#gaia skin naturals

[katatonicimpression]

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In Generation X (1994) #47, Forge installs a miniature danger room in the Massachusetts Academy, for the kids to train with.

Later, while he is teaching a guest class on ethics, it gains sentience (because of Gaia) and tries to kill them all.

[howlingday]

Jaune's Shampoo

Andromeda Gaia

"DAMMIT, NORA!" Jaune opened his shower door. As he exited, he noticed his body had drastically changed. Using a mixture of his shampoo and experimental goo found at the fiendish Dr. Merlot's laboratory, Nora had unwittingly created a mutagen just to prank her team leader.

Jaune stepped out of the shower and felt... weightless. He opened his eyes to find himself outside, staring into the night sky, but he saw more than that. He saw the shattered moon the same distance away, yet when he reached his hand to it, his arm was a column of blue with orange stars glittering across what used to be his skin. Flexing his fingers, he felt a power he'd not felt before.

"Brother, do you see this?" A voice said. Jaune turned to the voice and saw a yellow figure almost as tall as he. His face was featureless, save for the golden antlers atop his head. Jaune turned around to see the 'brother' mentioned.

"I do, Brother." The purple entity said, his features just as less with horns like that of a... a goat, maybe? Jaune wasn't sure. What Jaune was sure of, however, was the intention of the orb of energy building in the figure's hand. "Another trick of Salem's?"

"Nothing of Remnant's power could reach the stars." The golden figure answered, their own hand filled with energy. "Even if this thing does look like our collaborated effort."

"I..." Jaune gulped, or he thought he did, if his new body could allow. "My name is Jaune. Jaune Arc."

"It has a human name." The golden being said, his voice uplifted like it were filled with joy.

"It has a Remnant name." The dark being replied, his voice low and filled with revulsion.

"Then we shall clean the stars of this stain!" The brothers said in unison, their energies striking Jaune and swirling around his body. His body wracked with a pain he'd not felt before. It felt like his muscles spasmed with electricity while he was forced to curl to shield himself from the cold. Agony rocked his core. "And when this task is through, we shall return to Remnant to give them their just due."

At this point, Jaune thought of where he was only minutes ago. And even if they were minutes or centuries ago, they were memories he held fondly. He remembered Nora and Ren's bond. He remembered Yang's jubilance and Blake's... Blake-ness. He remembered Weiss' cold indifference that belied her empathy. He remembered Pyrrha's strength that complimented her kind nature. And he remembered Ruby's... everything; from her silver eyes to her innocent smile to everything else that made her so... important.

And he could not risk any of that to come to harm.

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

"Has anyone seen Jaune?" Pyrrha asked.

"Is he in the shower?" Nora asked, almost bouncing with excitement.

"No, he isn't." Ren answered, giving Nora a shock. "Why would you suggest there of all places first?"

"N... No reason..." Nora replied with darting eyes and pursed lips. She really was a horrible liar.

"I'm going to ask Team Ru- Oof!"

"Oh, sorry, Pyrrha!" Ruby apologized, picking up the spartan. "I didn't mean to knock you over!"

"Ruby, slow down!" Weiss chided her partner. "The last thing we need is detention on top of what we're getting."

"What you're getting?" Ren asked.

"Professor Ozpin said he needs to see us ASAP." Yang answered.

"Ooh~! What did you guys do~?" Nora teased.

"Nothing! They can't prove anything!"

"I didn't do anything, at least." Blake amended. "I can't speak for the others."

"We didn't do anything wrong." Weiss said, leading the team down the hallway. "Unless our team leader is pulling pranks again."

"I'm not! I swear!" Ruby shouted, running to catch up.

"Should we join them?" Ren asked.

"Jaune is missing, so we need to tell the headmaster anyway."

"Ooh, Vomit Boy on the loose, huh?" Yang grinned. When Pyrrha shot a glare in her direction, she winced. "Uh, when did you last see him?"

"I saw him go into the bathroom about an hour ago." Nora said. "Last I heard was 'Dammit, Nora!' before I ran away."

"So you did do something." Ren narrowed his eyes at his partner.

"N... No, I didn't..." Nora lied.

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

Before the elevator doors opened, even before the light came on and the 'DING!' was heard, there was an uproar in Ozpin's office. Looking inside, it was clear why. Professor Ozpin and Professor Goodwitch were shouting at a tall, pale woman in a long, black dress with red markings. She looked more like a Grimm than any person the two teams had ever met. Also inside, standing off to the side, were the exchange students from Haven; the woman with dark hair and amber eyes, the young man with gray hair, the young woman with red eyes and dark skin, and the smallest of the group who just gave off all kinds of creepy vibes.

"Team RWBY... and JNPR, as well?" Professor Goodwitch addressed.

"Really, Ozma?" The pale woman said. "Sending MORE children to fight your battles for you?"

"I'm sorry," Ozpin pointed at the Haven students, "am I pot or kettle in this metaphor?"

"They're adults!"

"Is she?!" Ozpin singled out the creepy, small one. She puffed her cheeks in anger.

"What's going on?"

"Are you familiar with The Brothers?" The dark-haired woman asked.

"The Brother of Light and Darkness who created Remnant and left after mankind betrayed them, shattering the moon as they fled?"

"The same." She nodded at Blake. "And now they're coming back."

"WHAT?!" Teams RWBY and JNPR said collectively, save for Jaune who had yet to be found.

"But... But did mankind learn their lesson?" Ruby asked. "What even was the lesson?!"

"Yes, Salem, what was the lesson?" Professor Ozpin asked, his voice lilt with a teasing nature.

"Oh, shut up, Ozma!" The pale woman, assumingly Salem, answered. "Or should I call you Ozpin like everyone else you've lied to?"

"I was protecting everyone!" The headmaster barked.

"Oh, I'm sure! Just like you're going to protect us from THE BROTHERS THEMSELVES COMING BACK!"

"Will you two just-"

SHUT! UP!

Everyone in the room shook with fear. The tower was rocked to its foundation. Remnant itself quaked to its core. All eyes were drawn to the window where three figures stood in mid-air. The figure on the left touched the glass, reducing the window to sand. The three then stepped inside, passing between Ozpin and Salem.

"I've had enough bickering for the day, and it's only noon." The blue-and-orange figure in the middle said. It then patted its 'belly'. "Hopefully they're still serving lunch. I could really go for some dinosaur chicken nuggets."

"Dinosaur chicken nuggets?" Salem raised a brow.

"Wait, does that mean..." Professor Goodwitch's eyes became wide.

"Is that..." Yang gasped.

"JAUNE?!" Ruby and Pyrrha exclaimed together.

"Hm?" The figure turned to his sister and actual team. "Oh, hey, guys."

"Jaune... What... What happened to you?" Pyrrha asked.

Though his face was featureless, anyone could tell he was glaring. "Ask her." If his gaze didn't single her out, his finger did when it was mere feet from Nora's face. She gave a sheepish grin, scratching her head. Ren was shaking with how angry he was. "Thank you."

"Huh?" Nora and Ren shared a look of surprise, despite only Nora speaking.

"If it wasn't for your prank, I wouldn't have become like this," Jaune gestured to himself, "and I couldn't have fixed this problem without this phenomenal cosmic power."

"In this itty-bitty working space, too." Emerald whispered.

"Father," the golden figure said, "our purpose."

"Oh, right." He pointed to Salem. "Fix her."

"What?" Before Salem could protest further, the lavender figure snapped his fingers and all of her features reverted back to how she was before; she was human with blonde hair and blue eyes, standing in a white dress. She looked at herself, then flexed her fingers. "My... My magic..."

"Still there, but significantly weakened." Jaune said. "There will be no more Grimm creation from now on. What has not been made cannot be made."

"But... my anger... my children..." Salem shook.

"It's okay to be angry." Jaune knelt, placing his finger under Salem's chin to look at him. "But you cannot punish humanity for what only a few have done to you." At these words, the entities at his side flinched. "Take your rage and turn it into passion. Study magic, teach it to others, and the children you have lost will become children anew. And I promise, you may not feel it at first, but you will feel better."

Salem wept, and Jaune embraced her in his arms, patting her on the back as she whispered hushes by her ears. He glanced over to Ozpin, who flinched. With nod in his direction, the being made of sunlight snapped his fingers and Ozpin's body rose a few inches off the ground before he tumbled back down. He patted over himself.

"Your curse has been lifted, Ozma." Jaune said as Salem stepped away, wiping what remaining tear held in her eye. "No longer immortal, nor shall this curse be passed to anyone else. Your shadow war removed, and your shadows brought into the light. You know what you must do now; you must tell the world the truth. Tell them all and I promise I will allow no harm to come to those under your care."

"I... I can't..."

"Ozma." Jaune towered over his former headmaster. Honestly, if it weren't for the sudden ascension into godhood, this wouldn't be happening. "People have died because of your secret. People will continue to die for this secret. Only the truth will set you free and set this world right. This is the right thing to do."

Ozpin was silent for a moment, then gave a chuckle. "You truly have exceeded my expectations, Mr. Arc." He took a deep breath. "Professor Goodwitch, assemble a press conference as soon as possible. It's time for the truth to come into the light."

"Y... Yes, Professor Ozpin."

"Ozma." The headmaster corrected. "Professor Ozma will suffice from now on."

"Yes... Professor Ozma." The two shared a smile.

"Wait, that's it?" A voice barked in defiance. "You just come in here, swing your big god-wang around and everything's suddenly okay? Where were you when I was getting beaten into the dirt by my old man?!"

"Merc-"

"No, screw this sandalwood-and-chocolate-ass guy!" Mercury continued to shout, shaking off Emerald trying to pull him back. "Screw you, man! Where were you when my dad broke my damn legs?! Where were you every night he came home drunk, pulled me out of bed, and-"

"I didn't exist." Jaune interrupted, silencing Mercury. "And I know that's no excuse. Your father was a monster, and nothing can excuse his actions. But you are not him. And I am not him. You are Mercury Black, and I... am The Father."

"The Father." The Brothers bowed their heads.

"And these are my Sons," he gestured to the former Brothers, "as are you, and all of Remnant who want me in their lives will be my sons and my daughters and my children." He spread his arms wide. "And like any good father, we are here to help."

[noise-vs-signal]

Serpentine Vibrations

Sing the notes of the scale, ascending the ladder (spine) from lowest to highest.

Move on to sounding the vowel from each note. Feel how your mouth changes shape for each one, and practice different ways of singing and vibrating these.

