#elemental chaos skull

[playerkingsley]

ok, so now that one symbol from ashton's dreams -> on their person have manifested into a materially beneficial reality, fingers crossed someone kryn or kryn-adjacent or even with a general awareness points out the suspiciously beacon-shaped one next to it (hopefully it's preserved in the upcoming outfit update)

[wilwheaton]

In the wake of a near-tragic assassination attempt of a widely reviled figure, some people who loathe him may be wrestling with or suppressing emotions that feel contradictory. But the notions that Trump is dangerous, and that attempting to murder him is also dangerous, are not in tension with each other. The ethics and the practicality of liberal democracy both affirm a strong norm against political violence. [...]    Even though American history has seen a long litany of murders and attempted murders — Gerald Ford survived two attempts on his life within a few weeks of each other — this one feels scarier. That is because our social peace has grown more precarious. An assassination attempt on Donald Trump is a far more dangerous thing than an attempt to kill Mitt Romney would have been a dozen years ago, or Al Gore a dozen years before that.    And while the responsibility for maintaining social peace and the norm of non-violence is shared equally across the political spectrum, the blame for its decay is not.    Trump stokes and feeds upon a lust for violence. He possesses a demagogue’s skill for manipulating his supporters’ most elemental emotions. As a private citizen he exploited a white woman’s rape in Central Park to demand the execution of innocent young men of color. He continues to call for various critics to be executed for their disloyalty. When a maniac attempted to kill Nancy Pelosi and smashed the skull of her husband, he cheered it on. He continues to glorify and promise to free the criminals who assaulted police in the attack on the Capitol in an attempt to seize an unelected second term.    It is not Trump’s fault that someone tried to kill him. It is absolutely his fault that it has immediately set off a widespread fear of reprisals and chaos.

Trump Shooting: He Must Be Defeated by Ballots, Not Bullets

Look, I can’t wait for the guy to die and be gone forever. I just want him to die in prison.

And he’s still a Fascist. Don’t let that get obscured in all of this. He’s still the same wannabe dictator, the same hateful liar, the same corrupt traitor, the same 34 time convicted felon, the same rapist.

Nothing about him has changed. Nothing about Project 2025 has changed.

Obviously, the national conversation is going to be focused on this for the near future, and we can’t forget or minimize that he remains a serious and dire threat to America, and the world.

[bl3upi3]

A Night to Remember | Monkey D. Luffy

Part 2

Summary: In the midst of a disaster at sea, your crew encounters the Straw Hat Pirates led by Monkey D. Luffy. After initial skepticism, you accept their help, and amidst the chaos, a deep connection forms between you and Luffy. The night brings passion, revealing mutual feelings.

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut, p in v unprotected (I'm bad with warnings)

A/N: This is straight out of my imagination. I just watched the live action and am thinking of starting the anime so yes, this work is a messy mix of anything and everything. English is not my first language so I'm sorry if there are any mistakes. I tried not to change Luffy's personality as much as I could. (My requests are open if wanted)

As you and your crew sailed through the unpredictable waters of the Grand Line, the tranquility of the day shattered in an instant. A violent collision rocked the sturdy vessel as it struck an unyielding underwater rock, tearing through the boat's hull with a heart-wrenching screech of rending wood. The impact sent shockwaves of fear rippling through your crew, their faces etched with stark dread as they grasped the gravity of the situation.

Chaos ensued as you scrambled to assess the extent of the damage, your hands slick with seawater as you desperately tried to gauge the severity of the breach. Panic gnawed at your senses, every second feeling like an eternity, and uncertainty hung heavy in the salt-tinged air.

As if orchestrated by the very elements themselves, a thick and disorienting fog descended upon you with an eerie swiftness, obscuring your vision and muffling any sounds beyond the boat. It was as though the elements had conspired to further complicate your dire predicament, isolating your vessel in an unsettling cloak of obscurity.

Your heart pounded within your chest as the realization settled in—the lives of your crew hinged upon your quick thinking and resourcefulness. Yet, amidst the silence of the disaster, a creaking sound pierced the air. You yielded your place to a member of your crew to investigate the source of the noise.

As you strained your eyes to peer through the dense fog, a white boat with a sheep-shaped figurehead slowly materialized before you. Your gaze instinctively rose to the flag fluttering from its mast—a skull-headed emblem adorned with a distinctive straw hat—a flag of pirates.

"Hey there! It looks like you could use some help," a figure standing on the edge of the approaching vessel called out.

"Who are you?" you inquired, squinting in an attempt to discern the identity of the mysterious individual.

"I'm Monkey D. Luffy, the captain of the Straw Hat Pirates! The fog swallowed us up, and we stumbled upon your beleaguered vessel, which doesn't seem to be in the best shape," he cheerfully replied.

You and your crew exchanged glances, unsure of how to react to this unexpected turn of events.

With a cautious tone, you responded, "I appreciate your offer, Monkey D. Luffy, but we can't be too careful out here. We've just suffered a terrible collision, and our ship is badly damaged. How can we trust that your intentions are genuine?"

Luffy grinned widely, his boundless energy seemingly undeterred by your skepticism. "I get it; you're being cautious. That's a good trait to have out here. But you've got my word. We're not here to harm you. We're pirates, yeah, but we're not the bad guys!"

As he spoke, Luffy's crew members began to emerge from the fog, appearing on the deck of their ship one by one. Each of them had a distinct look and demeanor, but there was something about them that suggested they were not the typical ruthless pirates one might encounter.

One of Luffy's crewmates, a man with green hair added, "We're just passing through these waters, and we've had our fair share of adventures. We know what it's like to be in a tight spot. We're offering our help because it's the right thing to do."

You considered their words and looked at your own crew. They were still on edge, but the desperation of your situation was evident. Your ship was taking on water faster than you could bail it out, and the fog showed no signs of dissipating. It was a perilous situation, and you needed all the help you could get.

After a moment of deliberation, you turned back to Luffy and said, "Alright, we'll accept your offer of help. But know this, if there's any treachery or harm intended for my crew, we won't hesitate to defend ourselves."

Luffy's face lit up with excitement "Deal! You won't regret it! We'll get your ship fixed up in no time!"

A wooden plank was placed between the two boats, allowing you and your crew to board the white vessel. Luffy spoke with enthusiasm, "Welcome to the Going Merry," offering his hand for you to shake.

You looked around at his small crew, taking note of each member. However, you didn't shake Luffy's hand just yet. Instead, your gaze settled on his comrades. Luffy followed your gaze and introduced them, "This is Roronoa Zoro," pointing to the green-haired guy who had spoken earlier, "This is Nami, Usopp, and Sanji," revealing the rest of his crew whom you hadn't seen yet.

"I hope you're hungry," the blond-haired Sanji said with a smile, "I've prepared a meal fit for thousands."

As your crew members cautiously stepped onto the Going Merry, they exchanged wary glances, still unsure about this unexpected alliance. But the warm smiles and genuine hospitality displayed by Luffy's crew began to put them at ease, albeit slowly.

You finally shook Luffy's hand, sealing the agreement. "Thank you for coming to our aid, Monkey D. Luffy. We appreciate your help, and we'll do our part to assist as well."

“You can call me Luffy” he smiled

"Thank you, Luffy," you replied with a nod. "I'm y/n, the captain of this crew. We're in your debt."

With introductions made and a mutual understanding established, the two crews set to work. Your crew members, alongside Luffy's crew, began assessing the extent of the damage to your ship, while Luffy himself seemed to be filled with boundless energy as he led the charge, making plans and offering assistance wherever needed.

As the day wore on and repairs were underway, you couldn't help but notice the camaraderie among the Straw Hat Pirates. They worked seamlessly together, each member contributing their unique skills to the task at hand. It was evident that they were a tight-knit crew, bound not just by their captain's leadership but by a genuine sense of friendship.

Nami, the crew's navigator, approached you as you oversaw the repairs. "You're lucky we happened upon you," she said with a sly grin. "The Grand Line can be unforgiving to those who sail it unprepared. But don't worry, with our help, you'll be back on your way in no time."

Usopp, the sharpshooter of the crew, chimed in, "And if you ever run into any trouble out here again, just give us a shout. We've got your back."

Sanji, the crew's cook, began preparing a feast for both crews to enjoy together. The aroma of his cooking filled the air, and your crew members couldn't help but be drawn to the delicious scent. It was a welcome respite from the earlier chaos and fear.

As evening fell, and the repairs to your ship neared completion, you gathered with Luffy and his crew around a makeshift table on the deck of the Going Merry. Plates of food were passed around, and laughter filled the air as stories were shared.

It felt so peaceful and normal—it wasn't often that you found yourself enjoying such casual conversation with strangers.

"So, where are you headed next?" Nami asked as she took a sip from her cup of sake.

You shrugged, briefly glancing at your crewmates before responding, "I haven't made up my mind just yet."

Luffy leaned back in his seat, his signature straw hat tilted low over his eyes. "You know, y/n, the Grand Line is full of adventures waiting to happen. We're always looking for new crewmates and allies. You and your crew seem like good people. Ever thought about joining us on the ultimate adventure?"

Your crew members exchanged surprised glances at Luffy's proposition. It was a tempting offer, to say the least. The idea of joining the Straw Hat Pirates and exploring the Grand Line with them was exhilarating, but you knew you couldn't make such a decision on a whim.

You chuckled, trying to defuse the sudden tension in the air. "Well, Luffy, that's a tempting offer, but we've got our own dreams and goals. Maybe our paths will cross again in the future."

Amid the ongoing dinner festivities, you couldn't help but become engrossed in the lively conversation with Nami. It was a refreshing change to find yourself in the company of another woman after what felt like an eternity. You shared an unspoken connection, a bond that went beyond words, stemming from the shared experience of being the sole females in your respective crews. It was as if you both understood the unique challenges and dynamics that came with that role.

Your discussions with Nami ranged from the practicalities of navigation and mapmaking to the more personal aspects of life at sea. You exchanged stories of your adventures, your dreams, and the occasional frustrations that came with your responsibilities. Nami's wisdom and wit resonated with you, and it was clear that you were kindred spirits in many ways.

However, despite your best efforts to focus solely on your conversation with Nami, you felt a steady gaze on the side of your face—Luffy's eyes never left you. He remained leaned back in his chair, contentedly eating and drinking, seemingly absorbed in your every word.

The dinner eventually came to an end, and the crew members of both vessels retreated to their respective quarters for some much-needed rest. You returned to your boat, grateful for the repairs and hospitality of the Straw Hat Pirates.

As you lay in your cabin, trying to find sleep amidst the creaking of the ship and the gentle rocking of the waves, you couldn't help but think about Luffy's offer. The allure of joining his crew and embarking on the ultimate adventure was tantalizing, but your responsibilities as a captain weighed heavily on your mind.

Unable to sleep, you decided to take a walk on the deck of your ship to clear your thoughts. The night was calm, the stars glittering above, and the moon casting a silvery glow over the water.

After your contemplative walk on the deck, you noticed a faint light coming from one of the rooms on Luffy's ship, the Going Merry.

Curiosity got the better of you, and you decided to investigate. The door to the room was slightly ajar, and you could see a warm glow emanating from within.

As you entered the room, you were met with an unexpected sight. Luffy was sitting there,his face illuminated by the soft glow of the lamp atop his desk. His head was resting against the table as he continued to write something down on his notepad.

You cleared your throat, breaking the silence that had engulfed the room

Luffy looked up, his wide grin returning as he noticed your presence. "Hey there, y/n," he greeted, his tone friendly and inviting. "Couldn't sleep either, huh?"

You nodded, stepping further into the room. "Yeah, I wanted to thank you for everything you did today”

Luffy gestured for you to take a seat opposite him, and you obliged, settling into a chair. The room was cozy, filled with maps, navigational tools, and scattered notes that attested to the adventures this crew had undertaken.

"No need to thank me," Luffy said with a shrug. "Helping out is what we do. Besides, it's been fun having your crew around." He then dropped his voice into a whisper having a more serious tone “I appreciated having you around,  y/n."

As you stared into his eyes, you noticed  something in his expression that caught you off guard. His eyes… they were different. In a way, they were filled with longing and desire. 

"Luffy…" you muttered softly, unable to tear your gaze away from the intensity of his eyes. "What's going on? Why are you looking at me that way?"

Luffy sighed deeply getting up of his chair, he walked over to the small window in the room, gazing out at the starry night. For a moment, he seemed lost in thought, as if contemplating how to put his feelings into words. Then, he turned back to face you, his usual carefree demeanor giving way to a more serious expression.

"Y/n," he began, "I don't know how to say this the right way, but I can't help how I feel. Ever since we met today, there's been something about you that's drawn me in. I've traveled to countless islands, faced dangerous foes, and encountered all sorts of people, but meeting you felt different. It's like... like I've found something I didn't even know I was searching for."

