#vanished: genesis

[lil-oreo-crumbles]

Meet the Main Four! {Vanished}

Kennadi, Carter, Adam, and Ella

The four main characters of my long-standing original story, Vanished (created in Oct 2018), pre-inciting incident (the titular “Vanishing”)

To put it simply, Vanished is about four high school Seniors stuck together after everyone disappears, and not only have to get along and repopulate the planet, but determine what caused the “disappearance” in the first place.

It’s a four book series and a WILD ride.

An official introduction to the four survivors!

Kennadi Myers, Student Body President of Kaye’s Creek Academy, and the protagonist of “Vanished”. An incredibly humble and selfless girl with a heart of gold, she is determined to love others unconditionally and bring them joy. Whatever the cost, she is determined to improve the lives of others around her. But will her endless dedication and sacrifice be her greatest strength, or the source of her downfall? As the designated leader of the four survivors, she’s determined to keep everyone happy and safe, ensuring everyone is healing and able to access necessary resources. But with the weight of this daunting task and her own survival at hand, how will she find out how everything happened, and is there any hope for a solution?

Ella Perez, Kennadi’s best friend and an undeniable hopeless romantic, who loves writing in her journal: poems, diary entries, stories, scripts, and songs. Having known Kennadi since middle school, the two have been tied at the hip as each other’s best friend. She is unquestionably Kennadi’s right hand, and will do anything to ensure her well-being. But Ella dreams of being more, determined to ask out the woman of her dreams to Prom. That is… until the vanishing. With survival on the line and the loss of everything she once knew, her personal romantic endeavors must be put on hold. But if one thing’s for sure, she’s grateful that she still has Kennadi in her life to rely and depend on in her hard times.

Adam Gadot, a reserved and quiet boy who lives his life in silence, preferring to remain in the background with his headphones blocking out any noise. He’s known Kennadi from a distance since Kindergarten, but they don’t know each other well. Hell, no one really knows Adam well. Not even Carter, a long time friend since the beginning of High School. All that’s really known is that he streams video games on various platforms with a sizeable audience, the rest is a mystery. With a past full of rejection and abandonment, trust is not something he lends out to anyone. But after truly losing everything in his entire life, learning to trust again is going to be a difficult process.

Carter Ryland, one of the most prominent and popular players on the Kaye’s Creek Academy football team! An incredibly social, hyperactive, extroverted boy with his entire future in College Football and (hopefully) the NFL planned out for him. He’s got some of the best friends he’s ever had, notoriety from his peers, and adoring parents. But with everything he’s worked for coming crashing down with the vanishing, emotional outbursts and anger rise to the surface. What will be the key to softening his hardened, yet fragile, heart?

YIPPEE HERE IS THEM 👏👏. Feel free to make assumptions about the characters and story, and DEFINITELY feel free to ask questions!!

[redrawthecolorlessworld]

[Rhymix] Side Story 1: The Dove and the Crow — Chapter 5: A Mystery and A Sudden Disappearance

i'm popping off kinda

———

...Only to be left with confusion.

Such a memory where the crow and the dove were being intimate with each other...

He doesn't recall experiencing such a thing.

"...Huh?" He mutters out, slowly processing what he had just seen. He feels compelled to call Momento over and ask her some questions—or, well, just one question.

Should he—

"Holy fucking shit I forgot ONE THING." Well...it doesn't seem like Trap Crow really needs to "call" Momento over anymore. "Hey, devil guy...girl...both, I saw some weird shit in that memory." The crow spares no time asking his question as Momento scurries around the area to find whatever he had accidentally left in here.

Upon hearing Trap Crow's question, the devil-God perks up, looking at the only other person in the room with a raised eyebrow. "Context?" He asks, before finally seemingly finding whatever he left here and picked it up. "That dove who keeps visiting me these past few weeks...did we ever had anything special between us?" Trap Crow questions nervously.

Momento thinks about it for a moment, before shrugging. "No...? Look, I never personally knew any of you people up until I supposedly got revived by Eternity. I wouldn't know jackshit." She answers, walking towards the main entrance of Trap Crow's prison area. "Wh- hey! Don't go yet! You're not lying to me, are you?!"

"...No???? Look, I'm busy today, I don't have time for stupid bullshit. JUST BECAUSE I'm the God of Memories that does NOT mean I'd know what memories anyone would see in those glass butterflies." Without saying any goodbyes, Momento quickly walks through the entrance, and soon enough, he's gone.

Trap Crow lets out a frustrated groan, before thinking back on that memory. If it is true, then when the hell did it even happen? Does him not remembering such a memory unfolding in his life have anything to do with the fact that he also doesn't remember how he even ended up in this cage to begin with?

"This is starting to give me a fucking headache..."

———

Weeks go by, and eventually, weeks turned into months.

It had been months since Ringed Genesis first decided to visit Trap Crow. Over the past few months of these visits, the two ended up getting to know each other a lot more. It's to the point where they can easily notice and even point out the most littlest details about each other.

The dove's also starting to feel such a strange connection with the crow. Though, of course, the strange mystery of that one memory isn't really easy for them to shake off either. Every night they'd think about that memory—replaying it in their heads as if it's a video.

Today, Ringed Genesis felt the need to visit Trap Crow again. His visits to Trap Crow's cage has become so frequent that he might as well go there every single day on every single opportunity he has. For some reason, he had taken a lot of comfort being in the presence of the crow, it's...odd.

Entering the Realm of the Almighty's prison faction, Ringed Genesis quickly takes notice of the rather tense atmosphere. He looks around, before finally spotting a panicking Momento, a worried Eternity, and a...notably pissed off Amazing Mighty. "Devil? Ms. Eternity? And Sir Amazing Mighty...? What is the matter here?" He quickly asks, catching the trio's attention immediately.

"Oh fuck- Angel! Have you- have you seen Crow around?!" Momento asks, his voice showcasing his messy state. Ringed Genesis frowns at that. "No. Why? Is he...not in his cage?" He asks again, and he could see Eternity nod. "Yes. Momento went to check on him this morning, but when he did, that crow's nowhere to be found."

