperature. The fact he somehow wasn’t suffering from brain damage, more organ failures, or spontaneous combustion eluded everyone. Dr. Viktoria was more intrigued.

She floated around theories, with all that would be privy to the situation, on how the eridium was both killing and keeping him alive. Why? She wasn’t quite sure yet. She was still formulating some theories, but they weren’t to a degree she wished to share with the others. If they were shared too soon, it could cause a great deal of chaos if it reached Jack’s ears.

But there was one theory she plucked at. The late Colonel Tungsteena Zarpedon and her most likely Eridian-gifted abilities. Perhaps he, too, had been blessed — more like cursed — by the Eridian technology he meddled with. How to test that?

For the current time, more tests dealing with introducing refined liquid eridium to Jack’s system were taking place. It looked like the insane treatment option was alleviating the worst of his ailments. Just too slowly. The transfusions needed to diffuse more quickly in his system to achieve the balance it was lacking.

Viktoria had some ideas to fix that. She had already extensively marked the areas of his body where the new infusion and drainage ports needed to be placed. But with Jack’s more unique condition, she needed to make more extensive modifications. If their lovely boss would be up for it. She knew Jack was rather touchy about this appearance. And Mr. Blake was more than kind to show her a recording of his first surgery when he came back to the world of the living.

Though Jack gave her the go-ahead to do whatever was needed to get him back up and running, she knew she had to approach all future operations that could alter his appearance with the utmost care, as everyone’s necks were on the line.

She figured the best way to do so was to get the man involved before any major surgeries would take place. It would be a dangerous game of playing with and placating his ego as she would bring up the potential augmentations that may be needed. Maybe letting him make some design “suggestions” would keep him in a good mood?

——————— 

“Soooooooo, Mr. Jack.” Dr. Viktoria said as she walked over — almost glided — to her boss with a tablet in hand. “Let’s discuss the operation for removing the old ports and putting in the new ones that you’ll be undergoing in just a few hours.”

A few days had passed, and it was nearly time for the first stages of this mad endeavor to begin. They had moved Jack to another retrofitted medical room that could better handle his ever-changing condition. She was still rather surprised how Jack hadn’t been making any demands to have a more extravagant room for his long medical stay. Looked like the more logical side of his brain had beaten down that megalomania. But they were prepping a room like that, just in case. 

Jack had been up and fairly lucid for some hours, without any major issues. He just occasionally shooed away Viktoria’s workers as he when didn’t feel like being touched. He never knew skin could be so sensitive. 

Currently, he was catching up on the ongoings of Hyperion, Pandora, and the Six Galaxies. New Vaults found. Corporate wars on the horizon. Although he had returned, the Handsome Jackpot stayed locked down, yet it still drew in new “customers.”  He grinned at that. Then, the Crimson Raiders wrecking at least three major Hyperion mining operations on Pandora. Furrowed brows and a snarl quickly replaced that smile. In due time you bastards. There was so much to take in. So much had happened since his defeat.

  “Hm?” Jack looked up from a few holo-panels he was reading. Eyes followed that quirky doctor as she sat down next to him. He had so many questions about her current body, but those would have to wait. “Haven’t we gone over this like a bajillion times?”

“Yes.” She nodded. “But your memory retention has been poor due to several, factors and I just want to make sure you understand everything.”

He rolled his eyes. That was true, but he didn’t see how it mattered. With a few hand gestures, he turned off the holo-panels and turned to face her. He rolled his hand a few times. “Just peachy… let’s get this over with, cupcake. Again.” 

Turning her tablet to him and causing a few holo-panels to appear, Viktoria began to go over what was going to be done in just a few hours. He would be under general anesthesia to remove the old ports, but for the new ports, she strongly reiterated several times that he would be under no anesthesia as they would be integrated into his system.

Jack just nodded along, giving the occasion “uh huh” and “mhm” as the doctor went over where the key ports would be placed around his body. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes at how she continued to express how painful it would be. It couldn’t be that painful despite her claims of her self-operation, and what she did for the overgrown, mutated slab of mutilated meat of a bodyguard, Geise. 

Overdramatic. It can’t be that bad. Nothing I can’t handle!

They discussed what materials would comprise the composition of the ports as well as color options. Much to Viktoria’s surprise, Jack didn’t care too much about the color. He off-handedly assumed that could be changed later, if he even cared, as they would be covered 99% of the time and the galaxies wouldn’t know. He was more interested in the materials as the mention of how they would interact with him and the eridium in his system tickled that more technical part of his brain.

“So besides the usual Hyperion tech, you’re using the E-tech we created and patented — Makes sense. Wonder how R&D has been going…” Jack’s eyes were scanning the information on how they would adapt the technology to help control and redirect those randomly occurring energy spikes. 

“Recovered intact Eridian tech that can manipulate eridium in a similar manner…” His voice trailed off as he skimmed the details and images. “Huh, nice finds. Though the more bio-mechanical stuff…” He closed his eyes. His shoulders tenses as his body briefly shuddered. The thought of having any of that tech integrated into his system… No, no, no. That will totally mess up my good looks. He figured she was just referencing to see how to reverse engineer some aspects of how it worked. She wouldn’t be crazy enough to integrate any of that into him. 

“Some almost look like… Vault keys…” He noticed how some split into three parts. “How many are out there now?” 

The design of some of the artifacts caught his eye. Each was uniquely shaped. Though he was obsessed with the Vault of the Warrior on Pandora (and would sort through the other Vaults on the planet once it was cleansed), as he researched the Vault and Sirens, he learned of other Vaults on many planets across the cosmos. 

Maybe there’s something greater than the Warrior out there? Yes, yes, there is. There’s something far greater than the Warrior that’ll snuff out those bandits. When I’m better, I’ll take a look at the archives from what I saw in the Elpis Vault. My memories are… fuzzy right now.

He shook his head. Not the time for those thoughts just yet. He needed to get his health back in order. With his mind refocused, he looked at the last entry Viktoria had.

“And finally… Maliwan and Gemini Helix tech?” A major competitor and some mid-size bio-corporation. A brow was raised before he looked at her. “Why?”

“For Maliwan, they are pioneers in elemental tech and they’ve made strides with the handling of Slag. I will be using their filtration methods to filter out that waste that courses through your system.” She smiled before continuing. “Additionally, their E-tech modifications will aid with energy regulation and other minor details.”

He raised a hand to his chin and tapped his lip. He nodded. “Makes sense. Just make sure everything has the Hyperion aesthetic. And make sure we don’t have any issues with ‘copyright infringement.’”

“I will keep that in mind, but no one will be able to see what’s under the skin. And we have that covered.” She chuckled. 

“How about those Gemini people?” He was trying to remember what they did, but it escaped his mind.

“Courtesy of our ever so keen corporate spies, Gemini Helix has been dabbling in some eridium experiments. “Borrowing” their data, we will be applying just a touch of genetic modification to help your cells better handle the eridium transfusions. Just another failsafe for the Slag filtration.”

He pressed his tongue against his teeth. His eyes shifted back and forth from the corners before he looked at her with a pointed squint. “Genetic manipulation?”

“Oh! Nothing major. I dare not mess with your sublime form.” Her brow twitched faster than the eye could catch.

He snorted. Damn straight. The squint softened as he straightened himself up, almost puffing out his chest.

“Now, for the next part. I warn you, this is not for the faint of heart.”

“Sweety,” a wicked grin crept across Jack’s face, “try me.”

With a few taps, Viktoria brought up various images and videos of Geise’s operation, and then some mockup videos of Jack’s body showing where the major ports would be placed. 

They both showed the excruciating detail of how the surgeries would go. The incisions through the several layers of tissue to get all the way down to the organs and bones. Using the bio-mechanical Eridian tech to help the other tech interlace with the cardiovascular and nervous system. It was like a web of vines sprawling across the layers of tissues, rooting themselves deeply into every nook and cranny. 

“And you must be awake for every second. All of this will be excruciatingly painful.” Viktoria said. “I’m not being sarcastic when I say that. I am beyond 500% serious. You will wish for death every single second.”

Jack was barely listening to her as he was watching Geise’s operation. “Huh,” he mumbled under his breath. “looks like he got torn apart by some Skags. Or rabid bandits.” 

Geise looked more like a neon glowing mangled puzzle of a corpse than an actual human body laying on the operating table; barely sustained by the tech Viktoria and her crew had on hand. The work they had to do to get him to resemble a functional body again before the intensive integration of cybernetics, bio-organic material, and eridium began.

Though there was no volume, he could almost imagine the howls of pain the bodyguard let out as he thrashed on that table. With each new part integrating into his system as the reconstruction trudged on, the thrashing grew worse. 

Jack let out a laugh seeing one clip of a later date where Geise grabbed the throat of an unlucky worker, nearly snapped their neck, before throwing them across the room.

Viktoria’s brow twitched. I can’t tell if he’s frightened, intrigued, or… turned on by this… The stories I’ve heard and those files Blake gave me did not warn me enough about this.

“So, what the hell happened to him?” A part of him was curious. 

Her shoulders tensed as her hands tightened around the tablet. 

“An incident on Erebus while my team was assisting another team in the investigation of Eridian ruins. Some idiotic treasure hunters were also in the area and some eridium smugglers. A firefight broke out. Someone activated the Guardians to the place and some beasts of shadow poured out of every crack of that pitch-dark hell.” Her voice trembled for a second. “I think that area may have held a Vault with how ferocious those things were. It was a bloodbath.” A minor sigh slipped out before she could catch it; her shoulders dropped too.  She closed her eyes before forcing a smile as she opened them again. “But I’m sure you don’t want to hear all the trivial details of that minor inci—”

“Actually, I do.” He said. There was no hint of sarcasm in his voice. He faintly recalled the planet and reports from a survey team that had been sending information on Sirens and Eridian interactions. “What happened? What were you searching for?”

“Eh…?” She was expecting him to be more dismissive or tell her to cut to the chase, but this was different. Just taking a quick look at him, she noticed an intensity in his eyes. He wanted details. Me and damn mouth… “Very well…”

Viktoria explained a little more about the incident, but it was all too obvious she did not like talking about that day. Her line of work for researching Eridian tech was always dangerous, but this was something else. That planet was just another piece of the puzzle in finding ways to more safely manipulate eridium and learn how the Eridians created their bio-mechanical constructs. Anything that dealt with Sirens she wasn’t too privy to, as the other research party kept that information to themselves. 