His confession left you breathless, your heart racing in your chest. This revelation took you by surprise, especially considering it came so soon after your initial meeting. 

You, too, stood up and approached him, "Luffy," you began, your voice soft but filled with warmth, "I can't deny that there's something special about you. But we both know we will never see each other again”

Luffy nodded, his gaze unwavering. "I know that, y/n. But I've always followed my heart, and my heart tells me that you're special. I don't want to let this opportunity slip away without trying." 

As he leaned closer, his eyes locked onto yours,  his hand reaching forward to cradle your cheek in his palm. Your breathing grew shallow, your pulse quickening, as he brought his lips closer to yours.

Before you knew it, his lips were gently pressing against yours, sending tingles throughout your entire body.  A feeling of euphoria overcame you, and your eyes widened as you realized that what you'd felt was real. The kiss lasted longer than you expected, and when you finally pulled back, your heart was pounding so hard inside your chest.

Luffy smiled brightly, "This was a first time for me, y'know?"  

A blush spread across your cheeks as you laughed lightly in response. "Well, then don't stop" you whispered.

He instently crashed his lips on yours again, this time angrier and hungrier. His hands wandered from your waist to your hips, pulling you impossibly close to him until you felt as if you were melting in his embrace. His kiss deepened,  his tongue dancing with yours as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

There's no need to hold back now, you told yourself. You felt his warm hands caressing your skin, making heat pool between your thighs.

Your hand instinctively reached to remove his hat, but he stopped you, his hand gently grasping your wrist. He paused to look into your eyes for a few heartbeats before releasing you and carefully placing his hat atop your head.

As Luffy's hat settled atop your head, you couldn't help but feel a rush of emotions. It was a symbol of trust, a connection that transcended words, and a promise of something more. You gazed into Luffy's eyes  again, still flushed red with passion and arousal.

"Can I be honest with you?" you asked, your hands still resting on his shoulders.

Luffy hesitated for a second before giving a quick nod in return. "Of course", he replied.

You leaned in, brushing your lips against his again " You're a good kisser" you whispered against his lips. 

His lips curled into a slight smirk as he responded "Thanks".You closed your eyes as his lips trailed down to your jawline, leaving soft kisses along the way. His lips traced down your neck, slowly kissing your collarbone.  Your breathing increased, your mind becoming clouded with lust and desire. As your fingers ran through his hair, you felt him smile against your skin. Luffy's warm breath brushed against your ear as he spoke. "Do you want to have sex?" he asked.

His question surprised you, your mind taking a couple seconds to process the request. After all, this wasn't something you usually discussed with anyone. "Umm, I'm sorry. What?" you stuttered.

Luffy chuckled "Don't worry. There's nothing wrong with saying no if you don't want to."

You shook your head in disbelief. “It’s just…” you began, a frown forming on your face as you tried to gather your thoughts. “Are you sure? Do you really want to?” you asked quietly.

Luffy's smile grew wider as he leaned in, bringing his face closer to yours once again. “Yes, I'm sure.”

Your eyes darted to his lips, which were inches away from your own, hesitating for a moment before you moved forward. With your lips barely touching his, you whispered "Then yes..." 

Luffy grinned as he kissed you, his hands slid from your waist to behind your thighs, lifting you off the ground as your legs encircled around his waist. His mouth moved hungrily against yours as he got to his knees, the wood  creaking beneath his weight causing you to moan when you felt his hardness press against you through his pants. 

Your breath hitched in your throat when he began to move his hips slowly, eliciting a gasp from you as you pressed your pelvis against his crotch, feeling his erection harden in response. You moaned louder as you felt him grind his hips forward.

"You'll have to be quiet, everyone's asleep downstairs" Luffy whispered into your ear, moving one of his hands to cup your breast. 

The sound of his voice sent shivers down your spine, your body heating up as his hand moved to the hem of your shirt, removing it and throwing it to the side. You hurried to undo the buttons on his vest, letting it fall to the floor with yours. 

You slide off of him, your heart skipped a beat when he reached down and started unbuttoning his trousers,  pulling them off and tossing them aside. Your gaze drifted lower, noticing his bulge pushing against his black boxers. When you heard him groan, you glanced up at him, seeing his eyes darken in anticipation.

You took off your shorts and underwear, allowing them to fall to the ground next to his clothes. As you crawled towards him and lowered yourself onto his lap once again, he held you tightly, bringing you so close to him that you could feel his beating heart pulsating against your breasts.

"Oh God!" Luffy gasped, his teeth grinding together as he gripped you tighter, grinding you against him. You reached between your bodies, slipping your fingers into his boxer briefs, rubbing them lightly against his length. He let out a low grunt, his hips bucking upwards as you continued teasing his shaft with your touch.

You set him free from the cloth that separates you, and positioning his member against your entrance,  you pushed yourself slowly down onto him, feeling him tense as he entered you completely.

He grunted loudly, his hands clutching tightly onto your thighs as he thrust himself into you, the sensation of being filled filling you with joy. 

Luffy leaned forward, capturing your lips once again in another passionate kiss, his tongue tangling into your mouth. His hand traveled downwards, stopping above your clit as he slowly stroked it. As he did so, you moaned softly into his mouth, your whole body shaking.

"Fuck! Y/n," he gritted out.

"I thought you told me we had to be quiet" you teased, your voice breathy.

Luffy smirked as he rolled his eyes, shifting you slightly on top of him to allow you to continue to ride him.  Your hips thrust upward and downward, faster and faster until you reached an orgasm. Luffy placed his hand on your mouth as you rode your high, his face scrunched up in pure pleasure.

The moment passed, and you sat yourself up, looking down at him, "Sorry" you giggled. "I guess I kind of lost track of myself."

He snorted, "You mean lost track of my dick" he joked.

You laughed softly while playfully hitting his arm, "Yeah well, maybe I got carried away... or perhaps a little bit too excited."

Luffy shrugged, "Maybe a bit, but we're not going to talk about those kinds of things right now. We're both naked and horny, remember?"

"Mhmmm" you hummed as you grabbed him and laid on your back, pulling him atop of you . He gently took the hat off you and set it down somewhere to the left of where your discarded clothes lay.  He then proceeded to take control once again, pushing his cock deeper into you. Your breathing grew rapid, your eyes closed as you relished in the feeling.

Luffy began thrusting rapidly within you, his eyes staring deeply into yours. In response, you grasped onto  his back as your nails lightly dug into his skin.  Sweat dripped from your brow, and your legs quickly wrapped around his waist, pulling him ever further into you until there wasn't an inch of room between you two.

Luffy looked down at you as his thrusts slowed, watching as your chest rose and fell rapidly as you panted lightly.

 He gave you one last loving peck on the lips before returning his attention to his own actions. He pulled out slightly only to slam back in just as hard. Your back arched, causing you to moan loudly as he drove deeper into you. He buried his face in your neck, his teeth grazing the delicate flesh as you cried out with ecstasy.

Luffy's movements became frenzied as his climax overtook him, he withdraws himself from you before his semen spilled onto your stomach. A gasped escaped your lips as you felt his seed drip onto you.

The two of you fell silent, your eyes locked on each other, your chests rising and falling as you caught your breaths.

"Fuck, I thought it was your first time" you said between heavy breathes as you took a nearby tissue to clean you off

Luffy smiled, laying  down beside you "It is" he said out of breath looking at you with lustful eyes.

You gave him a soft smile,  your fingers running through his messy locks as he closed his eyes and sighed in content. 

The night, filled with passion and tenderness, eventually yielded to the creeping light of dawn. Gently, you stirred from the warmth of Luffy's embrace, feeling a pang of bittersweet nostalgia as you reluctantly disentangled yourself.

With a sigh, you rose from the ground, limbs still tingling from the shared intimacy of the night before. The room held the faint fragrance of your encounter, a lingering reminder of the passion that had unfolded.

As you dressed and made yourself presentable, you couldn't help but steal glances at Luffy, who lay in peaceful slumber, his straw hat resting next to him.

The first rays of sunlight filtered through the small window, casting a gentle glow on the room.A sign that the time had come to part ways with the Straw Hat Pirates. Though the night had felt like a dream, reality beckoned, and your own ship awaited.

You bent down and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, your heart heavy with unspoken emotions.

As you made your way towards the door, you turned back one last time, taking in the sight of the man who had turned your world upside down in just one night. With a whispered goodbye, you stepped out of the room, leaving behind the memories of an unforgettable encounter.

A/N: Hope you liked it, idk if I should make it a short fic or not. Anyways, don’t hesitate to give other ideas, my requests are open :)

[so-sures-blog]

Earthbound

earthbound definition: attached or restricted to the earth.

In which Cole stands up to a tyrant that is cruel and unjust deep within the mountain. Because he made a promise.

🪨 🌋 🖤 🪨 🌋 🖤 🪨 🌋🖤 🪨 🌋 🖤

It doesn’t take a genius to see that Cole’s losing.

The cave is in chaos; the sound of screams and clanging weapons fill the air as two sides clash against each other.

Vangelis and the Skull are toying with him, and he knows it: they’re circling him, trying to throw him off by telling lies about his mother. Cole blocks the hits from Vangelis and the blasts from the Skull, feeling like a fly they were winding up in a web of lies.

Vangelis rises above him, resembling a winged creature of death with his blank mask and the glowing Skull of Hazza D’ur in hand. “And now, her deceit has doomed you!”

“Her only son,” the Skull rasps.

Vangelis hurls the Skull at Cole; growing brighter and brighter the closer it gets. He stands his ground and braces himself.

The Skull collides, and the blades …

… shatter.

Cole is thrown back, the air knocked out of his lungs as his body rolls to a stop. He sits up weakly, before throwing back his mask to gasp at the sight of the broken Blades of Deliverance.

“No!” He cries. With trembling fingers, his gloved hands hold onto the shattered pieces of the black and white blades. “It can’t be …”

His mother … lied …

“It is,” Vangelis glides towards him menacingly. “And now, you will pay the price for your mother’s lies.”

“Lies, deceit,” the Skull rasps.

Cole screams in pain as the Skull unleashes fire upon his fallen form.

“Your cause is lost.”

More fire.

“Have the grace to admit defeat.”

More fire. More, more. Blistering pain wreaks havoc across his broken body.

It’s hopeless. He’s finished. He’s too weak. It’s over. He just wants to —

He remembers his mother.

🪨 🌋 🖤 🪨 🌋 🖤 🪨 🌋🖤 🪨 🌋 🖤

“I want you to promise me, Cole. That you will always stand up to those who are cruel and unjust. Always.”

“Always.”

🪨 🌋 🖤 🪨 🌋 🖤 🪨 🌋🖤 🪨 🌋 🖤

His mother … her strength hadn’t come from the Blades of Deliverance. She’s always been strong. She had been sick all his life, yet no matter how weak her body had gotten she had moved through her life with implacable momentum. Impossible to sway or dissuade. Ever since he was young, his mom had power — from her beliefs … and from the Earth.

“It was her,” he realizes. “It wasn't the blades. It was her. The power inside my mother.” The power inside of me, his heart whispers. Not the Spinjitzu Burst. The power of Earth.

“It was all her.”

“Alas,” Vangelis laughs cruelly. “You are not half the warrior your mother was.”

Pain and grief bite through his being, but Cole forces himself to his feet to glare at the Skull Sorcerer. “Maybe not, but I am her son.” Conviction buries itself deep into his being. “And I made her a promise to stand up to tyrants like you! Always!”

The mountain rumbles its agreement. Cole digs his fingers into the rock and feels it mold around the shape of them. Every grain of earth begins to glow as his power seeps into it.

“What are you doing? What is this!” The Skull Sorcerer demands.

“It's the Burst!” He barely hears Master Wu cry above his roaring element.

But no. It's not, and Cole can feel it. It's something different. Deeper.

His power was strongest when he was the closest to the earth and he’s never been farther underground. He was basically at the bottom of the world. Never has he been more surrounded by the very thing that powered him. The Skull Sorcerer thought he was burying him — but what if bringing him closer to his full strength? To the source of his elemental power?

Cole could feel it — the connection to the earth. He could feel it reaching out towards him, coming from the ground all around him.

He stands and lets it in. He let the energy of the earth infuse him, deep into his core and surging forward. The Skull of Hazza D’ur comes flying forward to finish him off and Cole bursts to life.

Unparalleled power explodes from the earth, bright and blinding, and Cole feels more alive than ever. His skin disappears, being replaced with magma and rock as the mountain quakes under his force.

The battle halts as everyone stops at the sheer force of the Earth; Ninja gape in shock, the Shintarians fly back in fear, the cave-dwellers stare with awe.