"That damned crow...thinking he can just escape like that so fucking easily..." Ringed Genesis could then hear Amazing Mighty mutter. It seems like he's the most unhappy about this. "If you want, I can try to find him myself." The dove offers, and hearing that, Momento perks up. "Really?!"

"Yes, really. You can trust me to bring him back here safe and sound—"

"I'm not letting you be the one to find him."

Everyone immediately turned their heads to look at Amazing Mighty, who looks at Ringed Genesis with clear anger in his eyes. "But why? There is definitely something wrong here—you initially didn't want me to visit Trap Crow constantly, and now this?" Ringed Genesis asks, pure annoyance written all over his facial expressions as he then chuckles bitterly.

"What has gotten into you? Is there something you know that I don't?" He then asks again, crossing his arms as he then gazes intensely at the God. Amazing Mighty clenches his fist, trying his best to calm himself down, and once he did, he sighs heavily. "Trap Crow is dangerous. He has hurt someone in the past—someone who he supposedly loves and cherishes a lot."

Amazing Mighty then forces a smile, though his anger is still present from the way his brows are still furrowed. "Hah. Not even I would do such a thing to Felys." Ringed Genesis merely raises an eyebrow at that, before quickly stealing a glance at Eternity and Momento. Momento looks...annoyed, to say the least. But Eternity?

She looks beyond horrified.

"...Ms. Eternity?" Upon hearing her name, Eternity jolts up, before quickly calming down once she realizes it's just Ringed Genesis. "...Err...Genesis." She calls back. The dove nods at her, waiting for her to say something else. She then summons a shard of glass, glowing a bright shade of red, before hovering it over to Ringed Genesis.

"If things get drastic, and if the situation calls for it, use this." She advices, a serious look on her face. Amazing Mighty's eyes widened at that. "Huh? Hey, are you sure this is the right time for him to recall such...horrible memories?" He asks, and Eternity merely nods at him.

Momento, having his initial annoyance towards Amazing Mighty gone away, now wears a confused look on his face. Ringed Genesis, on the other hand, takes the shard of glass with him. After all, maybe Eternity's right. Besides, this could possibly be an anomaly shard—anomaly shards are much more stronger compared to normal ones, so he'll probably have use for this.

Now the only task he has?

Finding Trap Crow.

[kicksnscribs]

...

Why haven't they made a new Panzer Dragoon game?

[joycrispy]

Awhile ago @ouidamforeman made this post:

This shot through my brain like a chain of firecrackers, so, without derailing the original post, I have some THOUGHTS to add about why this concept is not only hilarious (because it is), but also...

It. It kind of fucks. Severely.

And in a delightfully Pratchett-y way, I'd dare to suggest.

I'll explain:

As inferred above, both Crowley AND Aziraphale have canonical Biblical counterparts. Not by name, no, but by function.

Crowley, of course, is the serpent of Eden.

(note on the serpent of Eden: In Genesis 3:1-15, at least, the serpent is not identified as anything other than a serpent, albeit one that can talk. Later, it will be variously interpreted as a traitorous agent of Hell, as a demon, as a guise of Satan himself, etc. In Good Omens --as a slinky ginger who walks funny)

Lesser known, at least so far as I can tell, is the flaming sword. It, too, appears in Genesis 3, in the very last line:

"So he drove out the man; and placed at the east of the garden of Eden Cherubims, and a flaming sword which turned every way, to keep the way of the tree of life." --Genesis 3:24, KJV

Thanks to translation ambiguity, there is some debate concerning the nature of the flaming sword --is it a divine weapon given unto one of the Cherubim (if so, why only one)? Or is it an independent entity, which takes the form of a sword (as other angelic beings take the form of wheels and such)? For our purposes, I don't think the distinction matters. The guard at the gate of Eden, whether an angel wielding the sword or an angel who IS the sword, is Aziraphale.

(note on the flaming sword: in some traditions --Eastern Orthodox, for example-- it is held that upon Christ's death and resurrection, the flaming sword gave up it's post and vanished from Eden for good. By these sensibilities, the removal of the sword signifies the redemption and salvation of man.

...Put a pin in that. We're coming back to it.)

So, we have our pair. The Serpent and the Sword, introduced at the beginning and the end (ha) of the very same chapter of Genesis.

But here's the important bit, the bit that's not immediately obvious, the bit that nonetheless encapsulates one of the central themes, if not THE central theme, of Good Omens:

The Sword was never intended to guard Eden while Adam and Eve were still in it.

Do you understand?

The Sword's function was never to protect them. It doesn't even appear until after they've already fallen. No... it was to usher Adam and Eve from the garden, and then keep them out. It was a threat. It was a punishment.

The flaming sword was given to be used against them.

So. Again. We have our pair. The Serpent and the Sword: the inception and the consequence of original sin, personified. They are the one-two punch that launches mankind from paradise, after Hell lures it to destruction and Heaven condemns it for being destroyed. Which is to say that despite being, supposedly, hereditary enemies on two different sides of a celestial cold war, they are actually unified by one purpose, one pivotal role to play in the Divine Plan: completely fucking humanity over.

That's how it's supposed to go. It is written.

...But, in Good Omens, they're not just the Serpent and the Sword.

They're Crowley and Aziraphale.

(author begins to go insane from emotion under the cut)

In Good Omens, humanity is handed it's salvation (pin!) scarcely half an hour after losing it. Instead of looming over God's empty garden, the sword protects a very sad, very scared and very pregnant girl. And no, not because a blameless martyr suffered and died for the privilege, either.

It was just that she'd had such a bad day. And there were vicious animals out there. And Aziraphale worried she would be cold.

...I need to impress upon you how much this is NOT just a matter of being careless with company property. With this one act of kindness, Aziraphale is undermining the whole entire POINT of the expulsion from Eden. God Herself confronts him about it, and he lies. To God.