When it came time to explain how Geise was torn apart, her memory was fuzzy as she blacked out at some point due to her ailing health being strained by the stress of the situation. More or less, Geise had intercepted one of the shadow creatures gunning for her as she had snatched an artifact as they were escaping and angered the horde. The creatures swiftly swarmed him. However, he used this to his advantage to lead them away from Viktoria and the others and deeper into the ruins. 

Shortly after escaping, she blacked out and was unconscious for several days. When she came to, the others had gone back once things had calmed down and found Geise’s remains. The shocker was he was somehow still alive.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Jack raised his hands, “so you’re telling me that he was alive for days after being turned into mincemeat?”

“Yep.”

“There is no freakn’ way that’s possible!” Though he had seen many impossibilities.

“I can only theorize a mix of his cybernetics, the sheer spite ol’ shaved sides could radiate, and whatever was in those ruins kept him alive.”

“And then you decided to waste a bunch of time and resources putting him back together when you could have bought another bodyguard?” He made a dismissive hand gesture as his tone began to shift into a slightly mocking tone. “What? Couldn’t let the old dog die? Or were you guys lovers or something?”

A few of the workers snickered at the comments he made.

There it is. Viktoria wasn’t sure if she should feel some sense of relief hearing that tone. “Yes, and no. He was a loyal bodyguard and close friend.” She nearly bristled at the lover’s jab. 

Why do people always say that? Faint cracking sounds could be heard as hands shifted the tablet about. She shot a harsh glare towards some of her workers, who only snickered more. If I had a death wish, I would take his head off. 

Taking a moment to calm her nerves, she spoke. “Geise volunteered for the risky operations.”

“What?” Jack raised a finger to his ear and twirled it around in the canal a few times before removing it and flicking any wax at her. “What?” He repeated himself and she said the exact same thing again. He wasn’t hearing things. “Volun-fuckin’-teered!?” 

“Better to be used to test that major theory of mine than to let his body go to waste.” She explained. “To think that planet was the final piece of the puzzle.”

There was a brief pause before he started laughing. Several thuds echoed in the room as he banged his fist against the table. “Ha! Haaaa! That’s fucking insane!” Tears were nearly coming out of his eyes with how hard he was laughing.

It took him a few moments to recompose himself, even more so when he broke into a hacking fit and coughed up some purple glowing sludge. He tried his best to ignore it. A cleaner bot quickly took care of that hazard.

“And what was that theory?” Jack asked, rubbing his chest.

Viktoria gestured to herself. “You’re looking right at it. Well, one of them.”

His brows knitted together as he was puzzled by her statement. He looked her up and down before those gears finally clicked. 

“Your robot body?” As she was about to answer, he raised a finger. “And what the hell is with the robot get-up, anyway?”

“It was a solution to a lifelong ailment of mine that would have killed me some time ago.” A huffed sigh slipped out as thoughts of how her health dropped severely once she became “employed” with Hyperion. She mumbled under her breath how she wished Gemini Helix would have headhunted her better but felt like she would have roughly been in the same position with her health. And then she heard some rumors that the biomedical company was dabbling with Vault explorations. I would most likely be sent on similar expeditions like I’ve been doing for the past handful of years. Though maybe with better healthcare.

She typed away on the tablet and pulled up some images of dead Eridian constructs and recovered weaponry that had been dissected. “I’ve been fascinated with Eridian bio-mechanical technology for a long time. Dissecting their constructs and weaponry gave me some clues on how to replicate some aspects and put them to use.”

She kept her explanations brief on her fascination that slowly became more of an obsession as the years ticked by; she avoided most scientific terms, as she felt that would go over Jack’s head. Overall, the process was painstaking as she with through many trials and self-experimentations to keep herself going and aid in further explorations into Eridian ruins.

It eventually paid off after studying some of the more intelligent Guardians as they died. How a reddish energy would evacuate the body upon death and would either wander away or immediately plant itself into another viable construct body to return to battle. 

How she obsessed over that. Was it their soul? Or some equivalent? How to replicate it? How to transfer oneself into a more adequate body? With Geise’s near sacrifice and a great deal of experimentation, she finally figured out something. 

“It’s far from a perfect copy of whatever the Guardians do. But marrying the Digistruct system with more Eridian tech, cybernetics, and genetic manipulation got me somewhere close enough to where about 80% of my bodies are in a ‘usable’ state.” Her electronic eyes sparkled with energy. 

“And of course, eridium. Can’t forget that golden poison.” She laughed. One that sounded like she was hiding some pain. “Though I still need to work on the neuro-electricity build-up and another feedback issue keeping things from being truly long-lasting, but let me stop now before I start babbling in some jargon you would barely be able to follow.”

Jack listened intently. He was fascinated by what she had to tell. Sounded like she may have found that fabled key to immortality. Something more tangible than what that incompetent, obsessive professor was working on. Naka-whatever… We only got as far as making a digital copy of me, a poor one at that at the time. But this… this sounds more like the real deal. Thinking about that… where is that digital copy?

As his mind was going to wander back to the AI clone, his mind snapped back to what Viktoria had told him. The brief mentions of all the experiments to achieve a more stable body. The work done on Geise and his current look. She had yet to show any evidence of her self-experimentation over the years. Would her ‘help’ make him look like her bodyguard or have him shoved into some robot body like her? 

“Hold, hold, hold on.” Jack raised his hands. The room went silent. “Whatever the slagging hell you’re gonna do to me is not gonna turn me into a walking hideous monstrosity like the big guy,” he threw a thumb towards the viewing window, “or some robot like you, is it?” He then pointed at her.

Viktoria raised a hand to cover her ever-twitching mouth. Was waiting for that. “No,” a snort slipped free, “you’d kill me for ruining your luscious looks and body.” She knew that danger all too well and wouldn’t even try without explicit permission from him. And even then, she would be hesitant to modify his body to that extent. She then gestured to her head with her thumb. “And I still have my ‘ganic brain in here. Just the body is a ‘robot’.”

“Hm. Hm.” Jack nodded. His chest puffed up with pride at hearing the compliments. “Heh, heh… you’re a smart cookie. I like you.”

“Buuuuut…” There was something she had to bring up. “While we are on that subject, I want to talk about your spine.” Her fingers were already working to bring up the medical information and images. 

“What about it?”

Several images appeared before them. All of them were detailed images of his spine at various angles. The foundation work the surgeons had done to realign, strengthen, and stabilize it. There were still some collapsed disks and a few vertebrae were crushed. And just about every last one of them was riddled with fractures ranging from hairlines to sizable cracks. 

“Your spine is quite the conundrum, like the rest of you.” Viktoria gestured to each image. “No offense, Mr. Jack, you shouldn’t be—”

“Alive? Yes, I know dear-y. Heard y’all mention it a zillion times by now.” Jack rolled his eyes.

Tightening her fingers, she held herself back from rolling her eyes. 

“I know you’ve heard that many times over. What I was going to say is moving.” She pointed and gestured at each image. “As you can see, you have several still cracked vertebrae, and some are crushed along with some discs.” 

Then she pointed to one image and tapped at the base of his neck, which highlighted a vertebra that had a massive crack running through it. The discs above and below it were crushed “T1. You should be paralyzed neck down as well as some additional issues with the state these vertebrae are in, but you are not.” 

Jack looked at where she was pointing. Even though his medical knowledge was scant, what was in the X-rays didn’t look too good. 

Subconsciously, a hand went to the back of his neck and began to rub the area. There wasn’t any pain there. He wasn’t really feeling any pain in his spine to think of it. Well, the pain was an off-and-on thing all over this body, especially when those eridium levels would spike.

He listened to the doctor’s words. So far she had been truthful, didn’t hide any of the unpleasant bits or sugarcoat them too much to stay on his good side. Honesty. He liked that. “So, how am I still walkin’? And talkin’?

“That… I am not entirely sure of, but,” pausing, she raised a finger, “it is most likely related to the eridium coursing through your veins. We have noticed some minor repairs whenever you have those ‘venting’ moments. Yet, that has equally caused some more damage, as those are uncontrolled energy spikes.”

Jack raised his brow. It all sounded so far-fetched as his mind remembered reports of the eridium tests at the one facility down on Pandora. But… 

His eyes drifted down. A hand pulled his medical gown open just enough for him to see one of the ports embedded into his side. Purple residue discolored the metal with a faint glow. And more concerning, in the surrounding skin were faint patches of purple spider-like veins.

This all feels like a dream. A really fucked up dream… but it’s freakn’ real, huh? 

His mind still wanted to deny the truth before him. The eridium treatments that were stabilizing his body so far. It just felt so… impossible despite what he had witnessed on his mad campaign to cleanse Pandora. 

Eridium… killing and healing me… Like a… Siren… Lilith…

For a moment, his mind thought of the eridium he pumped through Lilith to finish charging the Vault key. He reveled in stabbing and shooting her repeatedly as that alien ore mingled with her Siren powers, causing all wounds to heal nearly instantaneously. It was all intoxicating and fascinating how ore worked with her Siren biology. It made her the perfect little torture toy. She deserved every second of it. I will do it again.

As the slightest smirk graced his face, it fell away as his face sudden grew dark. His breathing became shaky.

Was this what you felt for years, my Angel?

She never showed any signs of pain as he made — tasked her with charging the Vault key. Did she experience pain? If so, did he ignore it? 

Chest tightening, his breathing hitched as the outside world faded into the background. He raised trembling hands to his face to cover his eyes that were closed, clinched tight like a vise. 

Did I? Did I? Did I? Her screams when those couplings were destroyed… Her screams.

Those would forever etched in his mind, unable to be overwritten. Every moment of that specially crafted bunker being violated by those Vault Hunters would always play in the back of his mind. He shouldn’t have treated them so lightly.

They didn’t have to kill her. She was just a little girl. A girl, for fuck’s sake!

How could they? And they call themselves “heroes”. They were child murderers. Psychos! It made him want to laugh. Only a choked wheeze slipped out.

Her... little… moments of defiance…. I should have— No, no, no, no… She was just scared… A little frightened. Yeah, that’s it. Just a little confused and frightened.

His little girl would never betray him willingly. Would she? But his mind couldn’t help but remember her little infractions here and there that allowed those Vault Hunters and their allies to get much further than they ever had before. Without her… without her… they would never have….

Focus, Jack! REFOCUS!

His nails dug deep into his forehead. He slowly dragged them down, tearing the top layers of the skin off and drawing some blood.