“Son of Lilly,” the Geckle and Munce whisper.

Cole rises with the power of the Earth; the Skull spiraling, lost, as he reaches for it with a molten hand and throws it down against the Earth. Destroying it.

The battle — one that had been reigning in secret for decades — is finally over.

🪨 🌋 🖤 🪨 🌋 🖤 🪨 🌋🖤 🪨 🌋 🖤

Vania dips her head as the last servant that has finished attending her and shuts the door.

She takes a deep breath, listening to the fading footsteps of the servant and the guards clanking armor move away.

Then she springs into action.

She quickly changes, flying out of her normal, queenly wardrobe into more plain, neutral robes. She glances at Chompy, who’s watching her from his bed. She touches the dragon’s head.

“I’ll be back before morning — promise,” she whispers. He makes a chattering noise, telling her he’s displeased. “I know! I will, I promise. I just …” she bites her lip. “I just can’t leave him alone down there.”

Maybe Chompy can hear the pain in her voice, because he doesn’t argue — simply pushes his head into her hand with a small chur of forgiveness.

Vania pushes past the grief and stands, lighting a candle before leaving. She sneaks through her own palace silently, moving past guards like a ninja as she heads for the gardens.

She makes her way to the entrance of the garden alcove leading into the mountain, her heart steadily beating harder. The caves beneath the mountain were deserted, with the Geckle and Munce people deciding that they wanted to live their new lives above the mountain.

She scurries down; down and down the winding mountain, past cramped caverns and twisting turns, the cloying darkness only fought off by a single flame.

Finally she reaches it.

The Heart of the Mountain.

The legendary temple for the Masters of Earth. Ancient scriptures written in the Old Tongue read: Let pass through here, into this refuge and sanctuary, only those who are One with the Earth. Orange flames danced off the walls, even though no one had been down here to light them. Power shined through the giant doorway as Vania drew nearer.

Creak …

The door opened slightly.

Vania went inside, following the carved path molded by Geckle and Munce. Statues of ancient Earth Masters and their stories echoes around her, and she ignores the familiar goosebumps that rise along her skin. Her eyes linger on the statue of Lilly, before moving on.

Statues are more than solid pieces of art. They are immovable, unbreakable monuments that enrich storytelling, making the experience of living more profound and unforgettable. They remind us of the strength of traditions, the power of history, and the enduring spirit that echoes throughout the ages.

She draws closer to the one standing in the middle, heart beating loudly in her chest. It's tall and strong, newly carved. Awake and glowing with the surging elemental energy. She reads the plaque in front of it.

This statue was carved with love and gratitude by Geckle, Munce, and Shintarian craftsmen in honor of Cole Brookstone: Ninja, brother, and son.

Vania places the candle on the stone ledge and takes a seat on it, facing away from the statue. It feels like yesterday she was trapped in here with the Upply and Master Wu, trying to figure out a way to stop her father. She forces the memories away when she feels the mountain move.

“Hello, Cole,” she says softly. The Earth rumbles under her feet, before slowly forming and making a vague shape of the person she used to know. Orange light shines through the cracks of rock as he peers at her curiously, waiting.

Vania smiles.

“So, what story would you like to hear today?”

[coffee-in-rain]

Vulnerable Hannibal Fic Rec List

New addition (located @ the bottom of the page) as of 9/24/2024!

On my previous post, people were interested in finding fics where Hannibal is touch-starved and or dealing with separation anxiety post-fall. So here is a small list of some that may fit that theme! The first five fics are mine, but the rest are some of my favorite fics I’ve ever read that feature vulnerable Hannibal in various seasons, AUs, and post-canon. This list will be updated intermittently!

The Ache Against The Wind (Rewritten): He’d sustained a substantial amount of brain damage throughout the last eleven days, Will had been told. Resulting in Post-Traumatic Amnesia. (Hannibal is tortured in the BSHCI via beatings, laxatives, enemas, starvation and the “water curing” method after his toilet is removed. Will saves him).

Pareidolia: Six weeks post-fall, Hannibal suffers from a seizure during dinner.

Je Te Laisserai Des Mots: Six months have passed since Will pulled them over the cliff. Even in light of their progressing relationship, much of Hannibal still remains a mystery to Will. For reasons unknown, he’s begun to pull away. (A sequel to Shrike; my housewife Hannibal fic!)

Between The Hour Of Reprieve:

At the cliff house, Hannibal receives a much-needed-hug. (features crying, touch-starved Hannibal).

Shrike (To Your Sharp And Glorious Thorn): Hannibal feels anxious about the prospect of Will abandoning him one day because he isn’t at all capable of being like Molly. His anxiety only heightens when Will gets a job. (features crying housewife Hannibal speaking Lithuanian).

A Cabin In The Woods by KoolJack1: Hannibal is thirteen and runs away from the orphanage when he feels that a fate of the elements will be better than the fate of abuse. He finds a small cabin in the woods, thinking warmth will be all he finds. He also finds Will. But who changes who?

Recipricol Alchemy by Scifibabe: In the silent echoes of his dreams, Will Graham treads a line blurred between control and chaos, each step drawing him inexorably towards claiming Hannibal as his own. It's a perilous dance on the edge of darkness, where the thrill of possession whispers of a transformation too profound to resist.

Hold Me, Don’t Let Me Go by sourweather: It's a few months after the Fall when it finally hits him. Hannibal has barely been touched in 3 years. And Will won't let it go on for another moment.

Hosanna In The Highest by sainthannibal: During the fall, Hannibal receives the brunt of the injuries, which leaves him unable to care for himself. Will discovers how much he enjoys taking care of him.

You Made Me Soup by itsybitsylemonsqueezy: Hannibal comes down with pneumonia while incarcerated. Will decides to make him some soup. Absolutely no one thinks it's strange that Will comes to give his ex soup when he finds out he's sick. No one at all finds this suspicious. At. All.

The Boy Under The Monster’s Bed by Wr4tttttthh: There were deep wounds that needed healing, new and old, physical and otherwise. (features crying, vulnerable Hannibal).

Delicate Ghost by hannigramcracker & TimmyJayBird: She was different- not the ghost of his memories, but something about this bloodied child ripped right at Hannibal's chest, and left him drowning in a cold snow he thought he had left in his childhood, that he had locked away within his skull. Drowning, with only one hand to grasp at, one body to cling to. One man to work him through the trauma and remind him what life was.

You With Those Nails, Me With This Cross by TheBitterKitten:

Will goes too far.

The Distance Is Quite Simply Much Too Far For Me To Row by softhan: Hannibal is having a rough time recovering from his injuries post-fall, and retreats into himself to avoid confrontation with Will while he's still weak and ill. Having to play happy husbands hardly helps.

Silk and Lace by jonnimir: Bedelia leaves Hannibal and Will a gift at the house on the cliff.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Mission Control 10

Warnings: non/dubcon, violence, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Captain Hydra

Summary: a man marches into your life on a mission

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You still don’t know what to call the man. Captain? Rogers? He’s just the man to you. The stranger who doesn’t speak. 

He doesn’t linger. You can’t help but wonder if it’s some game. If he’s playing with you. His stoicism is just another weapon against you. As he leaves, you sit, stunned and lost. Alone. 

The front door of the cabin shuts you in but you don’t know that you would have the courage to let yourself out. The man found you once; unbidden and unexpected, you’re certain he could do it again and again and again. So, you wait until you’re certain the house is empty before you get up. 

You fix the nightgown and hug yourself as you peek through the open bedroom door. You emerge warily and glance through to the bathroom. The front room once jars you further. You forgot how cozy, how normal it seams. 

You wander around the frayed rug and inspect every piece of furniture. A draft runs through the room, blowing in around the door. There’s an iron basket of split logs next to the fireplace. There’s something yellow on top.

You go over and open the packet; inside, a lighter and a little booklet on how to start a fire. Hm. There’s a bag of kindling next to the wood as well. Maybe later. 

You set the packet back down and turn to face the other doorway. The one you’ve not yet ventured through. The kitchen is small but tidy. On the table, there’s a small crate. Within, sorted neatly, are similar silver packets to the one he handed you in the bedroom. They are labeled alongside a large bag of quick oats. 

The oats simply read, ‘Breakfast’. The writing is jagged but legible. Each packet is labeled decisively; Day 1 – Dinner, Day 2 – Lunch... On and on. You turn and face the fridge. The only thing on it is another note. ‘Drink Water. Not Tap.’ Got it. After the complete absence of communication, it’s nice to have at least a little directive. 

You retreat to the bedroom and check the empty packet. Yep, Day 1 – Lunch. Amid the chaos of your abduction and the desolation of this place, the pieces of order stick out sorely. It all feels so fractured. 

You go to the armoir and try to open it. The doors don’t budge. You back up and cross your arms again. You’re really starting to get cold. You should get the fire going before your fingers go completely numb. 

You strip the flannel blanket from the bed and wrap it around your shoulders. You go back into the living room and hep the extra layer at your waist as you sit on your knees and try to figure out the fireplace. After several splinters and some sparks from the lighter, you get a flame struck. 

You stay close and hold up your hands as it begins to lick. You settle down on your butt and hug yourself under the blanket. You watch the flames swirl and your vision blurs with little orbs of colour.  

The questions don’t matter. The answers won’t make a difference. Why are you here? Where is here? No, it’s useless. Just like from the first moment you saw him. You know now, it wasn’t the first time he saw you. 

You hang your head and let it pour out of you. The fear throttles you so you’re choking on your sobs. Your body wracks and your skull throbs. You don’t want to live like this but you’re too afraid to die. 

You wade up from the dregs of your grief and the room comes clear again. You’re on your side before the glowing embers. You sit up and put another piece of wood on the pile then get up. You stagger around to the bedroom, your feet moving without your mind’s intent. 

You go to the corner. You stare at the shelf. The pictures, the stolen parts of your existence, the shank of hair... is gone? You saw him put it there. Oh well. Good riddance. 

You shudder and squint over the images. There’s one from over a year ago. The last time you saw your family. You shake your head and back up. No. No. You didn’t know for that long. Well, how could you expect something like this? 

You sniffle and leave the room. You can’t stay in there. Not with that shrine? Altar? You don’t even know what. 

You take a stiff pillow from the couch and lower yourself in front of the fireplace again. You close your eyes but you don’t know if you’ll be able to sleep. There isn’t much else to do. 

Time skews into a haze. It’s dark, then light, and dark again. Your stomach gurgles but by the time you get the food warm, you’re too sick to eat more than a few bites. As the days wilt by, a stench roils from your body. 

The packets help you track the day, even as you miss some, you try to keep some order in your mind. On Day Four, you dare to try the faucet. The tub pours out steaming water. You adjust it before you sink in. It’s as close to peace as you’ve found. 

As the water stagnates around your body, you can’t help but think. When will he come back? Will he be back? You don’t think he’s out there having fun and frolicking. You could tell by his attire, by the marks of death on that shield. 

You let the water go cold then drain it. You pull the same nightgown on, even as it reeks. You just need something on. You reclaim the blanket and your perch before the fireplace. You wish you had something warm to drink. Coffee or tea. Nothing could ever make this place anything less than a prison, but you wouldn’t mind some comfort. 

[blingblong55]

Edge of chaos-141

Photo credit: @ave661

Based on a request: Hihi! I saw your posts and I'm currently hyperfixated on reading all of them lol but I was wondering if you could do a fic where the reader is an adrenaline junky. Like they love adrenaline, even the adrenaline that comes with getting hurt. Also they have a low pain tolerance that allows them to practically do anything. (Maybe reader takes them on a trip where they hop and run on roofs and stuff, doing stunts) Also their reaction to the pure "adrenaline smile"? (Basically a huge crazed smile some people do in the middle of a adrenaline rush) Thank you!! Have an amazing day! - mellow ---- GN!Reader, adrenaline junkie!reader ----

A/N: Hope you like it, Mellow! <3

The night was inky black, the kind of darkness that shrouded everything and left only the faint glimmers of light from distant street lamps. You thrived in this environment, where shadows became your allies and the silence was a playground for your adrenaline-fueled exploits. You stood on the edge of a rooftop, your heart hammering in your chest with a rhythm that felt almost symphonic.

"Grim, you ready?" Soap's Scottish brogue crackled through your earpiece, laced with a mixture of excitement and concern.

"Always," you replied, a wicked grin spreading across your face. You could feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins, an intoxicating blend of fear and exhilaration. This was your element, something most wouldn't say.

"You're a mad person, ye know that?" Soap chuckled, but his voice couldn't hide the admiration.

You glanced over at Ghost, his skull mask obscured in the darkness but his presence undeniable. He gave a silent nod, a rare gesture of approval. Price and Gaz were stationed below, monitoring your progress. Tonight's mission wasn't just about gathering intel; it was about pushing limits, testing boundaries, and feeding your insatiable hunger for adrenaline.