And the Serpent--

(Crowley, that is, who wonders what's so bad about knowing the difference between good and evil anyway; who thinks that maybe he did a GOOD thing when he tempted Eve with the apple; who objects that God is over-reacting to a first offense; who knows what it is to fall but not what it is to be comforted after the fact...)

--just goes ahead and falls in love with him about it.

As for Crowley --I barely need to explain him, right? People have been making the 'didn't the serpent actually do us a solid?' argument for centuries. But if I'm going to quote one of them, it may as well be the one Neil Gaiman wrote ficlet about:

"If the account given in Genesis is really true, ought we not, after all, to thank this serpent? He was the first schoolmaster, the first advocate of learning, the first enemy of ignorance, the first to whisper in human ears the sacred word liberty, the creator of ambition, the author of modesty, of inquiry, of doubt, of investigation, of progress and of civilization." --Robert G. Ingersoll

The first to ask questions.

Even beyond flattering literary interpretation, we know that Crowley is, so often, discreetly running damage control on the machinations of Heaven and Hell. When he can get away with it. Occasionally, when he can't (1827).

And Aziraphale loves him for it, too. Loves him back.

And so this romance plays out over millennia, where they fall in love with each other but also the world, because of each other and because of the world. But it begins in Eden. Where, instead of acting as the first Earthly example of Divine/Diabolical collusion and callousness--

(other examples --the flood; the bet with Satan; the back channels; the exchange of Holy Water and Hellfire; and on and on...)

--they refuse. Without even necessarily knowing they're doing it, they just refuse. Refuse to trivialize human life, and refuse to hate each other.

To write a story about the Serpent and the Sword falling in love is to write a story about transgression.

Not just in the sense that they are a demon and an angel, and it's ~forbidden. That's part of it, yeah, but the greater part of it is that they are THIS demon and angel, in particular. From The Real Bible's Book of Genesis, in the chapter where man falls.

It's the sort of thing you write and laugh. And then you look at it. And you think. And then you frown, and you sit up a little straighter. And you think.

And then you keep writing.

And what emerges hits you like a goddamn truck.

(...A lot of Pratchett reads that way. I believe Gaiman when he says Pratchett would have been happy with the romance, by the way. I really really do).

It's a story about transgression, about love as transgression. They break the rules by loving each other, by loving creation, and by rejecting the hatred and hypocrisy that would have triangulated them as a unified blow against humanity, before humanity had even really got started. And yeah, hell, it's a queer romance too, just to really drive the point home (oh, that!!! THAT!!!)

...I could spend a long time wildly gesturing at this and never be satisfied. Instead of watching me do that (I'll spare you), please look at this gif:

I love this shot so much.

Look at Eve and Crowley moving, at the same time in the same direction, towards their respective wielders of the flaming sword. Adam reaches out and takes her hand; Aziraphale reaches out and covers him with a wing.

You know what a shot like that establishes? Likeness. Commonality. Kinship.

"Our side" was never just Crowley and Aziraphale. Crowley says as much at the end of season 1 ("--all of us against all of them."). From the beginning, "our side" was Crowley, Aziraphale, and every single human being. Lately that's around 8 billion, but once upon a time it was just two other people. Another couple. The primeval mother and father.

But Adam and Eve die, eventually. Humanity grows without them. It's Crowley and Aziraphale who remain, and who protect it. Who...oversee it's upbringing.

Godfathers. Sort of.

[tprings-hair]

I'm going to say something about the new unification short film that I haven't seen anyone here say yet.

I love the handholding scene. massively impactful. I love the echo of "this simple feeling" from the motion picture and the genesis reference and the idea that spock did not die alone or among strangers. it's just so satisfying after all this time to know that even shatner knew it was wrong and needed to be approached with more compassion for nimoy and the fans who loved these characters and knew they should be together at the end, whatever that looked like.

but you know what really got me?

this minute or so. kirk confronting his old selves. because that's obviously original series kirk right there in the gold uniform.

and the other? THAT'S HIM!!

(I'm linking it this way because you apparently can't add more than one video to a post and I need it here for demonstration.)

so we have present kirk walking down a dark hallway. at the end is spock, but at the end is also spock's death. how can he step forward and face that? what happened to the way he used to think about death?

yellow shirt is TOS kirk, who had always found a way around the problem and never (if the movies are to be believed) had to face death straight on. he's looking forward with confidence. there's no way spock is dying. there's a way out of this somehow, if only he can find it.

TOS kirk looks back the way he came, because he believes he can go back. he can always go back. the series always resets to the same characters who can be depended on to take similar actions, because that's what a serial is, and that's who he is. things have taken their toll on him, but he knows he can take the hit and keep moving.

but he stops when he's faces with WOK kirk. the one in the red dress uniform, who has lost spock and knows what it is to live without him. who has faced death in a way he had never had to before, because the constraints of the series never allowed it. he has been changed because of it.

TOS kirk sees that, and does that sort of posturing that he always does in front of someone who's threatening him. but WOK kirk isn't threatening him. he's just living through something TOS kirk hasn't had to face yet. it's him staring his past self in the face and telling him, kindly and firmly, you know nothing about how it will feel. you will never be the same without him.

and TOS kirk looks back again, and there's a present kirk, wearing his generations uniform. this is kirk having turned that grief to a desperate search for the most important person in his life, and emerged with spock by his side. he's not the same, but he's made it through. of course TOS kirk would look to that.

and as our kirk looks at these people he used to be, they vanish in front of him. he remembers the way he used to think about losing spock. the fear, the grief, the hope. there's no hope left. when he reaches the end, spock will be there, and it will be their last time together.

but he puts the pin back on, and reminds himself of his duty not just to a fellow officer, but to a friend, to the most important person in his life, and to himself. spock should not be alone, and he never got to say goodbye properly before. doing it now is the least he can do.

that's his ultimate responsibility in that moment: being there for spock. that's been his ultimate responsibility from the beginning. and this is shatner acknowledging that they deserved an ending that fit that truth.