She would NEVER betray her father.

Denial. A sweet little lie to keep that picture-perfect version of his daughter intact in his mind.

The world came back into focus, one shaky breath at a time. His eyes fluttered open to take in the world once more.

Viktoria was up on her feet, pacing around with several small Surveyor bots hovering alongside her, that were projecting images of his spine. She seemed oblivious to his near spiral; still going on about his spine and how she wanted to augment it. 

The holographic projections caught his eye. Every so often, another projection would manifest over the spine in a swarm of pixels. As it formed itself, various little wires, tubes, and other bits would build around and into it. Some looked to be exoskeletons and others looked to be partial to full spine replacements.

At least it won’t be as “industrial” as Wilhelm’s. Poor bastard of a murder machine, I miss you. But still needs my touch. Think I still have some plans I thought I would have to implement for… her.

Just as he was focusing back in on what the eccentric doctor was saying so he could butt in, he heard murmurs from her cohorts. Looked like they had noticed his small break from reality as his vitals had risen.

Shit. No. Don’t let them see that weakness. Take control.

Jack loudly cleared his throat. That barely made Viktoria stop yapping, but she cocked a glance towards him.

“Blah, blah, blah.” He waved his hand around. The doctor rolled her eyes. “You yap too much, doc. So a spine reinforcement and spiffy upgrade will help fix me? Cool.”

Her brow twitched. “It may be an outright full spinal replacement as well as cerebral cortex impla—”

“Ap! Ap! Ap!” He raised a finger. “Too. Much. Talking.” A grin crept across his face as he watched the irritation grow in her eyes. “Less talking, more action!” He then pointed at one of her cohorts. “One of you get me, I don’t know, some freakn’ paper and a pen or a tablet I can draw on.” He then pointed at another. “You go get Jimmy and tell him to get Chief Data Engineer Brie if that cheese-head hasn’t fried his brain on those EchoNet dives .” 

The activity in the room came to a screeching halt, with Jack’s sudden change in demeanor. Someone questioned the name “Brie” being unfamiliar with the name, and nothing showed in the database, only to be hushed and given the correct name “Bryce.”

They looked at Viktoria for what they should do. Were they hearing things?

The lack of response made Jack bristle. A faint growl of frustration slipped out. Was he losing his touch?

“Come on!” He clapped his hands. “Chop! Chop!” His eyes then narrowed and his voice dropped. “Remember, your heads are still on the block.”

Viktoria just nodded, eyes flashing a few colors. Her workers got moving.

“And you!” Jack’s voice picked up with a hint of glee. He was pointing at her now. “Show me all the schematics, all the variations for this spinal augment. I have to put my touch to it.”

Raising a hand to her face, Viktoria sightly cursed, slipping off into a mix of languages so he couldn’t hear him. Just what had kicked his butt into gear and into that more unsightly side of him? Best not to keep him waiting, as she could see that sadistic side of him was just below that craggy surface, ready to burst through and renew itself.

“Right.” That hand slipped away as she put on a smile. “Where are my manners?” 

Just as one of her workers came back with a tablet for Jack, she snatched it. Producing a chip from one of the ports on her body, she put it into the tablet before configuring some things. With that done, she passed it off to him.

Jack happily took it and began parsing through all the information. There was a lot to go through, a lot of study, a lot to play with and tweak to fit him. He was going to be busy for the rest of the day and maybe a few more.

“Now, what was that about a cerebral whatever implant?” He came across that implant and the diagrams. That interested him. But he was also hesitant. 

The diagrams didn’t hide it. If this was done in combination with some of the spinal augments, it looked like it would stand out, being readily apparent on the back of his head. His mind drifted to his daughter and the “cranial dual—feed inputs” implanted into the right side of her skull. Like her, a good chunk of his luscious hair would have to be shaved in addition to sacrificing a chunk of the back of his skull to have it installed. 

Wait… didn’t someone mention there was a hole in the back of my head?

A troubling thought crossed his mind. He wasn’t sure if the person was joking, as he was faintly aware of the hole in the center of his head that was mostly healed. It left an unsightly scar. And all too aware that his mask was missing with how often he clawed at his face and felt that old scar. But he would forgive their unknown transgressions of viewing his face… for now. Nothing some mind-altering nanobots and drugs couldn’t fix with a touch of blackmail once he got a new mask.

“Somebody… get me a mirror. No. MIRRORS.” His voice teetered between a faint whisper and controlled yelling. “No! Better yet, rig up a video feed with those bots. NOW!”

Viktoria’s workers were hesitant again. This was something everyone had been waiting for. Dreading it. It was a surprise he never flipped out about everyone seeing him without his mask and that scar.

Viktoria was mostly unfazed. She shooed her workers away. With a few thoughts, she sent commands to the Surveyor bots. The holograms of the spine augments disappeared. They shifted their lens’ towards Jack and soon hovered around him.

With another thought, windows appeared on the tablet in Jack’s hand. 

He had a 360° view of his head.

There were no sounds but the hums of medical equipment and machinery as Jack studied himself. A shaky hand went to the back of his head. Fingers spread out to feel all that was different. And find was missing. 

A warm metallic sensation greeted his fingers. His fingers spread out to get a better grasp of how large the damage was. As they traveled closer to the edges, he flinched. It was the all too familiar sensation of raw skin. But his fingers continued to work, carefully tracing the edges between the metal plate, skin, and singed hair.

The area felt as big as a baseball. He clenched his teeth. No sounds slipped out.

That hand slowly shifted to the front, towards his face. His face. How he hadn’t seen that beautiful face in so long. Once beautiful, once handsome. He quietly lamented in his mind. A finger went to the center of his head. That singular entry wound that sprawled out greater than it should have. A red stained scar on his forehead. Was that inflicted before or after Lilith overloaded him with her Siren powers? Didn’t matter, it was there and so apparent. He would have to redesign his mask to cover this and the other scars.

Then those fingers started tracing that Vault symbol of a scar on his face. It felt larger than before. Like there were more cracks along its edges. Was it always purple? Memories are still fuzzy, but it doesn’t matter. That bitch did this to me. 

An all too familiar anger boiled in his chest. A deep, unbridled anger that wanted to lash out at the nearest meat bag. He bit his tongue and fixed a vise grip on that tablet, nearly shattering the screen.

Save it for them. Save it for her.

It took a few deep breaths before he calmed himself. He then looked at the doctor. His tongue pressed behind clenched teeth.

“So… about that cerebral. Cortex. Implant…”

——————— 

Jack spent every precious conscious moment working on putting his touch on the potential spine implant. Which was becoming more of a possibility whenever he would have an “episode” and additional damage was done to his spine. The current eridium transfusions kept him fairly stable but would either result in him blacking out for random lengths of time or being high as a kite. Mr. Blake took advantage of the latter to begin his work on “fixing” some contracts.

Jack was hesitant to tweak the designs for the cerebral cortex implant. His daughter clung close to his mind. Though the design was vastly different than hers, just seeing the mockup x-rays of how it would look and some additional “control node” implants made his heartache.

It was for the best. Had to control those unruly powers of hers so she wouldn’t kill dear ol’ dad like her…  And we could put them to better use!

Dr. Viktoria’s incessant pestering shifted that loadstone of sorrow in his brain to finally selecting a design for the head implant. She tentatively promised that the port could be hidden and still have his gorgeous hair — which she repeated quite a bit — as well as it would further assist them in monitoring his health. And there was a chance they could hook him up to Hyperion’s systems so he could access and control the company tech with his mind.

Hearing the last part made him hesitate. Angel came to his mind again. Would he be tethered to one place for the rest of his life like her?

No, that was just temporary, Jackey boy. Just needed that Vault Key charged. Open the Vault. Boom bam! Pandora is cleansed and safer for the more civilized to take over. Safer for my Angel. We… we just needed to… to fix that one teeny tiny problem. It was just temporary.

The thoughts of his daughter didn’t leave his mind as easily as the first time. 

Jack just kept his focus on the spine implant and applied tweaks here and there to the cerebral cortex. He somewhat foisted it off to Chief Data Engineer Bryce since the man had a similar implant of his own and would probably know what was best. He just wanted to play that one by ear. Hopefully, the spine, new ports, and whatever else the doctor was cooking up would do the trick.

Eventually, the time came to replace the ports on his body. 

——————— 

“Ah…. AaaAAah… AAaaah!”

A long, raspy gasp was dragged out of Jack’s lungs.

“Hold still, sir.” The voice was clinical, nearly as cold and sterile as the operating room they were in.

Heck, heck, heck, heck, hell, hell, hell, hell, HELL, HELL, HELL!

Jack’s mouth flapped loosely. Nothing came out but drops of saliva. Those were the only words repeating within his mind as he shakily tried to regain control of his body. Regain control of his dignity.  

But then came another prick. One located just around the upper left part of his chest, his pec, just below the collarbone. Then the other sensations started again.

Heck, heck, heck. No, no, no, no, no!

He could feel it. A feeling he couldn’t prepare himself for, no matter how many times it had occurred by now.

It started as a faint tingle that crept across his skin like a lattice before it dug deeper into the layers below. With each passing second, a spiderweb-like network intermingled and bit into each layer. Epidermis. Dermis. Subcutaneous tissue. Muscle. And once it reached the bone, the sensation exploded across his nervous system. It was like thousands of burning, ice-cold needles were stabbing him all at once. And then that faint ringing in his ear increased.

Another choked gasp came from him before he slammed his jaw shut and chomped on his tongue. He drew blood.

She wasn’t lying! The doc wasn’t fuckin’ lying!

He wished he were unconscious or outright dead. That sweet dream eluded him.

The sensation lasted for a long time before it finally released him. As soon as the doctors’ hands pulled away from him, he just collapsed. His back hit the cold surgical table with a hard thud before he curled onto himself. All composure left him. 

Eyes closed tight, he panted like an overheated dog to force away the biting remnants of the latest insertion. He tapped the back of his head against the table to make the ear churning ringing stop. It barely died down.

Hesitantly, he raised a hand to the area. He swallowed a faint gasp as his finger barely brushed against the skin around the latest port. It felt raw. The nerves were sparking like a loose live wire. Too much activity. Too sensitive.

“Do you need a break, Mr. Jack?” That same cold, clinical voice spoke again.

Break? Break? Part of his mind was tempted to accept the offer. But the other half wanted things to be over it.