For each vowel visualise and feel the appropriate planetary sphere at each station along your central axis (axis mundi).

The low bass of Red Mars, molten magma, iron will, will to live, life force. Om, ॐ, Aum, primeval sound, Omega, Ω, Ouroboros, world serpent, coiled 3 and a 1/2 times at the base of the spine, the base of the world tree.

The songs of Orange Mercury, the serpent undulating across the desert sands, sibilant syllables, the sacred letters and words, the world as language, Aleph, א, the Alphabet, Alpha and Omega, twin serpents twined round the caduceus, the spiral of DNA.

The music of the Yellow Sun, light and beauty, Eros, desire, energy and electricity, the serpent basking in the Sun, its warmth and heat, curled round the fire.

The release and pleasure of Green Venus, Amor, Love, Aphrodite, Viriditas, Mother Nature, Gaia, the emerald scales of the serpent, emerald stone in the crown of Lucifer, Morning Star, Venus.

The clarion call of Blue Jupiter, the bass note of Mars now at a higher level, Odin, All Father, the song of the runes, cerulean sky, Ouranos, Odysseus, πολύτροπος, shape shifter, serpent twisting and turning.

The symphony of the Indigo Moon, her different phases, from dark to light, the mirror of Artemis, the wisdom of Athena, Ariadne, Shiva's 3rd Eye, serpent shedding its skin, shedding the outer world.

The vibration and frequencies of Ultraviolet Saturn, Time encircling us, the fire in which we burn, Kali dancing on Shiva's corpse, Ecstasy, Serpent becoming the Great Dragon, the Phoenix, Exit into Eternity ...

[writingtraumaforever]

Crushed Lavender/Sonadowtober Day 29: False Alarm

Okay so two things.

1. I know it’s the 1st of November, but I saw and started this the 29th. So it still counts. I don’t make the rules.

2. The prompt was ‘false alarm’, but this turned more into a ‘close call’ or ‘saved your skin’ kind of thing. But it’s close enough.

Anyway!! Here’s my mediocre and belated addition to Sonadowtober!!

Takes place after Sonic Frontiers! Also, TW for thoughts of unaliving oneself/depression. c:

One shot:

It’s not that Shadow is a worrier or a pessimist. He’s a realist.

And the reality is that Sonic is one of the most danger-prone Mobians Shadow has ever met.

And ever since he returned from Starfall Islands, he hasn’t been quite himself. He’s not all there in his head. It��s as though sometimes he doesn’t know where he is at all, somewhere else far away.. or not there at all even.

It doesn’t help that Sonic’s usual group of misfits seems to be awol at the time. Apparently they’ve all gone off to “find themselves” in some way.. or at least that’s what Rouge has told him. She was pretty torn up Knuckles wouldn’t be around to irritate anymore— though Shadow thinks she’s more upset over the fact he didn’t ask her to come with him on his journeys.

Either way, Sonic is not seemingly on his own most days now. His support system now gone and leaving him to deal with whatever has begun plaguing his mind all on his own.

So what other choice did Shadow have but to take it upon himself to occupy the blue hedgehog’s time?? Otherwise, Gaia knows what trouble that dumb faker would’ve stirred up.

It began with Shadow happening to be in the same place as Sonic on a run. They raced, naturally. And that was that. The hedgehog seemed in good spirits after that.

This happened regularly for a month or so.

Until once after the race, Sonic didn’t seem so happy-go-lucky and smug like he usually does. No banter being shot for Shadow to bicker with on who won or who cheated. No victory dances or laps or anything. Sonic simply finished the race, Shadow turning to him and finding him staring off at the ocean they had ended at. Staring down at the waves from the cliff he stood on. Emerald eyes glistening from the reflection of the moon but there was no light behind them.

It was one of those moments.

He wasn’t there anymore.

Dull and absent eyes stared down at the crashing waves, Shadow watching and feeling an uneasiness settle over them with every passing moment. He frowned. It was like Sonic was drowning and he hadn’t even touched the water far below yet.

Shadow knew that look…

He use to stare into space like that..

Shadow’s brows furrow, arms crossing as he turns a bit more towards Sonic. Standing only a few yards from him as he tilts his head just slightly and observes him a long moment. Unsure what to do. What to say. Should he even say anything?? Maybe he should leave..

No one ever helped him through his own moments of dissociation, and he wasn’t sure what he would’ve wanted them to do even if they had.

But before Shadow can dwell on it much longer, he watches Sonic lean a little more over the edge.

A little too close for comfort.

He steps forward, arms uncrossing to reach a hand towards the blue hedgehog,

“Sonic..?”

Sonic’s flinches at that, blinking emerald eyes before turning them to look at Shadow a bit too wide for Shadow’s liking..

Then Sonic’s blank expression turns to a slow, wobbly smirk as he gives a thumbs up to Shadow, “Heh—“

And then the world stops.

Or— the edge Sonic stands on crumbles just enough to make the hero lose his footing. And Shadow watches as Sonic’s face goes from surprise, to horror… then to nothing.

Sonic’s eyes shut, and he falls back. The fastest thing alive has plenty of time to regain balance or dash out of the danger zone.. but he doesn’t move.

And Shadow watches in shock and then heavy realization. Realization that’s abrupt enough to snap him out of said shock and send him rocketing to Sonic as he watches him disappear over the cliff side.

Shadow skids across the ground, sliding onto his stomach to grab at Sonic’s hand only to miss by a breath. His gloved fingertips graze the hero’s, Sonic’s eyes never open.

He falls.

Shadow doesn’t think.

He doesn’t even breathe.

He just jumps.

Lunging off the edge, sending himself surging down towards Sonic’s plummeting body. The waves beckon them closer, gravity paves the way. Shadow’s eyes are locked on cobalt blue as ocean blue approaches in the background. His arms are outstretched.

Reaching.

Grasping.

Touching.

Gripping.

Holding.

Cradling.

“Chaos Control!”

A bright light reflects just above the salt water and then flashes again far away.

Somewhere no cliffs are near and in their place are simply rolling hills of lavender.

The safest place Shadow could think of.

They crash against the ground as they had been falling, rolling as a fumbling ball of red, black and blue until they crumble and skid to a stop on plush flowers.

Shadow is groaning from the impact, having taken most of it due to practically curling around Sonic protectively in his arms. Sonic laid on his back with emerald eyes wide open once again, his chest rising and falling with heavy and desperate breaths.

Drowning again.

No where near the water.

“What the hell were you doing?!” Shadow snapped, shoving himself off the ground onto his knees to glare over at Sonic unabashedly.

Sonic doesn’t answer.

He doesn’t acknowledge Shadow.

This just boils Shadow over.

Shuffling on his knees over to hover over Sonic, he scowls down at him disapprovingly, “You blue idiot— don’t just lay there ignoring me! What the hell was that??”

Shadow’s hands move to grip Sonic’s shoulders, this seeming to knock the hedgehog out of his daze. Sonic’s wide eyes snap to Shadow with a hard flinch, seeming shocked and bewildered by the ebony hedgehog above shaking him.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you had a damn death wish, you—!!”

Shadow’s shaking halts.

He stares down at Sonic who is still breathing concerningly quick. More like gasping for air than actual breaths, swallowing huge gulps as if they’re not enough.

Shadow’s anger slowly stifles, eyes losing their heat and instead melting into something of concern and discomfort..

Seeing Sonic like this..

It was.. unsettling.

“Hey.. hey, Faker..,” Shadow’s voice rasps, removing hands from Sonic momentarily before repositioning them to place one on Sonic’s chest over his heart to feel it pounding against his gloved palm and then moving his other to grab Sonic’s wrist and bring the hero’s hand to his chest so Sonic can feel it rise and fall,

“Breathe..”

Shadow’s breaths are slow and easy. Steady and deep.

Sonic’s own breaths stay panicked, not quite computing what Shadow is even saying for a long moment. But eventually, his eyes lock with Shadow’s, and he steadies himself. He begins trying to even out his breaths, matching them with Shadow’s so that his chest rises and falls with Shadow’s own.

This seems to do the trick. Sonic’s previously tense and terrified disposition easing into relative discomfort. Which still isn’t ideal but it’s progress.

Sonic’s raised quills slowly flatten and his wide eyes grow more tired and calm.

But with that calm exposes something vulnerable and scared too..

And before Shadow can even think of what next step to take..

Sonic’s ears flatten back and his frown trembles.

He doesn’t cry. He doesn’t shatter and break.

But he cracks.

Just a little. Just enough.

Taking a shaky breath, Sonic slides his wrist from Shadow’s grip and lets his arm fall over his eyes as he shuts them.

He blows a long, uneasy breath out, and his trembling mouth slides into a forced grin, “Man!… That was a close one, huh??”

His sideways smile and jittery, breathy chuckle makes Shadow feel ill..

Shadow sits back on the backs of his heels, his hands retreating to his sides as he looks down at the cracked hero. How he tries to hide from what just happened behind his arm and a mask.

Shadow can’t look. He turns his head away with a frown and furrowed brows.

Sonic just breathes a few moments longer before pushing himself up with a grunt. Leaning back on his arms, he looks around with his casual smile and his glossy eyes at their environment.

“Where even are we??? I don’t think I’ve ever been here be—“

“You wanted to fall.”

“Huh??”

Sonic looks at Shadow.

Shadow is looking straight back at him.

It’s not anger. It takes Sonic a moment to place it.

Disappointment.

And.. something else.

“You wanted to fall. You were gonna let yourself go.”

Betrayal.

Sonic looks like a deer in headlights for a pause before he rolls his eyes and looks way with a shrug and grin, “What kind of dumb accusation is that— I slipped, Shadow. The cliff crumbled under my feet, and—“

“You were standing way too close to the edge—“

“—I didn’t have time to catch my footing again—“

“—you had plenty of time to jump out of the way or grab onto the ledge—“

“—and I don’t have a chaos emerald so I couldn’t flash myself to safety like you—“

“—you shut your eyes like you didn’t even want to bother with your own life—“

“I don’t even know my own life!!”

Sonic’s smile is gone.

He’s glaring at Shadow with those glossy eyes.

Shadow frowns.

“What does that even mean—“

“I don’t know— I-,” Sonic fumbles for words, hesitating on if he even wants to be saying any of this. If he even can say any of it.

“I haven’t felt like myself— I’m not even sure what myself is even suppose to feel like anymore! I think— I think I’m still on those stupid Islands! Like parts of me were pulled out and hacked into pieces and scattered all over that place and I’ll never fully get them all back!!”