[yutarot]

the forbidden fruit. — req by anon

genre: vampire!jaehyun x reader

warnings: mentions of death

wc: 2.7k

notes; i enjoyed writing this so much, thank u for the request!!

synopsis: your quiet life shatters the night you meet jaehyun—a dark, mysterious stranger who emerges only at dusk. you’re drawn to the intrigue of his haunted character, unaware he’s a centuries-old vampire, burdened by a past he longs to escape. though he tries to keep his distance, jaehyun can’t resist the warmth he finds in you. just as your connection deepens, a even darker rival appears, threatening to reveal jaehyun’s secret and tear you apart. now, you must decide: confront the darkness surrounding you both or risk losing a love that transcends life and death.

you never knew why, but he has always intrigued you. having recently moved back to your hometown to look after your late grandmother’s bookshop, you spend each day stacking books and listening to the crackling wire of her old radio. the weather always seemed to be an abundance of mist, the town nestled between dark forests and ancient mountains. but you never thought you would find love here, especially not with the mysterious, reserved, and almost cold man who lurked between the bookshelves every day before you closed.

at first, it didn’t bother you; you get regulars all the time. but there was something about his quiet intensity, always finding him lurking in the shadows, emerging only when the sun dipped below the horizon. it was strangely magnetic.

so that leads you to now, having to close the store early in order to accommodate some of your grandmother’s old friends. somehow lacking any kind of fear, you walk through the shelves in search of any lingering customers.

that’s where you find him, brooding yet strikingly handsome, holding a copy of twilight in his left hand, gently flicking through the pages with his right. almost immediately, he senses your presence. but he doesn’t look up, instead keeping his eyes trained on the page as he speaks to you.

“you know, i’ve always wondered what the apple on the cover represents,” he says, his voice shockingly gentle. “some say it shows their forbidden love, like the apple from genesis, morally wrong yet intriguingly good.” he puts down the book, slowly lifting his eyes to you. “but i think it’s more than that. i think it shows edward’s desire, his temptation,” he walks towards you, slowly, “his want.”

he stops in front of you, looking down at your expression of confusion.

“what about you? what do you think it shows?”

you’re quiet for a moment. “i think that edward is the forbidden fruit. he’s the bad decision she makes, he’s the sin.”

he smiles at your answer. “i’ve never looked at it that way before.”

gaining confidence, you reply. “meyer quoted genesis in the beginning of the book, but i don’t think it’s the romance that was forbidden. it was him.”

“you really know your stuff,” he replies.

“you’ve read all the books in here?” you say jokingly, but his answer catches you by surprise.

“just about.”

“what?” you laugh, “that would take, like, centuries.”

his eyes darken, jaw clenching. “something like that.”

you didn’t see him for a few weeks after that. he had vanished, completely and utterly removed from your life but, never, from your mind.

he was all you could think about. every passing day you searched for him between the darkness of the bookshelves, his dark hair, his tall frame, but you never found him.

that was until the day you decided to leave the bookshop. you don’t usually leave to go on walks, but amidst the autumn breeze, you needed a break from the essence of old paper and ink.

the leaves crunching beneath your feet and the frost nibbling at your cheeks, you find comfort in the environment around you. it was dusk, your favorite grey color of the sky setting a backdrop for the orange hue of the trees. walking past a frozen lake, you take in the sights, scanning your eyes around to take it all in.

suddenly, you feel a chill arise along your skin.

you aren’t alone.

you turn frantically, feeling the presence of someone moving around you, but your movements quickly betray you as you stumble on your feet, falling backward.

processing what just happened, you stay seated, the urge to get up and leave mysteriously absent.

something—someone—is making you stay.

and that becomes immediately clear the moment you hear his voice.

“yn ln.” it’s the man from the bookshop.

you’re taken aback. “how do you know my name?”

“i’m not stupid.”

“what?”

“you were watching me in that bookstore, ever since the first day i visited, and now your heart aches at my absence. do you wish to explain?”

your heart races as you watch his jaw clench. explain? your mind whirs in circles. in all honesty, you have no idea.

but he’s right. your heart does ache.

he continues, “i was away.” he offers his hand to help you up. “on a trip.” you take his hand.

immediately, the chill you felt before returns. his hand is cold, lacking all and any warmth. it was as if he were sucked dry of life, completely and utterly soulless.

you gain balance on your feet before you speak up.

“who are you?”

that singular question seems to dull his senses, the smile on his face wiped clean.

“who am i?” he repeats, eyes darkening like they did in the bookshop. he thinks for a moment before continuing, “walk with me.”

and so you do. you walk with him. stride after stride, he tells you about his life, about growing up in the neighboring town, about his mother who passed giving birth to him, and about his friends back in his hometown. you listen, not only to his stories but to his voice. it’s soothing, gentle, and something tells you that you’ll wish to hear more of it. but you notice there are important details missing; there’s something he’s not telling you.

when you both reach your bookstore again, he halts, signaling he’s dropping you off.

you walk to the door, but remembering your heartache at his former absence, you call out to him.

“when will i see you again… uh…” you pause, his name unknown to you.

“jaehyun.” he smiles, “and you will see me when you need me. it only takes patience, love.”

with that, you smile back, turning to put the key in the lock. but when you turn back to wave him goodbye, he’s gone, the place where he stood now only a puddle of brown leaves, encased in frost and the scent of the tall, dark stranger you now know as jaehyun.

in the weeks that followed, you saw him more frequently. each time he came into the bookshop, you would pass him a smile, and he would sit, engrossed in the worlds of the books he’s reading. each day you would talk about your shared interests, and each day your curiosity grew. you wanted to know everything about this man. it wasn’t just his looks that intrigued you; there was something aurally magnetic about him. the way he looked at you, like you were something he couldn’t have but desperately wanted. you wished to uncover why.

he had just picked up an edition of crime and punishment by dostoevsky when you come over to him, a warm mug of tea in your hands.

“i brought you this; you must be cold.”

he looks between the tea and you, a polite refusal in his eyes.