“A f-f-feeeew… a few s-s-sssec-c-c-conds…” The shakiness in his voice caught him by surprise. He bit his lip. Get it together. 

He raised his hand to his neck and started to rub it before he found himself biting his tongue, drawing more blood. Damn ports on my neck. Two ports sat on either side of his jugular. They were one of the first ones changed out to get the “worst of the screaming” out of the way.

“G-g-g-ive…” He paused. Shaking his head, he cleared his throat. “Give me a few… fucking seconds!” Better.

“Acknowledged.” The surgeon answered before giving instructions to have the last batch of ports prepared. 

How many more do they have to do? Jack was beating himself up for not listening to Viktoria and the others about the finer details of this surgery. It had taken about 4 hours to work on his neck and lower half. He had blacked out about seven times and vomited many times more. All of that paused the work. He even kicked the surgeon, or some unlucky assistant, in the face as they worked on his legs. They nearly had to restrain him with energy cuffs off and on.

His eyes drifted over to a clock. A timer kept track of how this section of the surgery was going. About six and a half hours in.

Heck… This is taking too long. At least that ringing has stopped. Better than the whispers. Damn alien whispers. He only had himself to blame, thinking this would be quick, like snapping his fingers. His mind just refused to accept how poorly his body was doing and why all this was necessary. 

Eyes drifting back down to his chest, he eyed the other pectoral muscle. A hastily inserted port surrounded by scar tissue, leaking purple flowing fluid. An old one that needed to be changed.

His body shuddered and a “brr” slipped from his lips as a cold spell struck him. Frigid room… What’s my body temp right now? He rubbed his arms to get some warmth, only to be reminded of several cool, metallic sensations. There were a few ports there that also needed to be changed out.

One, two… four, five… seven, eight… Freakn’ great. He wondered who was going to get punched when they worked on his arms. Maybe he’d crack a face plate? 

Maybe are face or two. It’ll help calm me down as they finish up my upper half. He snorted.

As swiftly as the amusing thought came, it swiftly left, as dread swept over him. Upper half… That wasn’t entirely right. Hell! They still need to work on my back.

His entire being shuttered as his mind raced. He faintly recalled Viktoria saying the work on his spine would be a hundred times worse than all the other replacements. That couldn’t be true, right? She was joking, right? 

The faintest tingle of a cold, burning pain danced up and down his neck. He felt his stomach twist and churn. With a hard, stutteringly slow swallow, his eyes closed tight. 

Neck close to the spine… Remember, handsome, you blacked out when they were working on your neck. Four times!

He wasn’t looking forward to another hell.

Thinking of the zappy doctor…

Jack took a deep breath to steady himself as he lifted himself back up. “Where’s Doc Vicky?”

“Finalizing the details on the spinal augments.” The surgeon answered. 

“And she’s doing that whyyyy?” A faint sneer slipped out.

“In her words, ‘everything has to be just right for our dear ol’ boss or else the feedback will fry his system to a point he will be deader than dead. Or spring up as an eridian zombie, which will not be good.’”

Jack’s brow twitched. “Gotcha.”

“I do have some good news. She is nearly done. Possibly by the time we are done, she will be here to work on your spine.”

“And how long will this,” he gestured to himself, “take?”

“As long as your systems stay level, you don’t black out, and —” They paused. No need to bring up how he kicked two of their assistants. “Pretty much, give or take four hours.”

Jack took in a sharp breath, puffing up his cheeks, before letting it out real slow. “Peachy.”

Just as the conversation came to an end and Jack was preparing himself for his next round of torture, he heard something that made his heart stutter.

“The eridium levels are dropping.” Someone whispered. “Some of his vitals are beginning to shift in response.”

“Hm. Watch it and prepare an injection. If it goes below the second threshold or his vitals become erratic, we’ll give him a fresh dose.”

Jack cursed in his mind. Again. What shot was that now? Four? Five? Twelve? He lost count, especially after the latest blackout. He didn’t want another dose, even if it was necessary to keep him stable and awake. Those fresh doses sure did perk him up. They wired him up like a triple shot of nitro espresso. Sometimes, it even knocked away the pain. But at the same time, everything felt so wrong. 

That ringing in his ears would be replaced by whispers. He didn’t know what was being said, but it sounded alien. Eridian. Especially if the dose wasn’t enough. And then there was always the chance he would crash. Those were the worst. It would be so subtle that the doctors wouldn’t catch it until his body heat was increasing, and the tremors affected his whole body.

“Ready to continue, boss?” 

That clinical voice of the surgeon pulled him from his thoughts. He noticed the scalpel in their hands and the tray hovering nearby, holding the next port.

He forced a smile. “Get on with it.”

——————— 

The next set of hours were pure agony for Jack. 

His mind and body could never get used to the sensation of a new port being set. And he thought that was the worst it could get until they touched his back. Oh, his back.

His shrieks, howls of pain, and thrashing could not compare to the first few hours when they worked on his neck and legs. At some point, they had to  restrain him after he cracked two faceplates of some assistants, forcing them out of the room. Those energy-based restraints were a lifesaver. 

As the agonizing surgery came to an end, Jack was barely conscious. His eyes were glazed over. His pupils were mere pinpricks as his mouth hung open loosely. Saliva dribbled.

With him lying on his side, they had connected an array of tubes and cables to the ports on his back. There was a faint hum and sloshing as the nearby machinery connected to the tubing worked away to supply his body with needed fluids and nanomachines. 

“It’s been 30 minutes. That should have given the nanomachines a head start to finalize the connections. Start the Eridium transfusion. Record his reaction.” The surgeon said. At the moment, they were taking notes of the tissue clinging onto the old ports and taking samples.

With the go-ahead, one assistant activated the Surveyors with the cameras. An array of them circled Jack. Another assistant retrieved a container from a security box. A visibility window on the side showed the refined poison contained within. They hooked it into the machine. 

There was a rough brr and some clicking before it began to cycle to fluid. That glowing, purple liquid ore slowly crept down the tubing, inch by inch, until it finally hit Jack’s body.

Around the ports, purple veins began to spread out like a spider’s web. The veins continued to spread and glow with each passing second.

One minute. Two. Four. Seven. Twelve. Seventeen. Jack’s pupils dilated. A wracked gasp came from him as his whole body shuddered. This repeated a few times until his breathing was more stable but faintly stilted.

A weak “argh” followed by a long, drawn-out groan slipped out as he pulled his knees to his chest. His nails dug at the ports at his sides. He was shaking like a leaf in the wind.

“At least he didn’t vomit this time.” One assistant commented. “Levels are elevated, but stable.”

Mind rolling back to full consciousness, Jack wasn’t paying attention to them or whatever conversation was going on about his reaction to the eridium. Pain was hogging most of his attention. The current infusion was taking some of it off, but the wrongness to the eridium was slowly kicking in.

He was hearing something again. Eridian whispers, picking at the information that he received from that Vault on Elpis. So much information concerning the Eridians, the Vaults, and the weapons they built. The whispers were pulling forth those visions he saw. That glory that was ripped away from him by those Vault Hunters.

Curious. You’re alive once more. The voice was female with a wispy echo to it. The Seer’s predictions are off. Ah, Sirens and their powers. Chaos incarnate.

Jack’s eyes jumped around. Who? What? He saw nothing. Nothing but the workers observing and taking notes, and some Surveyor drones hovering around, recording all the details.

Has death taught you a lesson? Yes? No? Let it be the former rather than the latter or else you are destined to make the same mistakes.

“W-w-who’s there? Who’s talking?” He croaked, the words barely left his mouth.

Everyone in the room didn’t react to his question. It wasn’t the first time he babbled nonsense.

You may have a chance to set right what once went wrong. Your actions and, in turn, the Vault Hunters’ retaliations have set in motion The Beginnings of Many Ends. The voice paused before a static-like chortle followed. Time will only tell which one will reign supreme. 

“Who the fuck is talking?” Jack demanded. That slow fury was building in him.

That made everyone in the room quiet down. Maybe he was more lucid than they thought.

“What are his levels?” The surgeon asked. They were stable for a moment before they suddenly started to tank.

Ah, the Eridium energy wains. The connection fades. Yet, we look forward to what that doctor will do next. Till that time. Learn from your suffering.

The intruding voice faded from his mind. In turn, all the odd sensations from the eridium transfusion began to fade. As they dropped, Jack’s body began to shake violently.

“Fuckn’ hell…” His whole body felt flushed with heat. His digits twitched. His stomach churned. Heat and cold flashed through his bones. A heat was building up in his lungs. He knew what was coming. “Not…tt-ttt-ttt…. a..ag-g-g…gain…” His eyes began to roll into the back of his head.

Sensors went off, warning all to get back.

First he began to thrash. The restrains barely kept him on the table. Next, he started to choke before the frothing began. A noxious combination of eridium-tainted stomach fluids spewed forth and all over the floor. Then he screamed. An intoxicating, dark purple miasma soon erupted from his mouth, choking out the scream. 

As quickly as it all began, it stopped. His mouth hung open as a death rattle came in and out of his ravaged lungs. His eyes were mere pinpricks. The world was spinning, blurring all into an indecipherable blob. Everything was muffled, but he could tell something wasn’t right. 

“Vitals dropping again.” Someone said.

“Dose him again. Twice the last amount.” The surgeon said.

Even he had his faculties, he would be yelling at them to not to do that. Only a pitiful wheeze could come out. He couldn’t feel his limbs. All was static. All he could do was lie there like a dying mutt and brace himself for the cycle to repeat.

There was a harsh brr as that machine kicked into overdrive once fresh eridium canisters were placed into it. That purple gold of a poison surged through those tubes.

Jack let out a pitiful cry of pain as it felt like someone shoved several icicles in his back. He felt all the other sensations come back tenfold, ripping through his body again. The cycle repeated.

As it came to an end, this time, to his relief, he blacked out.

[luckytohavebucky]

Why Bucky Wasn't Brainwashed (or corrupted)

Nearly every article that comments about Bucky's time imprisoned by Hydra and what was carried out by the Winter Soldier presumes that Bucky somehow agreed to what was happening on some level, and during The Falcon and the Winter Soldier we see that even Bucky thinks he's on par with the likes of Flag Smasher and U.S. Agent, but nothing could be further from the truth, and I'm about to explain why:

Point 1: Bucky was programmed.