"Let’s move," you whispered, your voice steady despite the chaotic symphony of sensations within you. With a running start, you leapt across the gap between buildings, the wind rushing past your face, every nerve ending alive and singing with the thrill. You landed with a roll, barely feeling the impact thanks to your remarkably low pain tolerance.

Ghost followed close behind, his movements precise and calculated. Where he was methodical, you were reckless, a perfect balance of chaos and control. Together, you were unstoppable.

"You gettin' this, Price?" you asked through the comms, already lining up your next jump.

"Loud and clear, Grim. Keep your head on a swivel," Price's authoritative tone was a grounding force, but it never dulled your edge.

The rooftop run was a symphony of leaps, rolls, and bounds, each movement a calculated risk that sent spikes of adrenaline through your system. You thrived on it, the near-misses, the heart-stopping moments when you were suspended in mid-air, the grin that stretched across your face, wide and wild.

As you landed a particularly daring jump, Soap's voice crackled in your ear again. "You got that mad adrenaline smile again, Grim. Can practically hear it through the comms."

"Can't help it, Soap. It's too bloody good," you replied, laughter bubbling up from within you. It was true – the rush of adrenaline was more addictive than any drug. It was a high that left you breathless, your senses razor-sharp, every detail around you in vivid clarity.

Ghost's voice broke through your reverie. "Eyes on the prize, Grim. We need that intel."

"Roger that, Ghost," you said, shaking off the euphoria long enough to focus. The mission was paramount, but the thrill? The thrill was what made you who you were. Grim, the adrenaline junkie with a penchant for danger and a smile that could only come from dancing on the edge of chaos. And also the reason why Ghost carried an extra first aid kit.

You reached the target building, a towering structure that seemed to stretch into the night sky. The plan was simple – infiltrate, retrieve the intel, and get out. But simple plans always had a way of becoming complicated.

"Gaz, you in position?" you asked, your voice a hushed whisper.

"In position, Grim. Ready when you are," Gaz's calm demeanour was a perfect counterpoint to your fiery enthusiasm.

You scaled the side of the building with practised ease, your fingers finding purchase on ledges and cracks, your body moving with a grace that came from years of training and an unyielding desire to conquer every challenge. The ascent was a vertical dance, every step a testament to your indomitable spirit.

As you reached the top, you slipped inside through a ventilation shaft, Ghost following silently behind. The interior was a maze of corridors and rooms, but you navigated it with ease, your senses heightened by the constant rush of adrenaline.

Finally, you reached the server room. Ghost began extracting the data, his fingers flying over the keyboard with precision. You kept watch, every nerve in your body tingling with anticipation.

"Extraction point, one minute," Price's voice was a welcome reminder of the ticking clock.

"Copy that," you replied, already planning your escape route. The thrill of the chase, the danger of being caught – it all fed into your addiction, pushing you to move faster, think quicker, and be better.

With the data secured, you and Ghost made your way back to the rooftop, the wind whipping around you as you prepared for the final leg of your journey. The descent was just as exhilarating as the ascent, every leap and bound sending waves of adrenaline through your body.

As you touched down on the ground, Gaz and Soap were there to greet you, their expressions a mix of relief and amusement.

"You're one crazy bugger, Grim," Gaz said, shaking his head with a smile.

"That's what makes them the best," Soap added, patting you on the back.

You grinned, the adrenaline still coursing through you, the high of the night’s exploits leaving you almost giddy. "All in a night's work, lads. All in a night's work."

And as you walked away, you knew you’d chase that feeling again and again, the pure, unadulterated rush of adrenaline that made you feel truly alive.

A/N: to be honest, this was written so long ago it’s so shit now that I’ve reread it

Tags: @liyanahelena @johfaam0 @froggy-anon @goldenmclaren @frizzseaberries @frazie99 @spicypicklesoh @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @enarien @luvecarson @willowaftxn83-87 @saoirse06 @ikohniik @strawberrychita @sae1kie @queen-ilmaree @Llelannie @anonymuslydumb @avidreadee123 @talooolaaloolla @skelletonwitch @bittermajesties @Nyx_Flower @sparky--bunny @honestlyhiswife @ghostwifeyy @konigssultwithghost @the_royal_bee @soapybutt17 @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @mychemichalimalance @marshiely @iruzias @sleepyycatt @noodlezz-bedo @vampsquerade

[letsburnthatbridgewhenwegetthere]

Chaos design symbolism!!!!

Okay so I have so many thoughts about the change in Chaos's design and if don't share them I might just implode. Basically I think about the change in their design denotes a cycle of rebirth and death/ decomposition. In their Hades 1 design they look like this:

I view the amorphous faces as an embodiment of their experiences throughout a long phase in their existence. I would also like to point out in this design they are growing a baby.

This is very similar to the new design, where what I believe the head of Chaos's Hades 1 designs head is growing another baby.

So from this I think that Chaos is a constant state of change and rebirth as a microcosm of the universe under the big crunch theory.

Which basically states that the universe is always expanding until it implodes, creates a subsequent big bang, and continues as such. Based on that the design from Hades 1 would be placed on this timeline towards the end before the implosion, and the Hades 2 design right after the big bang.

Another thing that I find very interesting is that Chaos seems to be materialist in nature as they have elements of their past in both their designs, denoting that creation does not exist in a vacuum. This is done with the faces incorporated into their body, and holding the skull of their previous form respectively.

Gah! I love symbolism!! Of course the deity of creation is a perpetual state of change that reflects a theory of the timeline of the universe while at the same time internally representing their previous selves as an embodiment of the materialist nature of existence!!!!

[thevillainswhore]

Can’t Take My Eyes Off You

Pairing: Stalker!IT/tech!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

(snippets/mentions of Carter Bazien x F!Reader and Ending, Beginnings!Frank x F!Reader)

Summary: Bucky, the IT and technology expert of your office, has been secretly obsessed since the moment he set his sights on sensitive, naive, little you. But, your only fault is your repetitive ability to get your heartbroken by fuck boys. So, naturally, he has to do whatever it takes to make you see he’s perfect for you… right?

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: Stalking, mentions of smut (p in v, male masturbation) violence, grievous bodily harm, dark elements, possessive behaviour, hacking, reader is very naive, Bucky is a hell of a warning here (will add more with the upcoming chapters) PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS - THIS IS A DARK FIC!!!

A/N: We are finally here!! 😭 incase anyone doesn’t remember, I teased this fic a longgg time ago and it makes me so happy to announce its now live 🥹 as mentioned before this is a multi part story - I’m aiming for 3 parts but it could be more with me who knows 🤣 I also changed the my moodboard bc my last one did not include inclusivity and that is the goal here 💗

So now onto my appreciations ❤️ first of all I need to thank @mickeyhenrys for helping with the fic title - she’s a genius and I’m so thankful! Next, I need to thank @sgt-seabass for the help with the IT/cyber security aspect of things - she was absolutely amazing with providing all the information I needed and I’m super grateful for it. And last and certainly not least… my beautiful @rookthorne. my god I can’t even begin to thank you for all the help you’ve given me on this. To beta’ing this fic, helping me a lot with my moodboard even when I was a pain the ass 🤣 and just supporting me in general with my crazy ideas - this fic sprouted from our brainstorming and looking back from then to where this has flourished now is amazing 💗 thank you for being the beautiful person you are and inspiring me to grow as a writer. I love you so much 🥹

Now onto the fic, please enjoy the start of this crazy, wild ride and good luck - you’re gonna need it… 👀

You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.

Bucky glances over at you through the window that seperates the two of you, gushing about your new date already. It took you a week, maybe two, to get over the last guy. And here you were, yet again, in the same conversation with the same co-worker, debating about which dress you were gonna wear tonight. 

Did it matter anyway? 

The same shit happens every time. You go out with a new prize idiot, get laid, wait for them to text you back (spoiler: they never do), and you sit there, crying and wondering where you went wrong. 

It was frustrating. 

You only ever go out with the conventional ‘fuck boy’. The same three-piece suits and quiffed hair that looks like it’s been cemented to their skull with product and arrogance, both in equal measure. 

When were you going to get it? You choose the wrong type of guy, every single time. And yet, you wonder why they never stick around long enough to make things official, or to settle down. 

You were gullible; so naive.

The perfect girl that Bucky has kept his sights set on from that very first day that you begun working in the same office.

That’s when you walked into my life, Angel. 

It wasn’t all that new for it to rain in New York. Heels clicked and splashed through the deep puddles of the pavement, and leather briefcases bumped against each other in the chaos of the crowds as Bucky made his way to work.

He found he didn’t so much mind the repetitive routine – his life had never been exciting. It gave him peace of mind to hear all the usual sounds and to witness the usual frenzied rush from his run down apartment all the way to his office.

 

He liked his job, truly. It’s what he’s always excelled best in and it’s what has kept him in his comfort zone. There was never no real need to talk to people as all communication or pleas for help were addressed in an email. Those who didn’t email always dragged themselves to his office and slammed their technology down on his desk, grunt or curse at him, before primly walking back out again. 

That would anger most people – the blatant disregard for his existence and the treatment similar to that of a scolded dog, but Bucky’s been there for ten years now, and over those many, many days, he had gotten used to it. 

It was a bonus, however, that nobody questioned him once on how he managed to fix every problem with their device with so little information as a curse and a demand to get it working.  

Pushing the door open, Bucky expects to be walking into a normal day at the office. Paying no notice to the hustle and bustle of his colleagues at work.

That is until he’s stopped in his tracks. 

The surprise of seeing the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on; a woman that was sunshine and everything he dreamed of personified standing in the lobby. He watched you speak to anyone that paused to say hello. 

The errant thought of such an innocent bunny smiling for all that gave her attention made his cock twitch in his pants. He wanted to give you that attention that you craved.

Never had he been so entranced by and enamoured in anyone. He thinks he could stay like this forever, almost blown over by his new found obsession that made his hands shake and the whole volume of blood in his body to rush to his rapidly swelling cock.

That obsession called and rooted for him to take the few steps and cover the distance to reach you, when he was abruptly shunted forward by another body slamming into his back. 

He spun around, ready to curse the person for being so oblivious, when he saw Brock. “Hey man, why the fuck were you just stand- Oh, I take it you’ve seen the new hire, hot isn’t she?” 

The predatory smile on Brock’s mouth physically made him recoil.  Looking Brock up and down, clear disgust in the sneer and glare of his expression, Bucky turned and stalked away towards the stairs in a bid to head to his office. 

His closest safety net, the office where he spent his days, came into view and he slammed open the door, only to fall back onto it, his breath coming in sharp pants. Wildly, he glances around him and then out of the blinds that shroud his office from onlookers. Nobody was paying attention to his moment of crisis and doubt, except, he finds you glancing over your cubicle wall. 

You send a small wave, one of which Bucky can’t believe is directed at him, and you smile broadly – a kind gesture. He can’t remember the last time someone smiled at him like that. 

Bucky hastily looks away and strides over to his desk, adjusting the sudden tent of his slacks before he turns to sit in his desk chair to start his day. 

Who the fuck is she? 

The day starts slow, each task as mundane as the last, when you finally get a chance to talk to Sasha, your favourite co-worker. “I really think he’s going to be the one this time.” You can’t stop grinning, wiggling in your seat from excitement to be going out with Frank this weekend – the party that you met him at still fresh in your mind. 

“Girl, you said that last time! With... What was his name again?” Sasha groans, her chair swivelling so she could face you fully. You stare at her with a furrow in your brow while she stumbles to remember the name. “Chad? No, I don’t think that was it… Chris?” 

“His name was Carter.” There's heartbreak evident in the way your voice turns to a solemn whisper when speaking of him, and your eyes start to water as you begin to think about how your previous date left you high and dry after your night together – only to ghost you the next morning. Your lips start to tremble at the memory. “And I thought we said we weren’t going to speak about him anymore.” 

Sasha notices your dejected expression. “Shit honey, l’m sorry. I just want you to be happy.” You nod once, wiping your cheek with your palm. “Car-” She hesitates, and then frowns. “He-who-shall-not-be-named was a rich asshole, he doesn’t deserve you and he can choke on a dick.”

The crass statement shocks you. “Sasha!” you admonish, glancing around the office for anyone milling about that may have overheard. Although you were never one to bad mouth, you couldn’t help the small giggles spilling out at her vulgar words. 

Sasha’s abrupt and scandalous nature has always been the exact opposite to your docile character, but she was the first true friend you had made in the office – always looking out for you, taking care of you, and with your doe-eyed persona, the men can’t help but desire to have a piece of you. 

It is a blessing that she always knew how to pick you back up when you were down, no matter how many times you would come to her in tears over the same problem. 