“…or not.”

he chuckles at your ability to read him. no one else has ever been able to do that to him. no one, until he met you.

jaehyun doesn’t come back for the books; he’s read every book in this little town bookstore. yet, each night, he finds himself at the front door, hoping for a chance to see you.

he doesn’t want to see you, he doesn’t want to talk to you.

but he needs it.

he folds the book over in one hand, leaning back in the soft, green velvet armchair you’ve placed in the corner of the bookshop.

he speaks, surprising you again with the softness of his voice. “i think it’s interesting.”

your brow twists in confusion before he continues.

“raskolnikov seems alienated from society, no matter what he does or how he does it.”

you listen intently.

“yes, he’s a murderer. but even before then, it was always his pride that separated him. it’s fascinating.”

“you enjoy literature a lot, don’t you?” you say.

he laughs. “a little. why else do you think i’m in here so often?”

a secret part of you was hoping for another reason for him to be here. but your mind was its own fantasy, unrealistic and yet completely tempting.

“you’re different from all the rest of my customers,” you reply.

this makes jaehyun’s face contort into an expression you’ve never seen him wear before: hope.

“how so?”

“i’m not entirely sure.”

your breath catches, caged by the fear of him suspecting the feelings that linger. but it’s almost as if he can hear your heart, beating in your chest. because you’re sure that he knows.

your conversation is abruptly interrupted when you hear the bell to the bookstore door ring, signaling that you’ve got a new customer.

“i should probably go and… yeah… enjoy the book!” you say to jaehyun, who laughs at the way you so easily panic over the tiniest situations. from an outsider, it would seem that someone had walked in with the intention of blowing the place up with the way that you reacted.

as you turn the corner to approach the customer, the chilling feeling you felt at the lake begins to fade into you. it makes you wonder if you were wrong about it, presuming it was just something you felt around jaehyun, but it made no sense. you’re walking away from him.

interrupted again from your thoughts, you arrive at the door, the customers back to you.

you reach up to tap him on the shoulder.

“hello, how can i hel-“

his hand covers your mouth.

“save the talking for when you need it.” the stranger whispers, as you push his hand away.

that was rude, you think to yourself.

the stranger continues. “im looking for… something.”

“what is it? maybe i can help you? it is my store..”

“hmmm. it’s about 300 years old, pretty.. local..”

you furrow your brows. 300 years?

“well, sir that could be anything. gullivers travels, candide, paradise lost?”

his eyes glimmer with amusement. “no, no, none of those. i’ll just have a look around myself.”

confused but albeit very annoyed by the man’s lack of respect, you allow him to look for himself. and you find yourself on your way back to where jaehyun is sitting.

only when you get there.

jaehyun is gone.

but the book remains on the green velvet armchair, open on its final page. you read the words in which had been underlined.

‘They wanted to speak, but could not; tears stood in their eyes. They were both pale and thin; but those sick pale faces were bright with the dawn of a new future, of a full resurrection into a new life. They were renewed by love; the heart of each held infinite sources of life for the heart of the other.’

you threw the book back down, the final sentence echoing over and over in your mind.

your heartache, his cold demeanour. it was as if you both needed each-other for the simple aspect of life.

startling you, you hear a bang across the other side of the bookshop.

you turn on your heel, pushing the thought of jaehyun to the back of your mind as you waver your way through the shelves. but your attempt to disregard your thoughts of him is soon in vain as you find him, holding the stranger by his collar against the shelf. jaehyuns eyes are the darkest you’ve ever seen them, his skin the palest it’s ever been. and his teeth.

you gasp to yourself, clutching your chest and trying to hold yourself up against the bookshelf.

you don’t recognise him, but he looks more like himself than he ever has.

his head turns in your direction and immediately his visage returns to normal, the stranger he’s holding removing jaehyuns grasp on him, chuckling to himself with a smirk.

your mind is spinning.

“so this is why you haven’t come home.” the stranger says to jaehyun.

his words from before come back to you. ‘hmmm. it’s about 300 years old, pretty.. local..’

he wasn’t talking about a book. he was talking about jaehyun.

you have nothing to say, nothing to feel or even think.

but the unease you felt about him before, seemingly has vanished.

everything you had been questioning. everything you were unsure of, has been answered.

the stranger continues, “i knew there was a reason. but i never would have suspected this.”

jaehyuns fists clench, knowing he can’t do anything with you here.

“your choice.” the stranger says to jaehyun before turning to you. “and by the way, pretty, im jungwoo.” he winks, before walking out the door and vanishing soon after.

you stay completely, and utterly still. jaehyuns eyes are only on you. he can’t tell what your thinking and it drives him utterly insane.

“are you okay?” he asks, stepping closer to you.

you should flinch, you should tell him to get out.

but you can’t.

you nod, slowly and indefinitely.

“i didn’t want this to happen,” he says, walking closer, slowly as to not scare you, “but you..”

you look up at him.

jaehyun holds a hand out to push a strand of hair from your face, gently. “you’ve done something to me.”

your eyes widen. but you can’t help but nod, a silent yet powerful indication of the way your feeling. but you know now that he can hear your heart, he can hear the reaction he has on you. he knows it’s not fear. it’s love.

he looks between both of your eyes, soaking in the feeling of being able to breathe in the same air as you. his hand finds your cheek and he leans down, everything is so slow, so gentle.

but before his lips could find yours. he stops himself, his brows crunching as if he’s in pain, hurt by having to let you go like this.

your eyes are full of questions. “why did you-“

“i can’t.” he says, sternly. “i can’t kiss you.”

“why not?”

his jaw clenches, his hand remaining softly on your face.

“i have a choice to make. this only makes that so much harder.”

“what choice?”

he gulps. you’ve never seen him nervous.

“either, i return to my family.” his hand brushes through your hair, reluctantly, and he pulls it away just as he states his next words. “or he tells my father.”

“what will happen if he told your father?”

he looks down, pain on his features.

“he’ll kill you.”

that’s when you realise. the forbidden fruit. it’s what he feels for you, what you feel for him, thats the sin.