To clarify, brainwashing is when a person is led to believe something bad is good or that something they disagreed with (or otherwise would have if they had not been raised to think differently) is something they agree to, so it doesn't apply to when someone is forced to do the bidding of others through whatever means; they have to, to a degree anyway, actually want to be doing those things, and it's implied that the other test subjects from Siberia as shown during Captain America Civil War at least partially agreed to take the serum and were willingly working for Hydra along with the Russian government, but the opposite is true for Bucky; he was so against what was happening that after attempts to convince him being an assassin for a nefarious terrorist organisation was a good thing failed, they resorted to manipulating Bucky's brain in a way that would lead to his being literally controlled after hearing a set of trigger words, so obviously Bucky wasn't in any way responsible for what was happening, but of course it didn't stop there.

Point 2: Bucky's memories were manipulated.

Not only was Bucky forced to do Hydra's bidding completely against his will, but it was ensured Bucky wouldn't be able to fully understand or stop what was happening to him due to the numerous so-called memory wipes Bucky was subjected to, for the point wasn't to make Bucky forget everything, just his past as, well, Bucky, and obviously it turns out during Captain America The Winter Soldier that they couldn't really take away Bucky's memory of Steve, but the fact Bucky continued to remember so vividly what the Winter Soldier did as though he was privy to that shows the depths of what it took to continue to use Bucky; it wasn't enough to command those actions, instead Bucky had to keep his Winter Soldier memories in the forefront, leading to Bucky questioning himself and struggling to find redemption.

Point 3: Bucky never gave up.

I know maybe it seems like Bucky was letting Hydra throw him around, boot him up, take away or change many of his memories, put him in cold storage, rinse, repeat as they say (whomever "they" are), but the fact is that entire time Bucky knew what was happening was wrong, even when he didn't remember his own name; Every time Bucky would go through this process there was a look of defiance to him right up to the inevitable at that time, and even as Bucky's mind was altered and his soul broken, even though he lost nearly everything, Bucky never really lost what makes him Bucky; this is no more evidenced than after Steve brought Bucky back during the iconic climax of Captain America The Winter Soldier, after which Bucky chose to save Steve instead of just walking away to let him drown, so Bucky's caring nature, loyalty and need to help instead of hurt immediately came back because that's Bucky, and the "misson" was completely like thrown aside in favour of Bucky helping his friend, even if at that point Bucky didn't completely realise that's what he was doing, and if Bucky had been corrupted, he would not have reverted so quickly to that place of wanting to help, showing that like I said, Bucky never really stopped being Bucky after all.

Conclusion:

Bucky has since been able to somewhat move past those days, and he's at least stated he "didn't have a choice", and while I'm not sure Bucky totally believes that, he's still been able to make a fair amount of progress trying to accept that he is a hero and was never truly a villain or even anti-hero; Bucky's struggles to come to terms with what happened and let himself fully acknowledge what was done to him while imprisoned by Hydra may be further addressed during the upcoming Thunderbolts*, but either way, Bucky's continuing drive to fight the good fight, defend and avenge the wronged and stick up for and protect the weak is proof enough of how also strong in heart and spirit Bucky is and has always been.

[drsoulblast-official]

The Third SoulBlast Newsletter is here!

What's new?

While the team's work on this so far isn't complete enough to be shown yet, Ciskar and Aurelia concept art is currently in the works, and we really hope that it'll be worth the wait when it eventually comes out!

Are the songs back yet?

As per usual, the SoulBlast composers continue to cook up new songs, this time composed by Nintenguy203! Just like before, it's only a teaser, so enjoy the current sample and the debatably-relevant placeholder name (as always chosen by @imaginary-regret-608 )!

"Also, this teaser is a heavy wip"!

Happy (Already Happened) Birthday, Terra!

For those who didn't know, May 17th was Terra's birthday! To celebrate, a "competition" was held where fakentgamer was revealed as the "winner" (although seriously, everything submitted was appreciated just as much as the next and everybody who was able to send one rocks). Here were all the submissions we had

(Created by Epityep, JJDude, Alternimo, Imaginary-Regret-608 and fakentgamer, along with a Discord Nitro by Darkduckpl(second account) and a short jingle made by Nintenguy which can be heard here

Well? It was TERRA'S birthday, so how's he been?

Due to exams and such, I really haven’t got much done. Alter was on a school trip and I had birthday activities to do. We’ve gotten more progress than I expected done in these 2 weeks, and once exams end, everything should be back to normal if not better. Sorry that I don’t have much to say, but I wasn’t really able to get anything done myself these 2 weeks.

Remember the Cosmic Starplaza?

Although an entire segment dedicated to one area may seem unnecessary to some, we wanted to draw attention to it this time because of a change that was made aware to us by Terra. The Cosmic Starplaza is maybe subject to being repurposed, but what comes of this and when more is able to be said about it is still unknown as of now.

That's all!

Go check out our stuff below! The next newsletter will be posted in 2 weeks (since it’s biweekly)

YouTube: https://youtube.com/@soulblastau5574?si=fuh6MJy1Hgd4FVaT

SoundCloud: https://on.soundcloud.com/UVadRL6CSVdqxkRv9

Discord: https://discord.gg/3bAtNkxH2P

[sinfullyxpride]

"You're right. She would have come to the same conclusion with or without me, but that doesn't change how it really happened." Pride fully admitted, knowing he would drive himself insane pondering the what ifs when he still played the part of catalyst regardless of the decisions Pandora made to avenge her daughter's death. Had the scales tipped a different direction and the brothers remained in Hell, the prince gathered a continuation of the abuse cycle would have been their fate instead, so perhaps a banishment worked well in their favor. There would be no Isabel, no Gianna, no other queen's existence if they weren't on the mortal realm altering the lives of anyone the demons came into contact with. "how sick in the head am I there's a part of me waiting for his gratitude still? I know it is not coming nor will it ever. He has destroyed all chances of us ever returning to his side now that freedom offered our brothers happiness." Pride knew better than fully questioning Wrath about Celeste's circumstances, what none of them saw, but everything his brother did spending more than a few gaze-avoiding minutes with her. A sensitive subject he no longer wished to breach even though the ghost of her absence became the sole reason the King's days were numbered at the hands of the most misunderstood sibling. "But you don't fully trust me." The male stated with bluntness, seeing what Wrath was not admitting. "I believe you. Us or him. I just need a few days to gather my thoughts and face this without the noise. And I know," Pride released a breath slowly, "I know we don't have that kind of time, I'm leaving myself vulnerable to his advances if I do not rest."

"You can blame yourself all you want, but you also need to come to the realization that Pandora would have found a way to get back at him at some point. She wouldn't have just let Celeste's death go. She could have killed us without batting an eye but she didn't." Wrath had years upon years to think of all the different outcomes that could have come from the death of Celeste, having half a mind to track Nikolai down himself just to get answers but it was fruitless. Celeste was dead and Pandora would have exacted her revenge somehow. Perhaps this was the better option– in torturing their King with stripping the Princes of their powers and home, she saved the brothers. It wasn't something he voiced, not wanting to sound overly optimistic about something that was so detrimental to them. "Of course you did, Pride, and no one blames you from being so stuck in your nature. There is no making him proud, ever– it was always what he wanted. Giving all of us breadcrumbs, just enough to keep us complacent." Wrath blinked, breaking his own gaze from his brother's at the mention of all the things that the King had put Celeste through. He didn't know the full extent, Celeste not wanting to mar their time together with what happened to her on the daily at the hands of their King, but it didn't take much to come to conclusions. Especially when he watched her waste away though he tried so hard to show her that there was something worth living for. "It's a necessity that won't come to happen now that you're on our side Pride," he lifted his gaze again, determination filling their depths, "I don't care how long it will take, Pride, but, despite what you think, the Firsts are on our side for this. Every being has a weakness and I will not stop until I find our King's and eliminate him myself. If we do not kill him then that is the end of us, we have everything to lose in this and it's worth every bit of our energy and defiance. It's us or him."

[growingdesires]

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Hungry - Chapter 2

Monday morning and it is miserable outside, here you sit, soggy from the walk to class at an empty chemistry bench. The seat beside you is usually occupied by Emily but with 2 minutes remaining it is still empty. “That is strange, she is never late”. You pull out your phone from your pocket and send a message to Emily Matt: Morning, where are you at Em? Emily: Running late! Should be about 15-20 minutes, long story, I’ll fill you in later You nobily inform Mr Fletcher that Emily is running late, he grumbles something about “Kids these days” as you retake your seat. After 15 minutes Emily enters the lab and apologizes to Mr Fletcher as she hurries to her seat next to you. “Everything ok?” you ask “Peachy… yeah, fine… not a good time” she says with almost a nervousness in her voice “Ok.... maybe later?” She nods “What did I miss?” she changes the subject You catch her up and continue the class as normal. You can’t help but notice she looks absolutely wiped out. Heavy bags sit under her eyes and she looks a bit pale. Finally the lesson ends and Mr Fletcher dismisses us. You grab your stuff and head out the door with her just behind you. You turn to meet her face when you feel a tug at your wrist, she is leading you out of the main campus building. “Where are we going?” you ask, she doesn’t respond. You decide to just go along for the journey. You arrive at her dorm and she quickly rushes you inside. The place is a lot messier than you remember from the party. “I’m sorry for being weird and the mess, I’ll explain everything, let me just get something” Before you can reply she rushes from the living room to the fridge and returns with a vial of a pink liquid. “This is why I was late to class. After I left your place yesterday I couldn’t get that asshole Brad out of my head. I wanted to show him who is a flat chested nerd” “Has she lost her mind?” you think “I can see that look in your eyes Matt, I’m sane I promise. My passion project has been to create a chemical or potion if you will that can help alter people’s appearances” You look at her like she has just told you Santa isn’t real “It’s not as insane as *Poof* I’m now a model, it alters your metabolism and redirects fat around your body. In future I hope it can alter DNA and maybe allow it to change more than just where fat is stored” “Surprisingly that scientific reasoning doesn’t make me think you sound any less insane” you chuckle, thankfully she smiles “I know it does sound crazy, I’ve been working on this for years. I have been so close for a few months to finishing it but yesterday I threw myself into the work as I wanted the distraction and I started having some breakthroughs and then without realising it was morning and I saw your text and here it is” she holds the vial high triumphantly “Wow. Em, that is super cool and it can be incredibly beneficial to the world. You could change so many people's lives and in a much less invasive way to surgery and I’m sure you can make some money off of it too” you exclaim “Yeah I guess… truth be told, I’m doing this for me right now” without any hesitation she downs the vial “EM!” you shout She lowers the vial from her lips and looks at you, your shocked face must’ve been quite the sight as she starts laughing “Hey? What's so funny?” you ask “You should see your face” she continues to chuckle “I mean you did just drink a potentially dangerous vial” “Give me some credit Matt, I’ve spent years on this” “Do you at least feel any different… or like how will you know if it worked” “I guess we need to just wait” she shrugs “could be a few hours, days or even weeks” “Quite anticlimactic I suppose. Why did you take them anyway?” “I am tired of being that “Flat chested nerd” I want to be sexy” She blushes “Move some fat around and suddenly I’ve got plump rear and more padding up top” she shakes her hips and chest. You watch her shake and imagine her changing. She notices your eyes becoming a bit blank. “Sorry Matt… a bit inappropriate but you must admit it would be nice. Anyway I’ve got to get some shut eye. Please keep this a secret and I’ll keep you updated on my progress” “Secret is safe with me. I do worry though Em, what if something bad happens?” “I’ll be fine, I’ll message you when I get up, how about that?” “Sounds good to me, I’ll get out of your hair, get some sleep”        

[unoisveimved-un-proffesional]

There really is no outrunning time.