“Anyway, I promise this one is different,” you promise. The sadness that gripped you a second before fades with the humorous nature of your friend. Sasha shoots you a look. “I didn’t even match with him on Tinder! We met at that party–the one I told you about, Daphne’s?”

“I remember,” Sasha murmurs, nodding. 

The memory flashes across your mind, and you shake your head slightly. “He looked so silly with the little tiara on his head. He came up to me and we talked a little–said I looked really pretty and that we should meet up sometime,” you explain, almost imploringly – you desperately want her to understand that it was a good thing. “It’s what you wanted, isn’t it–for me to get myself out there?”

Pride makes your voice strong, unwavering in it’s conviction. Stepping out of your your social circle is a huge step, and by the softening in Sasha’s gaze, she thinks so, too. 

The night you met Frank swirls in your mind, clouding it as you stare dreamily at the wall beside Sasha’s head.

The party was in full swing – loud cheers and clinking bottles and glasses filled the night air, while the pounding bass music rattled your chest. Your friend, Daphne, had left to go smoke in the corner, abandoning you to your own devices by the pool. 

Fairy lights had been strung up from pole to pole above you and you were admiring them, when Frank caught you by surprise.

“Hey doll,” he greeted, and you glanced at the six foot Prince Charming in a wool coat and tiny tiara. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around before. What’s a pretty little thing like you doing all alone in the corner?” 

Frank had thrown you a dashing smile and you found you couldn’t maintain eye contact with his intense gaze – you swore you fell in love on the spot.

To say you were flustered would be an understatement. “M-Me?” 

Frank almost looked amused. “Well, just between me and you dollface… I don’t see anyone else nearly as pretty as you here.”  

As the night went on, Frank continued to sweep you off your feet. You genuinely had no clue how desperate you made him over your sweet little dress riding up your thighs when you fiddled with the the hem. Or when you started to feel shy and you crossed your arms to try and hide yourself – only to squeeze your tits together. It gave him the perfect image of how they would look bouncing up and down on his cock. 

The way he stared at you so sweetly, acting as the perfect gentleman made the butterflies in your stomach swoop and flutter up a storm. You had planned a date with him at the end of the night and you were beyond excited. 

Snapping out of your daydream, you focus back into the present, aware enough of your surroundings to see Sasha clicking her fingers sharply in front of your face making you blink. “Hello? There she is!” She sits back and rolls her eyes. “Jesus girl, I was calling your name for ages. Where did that cute head of yours wander off to this time?” 

“Sorry! I just got caught up in Frank again,” you sigh, dreamily. 

Sasha scoffs. “C’mon, he can’t be that cute. Show me a photo of him.”

You clap your hands and squeal, rushing to search through your bag for your phone to show her just how lucky you are to have someone as wonderful as Frank interested in you. Scrolling through the photos you’d taken that night, you finally find the one you couldn’t stop admiring; him with that silly tiara sitting atop his soft, fluffy hair that you could imagine running your hands through all day, wrapped in a snug jacket with a cigarette between his fingers and blowing out smoke the side of his perfect lips. 

His eyes fixed intently on one thing. You. 

The image sends a shiver down your spine, and before you get too carried away, you turn your screen to face Sasha. 

After a whole minute of considertory silence, she finally speaks up, her voice aweful. “Holy fucking shit, babe. I wanna lick his face.” 

Your jaw drops. “Sasha, oh my god, you can’t just say that!” Laughter threatens to bubble over and your cheeks heat in response.

“Watch me,” Sasha teases, and you both dissolve into laughing fits.

Bucky is seething. He doesn’t think his teeth could be grating together any harder; grinding to dust until his jaw clicks. While your laugh is melodic to his ears, and his heart leaps and bounds at the sound of your voice, even muted from his vantage point of his office, he saw how upset you looked when your co-worker mentioned him. 

Carter. 

Even thinking his name gets his blood boiling. But, he wills himself to calm down. To just breathe. There was no point in getting worked up over that spoiled prick anymore, he’s dealt with after what he did to you –  the very lengths Bucky had to go to get that video Carter took on his phone deleted. 

You, the not so innocent whore on your knees for someone who wasn’t him, begging for Carter’s dick down your throat until you were suffocating; saliva drooling from your chin and dripping down onto your heaving tits.

Bucky can feel his cock twitching in his trousers at the thought of you being so submissive. Pity floods him – you didn’t even realise how Carter had not only ignored your texts that morning, but he had also planned to send that precious gift you had so willingly given to him, to all of his friends and ultimately ruin your life.  Leaving it in shambles for you to pick up the debris of your professional career and sociality with so little care.

Bucky wasn’t the most pleased with you after seeing that video in the first place. It was such a foolish decision to trust and allow that sleazebag to film you. 

He took it upon himself to remove every trace of the video. After all, he was a good person, what a man should be.  

Such a good man that he paid a visit to Carter, leaving him with a few of his own gifts. A black eye, fractured skull, and a break in his right femur that may, or may not have, resulted in him taking residence in the local intensive care unit fighting for his life.

“All I want is for you to be happy. And who better to make you happy than me?” Bucky wonders quietly at his desk, the door to his office wide open so he can hear you chatting to your friend. “I would treat you so good–dote on you every hour of every day, never let you out of my sight, either.”

The next train of thought is one he will not voice aloud, but the vision of him fucking you hard and rough, just as you deserve, until you cried for more – for all of what he could give. 

“You’re better off with me,” Bucky grumbles. His lips turn down into a grimace and he glares at the cubicle wall that separated you from him. “You just don’t know it yet, bunny.”

Nevertheless, here you are, flaunting your latest boy toy off to your friend. 

The pencil he’s been tapping absentmindedly on his desk stops suddenly and small pieces of wood splinters by the second until it snaps in half,  almost capturing your attention – head whipping side to side in search of the noise until you give up and go back to your conversation. 

Pain laces through his hand when the wood scratches his palm, reddening lines etching themselves in retaliation for his daydreaming.

He’s got to be more careful with his frustrations. 

You have hardly ever looked in his direction, let alone spoken a single word to him. Why would you? Not many people did, if he is honest with himself. His shoulder-length dark hair that is always covered by the same black cap in combination with his piercing and brooding stare didn’t give off the best impression, or invite conversation. 

Bucky was not a popular man, even thinking back to his early school years. He was always considered the loner, the nerd, the creep. No sisters or brothers to grow up with; distant parents who paid no mind to him or bothered to foster and nuture his affinities. 

The lonliness of his childhood paved the way to the depths of his desperation. Intelligence was something he had an abundance of, and weaponising the skills of his cyber skills was an underutilised talent of every one of his past employs. 

It never assuades or lessens the burden of need for affection. A craving that naws like a festering wound in his barren heart, for something that could make up for the miserable nights of self reflection and doubt; wondering why he was never enough for his parents, or popular at school where the girls would fawn over him.

Something for his own; to be just his and unable to be taken from him, not by anybody. 

I’m right here, Angel. You just don’t ever see me. 

Bucky has done nothing short of pine after you from afar; stealing glances and furtive wanders to get close in any way he can. 

He knows you wouldn’t go out of your way to talk to him – you don’t run in the same circles and you are definitely not socially compatible. That doesn’t stop him from imagining how soft your skin must be, or how flawlessly your body would melt against his as he railed you into his bed. Your heavenly little cries of his name, breathless chants pleading him to “Keep going!” and “Don’t stop!” never leave his mind. They fuel his needy desires at night until he can get the real thing, whimpering your name until his voice is hoarse as he fucks his fist over and over and over – the thought that it was your hand or your pillowy lips guiding him into ecstacy pushes him to the very brink of insanity. 

The dreams will do for now, he thinks privately as he stares at you through the glass pane of his office wall, straight to your cubicle, the sound of your laughter echoing down the hall and muffled through the glass. He’s managed for the last six months since he first saw you, it’s fine. 

Impatience chips away at his resolve, though, and his fuse is shortening by the day.  No matter what it takes, no matter who you think is good for you right now, Bucky will have you, and when he does… He’s not ever letting you go.

[baristabastard]

Her. Like just her. She came to serve and she succeeded. The laminar? armor that still has a cinched waste just like most plate armor. That little buckler the she definitely has murdered people with. The fact that she has armored thigh highs and hoops despite being a no nonsense murder godess?!?

Also, she really looks like her mom. Her hair is very similar and those two floating things evoke the same hairstyle without actual committing to it. Her little round titty plates and the moon mirror the three skulls on Nyx's dress and even her gaze evokes the same intensity. Nyx I think looks arrogant, regal. She stares straight at you daring you to offend her. Nemesis also has an arrogance but instead of the regal bearing she has a focused fury.

It's honestly remarkable how many elements they share. I'm sure if I compared the other children of Nyx, there would be similarities, but this feels much more than just a few details. They both have chokers, but Nyx's only covers half her throat. It's the kind of thing a queen wears. Nemesis's gorget (fancy words) completely covers the throat. Maybe this shows a lack of a real voice or a hesitancy to speak out.

I wonder how Nemesis truly feels about Nyx? Where I am in the game she's expressed anger but with all these details I think she craves a love that was maybe never shown. The fact that she models her dress on Nyx. Wearing a crown in with the same purple in the same spot. The hints of gold on her armor trim. Her hair being up in the same way. It all makes me wonder if Nemesis resents those who live in the house of hades. From context clues Nyx seems to have acted more like Chaos when she was younger and now that she's showing more warmth what if Nemesis, the embodiment of revenge, can't let go?

[kit-williams]

Hoof Care

Yes I was really thinking of Baldamort's voice for Drar (Watch his video on the Master of Executions and well you can probably figure out where I got Drar's voice from)

Husbandry tag list: @egrets-not-regrets @liar-anubiass-blog @barn-anon @bleedingichorhearts @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

thank you @squishyowl for the 40k themed dividers

It was that time of the month again where you'd get a call to go to them they paid you quiet a bit and of course you weren't the only person going... it was always a big big event. You head to the Iron Warrior's base near the city... most Chaos Space Marines' don't have bases but their loyalist counterparts do... though Iron Warriors are an exception not a norm. Though you weren't sure as the Iron Warriors didn't have too much friction with their "traitor" selves? You didn't understand nor really bother too.

The norm would be the fact that there is a Night Lord base being built somewhere given that there were now enough loyalist night lords demanding it. But you made sure your tools were sharp and everything was ready... you knew the only downside of the Iron Warriors was the fact that both loyalist and traitor elements kept pushing and vying for power within their own... faction?

As you backed your truck in and got out you could hear his crooning... he was old had that slightly withered lit to his voice as it croaked out of him as if he had ruined his vocal cords time and time again. "Missy so nice of you to join us." Drar the Warpcutter spoke and if you remembered he said he was the leader of a warband known as the Malefactors of Sin.

"Lord Drar... and hello Helios." You politely said as his Master of Executions followed. The big man behind him looked at you and you swallowed... you didn't get the feel good vibes everyone else got. Your eyes flicked to their weapons... to the skulls up their belt... and you had a feeling Drar enjoyed the fact you were afraid of them. "Where is Vasso..." You ask for the current "chapter master" and you watch Drar wave his hand.

"Busy. The child is going to work himself to death at this rate and I... took the liberty of playing host for him." He says with a grin, "But enough pleasantries... you're the final one to arrive." You flinch as his massive hand pushes against your back and you move into the hanger.

Chaos Space Marines of countless chapters and warbands were here all highly mutated. Heavy hooves clipped and clopped against the floor as centaurs made their way to the designated zone. You headed over to the other ferriers as Drar trilled his goodbye and Helios just gave a nod. You could see where other space marines were watching and learning how to take care of their mutated brothers and cousins as in the far corner you could see iron warriors guarding feral marines that took the offer for maintained care but do not want humans touching them. You could understand as it took you a long time to get over the wrongness of your clients.

At least they behaved better than horses, the massive hooves were clipped and trimmed even polished if they wanted too. The utterly massive Black Legionary stallion... Troc was his name, he would have been such a pretty black horse, brought his own shoes... shiny brass things. He liked his hooves painted a nice solid black.

You could hear Adamatar bellowing as the white minotaur had hurt one of his hooves and so trying to get him to behave enough to put a block on his hoof was feeling like an impossible task. You could spy long tails wagging as fur coats were being brushed... a canine centaur of a Night Lord was half asleep as he was getting his jet black fur coat groomed and nails trimmed on his paws. You trimmed the frog of Troc's hooves just shaping his hoof as he was currently gushing about his bonded... a little girl who had a habit of calling him "pony" or "horsey" when she got overly excited and also calling him "Truck".

The shiny iron horseshoes of a bulky draft of an Iron warrior caught your eye. They certainly liked to feel pretty.... you shiver as a heavily mutated space marine lumbers past... organized chaos of it all and you're getting paid enough that it makes you not have to worry about the slower times of the year.