‘but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, thou shalt not eat of it: for in the day that thou eatest thereof thou shall surely die.’

he disappears, vanishes into nothing, as you stand, warmth returning to the air around you.

you let him go.

the next few weeks are tiresome. he hasn’t left your mind, and you haven’t left his. pain envelopes you everytime you think of him, soaring through your memories like dust in a cloud of wind.

in attempts to clear your head, you decide to take a walk again. the fog is heavier this evening, weaving through the trees and laying around the lake as if it were a blanket, soft and comforting.

you listen to the birds, melancholically singing away at eachother. but it only reminds you of your loneliness.

you long for him, mind and soul.

riddled by the effects of the winter air, the breeze makes you shiver. but when the cold doesn’t let up, the feeling oddly familiar, you turn.

there he is. standing before you, a tormented expression of a tortured soul, resting on his features.

this time, you walk to him. this time, you’re completely certain.

you stand before him.

“id rather die in the arms of certainty than to live without a chance.” you breathe, watching him intently.

but he only smiles, searching in your eyes. and at last, he presses his lips to yours.

he’s soft, yet firm.

he shouldn’t want you, he shouldn’t need you. but he does.

for if you died, it would be for this moment.

‘even more, i had never meant to love him. one thing i truly knew–knew it in the pit of my stomach, in the center of my bones, knew it from the crown of my head to the soles of my feet, knew it deep in my empty chest–was how love gave someone the power to break you.’ — stephenie meyer, twilight.

[rottenpumpkin13]

there's a racoon in the vents, stealing all the snacks

The Raccoon Incident? The Raccoon Incident.

For once, Sephiroth overcomes the shyness and anxiety that usually comes off antisocial, slipping out of his office when someone mentions cake in the break room. It's one of those lavishly delivered to SOLDIER as part of a corporate partnership—complete with a gift basket, flowers, the whole ordeal.

He picks out a generous slice, retreats to his office, and sets the plate carefully on his desk. But then be shifts his hand, accidentally knocks a pen to the floor, bends down to reach for it, and when he springs back up—the cake has vanished.

Sephiroth: ………..?

*Zack walks in*

Zack: Did you hear we got cake in the break room?

Sephiroth: Yes, I even went and got myself a slice. But the moment I set it down and turned my back for two seconds, it vanished. I'm sure there's a logical explanation for this.

Zack: Aha! You got swindled by the elusive vent raccoon!

Sephiroth: ……

Sephiroth: Like I said, I'm sure there's a logical explanation for this.

Zack: No, seriously! There's a raccoon loose in the vents. It steals food the second you look away. My first encounter was two weeks ago—I set down my sandwich, went to the bathroom, came back, and there it was, paws-deep in my lunch!

*Sephiroth walks towards the door*

Zack: Where are you going? Are you gonna tell Lazard? *gasp* Are we finally gonna capture the greedy bastard? Are you assembling a raccoon capturing squad??

Sephiroth: I'm going to get more cake.

Zack: ....

Zack is dead-set on capturing the raccoon now, and tires to alert Angeal and Genesis about it. They don't believe him either.

Zack: I'm telling you, it was a raccoon! I saw it in the men's room last week too. It was fluffy and had dark circles under its eyes, kept washing it's hands and wanted snacks!

Angeal: Are you sure you didn't just see Genesis before his morning coffee?

Genesis: You may think you've insulted me, but I actually appreciate raccoons. I'd be devastated if something happened to the poor creature.

Zack: So you believe me?

Genesis: Naturally. Just last week, I had a jelly donut on my lunch tray. I leaned down to pick up my fallen fork, looked back up, and it was gone. The raccoon must've taken it.

Sephiroth, raising a hand: Actually, that was me.

Genesis: !?

Sephiroth: Angeal gave me that emotional healing book, remember? It says not to deny myself things I want, so I'm applying it to everyday life.

Angeal: I'm proud of you.

Sephiroth: Thank you.

Genesis: 💢

Since Angeal doesn't believe him, Sephiroth is doubtful and Genesis is more concerned about the jelly donut Sephiroth owes him, Zack decides he needs backup and enlists Kunsel for the mission, sending him on a reconnaissance sweep through the vents.

*Kunsel drops down from the ceiling, dusting himself off*

Zack: So? Did you find it??

Kunsel: No raccoon…but I did crawl over Angeal's office and saw him venting to his plants about the price of milk in Midgar. Then I passed Genesis' office—caught him aggressively making a Sephiroth bobblehead and an Angeal bobblehead make out. Then I slipped over Sephiroth's office, where he had stolen the rest of the cake from the break room. And when I hovered over Lazard's office, he was updating a giant bulletin board titled "Plans to Take Over Shinra."

Zack: But no raccoon?

Kunsel: Not a whisker.

Zack: Damn it! Never send a boy to do a man's job.

*Angeal, Sephiroth, and Genesis approach Rufus and Tseng, both watching Darkstar as she barks up at the vents*

Sephiroth: Is it the alleged raccoon?

Rufus: She's definitely unsettled by something.

Angeal: Hm…maybe Zack was onto something after all. If there's a raccoon raiding the vents and stealing food, we should've taken him more seriously.

Sephiroth: I agree. A raccoon loose in the vents could pose a health risk.

Genesis: The raccoon didn't steal my jelly donut.

Sephiroth: I told you I'll replace your donut.

Genesis: Hm.

*Darkstar keeps barking and growling*

Tseng, sighing: Since you're all informed, I'll entrust you to handle it. Just imagining that thing crawling through the ducts, spreading who-knows-what, is already giving me a headache.

*Zack pops out from the vents, covered in dust*

Tseng: !?

Zack, breathless: You're not gonna believe this, but I saw the raccoon and chased it! It has stolen the cake Sephiroth stole from the break room.

Angeal, turning to Sephiroth: You stole the cake from the break room??

Sephiroth: No, I just didn't deny myself the things I want. Just like your book said.

Angeal: I should've gotten you a coloring book instead.

Genesis: Or perhaps a jelly donut so he wouldn't feel inclined to steal mine.

Sephiroth: LET IT GO.

Genesis: NEVER.