Shadow stares. Trying to understand. Trying to process and listen and take in.

He doesn’t speak.

Sonic keeps going.

“I didn’t even know my own name for a minute! I didn’t know who I was— what I was!! And now— now the only people I trust to tell me and remind me of that are gone! And I’m— I’m so, so happy for them! I’m so proud for them! But I’m still confused and lost and feeling like I don’t even know myself anymore so what’s the point, ya’know?!”

“Yes, I know.”

Sonic blanks and then huffs at that, looking away as if offended by Shadow’s simple and quick answer to his outburst. He opens his mouth.

…

Then he shuts it.

Realizing that Shadow’s simple answer was… honest.

He looks at Shadow again, his offended glare turning to something a bit more sad. Ears folding back and raised quills relaxing as he looks at his counterpart with a hesitant gaze..

“…You do know, huh?”

Shadow doesn’t speak. He just looks at Sonic a long moment and then looks down at the lavenders he’s knelt down in.. his gloved hand rubbing over one as he gives a single nod of confirmation.

Sonic watches him. Tired and scared and open.

“…How do you deal with it??”

Shadow shrugs. Sonic huffs at this, immediately impatient that he doesn’t have an answer only for Shadow to speak quietly.

“You.. are confused for a while. You try to remember who you were and who you were created to be. Who you worked so long and hard to become. You think of who made you into this person you are and why you must be that person for them because of it. And when that doesn’t work, you-.. you’re angry.”

Shadow’s fist closes around the flower, pulling it up from the ground and lifting it with a grip of vice. Sonic’s eyes follow it, hearing the ever so subtle sound of tiny purple petals being crunched together.

“And you try and point that anger somewhere.. give yourself a purpose. A validation. A justification.. Fighting battles, protecting,… revenge.”

Shadow’s palm opens and reveals the crumbled flower in it.

“But in the end, you realize you’ve done more harm than good.. and you wonder if you yourself are more harm than good..”

Sonic’s brows knit up, a hopeless frown on his muzzle as he eyes the obliterated lavender in Shadow’s palm and then averts his gaze. Unable to look at the damage done any longer.

“…But there’s something inside you still. The very essence of your being. The reason you exist. The reason you’re even here..”

Sonic’s eyes return to Shadow at that, exhausted and with a slight and reluctant glimmer of hope.

“… to just live.”

Sonic’s brows furrow at this, seeming unsatisfied with this answer.

He opens his mouth but before Sonic can say anything, Shadow turns more towards him and continues.

“You don’t have to prove anything, Sonic. You may feel like you’re obligated to be some perfect being. That you have to match some prophecy or legacy left to you. That you have to be some sort of Ultimate Lifeform..”

Sonic’s head tilts a bit at Shadow, hanging onto his every word.

“..but you only have to be what you deem worthy of being. Past or future, you are only what you choose to be. You are all of you, forgotten or not. And right now, if being alive is a battle, it’s a damn worthy one to fight for yourself in my opinion.”

Shadow’s gaze meets Sonic’s and Sonic’s own emerald orbs hold slow understanding in them.. revelation.

Shadow gives a tiny smile. He holds the crumbled lavender out to Sonic, the blue hedgehog slowly holding his palm out for Shadow to pour the tiny petals into his cupped palm.

“Even crushed lavender is still lavender.. and it can still have purpose when crushed..”

[theladyismyshepard]

Hi there I haven't requested anything here in almost 2 years now and I won't lie I miss it, so if it's alright can I ask for Astarion and shadowhearts separate reaction to the Reader who is a magic user coming from a different world where magic is seen as a disease and those who have control of it are marked with a lightning like mark on their cheek

(Similar to the bearer mark from FF16)

I actually have a dusty old draft that's been collecting 2 years worth of cobwebs and it's a WIP that haunts me every time I see it when I open my drafts... and that just so happened to be a request of yours @adryanscott... so for you? Anything at all. The outline seems a little different, but bear with me

Tags: Mentions of abuse, torment, descriptions of chronic illness, Bearer enslavement canon to FF universe

Will You Be My Final Fantasy?

You were but a child when the magic lying dormant beneath your skin burst forth, crackling at your fingertips and ready to be cast. You were but a child when you yourself was cast away by your own parents, your entire world shifting upside down when you were sold off to the highest bidder. Gaia did not feel too much like home anymore, not when the people you had come to know as family and friends looked upon you with such disdain. The neck-breaking pace of which you had gone from carefree to chained was a shellshock that you were forced to adapt quickly to lest you learn the lesson of just how expendable you really were to your own people. At first, it had cut you so deep down that it pierced your soul.

Once the branding tattoo had marked the flesh of your cheek to signify the power brewing underneath, you were scorned. The people of Gaia thought you to be diseased and more monster than human. They feared your power and what you might be capable of, so they had come up with the idea of the bearer mark. Not only did it act as a red flag to warn others that you possessed natural magic and that you were owned, it dulled your powers in a painful way that left you with a permanent uncomfortable itch just beneath your skin. No amount of scratching or tearing away at the skin of your cheek would bring you relief, and at first, your struggle provided a great source of amusement for your enslavers until you began slacking on the quality of your duties.

As the years gave way to decades, the fiery fury that fueled your desire to see another day had slowly begun dwindling. You felt as if you yourself was an upturned hourglass, and with each grain of sand that flowed with time, your hope for something better faded with it. All you were living for was an end… an end to your torment, an end to your captors, an end to your miserable existence. You weren’t sure if you’d call yourself lucky or not that your Masters demanded back-breaking physical labor from you rather than casting spells at their convenience. With each draw of your magic, you felt a stiffening in your bones that brought with it a deep chill that was impossible to ward off. Maybe you were diseased…

The day had started as any other had in the past couple decades, with you rising in time with the sun to get prepared for a gruesome day of withering yourself away to nothing. As you glanced up to the sky to watch the first peeks of sunlight bleeding into the blanket of night, you couldn’t help the furrow of your brow when you noticed a small tear. Your lips parted, but as you took a step forward for a closer look to assure yourself that you weren’t hallucinating, there was an audible ripping sound as the tear in the sky widened into a large hole. Before you could even feel fear chill the blood in your veins, there was a gigantic ship soaring through, and across the horizon. You had never seen such a horrific-looking vessel that had long, flowing tentacles such as the one overhead at the moment, and your flight instincts kicked you into overdrive as it veered in your direction.

There was no time to register the long, fluid shadow of the tentacle hovering over you before it struck, and all you could do was watch on in horror as your hands began to disintegrate. First, you lost feeling in your fingers before the cracks broke apart your wrists, leaving nothing in its wake. The disintegration process didn’t take long to travel along the lengths of your forearms and up your biceps, and no amount of harsh gasps of air could pull enough breath into your lungs. You were fading fast. As your arms disappeared, you began to choke on the tightness in your chest before ash peppered your tongue and lodged itself along the walls of your throat. With a final gurgle, your eyes disintegrated and darkness enveloped you until there was nothing left.When you had awoken, you discovered yourself in a world where nearly everyone wielded magic. It was a culture shock that left you reeling, and even though you witnessed open displays of magic, even from some of your own party members, with no repercussions involved, you didn’t feel safe enough to expose yourself for what you were.

Shadowheart –

Even as you found yourself drawn towards Shadowheart, and felt yourself relating to the air of mystery (you understood better than anyone the need to bury the past and never let anyone see), you were so traumatized and so used to being seen as an animal to be used until broken that you could not speak the words. You were too fearful of being cast away yet again.

When Shadowheart had kissed you after revealing some of her own memories, you had tasted the bitterness of both the wine and of your own backstory on your tongue. It was the perfect moment to open up to the cleric, especially when you had never seen her eyes look so soft as they did when they gazed upon you at that moment. She had even asked you about your Bearer’s mark…but panic had seized control over any inklings of rationality you had left, and you had mumbled something about “everyone else had one” and “giving into the peer pressure”… The romantic atmosphere didn’t go any further than that, and you were grateful because the tightness in your chest proved too distracting to properly worship Shadowheart’s body. As you learned more and more of Shadowheart and who she affiliated herself with, you gauged other people’s reactions and deduced that her magic was frowned upon by many.

Her head never ducked beneath the weight of heated gazes sent her direction, and she never faltered at barbed words spat at her. You were in awe of how confident and self-assured she seemed in her worship, and you felt the connection between you two surpassing just your ability to relate. You admired Shadowheart to the point where you wanted to be more like her. You wanted to be free… But as you glanced between the woman you had come to care for and the shackled Nightsong, you couldn’t help thinking that Shadowheart was the true one in chains. To give blood, sweat, and tears your entire life and still have to fight through fire for any scraps of approval… it sounded too close to home for you. And if you yourself could never be free of the chains still holding you to Gaia, you would fight like hell to rid Shadowheart of hers.

You knew talking her down would prove challenging, but what you didn’t expect was how easily you had revealed your magic to the indignant woman. It was the accusation of you being clueless and ignorant spat so venomously at you that did you in. What do I know?! What do you know?! And it was the same moment your irritation boiled over that you remembered that she would never know if you refused to say something. Before she could turn her assault back onto the Nightsong, you sent a wave of your worst memories through your connection, and you were so overwhelmed yourself that you didn’t notice Shadowheart falter.

You can smell the leather of bootstraps as your bones snapped beneath heavy stomps. You can feel the sting of your open wounds rubbed with salts. You can hear the mocking laughter as your body writhes in a pool of your own blood. The stench of your boiled flesh was so pungent that you could almost taste it. There was a gnawing hunger that threatened to eat away at your stomach, and after a while, any thought of food would make you sick enough to dry heave. Through it all, there was the constant heartbeat in your cheek where the mark was tattooed. Sometimes you fear that the poison used in crafting the ink had seeped into your very pores and was burning you from the inside out. You were itchy, and so very stiff… And you couldn’t tell anyone. Keep your pain hidden. No one can help you. They’ll all hate you. You’ll be sent ba–

There were hands cradling your face, and the abrupt touch had you jolting out of your memories. Shadowheart was standing before you with tears welling up in her eyes and spilling down her cheeks. Concern and anger had flared across your connection as she glanced you up and down, desperately searching you for any lingering wounds or scars. Her eyes stopped on the lightning-shaped mark on your cheek, and you felt her thumb trace the skin below it, too hesitant to cause you additional hurt. You hiccuped as you became emotional at finally revealing the extent of your torment to the woman you loved. Your hands were shaking as you reached up to loosely grasp at her wrists, and she curled one hand around the back of your neck to bring your foreheads together.