You could see someone with their body leaning into a massive stomach maw just cleaning the teeth of the marine. You stop looking as you hammer in his shoe and work on cutting the nails and then applying the black hoof polish.... rinse and repeat.

Sure they cooperated more then an actual animal but it was still a lot of hard work. "Hey!" You snapped at someone's apprentice. "Don't just walk behind them!" You said pointing out the fact that they were just walking right behind the centaurs. Which if he was working with actual horses was bad practice.

"They won't kick." They countered back.

"Yeah but they still can't see you and when you work with an actual horse they will kick if you walk right behind you. Give them the same berth as you would an actual horse because if one of these boy's kicks you're going to die." You huff as you resume working on the hooves of the Iron Warrior as someone was working on his horns... it was sometimes easier to do multiple tasks on the same marine as they kept still.

Lunch was provided and it was nice... it felt normal to have that lull in working as you grabbed a coffee as you worked in shifts... went around inspecting other's techniques... watching how some of them were teaching their apprentices, in various fields, or how they were teaching the Astartes on how to take care of their own. Sometimes a feral marine would be brave and try to get taken care of by one of us "mortals" but you never volunteered you had plenty of Astartes asking for you to work on them personally.

But the day blurred on by till you were getting handed a stack of cash of a few thousand dollars with the hope that you would come back same time next month and as well as the cavate that if something changed they would inform you. Again you see Drar as you head back to your trunk and a cup of coffee, that looks so small in his hands, is given to you. "What's this for?"

"Job well done?" He croons.

"Ah yes the usual hush coffee so I don't tattle on Vasso of you playing chapter master huh?" You say ignoring the scowl on his face as you sip the coffee, "or... is it hush coffee to keep me from tattling again to Vasso because you enjoy scaring people?"

"Mouthy little mortal aren't you." He hisses as you cow slightly, far too tired to not be filled with dread as he moves far too smoothly for something so big. He spat to the side, "But something like that."

"And like usual I'm going to be the last one to leave because you like chatting." You say tiredly as you drink the hot brew that made you feel tired. You had enough for a hotel in the city for tonight though... beds were always available here at the fortress. "I have a feeling you're going to chat me up so long I might just have to spend the night."

Drar laughed, it was hardly a pleasant sounding thing... it was dark and ominous... it was downright an evil sounding thing that ended rolling in his chest till it quieted. "You look exhausted."

You just drank the coffee to prevent yourself from making a 'captain obvious' joke, "I might stay tonight or at least get a few hours of shut eye."

"Then let me play the good host once more." He crooned and you just locked your car after placing your tools inside... just a few hours of sleep then you'd make the drive home.

[aois-amaterasu-painting]

Interpreting the symbolism of the GazettE - Through Darkness to Enlightenment

The DOGMA cover is unconscious imagery. The Priestess in the eye of the storm. The only colors used are the alchemical ones (black, white, gold, red).

In Jungian psychology and alchemy Nigredo or blackness refers to the initial stage of the alchemical process, symbolizing the darkness, chaos, and dissolution that precede transformation and rebirth. It represents a state where the individual confronts their shadow aspects, unconscious fears, and repressed emotions. This stage is characterized by a sense of disintegration and descent into the abyss - depths of the psyche, where the old self must die.

The Nesthead is blackened out to signify that we are entering this 1st stage of the alchemical process. However, she is The Priestess who will come out of this transformative process as signified by her 7 pointed star crown. She (the soul) is surrendering to the darkness, knowing that she is immortal. To quote Ruki in Dogma - "The rite I must face is cloaked in darkness and isolation - Only there will truth be found" . Her right hand is dissolving the repressed trauma and the left has a tight grip on the demons (Solve et Coagula).

Moving on to the next image - it is the The Redefinition Tour cover art from right before the Dogma era. The Goddess of Death. The darkness is Feminine, the creator and destroyer. She oversees the Dark Night of the Soul process as the ruler of the Underworld. She is Yin. She is Izanami in Shinto, although this image is left quite ambiguous and could easily be seen as a death goddess of any other religion.

The Dogmatic Final poster. Skulls, crows, rot, decomposition and dying flowers all represent the alchemical Blackness stage. It is depression, isolation, pain, helplessness and despair. Choosing to embrace the Shadow - what is ugly, rotting, dying, unwanted and repressed. These are all common themes in Ruki's lyrics. A faceless priest represents the loss of identity while going through this sacred process. He serves as a mediator between God and the congregation. Ruki wore a priest's Stole throughout the whole Dogma era.

Dogma is the Dark Night of the Soul album. Heaviest sound, richest in symbolism. Ruki is both the priest conducting the purification and the one being purified.

Blemish lyrics: "I want to be reborn. Leave me alone. I had to stifle my cries when I caught sight of my own twisted shadow.[...]In darker dreams..(Help me) A goddess speaks to me.. and it seems.. (There’s no way).. I cannot see the light."

Let's analyze each symbol from the Dogma video separately:

(1) - starting from the bottom the Menorah is a symbol of universal enlightenment. Going up from that we have alchemical sulfur (evaporation, expansion, and dissolution), then the 4 elemental symbols, then Venus signifying the Anima (Jungian term) on the right. Simplified version of Bhavachakra mandala (which they use again while performing Wasteland live in the Dogmatic tour final) on the left. The Hexagrams in the center represent unification of the opposites (Light and Shadow, Yin & Yang). The blacked out face is the dissolution of identity (ego).

The image as a whole is reminiscent of the High Priestess in tarot (the Qabalistic path of Gimel, ruled by the Moon, which is the only light in the Dark Night). The black Pillar of Severity and white Pillar of Mercy behind him.

(2) - Light is Consciousness and Shadow is all that is repressed and unwanted. Unification of these opposites is the goal. Upside down triangle is Yin. I'm interpreting this as there can be no enlightenment with Greed. It matches well with the societal critiques Ruki often expresses with his lyrics.

(3) - In Buddhism there's a saying no mud - no lotus. It is a symbol of transmutation. The Moon is Albedo (whiteness)- the insights you gain when embracing and examining your Shadow. And the Orthodox cross at the top is a symbol of salvation and redemption in Christian mysticism. It represents the transformative power of Christ's (Sun) sacrifice and the possibility of spiritual rebirth and renewal for humanity. The vertical bar of the cross is sometimes interpreted as the axis mundi, or cosmic axis, which connects the earthly realm with the divine realm. It is the path of ascent from the material world to the spiritual world.

(4) - Is again the hexagram but with the Leviathan Cross in the center, which is another symbol for sulfur. Interestingly, it is put over the censer - the burning of incense is often associated with purification rituals in mysticism. The fragrant smoke is believed to cleanse the sacred space and purify the participants, preparing them for spiritual practices or encounters with the divine. Sulfur in alchemy represents the soul of all materials and living things. Sulfur is synonymous with consciousness and the expansion of thought. To the ancient alchemist, it’s properties are dryness, heat, masculinity, evaporation, expansion, and dissolution.

(5) - Around the circle we have symbols of different religions - starting with the top it's the Menorah, Hamsa hand, Shinto shrine, Ohm, something with the cross, Celtic and Scandinavian symbols and an 8pointed star. I would interpret this as saying all the different religions of the world have the same goal that is enlightenment.

Moving on.

The nest symbolism is interesting. The main character on the Dogma cover is called Nesthead and there is a lot of time spent showing the forming of a nest during Coda live. Coda lyrics: "If I have to forget my true self in order to seize the whiteness, then give me blackness deeper than anything. Beneath this patch of sky, flowers cover the soil where corpses sleep. The beautiful deformity proceeds towards the dazzling darkness, the end and the beginning."

Nests could symbolize the concept of home or refuge, creating a secure place in the living darkness. In Buddhism, the idea of finding refuge in the Three Jewels (Buddha, Dharma, Sangha) is central. Just as a bird seeks safety and shelter in its nest, Buddhists seek refuge in the teachings of the Buddha, the Dharma (the path to awakening), and the Sangha (community). Nests, being temporary structures built by birds for the purpose of nurturing their young, can symbolize impermanence and the transient nature of existence. In Buddhist teachings, impermanence (anicca) is one of the Three Marks of Existence, highlighting the fundamental nature of all conditioned phenomena to arise and pass away. Reflecting on it teaches about the importance of non-attachment, letting go of clinging to things that are ultimately fleeting. Nests are created through the efforts of birds gathering materials and constructing them meticulously. This could symbolize the interconnectedness of all beings and the importance of cooperation and collaboration. In Buddhism, the concept of interdependence (pratityasamutpada) underscores the idea that all phenomena are interconnected and dependent on each other for their existence. Buddhism emphasizes living in harmony with nature and cultivating respect and reverence for all living beings.

I interpret the Nesthead herself as Ruki's Anima (in Jungian psychology Anima is what guides a man through the wilderness of collective unconscious). It's rather obvious Ruki identifies himself with her because of the similarity of poses, clothing and the gorgeous gold armlets they both wear.

Moving on to the Dogmatic Final Live:

The Wasteland live visuals are very interesting. (Keep in mind it is played after Goddess and they had t-shirt merch saying "Goddess from the Wasteland").

Buddha is depicted headless which reminds me of the goddess Vajrayogini. Her severed head form (Ucheyma) represents the annihilation of the ego (remember the Dogma lyrics "I'll be a brain-dead god"?).

The many hands of the deity suggest it's ability to engage in multiple activities simultaneously for the benefit of sentient beings. This may include granting blessings, bestowing teachings, offering protection, and guiding others along the path. The Trishul (trident) represents the overcoming of the three poisons of ignorance, attachment, and aversion.

Vajrayogini is a personification of the cognitive function of the transformative power within consciousness. Her iconography symbolizes the transmutation of negative emotions and defilements into enlightened qualities, she is wisdom and compassion. She is associated with the transmission of esoteric teachings. Her color is blood red and her fire burns the Shadow. She is often depicted within a hexagram. Something that the GazettE also used during Sludgy Cult live:

Moving on to NINTH:

The Ninth cover is so fascinating because the veil makes me think of Binah, the pose and child makes me think of Mary & the Holy Ghost. But the scarlet colour screams Babalon.

Binah sephirah is the dark, receptive womb of creation, often associated with the color black, which symbolizes the hidden, formless potential from which all manifest reality emerges.

The veiled aspect of Binah is the concealment of divine mysteries and the incomprehensibility of the divine essence to human understanding. It suggests that the divine wisdom is veiled from ordinary perception and can only be understood through intuitive insight and spiritual revelation.

Babalon the Scarlet Woman in western esotericism is the Qabalistic path of Daleth (Translates to door, gate. This Path is the door by which the spirit enters the world. It is the third and final path to exist entirely above the Abyss (Da'at) in the realm of spirit). It is the path that connects Binah and Chokmah sephiroth (The 2 of them would be similar to Izanami and Izanagi in Shinto as the mother and father of all existence or Yin/Yang).

Daleth is also the Venusian Empress card in tarot. She is associated with fertility and pregnancy. Bab (as in Babalon or Babylon) in ancient Hebrew means Gate of God. This is the womb and Star Gate from which you are reborn as your true enlightened self (Rubedo/redness).

I always think Babylon's taboo is a reference to this. The "Ade due Damballa" chant repeated in that song is from Chucky and translates to: "Give me the power, I BEG OF YOU". I see it as asking Babalon to let you Cross the Abyss. However this is just my interpretation, the lyrics are quite obscure. But look at Ruki performing it live with the red laser to the heart. So reminiscent of the album cover art:

Moving on to MASS and Blinding Hope:

The doves. In Roman mythology, doves were sacred to Venus. The dove's association with Venus can symbolize the divine aspect of love, representing unconditional love, compassion, and harmony. In mystical traditions, love is often seen as a unifying force that connects all beings with the divine source.

Blinding Hope lyrics: "This darkness blinds out our eyes. Crying out for a change, we take all this hope and fight. Come back to the light"

Venus is linked with themes of transformation and renewal, particularly in her role as the Morning Star (lucifer or Lucy) heralding the dawn (coming out of the Abyss). The dove's symbolism of purity and renewal reflects the potential for spiritual rebirth and awakening.

The Mass cover is a dream-like collage of imagery from the collective unconscious. Many unconscious parts have been integrated - I interpret the panther as tamed instincts. The fire is burning the Shadow. Death goddess is still there, but no longer a central figure, instead of holding a severed head, her hands are in prayer position. The work of contemplating Maranasati ("mindfulness of death" in Buddhism) is done. The cube is from the DIM cover but it's empty and clear unlike back then, when it had someone trapped inside. Lyrics from DIM scene: "We chase away the crows that gather around us. Their squawking cries ceasing, until every one of them has fled. Our utopia is so twisted and distorted that we have to sew it back together before it unravels".