*Lazard strolls by and catches the group setting up a makeshift cage trap lined with snacks, with a long string disappearing behind their hiding spot*

Lazard: ...What exactly are you all doing?

Zack: We're setting a trap for the elusive vent raccoon.

Lazard: Is that why Sephiroth has the VP's dog?

*They glance over to see Sephiroth, who's cuddling Darkstar*

Sephiroth, unfazed: I wanted a dog, so I didn't deny myself one.

Lazard: You stole the VP's dog.

Sephiroth: It's called self-care, Director.

Lazard, exasperated: Fine, do what you want. I have enough on my plate. Speaking of which, that executives' brunch I was organizing? All the food vanished at the last minute. Every last bit.

Genesis: Most likely the work of the raccoon. Unless jelly donuts were stolen. If so, that was Sephiroth.

Sephiroth: .....

Lazard: As convenient as that sounds, I find it hard to believe a raccoon could swipe an entire banquet's worth of food from within the vents.

Angeal: Our working theory is that it escaped from the labs, another one of Hojo's experiments gone rogue.

Sephiroth, still giving Darkstar enthusiastic belly rubs: Yet another curse of Hojo's. Rest assured, Director, we'll handle this.

Genesis: And once we catch it, you can finally get me another jelly donut.

Sephiroth: Why are you emotionally attached to that jelly donut??

*Suddenly, a loud scuffling noise sounds from the vents above. They freeze*

Zack: It's the raccoon! Hide!

*The group dives behind the corner just as a massive, fuzzy creature plummets down from the vent. It's definitely not a raccoon. Zack yanks the cord, trapping it inside the cage.

Genesis: OH. IT'S A RAT.

Zack: IT'S A GIANT, MUTATED RAT.

*The rat snarls then rips open the cage door with an unnatural strength*

Angeal, horrified: AND IT'S FREAKISHLY STRONG.

Zack: RUN!

*Angeal, Genesis, and Zack bolt, shrieking down the hall as Darkstar barks furiously, darting after the rat*

Sephiroth: .....

Sephiroth: And to think we're all supposed to be highly trained operatives. We shouldn't scream, lose our cool, and flee from harmless creatures. And most of all, we should respect each other.

*Genesis sprints back around the corner, still screaming*

Genesis: YOU STILL OWE ME A JELLY DONUT!

Sephiroth: IF YOU MENTION THAT DONUT ONE MORE TIME GENESIS I'LL PERSONALLY RETURN YOU TO THE GODDESS!

[altocat]

miniroth but he's smitten over babygeal would be such a cute

Babygeal: "...and that's why Genesis isn't here with us. Oh hey, where'd you go, Seph? You vanished on me there for a moment."

[Miniroth holds up a crushed-up wildflower to him. He is incredibly red and sweaty and totally off his shit]

Miniroth: "I GOT YOU THIS."

Babygeal: "...oh."

Miniroth: "IT REMINDED ME OF YOU."

Babygeal: "Oh that's cool. But uh, listen buddy I think it's kind of dead."

Miniroth:

Miniroth: "IT'S A FLOWER."

Babygeal: "Yep. I can see that. Hey, are you feeling okay? Your face is kind of weird."

Miniroth: "...............................IT'S A FLOWER."

Babygeal: "WHY ARE YOU SHOUTING?"

Miniroth: "DOES WUTAI HAVE HOSPITALS I'M HAVING HEART PALPITATIONS ASDFGHGDSFGFDS"

[reality-detective]

Chapter 3: The Great Unmasking

They told you to look the other way. They fed you lies to keep you docile. But now, the storm brews closer, and the masks are slipping. The elites you worshipped—the politicians, the celebrities—they’re no longer untouchable. Putin has uncovered the map, a trail of blood connecting the globe, a sinister web of power, greed, and unspeakable horrors. But this isn't just about adrenochrome anymore.

Sources within the Kremlin are reporting new, explosive intelligence: biotech labs hidden within these adrenochrome farms. These aren't your average science facilities—these labs are conducting grotesque experiments, fusing human DNA with something else. Something inhuman. Hybrid creatures, bred from stolen children, designed to serve a new world order.

This is where it gets even darker: these labs are not just about adrenochrome. They’re breeding grounds for something worse—a new race, a twisted vision of humanity controlled by the elites. Engineered in secret, these hybrid children are created to be obedient slaves, designed to feed the hunger of those who seek dominion over the world. These labs are also where the strongest of the children, those who survived years of unimaginable pain, are converted into living weapons—super soldiers, molded for one purpose: to protect the very system that feeds on their suffering.

The Adrenochrome Task Force has been keeping tabs on these labs for years, but their reach didn’t go deep enough. Not until now. The recent raids revealed hidden vaults, where files on advanced genetic modifications were stored. This information is what’s driving Putin’s new offensive: a global operation to dismantle these hybrid labs and burn down the network behind them.

And here’s the shocker: it’s not just Russia on this warpath. Anonymous sources within the U.S. military confirm that a faction of high-ranking officers, disgusted by what they’ve uncovered, are preparing to join forces with Russia in a covert strike. They’re calling it “Operation Genesis.” This isn’t about geopolitics anymore—this is about reclaiming humanity from those who would twist it into something unrecognizable.

The elites are panicking. Hollywood big names are fleeing, political figureheads are vanishing overnight, leaving only cryptic resignations and suspicious accidents in their wake. Do you think these are coincidences?

The global cabal is scrambling. They know the clock is ticking. There are whispers of bunkers being filled with food, money being moved offshore, preparations for an event that could wipe the slate clean. But it’s too late for them. The world is waking up.

The final hour is almost upon us. The reckoning has begun, and no one is safe—not even those who hide in plain sight. This war is not just for land, nor for power—it’s a battle for the future of the human race. Are you ready to fight for it? 🤔

[pen-and-umbra]

Ever Crisis's intriguing development could have far-reaching consequences for the Remake's finale. With it, the circulating theory about Sephiroth assuming a new role just got a boost.

I had suspicions that Ever Crisis was being clever with its storytelling. This was the first scene that caught my attention.