“Never again,” Shadowheart swore thickly past her own tears, “No one will ever harm you again, not for this, not for anything…”

Your shoulders shook as an impending panic attack loomed over you.

You were taught to be ashamed of who you were, that you were less of a being and deserved the world’s spite just for being alive. You had watched people just like you call upon their magic one time too many, and the stiffness in their bones overtook them and morphed them completely into stone before withering away to dust. You were afraid of yourself for a very long time, and here this woman stood before you with nothing but love and sorrow on her face. Sorrow for what you had gone through, sorrow that you felt forced to hide from her, sorrow for you thinking you were anything less than perfect. She leaned up to place the gentlest kiss you’ve ever felt on your mark, and butterflies filled your stomach as your heart started racing.

“You have always been magnificent… I love you,” Shadowheart insisted earnestly, both of her hands now holding you close by the back of your neck, “And magic or no magic could make me need you any less, I assure you… Could you ever hate me for my magic?”

“Wh- No!” You rush to insist, but your shoulders deflate as her point reaches you… Maybe it was time to finally let yourself believe that you were really out of that place, and you never had to go back.

“I know what it’s like when something is too hard to let yourself believe… but you’ve helped me to see that there just might be the sweetest of rewards in doing so,” Shadowheart said before capturing your lips in a kiss intended to banish all doubt, and when she pulled away, she finally turned back to the Nightsong with nothing but sympathy in her heart.

You watched on in amazement as Shadowheart broke three sets of chains all at the same time.

— — — — — — — —

Astarion —

Despite the fact that a vampire had threatened to kill you in self-defense and still joined your party, you couldn’t bring yourself to fully open up. Each time his silky smooth words were close enough to reach you, your chest would seize up, keeping any and all secrets trapped within. As the weeks turned into months, you and Astarion had grown closer along the dusty trail. You had helped him to feel safe enough to confide in you about Cazador and the torments he had endured by his Master’s hand. You had felt your own misery and pain bubbling within your vocal chords, just begging to be released and revealed to the vampire. If anyone could understand the years of enslavement you had gone through because of your magic, it would be Astarion.

But throughout decades of cruelty, punishment, and humiliation, the one thing you never learned how to endure was being looked at as if you were something to be treasured rather than exploited. You knew where to cover when the blows started coming, you knew how to disassociate when the hunger set in, you knew what it was like to be more dead on the inside than on the outside… But you didn’t know how to react to any display of affection. How were you supposed to respond? You never quite learned how to convey compassion or how to accept it, and all you could do was curse yourself when you’d notice his shoulders slump the tiniest bit before his signature smirk was back in place to hide his own vulnerability.

But you had seen the smallest glimmer of how truly broken Astarion was, and now that you did, there was no unseeing it. Every sugary drawl, every deflecting answer, every flirtatious banter, it was all a facade, one that always seemed two steps away from crumbling. You wanted to help him, to fill in every fissure of his cracked heart with your presence until the very idea of Cazador was gone from his being, but you still felt too diseased yourself. When your fingers itched to reach out and comfort him when you’d notice the foggy haze of the past clouding over his eyes, you’d instead lift them to scratch at your burning bearer’s mark.

And bless him, Astarion had asked you about the tattoo one night after you had let him feed from you. You two were lying side-by-side as you gazed up into the vast blanket of stars, and there was a comfortable silence between you two that had only been broken by the question. He made no immediate comment even though you knew he felt you tense up next to him and you greatly appreciated it, especially knowing his penchant for starting trouble and watching others flounder in it. Before you could even attempt to think quickly on your feet, his hand had snuck down between your bodies to grab yours, and you were the one linking your fingers, squeezing his grip as the tension left your body. Only when he felt you fully relaxed did he assure you that that sounded like a topic better suited for another time. Your clasped hands never let go, even as you two fell asleep.

When your travels had brought the party to Baldur’s Gate, it was a chaotic mess with people wedged into any and every crevice. There were murderous cultists, sneaky thieves, and Astarion’s “sibling” spawns lurking about. The vampire tried his hardest to appear unaffected by the warnings, and he was successful to those on the outside looking in, but the tadpole connection was a deeper rooted relationship that proved nearly impossible to withdraw from. His emotions were a waged war, going back and forth and back again, and you so badly wanted to reach out and grab his hand to comfort him just as he did for you, but you had the same suspicion that this was a topic better suited for another time.

But you felt it, boy did you feel it through your connection… The same haunting feeling that clung to your bones, the chronic illness that stiffened your joints and left you too restrained in your own body, the horrific notion that you would never really belong to yourself, not ever again. Astarion’s back was rigid the entire way to camp, all traces of his charismatic aura gone. He was on edge, and would remain so forever until his Master was defeated, releasing him from the invisible chains still binding him. The rest of the party knew well enough to give him space (though everyone pretty much had their own problems they were in the middle of overcoming), but you would not leave him to wallow in the burning itch to go forth and rip, tear, kill…

You had the sense to bump up the urgency of seeking out Cazador’s lair and striking him down in Astarion’s name… but if he was as powerful as led to believe, and if there would be a chance of losing each other, that night wouldn’t be for Cazador, it would be for you and your love for Astarion, for him and his love for you. If he required a night of distraction to get him to the impending final showdown the next day, you would offer whatever he needed; If he needed blood, if he needed words, if he needed your body… With each gentle kiss that you placed on his skin, he seemed a little less further away. And as you watched him cum and was immediately brought to your own peak as well, you knew then that you would do anything to free this beautiful man.

You let that thought guide you as Astarion was forced under Cazador’s influence once more. The sight of him entrapped in the red beacon of his Master’s control had petrified you. To reach his full Ascension, Cazador had to absorb the special spawns’ life source, reducing them to a pile of ash, and you were paranoid with each attack he unleashed, each time he opened his mouth, that he would utter the spell to take Astarion away from you. When you could no longer withstand the mental torment, you raised your hand, and watched the magic crackle to life at your fingertips. Your cheek was burning, and you could see from your peripheral that your lightning-shaped mark was glowing, but you didn’t let it dissuade you. You were on a mission to save your lover, and you would use everything in your arsenal to do it, including your magic, even if it crystalized you in the process.

Your party members were thoroughly surprised to see you casting spells, but you couldn’t focus on that, not when Cazador was staggering on bended knee before attempting to rush back to his coffin. As Astarion dropped to the ground, he wasted no time in chasing after to peel the lid away before Cazador could begin healing himself. A weight lifted from your own chest when Astarion drove a dagger through his biggest nightmare over and over until his own sobbing pain began bleeding dry. He was free… and you will be, too…

As you stiffly knelt at Cazador’s dead body, right beside Astarion– always beside Astarion– you cupped his cheek with one hand, and grabbed the back of his neck with the other before bringing him into the sweetest of kisses. You scratched at the hairs at the base of his neck and before you could talk yourself out of it, you released all of your memories through your connection. You felt his gasp on your lips, but you pressed on, he deserved to know your biggest secret considering he shared his with you. He needed to know that you saw him… far deeper that he originally knew. You could taste his tears even after he pulled away.

“Oh darling…” Astarion whispered, his throat raw from screaming himself hoarse while boiling over, “I hate that you understand a little more than others… and I hate that such a beautiful soul like yourself has been bruised so heavily.”

You sagged into him before hugging him tightly. He began petting your hair and cooing praises into your ear, pressing an occasional kiss to your forehead every so often. You eventually craned your neck and caught his lips into a kiss, and if he couldn’t sense the love through it, you made sure to spread the warmth through your tadpole connection. His lips curled into a smile wide enough to break the kiss before he collected himself enough to pepper a handful of quick kisses onto your own bashfully grinning mouth.

“You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me–well…” His eyes momentarily cut down to Cazador’s body before meeting yours unwaveringly. “And I would continue to love you lifetimes after you were gone, only hoping you would return to me again someday.”

He dropped a reverent kiss to the back of your hand, brought you into one last searing kiss, and moved to stand, helping you up as he went. Astarion had a way of making you feel so safe and loved, even when exposing yourself, your body and your secrets. He would always assure you that he has his own skeletons in his closet… but at least they were finely dressed might he add.

[toastedcatbread]

🐍☁️The Concept of Touch☁️🐍

A Sefikura birthday fic for a certain person. Sephiroth only likes touch from one person (and likes to touch that person a lot, as we see in Remake)!

EC Seph X EC/AC Cloud (Cloud is older)

🐍☁️

The Concept of Touch

Sephiroth hated contact.

Most of the others respected it. Even with just a glance, it was abundantly clear that Sephiroth wasn’t a normal teen. With those unsettling green eyes and short silver hair, the teen was a force of nature to be reckoned with. The katana in his hand only served to make him more intimidating.

The first time someone tried to ruffle Sephiroth’s silver hair, they wound up with a very irate Sephiroth and a near death experience. No one repeated the motion.

So when Cloud Strife, the famed swordsman of Wutai, placed his hand in Sephiroth’s hair, ruffling the strands, the whole squad held their breath and took a step back. Sephiroth’s green eyes were wide as he stared at Strife, his sword still in his hand ready to strike. Instead, the words “That was nicely done, Sephiroth” broke the silence and the smile on Strife’s face was unmistakable. 

Strife lowered his hand, as if he hadn’t just barreled into the teen’s personal space without a second thought, turning back to clean up the battlefield. Sephiroth’s eyes were pinned on Strife’s small, but strong back, the blade in his hand still dripping with their kill. 

The others breathed a sigh of relief when Sephiroth lowered his blade, running forward to Strife’s side to assist him.

–

Cloud hadn’t even realized he had done it until his hand was in Sephiroth’s hair. 

He had half expected Sephiroth to push him aside, snapping at him from the contact. He had half expected Sephiroth to draw his blade in a single movement, impaling him for his insolence. It wasn’t a secret that Sephiroth hated touch.

But Sephiroth hadn’t. In fact, Sephiroth seemed to subconsciously lean into the touch, his eyes wide as the teen stared at him. Cloud had pulled away in an effort not to make the teen uncomfortable, but then Sephiroth followed him.

It started with a single brush. Their hands would meet when Cloud passed a bowl of stew to him when dinner was being served. Sephiroth would sit next to him, his left arm just shy of touching Cloud’s right while they ate meals. Cloud would brush dust off Sephiroth’s silver shoulder pauldron. Sephiroth would reach out and brush his fingers against the fabric of Cloud’s shirt. 