The upside down pyramid is recurring image since the Magnificent Malformed tour, it is another depiction of the Feminine Yin and the subconscious.

Nox is the primordial goddess of the Night in Roman mythology. Nox lyrics: "Chased by silence. The drowning answers are always beautiful. What is left behind. Lamenting over common asuras".

(Common asuras suggest a broad existential/spiritual lamentation over the universal experience of grappling with desires, attachments, and the inherent suffering of existence.)

There is calm and serenity in the Mass cover image - compared to the storm and heaviness of Dogma. It's still Night but there is a lot of light. It is no longer crows surrounding our vehicle but the peaceful doves. (Although the crows are still there). All the pieces are gathered (the Shadow emotions are transmuted and the knowledge is acquired). Now we just need to finish the alchemical process. The gas station (with it's sign being the only scarlet red thing in the picture (the Red goddess is fueling our journey forward)) is the last stop before arriving at the destination.

The red Mass Final poster makes me think of the path to Rubedo/Redness and the end of the individuation process. In Jung's words: "the Self...embraces ego-consciousness, shadow, anima, and collective unconscious in indeterminable extension. As a totality, the self is a coincidentia oppositorum; it is therefore bright and dark and yet neither"

Alchemy, individuation, enlightenment and crucifixion-rebirth of Christ ultimately mean the same thing.

The symbol of Self and the astrological Sun is a circle with a black dot in the center. The dot is the ego but the self encompasses it, as well as all the other elements, it is whole. The path towards this wholeness is a spiral.

Which brings me to Ruki's IG posts (some from as early as 2013):

(1) Spiral out - keep going. It's all individuation symbolism and alchemical colors. (2) Bowie was known for being really into Thelema, (where Babalon is the main goddess) especially during his most successful years. Ruki is a huge Bowie fan and has posted about him multiple times. Pic3 is from Black Moral Rad - again the Sun symbol in the center is for individuation, and at the bottom - The Sun and Moon are are opposites that need to be reunited. Pic4 is the Unkle - War Stories album cover. The most famous song on it is called Burn my Shadow, quite straightforwardly referring to Shadow as a Jungian term. (I really wanted to include these because I was listening a lot to both Bowie and this Unkle album during the time he was posting about them and the symbolism ties nicely to what I talked about earlier)

In the Mass tour final DVD teaser:

Pitch black night that we are moving through - doves heralding a new dawn - spiraling in Redness.

The Pale lyrics: "The dusk is disappearing, the shadow creaks in sorrow, until it disappears in my heart. The spinning night grows pale, as I embrace the meaning I’ve been looking for."

Both Ninth and Mass are a continuation of Dogma. We see Babalon for the 1st time in early Dogma era- on the 13th anniversary announcement. We see her hat from the Ninth cover on the 13th anniversary poster. The car and the panther from Mass cover 1st appeared during Ninth (the car in the Ninth limited edition book and the panther during the tour):

And finally the Mass Final DVD cover:

Pic 1 - A leap of faith. Releasing the need for control and surrendering to the divine, trusting the higher power. The circular red hue around the car and doves indicate the Goddess' presence. Water and sea represent the depths of the unconscious mind and its mysteries, as well as the interconnectedness of all life. The water where we are falling has a circular red spot which looks like the Japanese flag. The red in the Japanese flag is called "circle of the sun" so it's referencing both the journey to Self as well as foreshadowing the next album which we know will be heavily influenced by traditional Japanese culture. (They also had a huge Japanese flag during the live)

Falling lyrics: "To be reborn again, I’m gonna fall"

Pic 2 - Submersion, completion, coming back to the source. Boundary dissolution, merging of individual identity with the collective consciousness. Transformation, both spiritually and emotionally. A state of unity and integration is achieved. Rubedo signals alchemical success and the end of the Great Work. The way "TheFinal" is written looks like "TheEnd" at the end of a movie. And if we consider the Redefinition tour (2014) as the intro to Dogma (after all that's where Dogma documentary starts) - it has been a 10 year long journey leading up to this point of finality. Part 2

Part 3

[astra-ravana]

Personal Correspondences

My own personal correspondences for anyone who's curious. This was fun to do, I recommend it to all the magickal folk, at least as a self-exploration exercise.

Witch name: Astra Ravana

Titles: Goblin Witch, Trash Wizard, Priestess of Dark Dwellers

Origins: Irish Celt, Navajo, Italian/Sicilian

Colors: Purple, blue, red, grey, teal, black

Numbers: 42, 11, 27, 9, 4

Herbs: Saffron, amber, blue lotus, lavender, sunflower, fly agaric, dandelion, jasmine, sandalwood, bittersweet, sulphur, patchouli

Crystals: Labradorite, moldavite, tanzanite, indigo gabbro, charoite, lapis lazuli, rutilated quartz, sapphire, pietersite, garnet, blue apatite

Element: Fire (storm/void)

Planets: Pluto, Mars, Uranus, Neptune

Zodiac: Aries, Pisces, Sagittarius

Tarot: The Hermit, The Moon

Metal: Copper, rose gold, silver

Dates: April 2nd, November 11th, Friday the 13th

Animals: Spiders, snakes, opossums, cats, crows, owls, foxes, insects

Domains: Art magick, chaos, divination, spirit work, channeling, necromancy, fire magick, truth seeking, supernatural entities, energy work, intuition/psychic ability, shadow integration

Offerings: Nicotine, Blue Monster, canabis, crystals and gems, journals, art supplies, jewelry, coins, trinkets, bones, skulls, mushrooms and herbs, stickers, cursed objects, blades, creepy plushies, books

Sigil and symbol:

[genericpuff]

Do you have any recommendations for comics on tapas? I'm rather new to the app so I wondered if you had any. Sorry if someone already asked!

Oh, so many! Tapas was one of my OG homes waaay back in the day, when I was still getting into drawing comics (back then it was gag-a-days). I spent a lot of time reading comics on there and it was one of my first introductions to comic platforms in general (next to SmackJeeves, RIP).

Rock and Riot - 1950's LGBTQ+ gangster teenagers getting into shenanigans and turf wars. Very cute and fun and adorable <3

Monster Pop! - Monster girls who are besties! This one has some real gorgeous art especially if you like the original vibes of S1 LO, lots of bright beautiful colors and lineless shapes. The creator of this comic, mayakern, now develops comfortable and eco-friendly skirts with her wife and pals for plus-sized folks! (they have pockets!)

A BETTER PLACE - Young girl Hannah and her little brother Theo find something cool in the woods. Children becoming gods. This was one of those comics that had some REALLY cool "you had to be there" time travel elements that aren't quite as immersive in hindsight (I was one of those people who were there and DAMN it was awesome), but it's still absolutely worth the read and it operates as a sort of prequel to another one of Harry Bogosian's comics on the platform.

Fail by Error - This comic is long since done with, its creator having moved on to bigger things, but at one point in time, this was the titan series on Tapas, before the platform became predominantly BL's and isekais. Fail by Error was truly one of the best of the best of Tapas-hosted comics from its golden era of comedy comics. Also the creator made art for me once and I still have it! <3

(my babieees <3)

RandoWis - funny gag strip is funny ! He also draws an MMO-themed comic that - coincidentally - when I double checked, looks like it stopped updating in 2021 until two days ago. So yeah, good time to check that one out too!

Undying Happiness - Naomi takes a chance on love and decides to meet up with a guy she met online. He turns out to not look like the guy in the photos in the most hilariously absurd way.

Deep Fried Pudge - Okay, this is a really weird inclusion because like... this comic isn't good. This comic is painfully bad. Like, "roll your eyes into the back of your skull at your dad's stupid jokes" bad. This comic has not stopped updating daily since 2012. It literally just had its 11 year anniversary. Every update is just a single panel either making some pun or just stating very innocent, inoffensive opinions. There are four thousand of these things. And every single one is done with the same art style and joke structure as before, the comics from today look and feel like a 7 year old made them the exact same way they did 10 years ago, as if trapped in a hellish time capsule of its own design, and I love it, I freaking love it. Its existence quite literally defies human nature. Reading it and attempting to comprehend why it exists is like staring into the eyes of some Eldritch god that chose peace over chaos. Pudge will outlive all of us. Pudge will outlive the universe. All hail Pudge.

[drewharrisonwriter]

One Day at a Time - Ch. 11: Rescue

Pairings: Dave York x Female Reader

Series Summary: A man washed ashore, with no memory, and no name, finds a home and a life in the middle of nowhere.

Author's Notes: This story has been sitting in my drafts for over a year, waiting for the perfect moment to see the light of day. It wasn't until recently that I found the inspiration to finally finish the last two chapters, thanks to the incredible Keri @absurdthirst. Her story, "Washed Up," struck a chord with me—it had such a similar plot and concept to what I had in mind, and it reignited my passion to bring this piece to life. Keri's writing has been a constant source of solace and inspiration, and I'm endlessly grateful for her creativity and the way she crafts stories that speak to the soul. If you haven’t checked out her work, you absolutely should!

Warnings: Please be aware that this story contains elements of violence, explicit sexual content, and pregnancy. Additionally, there are medical inaccuracies throughout—because I don’t work in the medical field, so please take it all with a grain of salt. Enjoy the ride, and thank you for reading! 😊

Read this on AO3 | Check out my Masterlist

The house they approached looked as desolate as Resnik had described. It was isolated, the kind of place that would be easy to overlook. They parked a short distance away, the rain still pouring down, and cautiously approached the building.

“No movement,” Resnik observed, scanning the area. “But we should check it out.”

They circled around to the back, finding the door slightly ajar. Dave exchanged a look with Resnik, unease gnawing at him. “This feels wrong,” Dave muttered.

Resnik nodded, his hand resting on his weapon. “Stay sharp.”

Dave pushed the door open, stepping into the dark, waterlogged kitchen. The floor was slick with rainwater, puddles forming under the leaking roof. As Dave moved forward, something hard struck the side of his head. He stumbled, pain shooting through his skull as he fell to the wet floor.

“Dave!” Resnik’s voice was sharp as he engaged the assailant, quickly overpowering him.

Dave blinked, his vision swimming as he tried to regain his bearings. Resnik hauled him to his feet, and that’s when Dave saw who the attacker was.

“Tom?” Dave’s voice was filled with disbelief.

Tom’s face was twisted with rage. “You think you can just walk away from everything you’ve done? You and him?” He spat, his eyes wild.

Dave shook his head, still reeling. “What the hell are you talking about, Tom?”

“You don’t deserve this life,” Tom hissed. “You don’t deserve any of it. You belong under the earth for what you’ve done.”

“Tom, listen to yourself,” Dave said, his voice steady despite the pounding in his head. “We’ve all done things we regret, but this isn’t the way. Let us help you.”

“There’s no helping any of us!” Tom shouted, lunging at Dave again. But this time, Dave was ready. He sidestepped the attack, wrestling Tom to the ground.

Resnik moved in, his voice low and commanding. “Stand down, Tom. Don’t make this worse.”

Tom’s eyes flashed with a crazed determination. “McCall told me everything—what you did, what you are. You think you can just escape judgment? This is God’s will, Dave. You and Resnik deserve to die for your sins.”

“Tom, you’re stopping us from saving her,” Dave said, his voice sharp with urgency. “You’re going to have her blood on your hands too.”

Dave’s heart pounded as he fought to keep control. “We can talk about this, Tom. Just stop!”

But Tom’s rage was blinding, and in the chaos, Dave had no choice. With a final, decisive move, he overpowered Tom, his breath ragged as he realized what he had done. A loud crack echoed through the room. 

Tom lay still, the fight gone from him. Dave’s hands were shaking, the reality of the situation sinking in. He literally just twisted the man’s neck and killed him, and it brought a familiar feeling that’s no longer welcome. 

“We need to find her,” Resnik reminded him, his voice cutting through the fog in Dave’s mind.

Dave nodded, still in shock but focused. They searched the house, but it was empty, the water from the storm seeping in from all sides. Panic set in as Dave realized there was no sign of you.

“She’s not here,” Dave said, his voice thick with dread. “Where the hell is she?”

Resnik was scanning the area when he suddenly stopped, his eyes narrowing. “Dave, look.”

Dave followed his gaze to the window, where he saw it—trapdoors leading down into the ground near the barn. How had he missed that before?

Without a word, they rushed outside, the rain pelting down on them as they pried the trapdoors open. But they wouldn’t budge.

“Come on, come on,” Dave muttered, his hands slipping on the wet wood.

Then he heard it—a faint, desperate voice calling for help. His heart raced as he recognized your voice.

“Hold on!” Dave shouted, his voice breaking with urgency. “We’re coming!”