You’ll be given 10 hours, and no matter how much you fit into those 10 hours, no matter how fast you go, no matter how far you run, until those 10 hours are up, you’ll have to keep going, and it’s only those 10 hours you’ll get. You could be the speed of sound, blitzing around every corner, but no matter how fast you go and how much you can do, time is still all the same.

I realize now in my age, that despite everything, all the hardships and shit I trudged through from my birth to now, I never lived longer than I actually did, lived more debatably, but life is only measured in time spent to people, time was all the same, unyielding as always. I thought I was aging quickly, I thought just because I was building things and working for start up companies as a teenager I was, anything to time? That I surpassed my own time? That I was bigger than the time given to me?

Anything can happen, everything will happen, and is going to happen, and there is nothing we can do to push against that, we are all a part of that. The world is chaotic, unpredictable, incalculable really, but time is always the same, never swayed, never changed, and never subject to alteration or reversal. You will never have more time or less time than you have now, time will forever just keep ticking up, and parts of the world will just disappear as it keeps ticking. Time isn’t coming for us, it’s leaving us in the dust from whence we came. Time will leave everything behind, and no matter how fast you are nor how much you can do, time will remain constant, time has the luxury of being existence. Weak Force, Strong Force, Gravity, Electromagnetism, The Dimensions zero to infinity, time exists and persists, not through tangible nature, but by being existence itself. Anything that can happen needs time to happen. It there is a before, an after, and a now, there is time. It is unavoidable, and constant. It is inbetween my cells and lives in my walls. I breathe it in, it pumps my heart, and it will remove the flesh from my bones. Time is not anything, it is only what is. There is no such thing as 5 seconds from now, until those 5 seconds are up. You meet time as it comes to you. It never exists until it forms in the moment, and then ceases to exist again, you meet it again, and again, and again, infinite rows of time since past. You can’t beat it. To beat time is to cease existing, and we usually call that being taken by time, swept away by the sands, so really, is peacing out from all that exists to get away from time really beating it, or just succumbing to its toll?

You never have the time, it’s not yours, it’s not mine, it’s not ours and it’s not the earth’s. Time is a constant shot upward, a shooting star we can only cling to for so long, and no matter how hard we cling, or how fast it moves, and what we see, it’s all the same amount of time. It’s not yours, it’s not mine, it doesn’t belong to any of us. It’s wind the seeps through from behind your back, through the cracks in your skin, and blows through out your body, passing through you like you weren’t even there, and leaving only you to feel and experience everything before it’s gone. The Winds Of Change. Time.

I’m still pretty young really, but I feel old, and naive, youthful and aging I am. I really thought I was special to time, by how not right it always was. Really, time is no different for me than anyone else. No matter how I feel, how I look, what I’ve seen or how smart or dumb I am, it’s always the same amount of time that we have, indifferent to us. f′(x)>0 is time, and the only guarantee is that we’ll watch it continue, and we won’t be around to see it end. No standing ovation, no walking out of the theater, just a fade to black as you disappear and have someone else take your seat, your time may be up, but time itself will go on and on, until, it won’t matter to you.

Yeah, no duh, but, I think I really understand what that means now. I let this idea, this information, blow through me like a breeze through cuts and holes in my skin, and more than I ever have before, really understand what that means now.

[veilder]

It's Tuesday again, my fine fellows, I am here to bring you yet another prompt! This one leans a bit more towards the angst/horror side of things so make sure to heed the warnings. This will involved some body horror and android gore, but ultimately has a happy ending. Lemme know what y'all think!

Prompt: Sixty hates that he looks like his big brother. The minor, cosmetic changes don't help, the completely different fashion choices are irrelevant, even physically altering his body with piercings hasn't stopped people from calling him "Connor." He thinks he'll just have to resign himself to a long life of being the inferior product, the "other Connor," the spare.

Until Nines lets slip a new, experimental procedure in the works at New Jericho. Malleable Faceplate Technology. The ability for androids to customize their own appearance to better suit how they feel and less how they were built. And this is everything Sixty has been hoping for, the chance to move himself away from Connor's large shadow and become someone entirely unique. He goes to New Jericho immediately and signs himself on as a test subject.

And when the clinical trials begin, he is excited. He sees an AX400 emerge from the operating room, square-jawed and copper-toned. He sees a male-bodied AP700 emerge with much daintier features and a smile on her lips. He sees a WR400 with horrific faceplate damage return looking like nothing had ever happened.

Soon, it is his turn and he jumps up excitedly. Finally, an identity of his own. Something to keep the humans from mistaking him for his predecessor. He enters the maintenance apparatus with alacrity...

...and emerges to a wall of red error screens.

He doesn't know what's happening, the messages flit through his HUD too fast to register. The scientists in charge are running around below him in a panic. Even Markus has been alerted and is now there in front of him, trying to say kind words, to keep him calm. He can feel his stress levels continue to climb, nonetheless.

Finally, someone decides the best course of action is to cut the power entirely and the errors finally stop as the machine holding him goes still. He is manually released from it and stumbles his way upright on shaky legs. He still has no idea what has happened. Until he catches a glimpse of himself in a mirror, that is.

His face... looks like it's been melted off. Rivulets of the Thirium and silicon-based skin mixture drip from his cheeks and leave him looking like a living nightmare. The white panels of his chassis underneath peek through in several places. He recoils, hiding his disfigured face away even as he demands answers.

His defense systems, they say. Too advanced, an RK prototype... not able to differentiate the new cosmetic code from a virus... irregularities in his system stability... unable to achieve homeostasis... three to four weeks before they can completely redesign and rebuild his cosmetic coding and replace his malfunctioning skin nodes.

He listens to it all in numb silence. This... He wanted to be different... but not like this. Not like this. He can't even find it in himself to let his family know. They had no idea he’d even come here, that he would take such drastic measures to escape Connor's legacy. And he can't face them all now. (Hah! He can't face anyone anymore... Not when he has no face!)

And so he swears Markus and everyone to secrecy, citing the confidentiality form he filled out before the procedure. He makes it so Connor and Nines and Hank will never find out, not until he can be repaired. And he finds the emptiest, most uninhabitable place in New Jericho to hide himself away between visits with the scientist running their tests on him.

This lasts all of three days before an irate police lieutenant and two worried RK units kick down New Jericho's doors. Hank is livid, demanding to know what's happened to Sixty. Nines had recalled the conversation they had had a few weeks back about the experimental procedure being conducted and, during his investigations into it, got in touch with some of the other androids who had had success in changing their appearances. They all confirmed that an android that looked quite like him was one of the participants but they didn't know how his test had turned out.

So, while Hank is busy yelling at Markus and demanding answers, Nines and Connor slip away. They track Sixty down and eventually corner him when he tries to escape. And they see the damage caused and how he's trying to hide himself away. And they don't even hesitate. They reach out and embrace him. Hank, having been notified via text, arrives a few moments later and all of them have a big, emotional reunion. And they take Sixty back home and make sure he understands that they all love him.

Eventually, he is restored to his previous appearance but his cosmetic coding still glitches out from time to time and his skin will flicker uncontrollably. He's learned to live with it. And hey... at least people definitely won't mistake him for his older brother anymore.

[eternal-armin]

turning page. [ fem ver ]

after years of experiments, [y/n] has finally found the way to reverse armin's titan-shifting.* 2,300 words. taking place in a pessimistic alternate future. *[ i haven't actually finished season four, but i asked my incredible boyfriend @atomicrobin3 for the basics about the end of the season. i wanted to do something inspired by season 3, episode 13 of 'the good place,' so this is a universe where titan-shifters stayed titan-shifters, and where the curse of ymir was never destroyed. ]

“after all the insanity and- and war that we’ve been through, i wanted to give you something good,” you began as steadily as you could, holding armin’s hands in yours. the weathered hands you loved so much, nimble and thin and strong. on his ring finger was a silver wedding band. all you could think of when you saw it was that day, standing on the beach in the summer sun, promising yourselves to each other. the best day of your life.

you didn’t dare to make eye contact, though perhaps you should’ve. you lacked the ability. you lacked the strength. just telling armin this would drain you for years.

“i’ve been working in the labs for a while, almost five years, trying so hard to figure out a way to reverse your titan. i want you to be able to live longer and see the world.”

you heard a little gasp escape your husband’s lips. “just a mini hange, huh?” he mused, and you could hear the awe in his voice, paired brilliantly with the anticipation he tried to bury. it became so obvious in the chuckle he gave following his words. it gave you a little bit of confidence to hear that, but your stomach still churned. he squeezed your hands, ghosting his thumbs over your knuckles; he could tell how nervous you were. “seashell, what’s wrong? if you can’t complete it before i’m 28, that’s okay, i can still live a full life.”

somehow that nickname still made butterflies flutter, even after all these years, even in this situation. “no, no. it’s complete, ‘min, it’s just…” you paused, biting your lip to try and not cry, or let out any weak sound. “c-can we take a walk?”

the sky was painted masterfully in reds, oranges, and pinks. the sun was halfway across the horizon, basking the land in a glorious warmth that only it could provide. your footsteps harmonized with armin’s along the stone pathway, as they often did.