Then, they lingered. Sephiroth would hold the back of Cloud’s shirt when Cloud turned to walk back to camp. Cloud would grab Sephiroth’s wrist to pull him out of danger. Sephiroth would laugh with him, leaning on his shoulder for a brief moment to collect himself when Cloud would tell a joke. Cloud would pat him on the back.

It was inevitable that it would happen again. Before Cloud knew it, he had placed a hand in Sephiroth’s hair after another successful mission, a smile on his face as he ruffled the strands. Sephiroth laughed, leaning against the touch and reaching up to do the same to Cloud’s hair. Cloud dodged the ruffle, but Sephiroth chased after him, trying to catch him.

It wasn’t until Cloud woke up in the middle of the night with the teen buried in the covers pressed against him, did he wonder what on Gaia he was doing. He had only come back to defeat Shinra, not befriend Sephiroth. But when his eyes had landed on that silver hair and those green eyes, Cloud couldn’t help but want to save him.

Sephiroth pressed closer to him with a sigh, his nose against Cloud’s chest as his arm draped around Cloud’s waist. Cloud stared at his sleeping face and slowly relaxed.

For all of his strength, Sephiroth was still just a child at heart.

Cloud closed his eyes and wrapped his arm around Sephiroth’s back.

–

It was the first touch that wasn’t repulsive.

Sephiroth had experienced touch before. The cold touch of latex gloves. The feeling of steel against his skin. The rough hands that grabbed him to pull him into another room, another test, another experiment. Then the brush of disdain that came with it. The ones that recoiled away from his hair, his eyes, his skin. 

Sephiroth understood. They weren’t like him. They took comfort in touch, while Sephiroth did not. He never took offense to the fact that they didn’t extend their hands out to him, nor did their touches bring him comfort. Instead, every single brush sent a wave of repulsion through him, making him nauseous and ill.

Until Cloud.

When Cloud’s hand had landed in his hair, Sephiroth had half expected himself to recoil away from the touch. The warmth of Cloud’s fingers running through his hair, combined with the soothing words of praise had sent something washing over Sephiroth’s senses. His blade had fallen slack in his hands as he realized he was enjoying the contact, chasing after the warmth even when Cloud moved away.

He reached out to Cloud’s hands, his arms, his skin, just to see if Cloud would flinch away from him. He reached out, just to test his own limits, to see if the ruffle of his hair was a fluke, or if Sephiroth, himself, would recoil away from the touch. But Cloud never withdrew from him, even instigating the touches every now and then.

So he buried his face into the warmth of Cloud’s body, soaking up the heat to hide himself away from the cold Wutai evenings. He pressed his face against Cloud’s shirt every night, craving the comfort of Cloud’s touch.

There was something special about Cloud. Sephiroth would turn to him after every battle, both to ensure his safety and to hear the words of praise Cloud had to say. He crawled into Cloud’s bed at night, desperate for the presence of the man who brought him comfort.

If Shinra knew…

“Sephiroth?”

Sephiroth turned to Cloud, his eyes bright as he studied the serious look on Cloud’s face. Slowly, he sheathed his blade, turning fully to him to hear the words he had to say.

“I’ll have to go soon,” Cloud said quietly.

Something in Sephiroth’s stomach churned uncomfortably. Unhappiness brewed in Sephiroth’s expression, his whole body rebelling against the thought of losing the only source of comfort he had. 

“Did Shinra call for you?” Sephiroth asked quietly.

Cloud smiled, but shook his head lightly. There was a brief moment of confusion, but then Sephiroth took a step towards him.

“I’m coming with you.”

“Sephiroth…”

“I’m coming with you, Cloud.”

“It’s dangerous.”

“I don’t care.”

“Sephiroth…”

Sephiroth faltered, staring at him. The concern in Cloud’s voice was almost palpable. Cloud wasn’t worried about himself–judging by his abilities, there wasn’t much that could take him down. No, this concern was for Sephiroth. 

“Don’t leave me behind,” Sephiroth whispered.

Blue eyes stared into his soul, but Sephiroth reached for the comfort he had learned to know and crave. Cloud sighed, but embraced him anyway, allowing Sephiroth to stand by his side. 

[audreyscribes]

Ω PJO DEMIGOD HEADCANONS: 🌏 GAEA: PRIMORDIAL OF EARTH 👩‍🌾

Author’s note: *put head into hands* Alright, so I may or may not have went off from the usual formula (Do I even have a formula for writing these at this point?) and I think I may have made the primordial demigods here more cryptid cause they’re the literal by-product of primordial beings that are also half-mortal? I won’t be including the usual blurbs at the ending cause all of them are probably pushing the word limit Tumblr has but worry not, I made up for it by putting more storylines into the whole thing. PRIMORDIAL DEMIGODS MASTERLIST: [LINK]

You’re formed right as the war with the giants and Gaia has begun and afterwards. You’re not sure when you started to form but you could feel the clay that humanity was formed from, and the combination of all the blood and bones spilled by mankind and nature, and had been buried down within the earth. While you don’t appear monstrous or with any obvious monstrous parts like the King of Athens Erechtheus, you could feel the monstrous potential flowing through your blood. However, your skin and flesh feel too foreign to you for your own liking.

You came out of the ground, peering right up at Ouranus’ domain and felt anger and annoyance as that was the first thing you saw and not your mother’s domain.

As you can imagine being formed from blood spilled onto the earth, the bones of individuals buried both by violent and non-violent means, you have a preposition of anger and violence while also being very giving and nurturing. Just like Mother Nature. Fitting as you’re Gaia’s child.

You struggled to get used to having a physical form and the bones within your body. You almost fell over the edge once but you felt something grab you as you were helped upright, before taught how to walk. That was when you met the child of Tartarus, born and raised in Tartarus itself, and further nurtured by Gaea when she opened the Doors of Death.

With your broiling anger, you expressed a desire to take revenge for your mother against the gods and their heroes. The child of Tartarus did not explicitly cheer at your words, but agreed to follow you as they didn’t see a reason to deny you either. Together, you searched for the other primordial demigods as the child of Tartarus revealed you two weren’t the only ones.

As you can imagine, being a child of Gaea means you have the ability of Mother Nature; from the plants, water, rock, even calling forces of acts of Nature. However, due to how broad your power is, you have a hard time controlling it because as much as you can bring them forth, you can’t really control nature itself.

All aspects of the Earth seem to gravitate to you, listening to your whims and demands. Even the sea will part for you if desired as Pontus, the personification of the Sea, loves Gaea and follows her will. Animals will fall under this and no matter how dangerous the animal, the animal will follow you to your command. 

Careful how you use your power though. Your abilities are too much for your mortal body to handle, even if you’re a child of Gaea. Don’t try to take control too much of other’s domains when you face the god’s heroes. While you also can do the same as them, those realms are their’s and their godly parents. There’s only so much you can do but there’s much you can do as well.

As time goes on, your form can change like the clay it was once was. Gaea also being known being the mother of monsters and with evidence of her children/offspring having inhuman and monstrous, you also have the ability to have such traits; from growing scales on your skin to act as armour, or sprouting wings from your back to fly, you can switch as you will. Be wary though, if you stick with those forms too long, the monstrous aspects will take over and you may never become mortal in both body and mind.

Your key feature is your form. You look like a clay or stone sculpted and chiseled into a form of a human statue, perfect, flawless, but seemingly unreal. You can feel your mother’s blood coursing in your body, both nurturing and destruction. You can feel your delicate form barely holding the destruction underneath you and if you let it, you’ll find yourself turning into a monster, mindless, destructive, and unforgiving. Both features of Mother Earth.

[ishgard]

— B A S I C S

Name: Ahru Hiraeth Nicknames: Not a lot of nicknames actually, occasionally "Ru" Age: Early-Mid Thirties Nameday: 21st Sun of the 4th Astral Moon Race: Seeker/Keeper Gender: Female Orientation: Bisexual / Biromantic Profession: Adventurer, Warrior of Light

— P H Y S I C A L A S P E C T S

Hair: Naturally blond, light corruption left it bleached white. Eyes: Blue with a gold ring around the pupils Skin: Pale with warm undertones, tans easily Tattoos/scars: No tattoos, but many superficial scars and several less. A thin scar on the side of her face from sahagins when she was child. An 'overlapped' scar from Zenos and Elidibus across the chest. Lichtenberg scars along her left arm, old burns down her right leg, hip-to-knee.

— F A M I L Y

Parents: Both living. Ahnia Hiraeth, mir'amna ('mother') of the Hiraeth. X'rehn Tia, ex-Garlean assassin. Siblings: Nia'to Hiraeth (twin brother), Fianah Hiraeth (younger half-sister) Grandparents: Amazingly I haven't thought about them too much. In-laws and Other: X'rhun Tia (uncle), X'yehnia Rehl (cousin), X'vehl Tia (cousin, retainer) Pets: Arrow (chocobo), Grani (…Grani), Caesar (wolf 'pup'), Mochi (fat cat - King of the Rising Stones), Ardbert (black hayate - lives with Ryne and Gaia now), Baby (baby opo opo - not a pet this is her son)

— S K I L L S

Abilities: BRD/RDM main, MNK is always one broken weapon away from showing you why it's a bad idea to disarm her. Omniclasses p much everything but is worst at SMN/SCH. Her music weaves aether in such a way that it enhances her magical abilities, so even when utilizing her healing or destructive magics, she often weaves her bardwork into it. Hobbies: Traveling, making music, journaling, reading (in the past study of the Void has been her speciality and passion - but she's always had a soft spot for epics, romances, and such), knitting, cooking.

— T R A I T S

Most Positive Trait: She's got way more love to give than you might expect, she just sometimes has a hard time showing it. Open-minded/flexible, she's not often put-off or caught off guard and is very accepting (at times forgiving, to a fault). Most Negative Trait: Still getting over the trauma of 'people who get close to me tend to suffer terribly', which leads her to distancing herself. Really prone to wanderlust and violence (as in, loves a good fight). Good luck slowing her down and good luck getting her out of it if you got her in 'fight mode'.

— L I K E S

Colors: Red and Black (omg she's a gamer) Smells: Campfire smoke, cloves, leather, amber/incense, rarer but often enough the frosty fresh air of colder climes. Textures: Broken-in leather, furs (silky, soft and the more coarse), the smooth and sharp edges of a crystal. Drinks: Water, tea (specifically mulled tea), wine, ale. Partial to mint lassi's.