With Resnik’s help, they finally forced the trapdoors open, revealing an old well beneath them. The water had risen dangerously high, and there you were, struggling to keep your head above it.

“Dave!” you gasped, your voice weak but filled with relief. “Please, help!”

Dave’s blood ran cold at the sight of you, the water nearly up to your chest, your breath coming in short, panicked bursts. He looked around frantically, trying to find a way to get you out.

“There’s no ladder!” Dave shouted to Resnik, who was already running back to the house.

“Hang on!” Resnik called back. “I’ll find something!”

You were gasping for air, the water rising quickly. “Please, hurry!” you pleaded, your voice trembling with fear.

Dave’s heart pounded as he reached down, trying to grab hold of you. “I’m here! Just hold on a little longer!”

Resnik returned with a ladder.

The rain was relentless, the water creeping higher. Dave and Resnik carefully lowered the ladder into the well, but it still didn’t reach far enough for you to grab hold. Panic surged through Dave as he realized they were running out of time.

“This isn’t going to work!” Dave shouted, his voice strained with desperation.

Resnik scanned the area quickly, his mind racing. “We need to secure the ladder somehow—give it more length.”

Dave looked around, his mind working at a frantic pace. “What about the rope from the barn? If we can tie it to the top of the ladder, maybe we can lower it down far enough.”

Resnik nodded. “That could work. Stay here with her, I’ll get it.”

Dave watched as Resnik sprinted back to the barn, the rain beating down on him. He turned his attention back to you, his heart aching at the sight of your struggle.

“Hang on darling,” Dave called down, his voice breaking with emotion. “We’re going to get you out of there.”

You were trembling, the water now up to your shoulders, making it even more difficult to keep your head above the rising waters. “Please hurry,” you gasped in fear, your strength waning.

“Just a little longer,” Dave pleaded, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m right here. I’m not going to leave you, never again.”

You nodded weakly, trying to hold on, but your exhaustion was evident. The strain of the water and the weight of your pregnancy were too much to bear.

Resnik returned quickly, a length of rope in hand. Together, he and Dave tied the rope to the top of the ladder, securing it tightly. They carefully lowered it back down into the well, this time with just enough length to reach you.

“Grab it!” Dave shouted, his hands gripping the rope as he tried to steady the ladder. “You can do it!”

With trembling hands, you reached for the ladder, your grip slipping on the wet rungs. Dave and Resnik held the ladder steady, encouraging you every step of the way.

“Take it slow,” Resnik advised, his voice calm but urgent. “One step at a time. We’ve got you.”

You started to climb, but the effort was immense. Your legs shook with the strain, and your breath came in ragged gasps.

“You’re almost there. Just a little more.” Dave said, his voice filled with determination. 

You fought to keep going, every muscle in your body protesting. The water continued to rise, pushing against you as you tried to climb higher.

Resnik adjusted his grip on the rope, helping to pull the ladder up incrementally as you climbed. “Keep moving,” he encouraged, his tone steady. “You’re almost out.”

Finally, you reached the top of the ladder, your hands grasping for solid ground. Dave reached down, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you up with a final, desperate effort. You collapsed against him, your body trembling with exhaustion and relief.

Dave held you tightly, his heart pounding with the intensity of the moment. “You’re safe,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “You’re safe now.”

But as you clung to him, you suddenly tensed, your hand flying to your belly. “Dave… something’s wrong,” you gasped, your voice filled with fear. “I’ve…I’ve been having contractions…” you admitted.

Panic surged through Dave. He pulled back slightly to look at you, his eyes wide with concern. “A contraction? Are you sure?”

You nodded, wincing in pain. “Dave…It’s too early… it’s not time yet…” You started to cry in fear and panic.

Dave’s heart dropped as he looked down and saw blood starting to stain your clothes. “You’re bleeding,” he whispered, his voice filled with dread.

Your grip on him tightened, and your eyes filled with tears. “Dave… please… save our baby,” you begged, your voice trembling as the pain intensified.

“I’m getting you to the hospital right now. Just hold on.” Dave promised, his voice breaking as he lifted you into his arms. 

You nodded weakly, but your strength was fading fast. “Please… save her…” you whispered before losing consciousness.

Dave’s heart lurched, but he didn’t waste another second. “We need to go—now!” he barked to Resnik, his voice filled with urgency.

Resnik didn’t need to be told twice. hesitate. Dave carried you to the car, every movement careful yet swift, he laid you in the backseat, as Resnik hopped behind the wheels and Dave climbed in beside you, cradling your head in his lap as Resnik sped toward the nearest hospital.

The storm raged on, the rain pounding against the windshield, but Dave’s focus was entirely on you. He watched helplessly as you lay there, pale and unconscious, your breath shallow and uneven. His hand rested gently on your swollen abdomen, a silent promise that he would do whatever it took to protect you and the life growing inside you.

Resnik drove with precision, pushing the car to its limits as he navigated the storm-soaked roads. Dave’s mind raced, fear gripping him with an intensity he hadn’t felt in a long time.

When they finally skidded to a stop in front of the hospital, Resnik was out of the driver’s seat in an instant, flagging down the medical staff. Dave scooped you up in his arms, carrying you through the doors as doctors and nurses rushed to your side, firing questions at Dave. “What’s her medical history? Has she had any complications during the pregnancy?”

“How far along is she exactly? Has she had any issues with blood pressure or other conditions?”

“When did the contractions start? Was there any trauma that might have caused the bleeding?”

Dave’s heart pounded in his chest, his mind spinning as he tried to grasp the barrage of questions. But the truth was, he didn’t have the answers. He had no idea about the specifics of your pregnancy or your medical history. He didn’t even know you’re pregnant until a few hours ago… The fear gnawed at him, each question feeling like a blow to his already frayed nerves.

“I… I don’t know,” Dave stammered, his voice shaking, running a hand through his hair in desperation. He looked around at the expectant faces of the medical staff, the weight of their questions pressing down on him. “I don’t know… She just… She’s pregnant, she was bleeding, she said she was having contractions…”

The questions kept coming, their voices overlapping, each one more urgent than the last. Dave felt like he was drowning, the pressure mounting as he realized just how little he knew.

“What kind of prenatal care has she received? Has she had any ultrasounds recently? What’s her blood type?”

Dave’s vision blurred, his hands clenching into fists as the panic built inside him. The room felt like it was closing in, the air thick with tension.

“I don’t know!” Dave burst out, his voice cracking with desperation. “I don’t know any of that! Just… please, do whatever it takes to save her! Save her and the baby!”

His outburst hung in the air for second, a raw, desperate plea that seemed to echo in the silent hallway. The medical staff exchanged quick, understanding glances before one of the doctors stepped forward, placing a reassuring hand on Dave’s shoulder.

“We’ll do everything we can,” the doctor said, his voice calm but firm. “Right now, the best thing you can do is trust us and let us take care of her. We’ll keep you updated.”

Dave nodded, his breathing close to erratic as he tried to steady himself. The doctor’s words offered some comfort, but the uncertainty gnawed at him, the fear that he might lose both you and the baby consuming him.

The doctor turned to the team, issuing instructions as they moved with purpose back through the doors. Dave watched them go, feeling a crushing sense of helplessness. All he could do now was wait—and hope that they could save you both.

He slumped into a chair, the weight of the night’s events crashing down on him. His hands shook as he rubbed his face, the adrenaline still coursing through his veins.

Resnik quietly sat beside him, offering silent support. The storm continued to rage outside, but inside the hospital, Dave was left with nothing but his fears and the hope that, somehow, you and the baby would make it through this ordeal.

Next Chapter 👉🏻

[delusionalbitchinthehouse]

Hurt/very, very little comfort. Like barely a hint, and I might be imaginating it by reading too much into my own work. Delta is doing bad, the ghouls are a mess.

If Alpha hadn't been distracted by his own thought, he would have noticed much sooner the tense silence smothering anyone stepping foot in the common room sooner.

As it is, it takes Mist loudly clearing her throat to snap him out of his own head. His shoulders immediately stiffen as the atmosphere finally registers.

Ifrit, crossed-legged on the rug, looks devastated, eyes red and puffy, elbows on the coffee table, gripping his hair with enough strenght to turn his knuckles white. Zephyr is sitting on the couch behind him, lips drawn in a thin line, frown knitting his eyebrows, shoulders slouching. Mist...she throws Alpha a look that almost has him stumbling in shock : helplessness is written all across her face as she paces nervously, whole body tense as a bowstring, ready to snap. Alpha never saw her like this. It makes his stomach roll uneasily.

Then his eyes land on Omega, and it's like being punched in the guts. The quint is unusually quiet, curled in on himself despite still standing, like he's trying to make himself as small as possible, ears flat against his skull, tail tucked between his legs. Before Alpha can reach him, smooth a hand along his back and enquire what's wrong, a shuffling draws his attention toward Pebble and Ivy.

And oh, Alpha is starting to understand the pattern. Pebble looks positively furious. Snarling silently, glaring at Omega like he believes looks can kill, the only reason he hasn't drawn blood yet seems to be Ivy's arms coiled tightly around him, refusing to let him go in spite of sharp elbows being thrown at his ribs or feet stomping on his.

There is only one reason Pebble could look so ready to maul Omega, someone he, despite what the past few years made transpire between them, respects very much ; something happened to Delta.

That certainty settles in Alpha's bones like ice, chilling him to his core, and not even his internal fire can thaw such a realisation.

Given the situation, Alpha turns to the person most likely to give him a straight answer.

"Zeph ?"

Zephyr lifts heavy, tired eyes toward him.

"Delta...something happened. He collapsed in the middle of the hallway...he's stable now, but very weak. Aether is watching over him."

So it's getting worse again. Alpha's stomach churn. Delta barely pulled through the last time he had such a crisis, not long after the Papas' murder. So now...

"I should go check on..."

"You won't get anywhere near him, you hear me ?!"

Omega's weak offer gets cut off by Pebble's venemous growl, straining against Ivy with renewed energy, fangs bared. Omega seems to shrivel under the earth ghoul's scalding anger.

"He needs-"

Pebble nearly manages to jostle himself free, sending both himself and Ivy sprawling onthe floor, from which he keeps spitting his rage at Omega's face.

"Aether's with him, he certainly doesn't need you. You're the one who fucked up his transition so bad-"

"I did my best, water and quint are such unstable elements-"

"-had him repatching himself on a molecular fucking level-"

"-was the first ever attempted, I didn't know that would happen, he begged me to-"

"-and now Delta's half dead on a hospital bed, and it's all because of you, are you proud, Omega-"

The room disolves in chaos, between Pebble's accusation becoming more and more frantic, Omega attempting to defend himself while slowly crumbling, Ivy begging them to stop, Ifrit breaking down again, sobs raking his whole body while Zephyr does their best comforting and shushing him, Mist seemingly hesitating between knocking someone out or banging her head against the wall.

Alpha's head is pounding, the image of Delta laying lifelessly on white sheets barely paler than him bounces inside of it, a spike of nausea-inducing panic nearly has him retching, and that's just it.

The second Pebble manages to wiggle his way out of Ivy's grasp, lunging claws first toward Omega, Alpha's instinct kicks up. He tackles the earth ghoul, one arm around his waist, the other around his middle, trapping Pebble's arms against his body. Uncaring of the thrashing, Alpha holds on tight.

"Let it all out. Come on, give me everything, give it to me, i can take it."

And Pebble does. Kicks, yells, spits curses, snaps his jaws, even sinks his fangs in Alpha's shoulder, but the fire ghoul doesn't budge, kneeling on the worn carpet, arms unyielding around him even as he calls him every names under the sun and then more.

After a while, the earth ghoul slumps, and Alpha knows he's crying silently of his shoulder, can feel the dampness through his shirt, the occasional twinge of salt on the fresh bite mark there. It speaks volume on Pebble's emotional state, that he let himself cry on Alpha of all people ; any other day, the fire ghoul would get disembowled if he had the unfortune of seeing Pebble with even the slightest hint of tears in his eyes.

"Alright. You're alright."

A shaky exhale, a shudder. Pebble doesn't look at anyone when Alpha releases him, making a beeline for the door, no doubt heading for the infirmary, but he pauses at the threshold. Hand lingering on the handle. He doesn't look back, but the hesitation is there. A heartbeat later, he's gone.

Alpha shares a look with Mist, who's helping Ivy get to the couch next to where Ifrit curled against Zephyr in distress. She jerks her chin toward Omega, then sticks her thumb in the direction of the huddled mass of ghouls on the couch.

You deal with him, I deal with them.

Smart girl.

Alpha glances at where Omega slid down against the wall, knees to his chest, eyes staring unseeingly. With a heavy heart, the fire ghoul reads the pain clear as day on the quint's pinched features.

There will be many more tears to drytonight.