“it’s complete. after many trials, the reversal is complete, and it works. it works. but all of the test subjects have lost the memories of notable people they’ve met within the last 9 years of their life. including all the time they spent together.”

the air was sweet with the smell of the coming spring and the rebirth of the world. life steadily crept back onto the shores, gracing the inlands with melting frost and the last gentle dusting of snow a few weeks back. a heavy silence like thick storm clouds rested on the two of you.

“back to when i was sixteen.” armin’s voice cracked. it was a subtle noise. yet it still broke your heart. “when i met you in the survey corps and…” he did not continue. you nodded, even though you knew he was looking at the horizon, not at you, just as pained as you were at the thought of making eye contact.

“yeah. you would be able to live a rich life, but you wouldn’t remember me. you’ll still retain memories of the people you met before then, so you’ll remember all your friends. it’s… it’s a weird thing, isn’t it? just the right amount of time to make it a painful consideration.” you forced a laugh. your throat ached at the feeling of falsity.

armin wrapped an arm around your shoulder. you hugged him, knowing that he was comforting himself with the gesture just as much as he was comforting you. “did you try different formulas? different execution methods? to- to change that?”

stiffly, you managed to nod, though all movement felt like it took more strength than you had. “i tried everything i could think of. every alteration, every new idea, even what hange may have thought of. but this… this is the only one that actually works. the others let the subjects become human again, but none of them lived much longer.” you inhaled, swallowing through a sandpaper throat. “this is the only chance you have at living a full, long, life. seeing the world, like you always wanted to.” another heavy silence settled on your shoulders. neither of you rushed to fill it. after so long, that one little detail felt like the only thing which had remained the same.

deep blues threatened the peacockish display of colors. the sun was disappearing quickly. armin didn’t hurry to return home; neither did you.

“what are you thinking, [y/n]?” armin asked. the pained wavering in his voice told you more than his words ever could.

“don’t let what we are get in the way of your dreams, armin. i want you to live a full life, i- i want you to see the world. i don’t care if you love me or if you don’t as long as you’re happy.” you took a breath, in and out, to try and settle your nerves. “i’ve thought about this from every angle and this is all i can think of where that’s the case.” you forced yourself to speak through your own trembling voice. hot tears cascaded down your cheeks, and yet they felt so far away.

armin’s chest rose slightly with the deep breath he took. “i’ll do it. no matter what, you’ll take care of me, so… i don’t mind. i’ll miss you like hell, but i don’t mind.”

“but you won’t. that’s what’s so scary about it. my heart will ache whenever i see you, but you won’t know me. you won’t miss me. you may never love me again.” a sob stung your throat, and you hugged him tighter. your response brought tears back to his eyes as well, returning your hug, an arm around your torso and an arm around your head. protecting you from the world and everything in it that wanted to hurt you, like he always had.

“how could i never love you again?” armin managed to say. the once-modulated tone melted away, and all you could hear was the boy you fell in love with. not scared, but brave, yet still crying at the thought of loss. “the incredible girl who loves the ocean as much as i do, who reads to me whenever i get a concussion, who knows how to help me whenever i get in my own head. the girl whose hands fit perfectly in mine. the girl i ran to in the most hopeless circumstances, and who i then watched have hope anyway. the woman i married because never before had i felt quite as seen as when you saw me. i will always love you, [y/n]. even if i need a few months to find that i love you again, i could never love anyone else.”

a flurry of different emotions burst in you, some happy, most sad. knowing how much he loved you, and yet knowing that it would be erased. but you knew he was right; nothing can ever be fully erased, no matter how little of it remains.

you pulled away from the hug, your face wet and reddened from emotion. armin cupped your cheeks, wiping away the tears with his thumbs, giving you a little smile. you managed to smile back, even though it hurt your heart to do so.

“we’ve found each other dozens of times. we’ve always ended up back together, side by side. we can do it again.” you said, forcing yourself to look on the bright side, which you suddenly found incredibly difficult. a little bit of hope seeped back into your voice. that spark of light, however small it was, gave armin empyrean relief. once again, in the worst situation, he watched you manage a smile and find the bit of good left.

“there’s the girl i love,” he said, his voice soft and sweet. armin pressed a kiss to your lips. suddenly you were overwhelmed by memories, ornate and heartwarming, of every time you had shared a moment like that. chaste or passionate, to comfort or to seduce. when you returned, injured, with the rest of the scouts, and armin did not return until hours later. faithfully you had waited and waited, standing outside, brushing off medical help until he could get it too, and running to him the moment you saw him. you kissed him and clung to him as if to reassure yourself that he was alive, and he was, and he clung to you just the same. now, you could do that all you wished, and it wouldn’t change a thing.

“i love you, [y/n]. i won’t say goodbye, because this isn’t a goodbye. it’s just a… see you soon. even if it takes a little while for me to recognize you again, i’ll still recognize you eventually.”

your smile brightened just slightly, but still faded eventually all the same. “i don’t wanna wait another year just to hear those words again. i don’t know how i’ll live without you.”

“it’s just one year. then you can hear it every day for the next seventy. you were strong enough to live through all you did. i know you’re strong enough to live through this.”

you rested your head back on his chest, nodding slightly. one year.

the sun rose on a fine spring day. you awoke long before the first rays of light, and watched as they filled your room, illuminating the profound loneliness which now inhabited it. sleep was a rarity once again. you didn’t realize how much you needed armin in order to sleep until now, when you didn’t have him. when you wouldn’t for a long time. this cozy room, this cozy home turned house, half as lively as it had once been, felt like no place to rest. plagued by the bittersweet memories you were too scared to relive and also too scared to let go of, you found that no sleep was better than basking in them.

the house was cleaner than it had probably ever been. sunlight glittered on the hand-scrubbed floorboards, casting white-hot gold on the pristine bed and its dressings, the portraits and paintings on the walls, the shelves of books and knick knacks. only one thing had changed, and now nothing was the same.

now that the sun had finally decided to join you, bringing the day along with it, you took a breath and got ready for it. you could summon little more than a white button-up, sweater, and slacks to wear. you could barely summon the movement to put them on. the mirror stared you down as you tried to avoid it, until eventually you succumbed and looked in it.

unsurprisingly, you saw yourself. you looked small in the reflection. you didn’t smile. how could you when you missed the tall blonde frame, once pressing sleepy kisses to your cheek, saying ‘good morning, love’ before you went your separate ways. you knew he wasn’t gone, that those moments would come back, but somehow mourning them made you feel a tiny bit better. or perhaps, at some point, it would.

the gentle sun touched the world with golden light, just enough to feel a little warm in the crisp early-morning air, but still cool enough to warrant another layer. the trees began to bloom with leaves and blossoms, and the grass looked alive again, with wild flowers just beginning to sprout along the green blades. the gorgeous blue sky was virtually cloudless. a few birds sang from somewhere in the trees as you walked along, and somewhere in the distance, families talked around the dining room table as the day began. the world tasted of dew and smelled the same.

this picturesque vignette comforted you like a blanket in winter.

in this sparse section of forest, you came upon the peaceful house-turned-infirmary where the test subjects were allowed to stay. white curtains danced in the half-opened windows, occasionally moving so as to give you a peek at the area inside. sectioned off by three-panel curtains, beds with white sheets were provided, with a table and chair for a visitor. the long wooden house was oddly in sync with the natural surroundings. you walked along the gravel path to the door which led inside.

your hand rested on the cool brass doorknob, hesitating to open it and greet the man you loved, who wouldn’t even know your name. for a moment you wondered how well you would actually be able to take it. but you didn’t answer that question. you didn’t need to. on your ring finger, thinned from years of grueling work, the golden wedding band, blue sea glass beads and opal, all the same, shone in the morning light, enveloping you in a hug unique only to your husband. the source of your greatest strength, the heart that he had given you. and suddenly your resolve came back. that beautiful, simple ring, which meant so completely much, with the words of armin’s vows inscribed on the inside.

the door pushed open with a soft creak. you nodded a hello to the nurse, and she nodded back, with a look in her eyes that told you everything you needed to know. the door clicked shut, and you approached armin’s bed. he was sitting up, blonde hair glittering gold in the rising sun, drinking water like a man once lost in a desert. you hesitated to make yourself known to the newly-awakened man in front of you, but all you wanted was to hear his voice again, no matter what it said. you plastered on a professional smile, relaxed your shoulders, and stepped forward, greeting him with a wave.

armin looked up at you and smiled back. the lack of recognition in his eyes hurt, but you did what you do best, and stayed strong.

“hi, armin. i’m [y/n]. i’ll be the one helping you adjust to the reversal.”

[deathsbestgirl]

the thing about these for me is that mulder knows scully doesn't really think it's insanity to pursue, and so does scully. they both already know the risks and they're still doing it. and later, mulder doesn't tell her the woman is samantha. he takes the deal to get scully back knowing the consequences, as did clone!samantha. i know they're arguing, but to me, it's a reminder of who they are & what they do in the face of pain & struggle & fear. they take turns ~feeling the pain of the losses they witness. this was one of scully's, because it hits close to home. mulder's being more rational, when we saw the opposite as he face losing scully when she was returned. i love this about them, another version of switching roles to me.

it's also definitely part of their struggle to verbally communicate. i don't think they like to fight, it isn't what they want to do and they're not good at it. it's too emotional. and when that's the direction it's going, they change course, change the subject.

the second one feels different to me because he's being drugged. they don't know that yet, but i don't think he would have been so harsh in this moment if it weren't the case. and scully's reaction later is similar to mulder's in wetwired. she takes everything he says into account and keeps investigating. she does her best to clear his name. she drives him out to albert hosteen and continue working. while scully's in the hospital, she tells him she was so sure he saw with him csm and even if her perception was altered, he takes it seriously that she saw something, and follows that avenue to continue investigating. any arguments they were having were part of some psychosis rather than true issues between them. maybe coming from sore spots, their worst thoughts that only surface at the worst of times. but they know they're on the same side already. they trust each other already.

none of this to say i think you're wrong at all btw. it's definitely part of their pattern that takes a long time to break lol i just mean i do think it's heavily influenced by their trust in & knowledge of each other. their knowing and lack of communication is one of my favorite things ever. the tests of their trust & belief in each other are so special. they always come out stronger, even before they learn to communicate clearly.

but also! i just need to talk about if it's leonard betts before memento mori, because it's so similar in my opinion! not that they're having an argument, but that scully is holding back from mulder at the end of lb. she doesn't tell him what betts said to her when he attacked her. mulder's telling her she did a good job and she should be proud, but she just wants to go home. he doesn't understand what's happening, we see no conversation after that. just scully bleeding onto her pillow in the middle of the night, then in mm she's telling him she has cancer. and, with lb after na, we still don't see a conversation. we see them plowing ahead with the next case. the way mulder has a crazy theory, tries to make her laugh. scully staying steadfast in a headless body didn't just get up & leave the morgue, slowly giving into his outlandish theory as crazy things happen. they recalibrate through their work. the slip back into the safety of their dynamics. it isn't healthy the way they don't communicate and finish the argument/conversation. but they ~move through the feelings & conflict in their own way.

ultimately, this is what leads to season six and their struggle regarding diana. and the whole season is them working out a lot of their issues. communication being a major one. and then we see a slow improvement through the rest of the original series, iwtb and ultimately, very open communication in the revival (still in their mulder-scully way lol). when they don't understand, the conversation keeps going. they ask questions until they're truly on the same page & talking about the same thing. they don't avoid feelings & talking like they used to.