— O T H E R D E T A I L S

Smokes: Very occasional, with growing rarety. Drinks: Historically was your pretty average social drinker, swore off the stuff for a long period after being drugged multiple times, but more recently has started enjoying the occasional drink - her tolerance has dropped significantly to fun/humorous effect. Drugs: No; somnus in particular is a touchy subject. Mount Issuance: Arrow (chocobo) was a gift from Thancred welcoming her to the Scions. Grani was a gift from Emet-Selch, and is her primary mount esp. in places where Arrow can't go. Been Arrested: Amazingly not.

Tagged by: @ardberts, @gatheredfates, @sealrock, @myreia, @shroudkeeper - thank you all so much!!! I might honestly do more and use the tags as an excuse 😌 Tagging: @twelveswood, @thewitchofelpis, @eorzeanflowers, @thefrostflower, @allyennah, @mrlarkstin, @koijikido, @ubejamjar, @ungrateful-cyborg - and anyone else! (if you've already done it or don't want to ignore me <3<3<3)

[imliketheiceifreeze]

Recombinant Miles Quaritch x OC

My Little Scientist- Chapter One

Warnings: Smut themes, Minors DNI

2,182 words

Blue skin glistening with sweat moved over bulging muscles that showed years of dedication, beads of sweat dripping down a long neck before pooling at the clavicle. Gaia's tongue instinctively dipped out of her mouth to lick her lips.

"Quit eye fucking the colonel for once Gaia."

"I was not!"

She spat, tearing her eyes away from his tall form as he commanded his troupes so effortlessly in the heat of the Pandoran sun.

"Oh you so were, you've got it baaad for him."

Her good friend and fellow scientist June smirked.

"Ugh as if, that man is so.."

She trailed off, thankful to be interrupted by Mike.

"What are we talking about here ladies?"

He asked, slapping his food tray down beside them both, taking a seat next to June.

"Oh just Gaia's hopeless crush on Colonel Quaritch."

"Pahahah, oh I would not have expected that."

They both teased, much too loud for her liking as she covered her cheeks in her palms, attempting to hide her heated face.

"I DO NOT HAVE A CRUSH ON THE COLONEL."

She all but screeched, taking an aggressive bite from the bread roll in front of her.

"Oh so you just want to fuck him then, coz honey the way you looked at that man I thought you were about to go into heat,"

June jibed, both her and mike howling with laughter at their own hilarious nature.

"How would it even work? I mean their dicks must be at least 15 inches,"

Mike chipped in, watching intently as Junes eyes crinkled with laughter, small tear droplets forming at the corners of her eyes.

"Now who's the one thinking about their dicks?"

Gaia only mumbled, attempting to ignore them both to steal another glance at the colonel out on the field. She really didn't have a crush on him, as a scientist she just appreciated the technology it took to create such a brilliant warrior's physique- was all she thought as her eyes glazed over his massive forearms, striped like a tigers fur.

"There she goes again, earth to Gaia,"

June snapped her fingers in front of her face making her glower.

"Wow you really need to get laid,"

another man you didn't know too well mused, obviously eavesdropping on your conversation.

"Go away Abe, only me and Mike are allowed to tease Gaia, I'll absolutely destroy you if you upset my baby,"

June giggled, pinching her cheeks and cooing, causing her to swat her hand away and grumble in annoyance.

"Can you and Mike stop flirting in front of me its making me sick,"

she narrowed your eyes at Mike whilst June pretended to dry heave dramatically.

"Oh stop being grumpy because a certain someone hasn't noticed you,"

Mike Laughed halfheartedly, pushing at her forehead.

"Why don't you try and make a move Gai?"

June questioned, for once in sincerity. She were silent in thought for a moment before answering honestly.

"Come on, the Colonel's not gonna go for a girl like me,"

her eyes cast downwards a little as she attempted to hide her disappointment.

"Don't be like that, you're gorgeous trust me,"

June stroked her arm softly to cheer her up.

"You have to say that you're my friend,"

she whined, tipping her head back in frustration.

"Um I certainly do not, I can tell Mike he looks exactly like a sewer rat even though we're friends."

"Hey!"

Mike slapped her arm playfully causing them to fall into another argument as Gaia tuned out, thoughts mainly focused on a certain soldier and how they looked during strenuous physical exercise.

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

After her lunch, Gaia had settled back into the lab, running through various samples of Pandoran plants, yielding fascinating results about the connection between the planet and every living being. It truly was a wonderful place and how she wished she could inhabit her very own recombinant body.

A firm knock at the door ripped her from her thoughts and her eyes almost popped out of her skull at the sight of the Colonel himself stooping underneath the doorframe to enter her own tucked away laboratory.

"ahem,"

he cleared his throat, seeming a little out of place in such a small room.

"I was told I'd find the Na'vi expert here,"

he gestured to her, keeping a wide stance with one hand resting on his belt loops.

"Um I wouldn't say expert,"

she faltered, causing his gaze to harden.

"But I mean, I'm one of the scientists currently studying the interactions between Pandora and the organisms that inhabit it,"

she babbled nervously, the catlike golden eyes in front of her causing her to stutter as they seemed intent on holding her gaze.

"Gaia Ambros?"

He questioned, raising a brow, seemingly unimpressed at her insecure nature.

"Yep that's me sir."

"Well then.."

His grimace turned into a predatory smile, eyes glowing as they bored into her own intensely,

"They tell me that you're the expert round here darlin', How's about you give me some lessons in this whole Na'vi bullshit?"

He cocked his head to the side, causing her cheeks to heat up further at the nickname as she struggled not to let her eyes drop to admire his impressive form up close.

"uh...lessons?"

She asked incredulously, biting the inside of her cheek nervously.

"That's what I said lil' darlin', I don't like repeating myself,"

he tutted, growing impatient with this drawn out conversation.

"Um, well I guess I can teach you what I know about Pandora if you want sir... when would you like me to?"

She asked, craning her neck from her seated position to meet his eyes once again.

"In the evening at 19:00 sharp, come to my office,"

he commanded, not acknowledging nor thanking her for her offer as he turned to stride away, ducking under the door frame and vanishing as quickly as he had appeared, leaving her head spinning with possibilities as she tried to refocus herself on the samples in front of her that had long since lost their intrigue.

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

"He did what?"

June screeched in her ear as she tried to hush her on her way to the canteen.

"He just said he wanted lessons about Pandora,"

she attempted to speak calmly, knowing she had her first little meeting in only a few hours.

"Lessons my ass, there's gotta be another reason he wants you all alone in his office at night,"

she wiggled her eyebrows at Gaia.

"Maybe he just wants some relief after his long hard days as a Colonel, it must be so difficult,"

she mused, dropping into a deep register to impersonate his voice,

"Oh Gaia just try to fit it in, just the tip will be enough, yeah that's it, there's a good little scientist."

Gaia practically shoved her into the wall, storming off in front of her, attempting to purge the dirty scenarios out of her mind before she would have to be in a room alone with the man.

"Oh come on I was just teasing,"

June pouted at her, hoping to win her forgiveness.

"Sure,"

she murmured, taking her seat at the usual table beside Mike and a few of the other scientists. June then began a dramatic retelling of her story with the Colonel to the whole table, causing giggles to be heard all round as Gaia hung her head in shame, trying to fill the pit in her stomach with the food in front of you.

"Oh yeah, I set that up,"

Mike stated nonchalantly as he continued to eat the stew and stale bread provided by the RDA.

"You what?"

Gaia finally tuned back in, confusion set in her features as she wondered how on earth he could have.

"Pulled a few strings, got some RDA soldier mates and higher ups you know, just recommended you for one of their special missions, said you were keen to work with the Colonel yada yada... I guess it's not something they hear everyday,"

he snorted, making her eyes widen in shock for the second time that day. Cursing out at the thought that the whole ship now practically thinks she's begging for the Colonel's dick and she wished the ground could swallow her then and there.

"You can thank me later,"

he smirked, patting her back smugly as she sat stunned, still processing the news.

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

7pm unfortunately rolled around far too quickly and Gaia trudged her feet towards the huge recombinant Colonel's office, somewhat terrified of what would occur.

"Well there you are goldilocks, you gonna come in or stand there all day?"

Herr mouth ran dry, looking up at the sneering man as he gestured her into his office- equipped with an enormous chair, desk, even a Na'vi sized coffee mug sat on the table. It all made her feel a bit like Alice in wonderland if she was honest.

"Yes sir,"

she mumbled, stepping in tentatively and looking around in bewilderment

"Oh take a seat wherever you want darlin',"

he jutted his chin out, referencing her awkward stance as he calmly lowered himself in the chair behind his desk. So she took the liberty of attempting to drag another large chair to the opposite side of the table in order to face him, failing miserably as she found she was unable to even move the thing an inch, huffing in frustration at the pathetic display.

"Oh right, sorry there,"

a voice rang out from behind her and the chair was lifted from her hands by two much larger blue ones to place it effortlessly in the location she'd been struggling so much to bring it to. Half of her wondered if the colonel had purposefully not moved the chair prior to her arrival to watch her suffer.

"Um thanks,"

she murmured, blushing darkly as she eventually slumped down in the large chair, making an effort not to brush her legs with her superior.

"So what have you got for me today goldilocks?"

The nickname made her squint in annoyance, she'd almost prefer if he'd just come out and call her a dumb blonde.

"I was going to teach you about the connection between Pandora and the Na'vi people,"

she straightened herself out, watching him raise his eyebrows and smirk, his eyes telling her to go ahead.

She continued with her little speech for a while, as the Colonel eventually leaned his head on his hands, eyes studying her face curiously and allowing their legs to lean together comfortably in the tight space.

After an hour had passed she deemed it long enough and decided to end the lesson.

"Well that was... interesting,"

Colonel Quaritch mused, showing his fangs a little when he spoke.

"Hmm I'm glad you thought so,"

she replied attempting to ignore his sarcasm.

"Well I'd better get going,"

she began to push herself up from the chair but a foot knocked her leg out from under her, causing her to fall back down. She glared at the culprit, only causing his smug smile to widen.

"Not so fast sunshine, I have another proposition for you."

She gulped nervously, why did the question sound so suggestive coming from his mouth?

"u-m and what would that be sir?

"Calm down brainiac I'm not gonna force you to... anyway.."

he coughed, laughing to himself.

"I'm going on a mission to the Na'vi forest in the next three days, I would like you to accompany me and my troupes to help us...connect with 'Eywa'."

He seemed disbelieving of her teachings but nevertheless, she'd never pass up the chance to see Pandora up close.

"Absolutely Sir,"

she rocked forward in your chair in sheer excitement.

"Well then, ain't that outstanding"

He clapped a hand down on her shoulder, the force leaving shockwaves ringing through her body, reminding her of how pathetically weak she was in comparison with both the recombinants and any Na'vi people she might stumble upon during the mission.

"Sir,"

she tested the waters before propositioning her question to him. He raised his eyebrows in confusion, before quickly withdrawing his hand as though he may have offended her.

"I have a question for you."

"Well ask away sunshine I haven't got all day."

He crossed his arms over his chest, causing the muscles in his arms to strain against his taut skin, rippling whenever he shifted slightly.

"Well It's just as a human I'm so weak,"

she paused watching a smirk appear on his lips.

"In return for helping you and your soldiers, I'd like to request my own recombinant body."

"Ahh, I see sunshine, I think that can be arranged for you... since you've been so generous."

He looked down at her mockingly, though soon she hoped they would be on equal footings, more or less. She nodded at him, starting to leave, hoping he wouldn't kick her back into her seat again.

"See you in three days cupcake, don't make me wait."

He called after her and she had the slightest feeling his eyes were burning holes into her back as she sauntered away, feeling quite proud of the arrangement she'd come to.

[looking-at-the-deiwos]

Dhég̑hōm Mā́tēr

Or as I write it, Dhéghom Máter, also Dʰéǵʰōm Méh₂tēr. Her name means "Mother Earth"

She was also called Pḷtáwī or Pl̥th₂éwih₂, meaning "the Broad One", and dʰengwo, meaning "Dark" (dark-skinned?)

Dhéghom is Mother Earth. Associated with plants, nature, fertility, motherhood, cooking and agriculture. She also had a cthonic aspect, being considered both the mother of all life and the place where all living returned to with death. As an ever present mother, oaths were sometimes made by her.

She is sometimes seen as a partner of Dyéus, or of Perkwúnos (or both ;)). Both these sources consider the idea of her being both the mother and consort of Perkwúnos

Offerings

Taken from here

Stones

Symbols of deep waters, earth and grain

Depictions or imagery related to pregnancy

Grains

Green ribbons

Depictions or imagery related to breasts

Depictions or imagery of sows

Devotional acts

Gardening!

Wearing green or brown

Cooking

Educate yourself on local flora and fauna

Eat fruit and vegetables

Learn new recipes involving either vegetables or grains

Make bread

Honor the cycles of nature (seasons, etc)

Picking flowers

Drink natural teas

Ground yourself in nature

Associations

Stones

Vegetation

Fruit

Agriculture

Pregnancy

Motherhood

Landscapes

Sows

Green and brown

the feast of Mabon

November

Monday

Descendants in later pantheons

Cthonia (Greek)

Demeter (Greek)

Semele (Greek)

Plataia (Greek)

Gaia (Greek)

Terra/Tellus Mater (Roman)

Ceres (Roman)

Jörd (Nordic)

Prithvi Mata (Vedic)

Finally, here's her wikipedia article

[loominggaia]

TROLLISH CUISINE

(Here it is...by far the least appetizing of all the cuisine posts. WARNING: Disgusting content ahead!)

OVERVIEW

Trolls are naturally immune to almost all viruses, parasites, and high bacterial loads. This gives them a serious edge in survival, as they can safely eat many things that other peoples cannot, including rancid meat, toxic vegetation, and even manure. Trolls don’t like things that taste or smell “fresh”, and instead prefer very strong, putrid, and bitter flavors. The following are dishes that are eaten by trollish communities all over the World of Looming Gaia.

PLOPSLOP

The manure of a herbivorous animal, mixed with rotten milk, garlic cloves, and half-composted vegetables. The smell alone is enough to clear a room, but trolls find this strong odor as pleasant as the dish’s powerful taste.

REDJ

A redj is simply an egg that has been left to rot in its shell, then served once it has developed a putrid stench. Alternatively, redj can be prepared by cracking an egg in a bowl and covering it to seal in the moisture while it rots. Both methods produce similar results, but some trolls swear by one over the other to produce the best flavor.

GRSSI

A slab of meat is placed into a bowl with some blood. Flies eventually gather and lay their eggs upon it as it ages. These eggs hatch into grubs, which begin digesting the meat and excreting acidic juices that give it a particular flavor. Once the meat is completely infested, the dish is served, grubs and all. 

URIZLUUK

Urizluuk is a traditional alcoholic beverage that originated with Skadrik tribes in the Red Tundra, but quickly caught on with other trollish cultures worldwide. It is the fermented urine of a male goat mixed with ethanol. It has a high alcohol content that can get even heavyweight species drunk quickly, as well as a very bitter and sour flavor. In a pinch, the goat urine may be substituted for the urine of a male satyr, which is said to have a similarly unique flavor.

VOLZKRIZ

Animal blubber (typically from a whale or seal) is boiled with chopped up fish skins and then left to cool, forming a gelatinous chunk. The chunk is left to ferment for extra flavor. This dish originated with the coastal Skadgrik tribes of Halostira, but today, many variants of it are served worldwide.

ZLUB

This is not a meal in itself, but a sauce that is used to enhance other foods in trollish cuisine. To make it, slugs and snails are boiled to separate the slime from their bodies, then the bodies are pureed and mixed back in with the slime. Rancid vegetable oil and bitter herbs are added, such as chicory and dandelion, forming a very sticky, flavorful paste. This recipe originated with the Hukus troll tribes of Northern Wokina, but today it is popular in other moist climates where mollusks are plentiful. 

DUKLEKA

The preparation of this dish is highly controversial due to concerns about animal cruelty. In order to make it, captive rats are fed nothing but garlic. The garlic is not good for them, and kills them within a matter of days. The dead and sick rats are then force-fed to a pig-hawk, which had its cloaca sewn shut prior. The garlic-filled rats ferment in the bird’s intestines until it dies of bloat, then its intestines are eaten as a delicacy. This is one of the very few trollish dishes that can be eaten by other peoples, but even so, not many are willing to try it.

AKWI

Raw fish heads, left out in the sun for days until they putrify, then further flavored with salt, rancid butter, and onions. Sometimes the fish heads are substituted for other sea life, such as clams. Preparing this dish is easy; the hard part is defending it from wild animals while it lies in the sun, as its smell reaches far and wide. It is often placed in a covered pot to seal in moisture and hide it from pests.

SEE MORE

Cuisine Masterpost

*

Questions/Comments?

Lore Masterpost

Read the Series

[noircartoons]

The mother of all women,

A poem by Ofélia SQ @abstract-mind

The mother of all women is the iron maiden. My father raised me well, his ritual to turn me from girl to woman was cheating on my mom and leaving us three behind. My sister raised me well, her ritual to turn me from a girl to woman was making me learn how to be the mother of my sister. The mother of all woman is the sacrificial lamb. One day, as my sister made dinner, her husband told me he was a wolf and i was but a small sheep, ready to be devoured. My mom begs me to not take testosterone, i'll turn me into a brute. I pull out a cigarette and let my body get hidden in the fog. The mother of all women is Medusa. When i came to the doctor to see if something was wrong with my spine over so much back pain, he told me i was only shy about my chest because i didn't want boys looking at it. I wondered if i tried hard enough, i could turn into Medusa. My mom laughed when he told jokes about my shyness and my body, and would later on pull my arm saying i embarassed her with my silent stare. My hand itched for a cigarette. When i'm tired of voices on my ears, i dream i'm alone at the beach, feeling the freezing water against my feet. Are you proud of me, mother? I've accepted the iron maiden. Am i a woman, now? I feel the nails penetrating my skin like worms pushing against the skin of a cadaver. Your living room has Jesus christ on a cross. Is he a woman? I throw my cigarette on the dumpster, watching the fire like it's golden colors will paint the blues around it. Is this dumpster a woman? My mother tells me, this is the way things are meant to be. This is the very nature of life. Gaia is the mother of all women. Industries throw oil on Gaia, and i wonder if she ever wished she was Medusa. I walk around the streets like i own them, my shadow is the only thing that follows me yet i still look at the glass windows in buildings just to make sure. My lipstick sits on my lips as if i had drank a wine glass of blood and meat. I do not wear red, so it will not be confused with exposed flesh. The mother of all women is a cadaver. What a futile understanding of gender does the people my age have. If men and women alike will not abidicate their beliefs that I am but a meal for worms to penetrate, I abidicate my womanhood. Apologies to all women who i have abandoned, the women whose mothers were forgiveness— my father and my mother taught me well.

[bardic-tales]

Title: Lights and sirens

Pairing: Bianca / Sephiroth

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 936

Fandom: Final Fantasy 7

Warnings: Death, violence, emotional distress, supernatural themes, war/conflict, loss of a loved one, dystopian oppression, child endangerment, existential themes, doom/fatalism.

Summary: Bianca Moore is haunted by the death of her lover, Sephiroth, as she navigates the chaos unfolding in Midgar after multiple explosions. Plagued by his voice calling her to join him in the Reunion, she struggles with grief, loss, and her desire for release from the mortal world.

Prompt Filled: 270: Lights and sirens

Created for: @flashfictionfridayofficial

1.

Midgar, Gaia 0007

“Multiple explosions in the Mako Reactor,” the woman relayed from the tv through the quaint little room. As she sat on the armchair, Bianca Moore focused her attention on the reporter on the TV. As she leaned forward, the squeak of the chair conglomerated with the terror in the reporter’s voice.

“Come to me.” Bianca was captivated by the mesmerizing sound of a masculine voice, which seemed to caress her ears and fill the surrounding silence. In that moment, she had a fleeting sensation of someone’s presence behind her, their touch lingering on her right shoulder, but when she turned, there was no one there.

With each beat, her heart throbbed in her chest, mirroring the underlying dread carefully masked by the news anchor. Who said to come to her? Why did it sound so much like him?

In a state of confusion, Bianca’s head jerked from side to side as she tried to locate the elusive owner of the voice. It sounded like him, but it couldn’t possibly be him. Five years ago, Bianca witnessed his death, her voice echoing in despair as the spiky blond-haired trooper plunged a stolen sword into his back.

The familiar wave of sheer terror washed over her, as if five years ago was just yesterday, leaving her heart pounding in her chest. How long would it take for the grief to release its tight grip on her heart? Her rapid breaths hammered against her chest, but she leaned forward, desperately seeking comfort as she cradled her face with her shaky hands.