It’s really funny we never know what happened between Never Again and Momento Mori. It’s so jarring the way the MSR scenes play out. One minute they’re in a silent stand off in their office, the next Mulder is bringing her flowers in the oncology ward and her face lights up when Scully sees him.

What was the conversation in between?!? The crazy thing with them that it is remotely possible that no conversation happened and all Scully had to do was say ‘can you meet me at the oncology ward’ and Mulder would drop everything and come; no questions asked and flowers in hand. I don’t know if that’s sweeter or not, but together they always seem more than the sum of their parts.

[voidplume]

Can you tell your boyfriend to stop being so fucking annoying about a shitty Blizzard game

Equal parts brilliant and controversial, scientist Moira O'Deorain is on the cutting edge of genetic engineering, searching for a way to rewrite the fundamental building blocks of life. Though O'Deorain will go to any lengths to make scientific breakthroughs, her work is still unknown to most of the world. But now that she has been freed from all constraints, it is only a matter of time before everything changes.[1]

O'Deorain presents herself as being calm and logical, though in truth, she enjoys her science more when playing with hapless test subjects.[3]

O'Deorain has a negative view of Overwatch, claiming that it was responsible for stifling scientific advancement for decades.[4] She has no interest in global conquest,[5] but is willing to work with those who might have such a goal.[6] Her intellectual pursuits are driven by her interest in humanity.[5] She is a geneticist first and foremost, and that's the scope of her ambition. With very flexible morals, O'Deorain prefers to focus on her research and has no patience for those who urge caution or restraint.[6] She is uncaring of the goals of those she allies with, provided that they continue to fund her research.[3]

Her right hand is heavily scarred; it has been speculated that it is a result of experimentation or a genetic anomaly.[6]

Background

“We are bedevilled by the mysteries of creation. Science can reveal the truths that lie behind these many questions. What we learn can unlock the true potential of humanity.„~ Moira O'Deorain

O'Deorain conducts her research

As a scientist, O'Deorain only cared about the evolutionary advancement of humanity.[7] Over a decade ago, she made waves when she published a controversial paper detailing a methodology for creating custom genetic programs that could alter DNA at a cellular level. It seemed like a promising step toward overcoming diseases and disorders and maximizing human potential. Dissent among her peers soon followed. Many considered her work to be dangerous because of its perceived ethical shortfalls, and O'Deorain was even accused of having the same unchecked desire for scientific advancement that some believed had caused the Omnic Crisis. In addition, other geneticists were unable to reproduce the results of Moira's research, which further called her discoveries into question. Instead of kickstarting her career, her paper seriously damaged her reputation.[1] Overwatch was among those who condemned her research, and in O'Deorain's own words, tried to silence her.[4]

O'Deorain experiments on Reyes

She received a lifeline in an offer from an unlikely source: Overwatch's covert ops division, Blackwatch.[1] She was personally recruited by Blackwatch's commander, Gabriel Reyes, who wanted someone who could help advise him on matters pertaining to genetics.[6] She continued her work in the shadows while developing new weapons and technologies for the organization.[1] Freed from her shackles, her genetic research greatly accelerated.[4] She had interactions with Blackwatch members Cole Cassidy and Genji Shimada, all of whom had their likes and dislikes pertaining to each other.[6] Among her experiments was one done on Reyes himself.[4] Her experiments on Reyes gave him super-human abilities, causing his cells to regenerate and decay at a hyper-accelerated rate.[8] Her employment was a closely kept secret.[1]

Retribution

“So much for keeping a low profile.„~ Moira

O'Deorain inside Rialto

Eight years before the present day, O'Deorain took part in a Blackwatch mission to Rialto to apprehend Antonio Bartalotti, an Italian businessman with links to Talon. The team consisted of herself, Reyes, Shimada, and Cassidy. The Blackwatch team arrived in a Venice safehouse and set up survaillance on the manor. They found Talon soldiers patrolling the grounds. When night fell, they infiltrated the manor.[9] They made their way through its interior, killing and/or incapacitating numerous Talon guards. Upon reaching Antonio's office, they found him there, not surprised to see them. Nor was he intimidated, as he pointed out that Overwatch abducting a "respected businessman" would be a public relations nightmare. Furthermore, even if they did take him, his "friends" would have him released within a week. After some thought, Reyes said "you're right" and shot Antonio, the force of the blast sending him through his office window. It was the shot that stirred the hornet's nest, alerting Talon to their presence, leaving them with "Plan B"—fight their way out. In the ensuring battle, O'Deorain told Reyes that he'd done the right thing, and that he shouldn't apologize.

Despite numerous Talon soldiers attacking them, the team successfully exfiltrated the site. However, the events revealed the existence of Blackwatch to the world, resulting in political and public fallout.[10] In the inquiries that followed, O'Deorain's research was uncovered. Many high-ranking Overwatch officials disavowed all knowledge of her affiliation with them.[1]

New Employers

“We stand on the brink of a breakthrough in human evolution. I've dedicated my life to unraveling its secrets. I take risks that others would consider to be unwise for I do not share their caution. Overwatch held back the pace of scientific discovery for decades. They believed my methods were too radical, too controversial. They tried to silence me. But there were others in the shadows, searching for ways to circumvent their rules. Freed from my shackles, the pace of our research hastened. Together we delved deeper into those areas forbidden by law, by morality, and by fear. New patrons emerged who possessed an appetite for my discoveries. And with this knowledge, what new world could we build...„~ Moira O'Deorain

Overwatch HQ was destroyed in the fight between Reyes and Jack Morrison. Reyes barely survived the ordeal, and was saved by O'Deorain, who injected him with an amplified version of the substance she'd injected him with years ago. She claimed that he'd been close to death, and had no alternative when it came to saving his life.[3] Whatever the truth of the claim, Reyes was alive, albeit in a state of agony.[11]

O'Deorain, now a member of Talon

After Overwatch was disbanded, O'Deorain was forced to turn to unconventional sources of funding.[1] This time, she was invited to join the scientific collective that had founded the city of Oasis, and was selected to be their Minister of Genetics.[12] Yet some whispered that the shadowy Talon organization had already been supporting her for years, aiding her experiments in exchange for utilizing the results for their own purposes.[1] By the time of Doomfist's return to Talon (or after his return), O'Deorain apparently had a seat on Talon's inner council.[4] O'Deorain's goals of pushing forward human evolution meshed well with Talon's, and she found a patron for her research in Doomfist.[6]

[randoimago]

Crush Crushing on Their Alter Ego

PART 1

FANDOM: Persona 5

Character(s): Makoto Niijima, Ryuji Sakamoto, Sumire Yoshizawa, Yusuke Kitagawa

Type of Request: Headcanons

Word Count: 521

Note(s): Part 2 to the other ask! Link is at the top

Makoto

She has an amused smile on her face when she hears you starting to swoon about the Phantom Thieves. 

That amused smile drops to a shocked expression when you begin saying, “I want Queen to step on me.”

Definitely gets flustered and immediately holds up a magazine to hide her face because she can’t let you see. She can’t let you figure out that she is Queen.

I mean, Makoto absolutely wants you to know because she does like you a lot, but she also knows that it’d be irresponsible to tell you just because she wants you to return her feelings.

It’s definitely hard to listen to you continuing to simp over her alter-ego so she tries to change the subject despite still wanting to hear what you have to say about her.

Ryuji

At first when he hears you simping, he gets jealous because who the hell is trying to take his crush from him?!

When he hears you’re simping for one of the Phantom Thieves, his immediate thought is it being Akira. Everyone simps for freaking Akira. 

Then he hears that you really like the “Skull” guy and Ryuji just freezes. He is just overcome with the instinct to tell you. Just to tell you everything because hey, he’s Skull. He’s the super cool Phantom Thief that’s super strong and cute.

Like he wants to tell you so bad that it hurts but the others keep telling him no because you’re not one of them but Ryuji wants you to know so badly. It’s just an endless fight he has in his head to tell you.

Because he can’t tell you, he just ends up getting jealous instead because hey, Ryuji is cool too! Ryuji is super strong and tough! That Skull guy might be cool, but Ryuji is right here for you! Eventually you’ll know the truth but for now, how about the guy behind the mask please.

Sumire

Doesn’t know how you found out that she’s (her alter-ego anyway) worked with the Phantom Thieves.

Sumire isn’t a phantom thief herself, but she doesn’t know how to tell you that information without you being suspicious to how she knows. So it’s very interesting to hear you talk about her work as one of them considering she’s not.

Probably not a huge fan of the simping. Some things you say are sweet like when you talk about how cute she is, but when you go on about her appearance it causes her to pause.

You don’t actually know her. You’re just crushing on the idea of her that’s displayed on TV. 

Maybe if she was more confident in herself then she wouldn’t mind as much, but you’re her crush so to see you falling for an image of herself hurts a bit.

Yusuke

Yusuke is very flattered when he hears your compliments and comments about himself and the thieves.

He’ll bring up the topic of the Phantom Thieves often just to hear you talk about him. Of course, he claims it’s to see public opinion but he really just wants to hear more.

Does feel some conflict over the situation because he is crushing on you but he has to listen to you talk about your own crush on Fox, someone you really know nothing about besides being a Phantom Thief.

Yusuke is pretty blunt so he might just give himself a bit of a pep talk before actually asking you on a date. 

If you like Fox then surely you’ll end up liking Yusuke too, right? It’s a risk he is willing to take because he does like you this much.