Her long brown hair fell gracefully down her back, dancing with the rhythm of her steps. As the past events unfolded before her mind’s eye, she attempted to avert the devastating outcome, the heartbreaking demise of the man she held dear, as madness consumed him.

As the thoughts from the past collided with the present, a sudden, forceful knock shattered the continuous hum of the television and its piercing alarm from the Emergency Broadcast System, urging everyone to remain indoors as Shinra tackled the terrorists.

She rose from the chair and sauntered to the door. Her heart still pounded, and as she reached for the doorknob, her hands trembled. It was a strange sensation: hearing the mortals crying out and watching the acrid smoke billowing in the distance like some black cloud washing over the plate, but not feeling anything except wanting the sweet release of death finally.

She, being an outsider to the Planet, experienced a paralyzing dread, knowing she could never join the Lifestream and be reunited with her departed lover. She wouldn’t rejoin the Celestial Realm either. Exiled from those lands, she bore the weight of her doomed love for the mortal man. The sensation of the Eternal Moonlight on her skin will forever remain beyond Bianca’s reach, causing her to miss out on its embrace.

If, by some tragic circumstance, she were to meet her demise, her physical being and inner essence would gradually dissipate, eventually ceasing to exist altogether. There was nothing that would prevent that fate. It was the true nature of an angel’s love for mortals and the willful defiance of divine laws. That was a fate far kinder than being trapped in the heart-wrenching memories of the harrowing events that occurred five years ago. Tears welling up in her eyes, and she quickly wiped them away.

Bianca cautiously peered through the slender gap between the slightly ajar door and the doorjamb. She watched as a swarm of people quickly dashed past her, their hurried footsteps fading into the distance. The sight of their battered bodies, wrapped tightly in thick bandages, was a sobering reminder of the violence they had experienced. Her heart sank as several more individuals walked past, their downcast eyes and slow pace echoing the weight of their sorrows. Staring forward with haunted and vacant eyes, they seemed oblivious to their surroundings.

Despite straining her eyes, she couldn’t glimpse who knocked on her door. Not a single soul stood on her stoop. As she stood there, another man hurried past, clutching a young girl tightly against his chest. The blaring sirens muffled the child’s screams and shrieking of terror, amplifying her sense of impending doom. The child’s face contorted with terror, tears streaming down her cheeks, as her wide, fearful brown eyes darted around the street, searching for the man’s reassurance as young children were apt to do.

A group of troopers, their tense bodies rigid, stood near the entrance of the Sector, the blinding beams of their spotlights scanning the crowd, casting eerie shadows on the faces of the onlookers. No one could escape their watchful eyes, but their loyalty was directly proportional to the amount of money Shinra paid them.

Shinra. She thought, as the man and young child now stood in line with everyone else who was trying to get out and away from the bombing. AVALANCE. That blond man who now pretended to be a SOLDIER. They were the source of all the terror and grief that permeated the air.

Surrounded by the pulsating blue lights of the ambulance parked next to her apartment, Bianca’s eyes welled up with tears as she bitterly observed how quickly the civilians carried on with their lives—even amid a tragedy. If he hadn’t died, he would have been sent here to help the civilians, or at the very least, she would have persuaded him to come and help her and the people who lived in the sector. Her grief weighed heavily on her shoulders. Fists clenching together, Bianca seethed with fury. How she wanted to expose the President and the board’s deceit at his supposed defeat by the monsters of Nibelheim. The fan club mourned him, but he was quickly forgotten about as they moved on to the next upcoming SOLDIER.

“It’s time, Bianca.” Once more, she heard his voice — Sephiroth’s voice— in her head. It was lulling and demanded to be heard, much like a siren luring sailors to their demise. “The Reunion where you and I will finally be one again. A melding of souls. Make your way North. Mother and I are waiting.”

For more Flash Fiction centered on Fantasy Worlds Collide, please see the tag flash fiction: fwc.

[plumbboo]

Wicked Roommates 6/8

Gaia Earthling | Plant Sim

And They Were Roommates…

Features: Skin | Skin Overlay | Veins | Skin Foliage | Sapling | Eyeshadow | Eyeliner | Lip | Contacts | Ankle Branches

Everyday: Hair | Outfit* | Bracelet Formal: Hair | Earrings | Bracelet | Outfit Athletic: Hair | Top | Shorts | Socks Sleep: Hair | Top | Underwear Party One: Hair | Necklace | Top | Skirt | Purse* | Heels Party Two: Hair | Necklace | Falling Leaves | Staff | Outfit & Wings Swimwear: Hair | Top & Bottoms Hot: Hair | Bracelet | Top & Bottoms Cold: Hair | Bracelet | Scarf* | Outfit

*tsr

This free-style plant sim loves anything to do with nature. She is known to be an outdoor enthusiast and enjoys spending most of her time in nature or taking care of her plants. She is a climate change advocator and fighter for protecting the planet. She reacts poorly to people harming the environment and will get angry if she sees you fishing or not taking care of your houseplants. Nobody is quite sure how she came into creation (or why she eats so many greens) but her kindness and passionate nature had grasped the hearts of her roommates.

Thank you cc creators <3

@northernsiberiawinds @daylifesims @okruee @seoulsoul-sims @sheabuttyr @belaloallure3 @gegesimmer @dansimsfantasy @astya96cc @pyxiidis @pralinesims @bluecravingcc @caio-cc @lady-moriel @simstrouble @serenity-cc @lordreboot @arethabee @simandy @clumsyalienn @simsonico @blahberry-pancake @sakuraflora @lamatisse

[tokyoteddywolf]

Ruler, is there anything that is edible to humans? Anne looks like she is nothing but skin and bones

Safe-safe-safe

Human-child-okay

If-corrupted-we'd-know-we'd-eat

Ghosts-love-to-eat-bad-energy

We-eat-from-Oddling-One

All-is-well

[Anne seems too worried to even consider taking the offered food. Seems one of the older siblings went out to gather food for the little human and the wyrmlings are bringing it to her.]

[Any remaining Shadow Energy has been eaten by the wyrmlings. The Ghost and Dark types of Gaia have a natural ability to consume corrupted energy and convert/digest it into clean energy.]

[thewhitefluffyhat]

barbie doll not in a barbie world

We know John based Alecto’s body on his favorite Barbie doll. Does that mean Alecto literally has Barbie Doll Anatomy as per the trope?

Like, no body hair, no female-presenting nipples, nothing but featureless smooth skin between her legs?

Because I agree that John didn’t intentionally put Alecto in a doll-like body to make her “sexy.” But what if - accidentally or not - he instead made her sexless?

So first of all, we know that Alecto-as-Nona finds Harrow’s scrawny, lumpy-brain, unattractive-by-popular-vote body to be beautiful. And yet, in Nona the Ninth, Alecto describes her own body as a “hideousness.”

Now, it could be that Alecto hates the body John made her just because he got the proportions kinda wonky, or because there’s something unique to the Alecto-body that keeps her trapped there unlike when she’s in Harrow’s body.

But I can’t help but also think of the passage where Nona describes the “cradle creature” that she drew to the Angel. Because she doesn’t defend her drawing on how creative, or beautiful, or accurate the doodle was:

Nona looked down at the animal she had drawn, and thought perhaps she understood. She said, “No, I made it up. It does work, I promise. See these things? They're its ears,” she said in much the same tones as she would have explained to Kevin. “This thing is its nose, and you can’t see it because I didn’t draw it, but the mouth is under here. When it was first born it used to live in a river, but then it got cold so it had to get large. I know the legs can’t rotate, but you don’t think that’s stupid, do you?”

Nona the Ninth, p251

Instead, Nona is completely focused on the fact that despite her doodle’s unusual features, it’s an animal that “works.” It’s a being that could live.

Is Alecto… not a being that “works”?

At the very least, Nona doesn’t seem to like or need normal human food. Presumably, Alecto was the same way. So her lacking an anus or genitals likely wouldn’t be an issue given that this is a woman who thinks rubber and graphite are a yummy snack. Also who, per Mercymorn, might not even have DNA.

So why would this matter?

It’s because there’s something especially potent and horrifying about taking the soul of Earth, of Mother Nature herself, and then forcing her into a body without a functional digestive tract or reproductive system. Not, to be clear, that people lacking those things are in any way less human or less worthy of life. It’s just… speaking of life and nature in the most broad and planetary terms, ’can eat and reproduce’ are the significant features that set living organisms apart from rocks. The uniqueness of which is also what sets Earth apart from every other planet in the solar system.

Plus there’s the way Gaia (the ancient goddess, not Kiriona) was somewhat associated with fertility and the harvest. Meanwhile Christmas tree fairies, Renaissance angels, Adam and Eve in their innocent state, Galatea the statue, Frankenstein who was denied a mate… they’re more associated with the opposite of that.

So when it comes to the symbolism of Alecto, there’s these Classical thematic connections between womanhood and abundance and fertility, now being placed in dialogue with a very Christian idealization of abstinence from food and sex. It’s Muir using two mythological building blocks and putting them in tension with each other.

(There’s also the building block of Māori traditions that Muir draws on with Alecto and her saltwater, though I am nowhere near qualified to comment on that… would love to read more about it, though!)

Last but not least, there’s the modern context to consider. Alecto’s body is specifically a Hollywood Hair Barbie. Hollywood formerly of the Hays Code, Hollywood now in the age of “everyone is beautiful and no one is horny.” The gilded facsimile of life, distanced from the messy, primordial desires underneath.

I don’t have any kind of grand thesis to tie all these observations together, but the juxtapositions are interesting, aren’t they? Especially in a series that is less shy than many about normalizing queer (often female) desire. In that context, taking such desires away would be a hideousness, wouldn’t it?

.

And you know, while we’re on this subject… it’s unclear whether Gideon can eat or feel arousal in her revenant form either. (Yes, I’m sure fanfic writers have opinions on this, but I haven’t gotten to post-Nona works in my chronological AO3 binge and we’re just talking about the text of NtN here.)

Did John take those pleasures away from Gideon too?

I hadn’t even really thought about all the Kiriona/Alecto parallels, but they sure are plentiful. John puts both women into bodies that seem superficially wonderful yet which they both resent and dislike. And they also both act/consider acting as John’s cavalier, with the implication that this is because they don’t have any other options or people who care about them. At least John seems to like their company, even as he manipulates and hurts the ones they love.

So yeah, what is with this dude and turning people into his perfect dolls? Once might have been an accident, but this starting to look like a pattern my guy.