Glenn's team briefly touches upon how secrets as well as childhood memories end up in the Lifestream. The focus on Sephiroth's adolescence in the title makes this detail quite telling.

In later chapters, Sephiroth's cherished necklace, holding a picture of his mother, is also cast into the Lifestream. In a possibly related context, Lifestream Black indicates that OG Jenovaroth discarded his human memories, including those of childhood and friends, to retain independence in the Lifestream and prevent assimilation by the Planet. By discarding these additional memories and linking himself to Cloud, he furthered his agenda in Advent Children. These memories also make their way into the Lifestream.

Previously, the relationship between these tidbits and EoC!Sephiroth was speculative.

Players have observed stark contrast in Sephiroth at the Edge of Creation: his livelier expressions and defensive fighting style against Cloud, reminiscent of past battles with Angeal and Genesis in the VR simulator. Notably, the distinction in pronoun usage was emphasized: masculine 'ore' instead of Jenovaroth's gender-neutral 'watashi,' reflecting the symbiotic relationship between post-Nibelheim Sephiroth's body and Jenova cells that Jenovaroth fixes his lower body with. Drawing from these observations, some fans have theorized that EoC!Sephiroth showed a stronger connection to his human side. With Ever Crisis' latest chapter, that inference is no longer theoretical. Sephiroth at the Edge of Creation mysteriously possesses human memories.

Now, Edge of Creation can be thought of as a smaller-scale pocket dimension, akin to Destiny's Crossroads. Fascinatingly enough, its emergence is accompanied by colorful glow effects, not too unlike the effects of branching universes introduced in FFVII Rebirth.

It appears to be stranded between two universes, as represented by the two separate nebulae in the backdrop. According to developers (courtesy to aitaikimochi translated Ultimania bits), one of them alludes to Sephiroth's winged appearance and was intended to evoke imagery of his menacing presence. I can only imagine it referred to his Safer Sephiroth form.

The red one, on the other hand, displays some parallels to Jenova's monstrous appearance (courtesy to u/nzivvo pointing that out). Thus, EoC! Sephiroth is stuck between “Sephiroth's menacing presence” and “Jenova” figuratively.

And yet, EoC!Sephiroth indicates a desire NOT to vanish/end [presumably as a result of worlds merging?]. As he does so, he glances at "Sephiroth's menacing presence" nebula

So who is EoC!Sephiroth? Various interpretations align with the newly introduced lore. It could be Sephiroth who regained his human senses sometime down the line — a singularity-like dimension appears to exist beyond time-space and is connected to all points in time, just like Destiny's Crossroads. It could be a fragment of his spirit—his human memories, hopes and dreams creating an 'alternate world' within the Lifestream. It could be Sephiroth from some other “world”—perhaps, a timeline where he never went insane and never took a dive at Nibelheim. At any rate, he seems to be trapped in that bubble dimension, which is also destined to disappear [become part of another world] one day, a fate he seemingly opposes. Interestingly, in Aerith's "dream world," it is revealed that she was hiding in one of the worlds that was purportedly "ending" or "embracing its fate [to be merged/vanish]”.

Such circumstances share uncanny similarity to the ones EoC!Sephiroth is facing. Therefore, it's possible that EoC! Sephiroth isn't sealed/trapped by external force per se, but is concealing his presence. For what purpose? That remains to be seen. Peculiarly, FFVII Remake Ultimania provides different entries for Sephiroth we encounter at the end of Midgar’s highway and Sephiroth we talk to at the Edge of Creation.

Moving on. From a storytelling standpoint, it's deliberate that at the Edge of Creation he contemplates his journey to becoming who he is, what values he held and at what cost. His monologue about the cycle of hatred is particularly memorable.

Not only does the scene emphasize his caution when it comes to violence that he ostensibly came to develop after being part of Glenn's team, but also his lack of enthusiasm for it. Notably, he offers the enemy soldiers to stand down, not resorting to combat from the get-go. The monologue further conveys the desire to end the cycle of hatred.

So maybe asking Cloud to lend him strength wasn't a ploy or a trick after all, if EoC!Sephiroth is a being entirely distinct from Jenovaroth, one that remembers that once upon a time he strove to end the cycle of hatred and vengeance.

👋 @pen-and-umbra

[esamastation]

Part forty-five of Shizuroth, aka, the SOLDIER General's Self Saving Shizun.

Ao3 link.

Previous parts: thirty, thirty-one, thirty-two, thirty-three, thirty-four, thirty-five, thirty-six, thirty-seven, thirty-eight, thirty-nine, forty, forty-one, forty-two, forty-three, forty-four

-

"All these treatments, all these new experiments - and you leave me out? All that awaits me is a sombre morrow… is it?" 

Genesis' words are light and flippant, but his eyes are hard as he stares at the scientist before him. It's not the first time he's made the observation.

Doctor Hollander looks away, uncaring, leafing through his files. "Professor Hojo's recent project has to do with S type SOLDIERs. You are type G. The treatments he's planning aren't compatible."

"Whyever not?" Genesis asks as though offended, leaning back slightly and crossing one leg over the other. They're alone in the examination room, and Hollander has always been weirdly lenient to him, which he is fully taking advantage of, trying to press for answers. "We get the same Mako treatments, do we not? The same power that lights your lamps and moves your machinery flows through our veins."

"The infusion method is different," Hollander says dismissively.

"Injection is an injection."

"You know it's not that simple," Hollander says, giving him a look. "Human body in its natural state can't easily integrate Mako - it needs a carrier. Type S and Type G differ in the nature of that carrier. It's impossible to mix the methods."

Genesis shrugs at that. "And yet we all come out just about the same." The SOLDIER types are one of the many mysteries of the program. There's twice as many S types as there are G types, and as far as anyone can tell, there's not that much of a difference, when it comes to abilities.

Sephiroth is type S, of course, and it had taken no time at all to figure out that the SOLDIERs that had been hijacked by Hojo's new project were also S types.

"Even if you can't see the differences, rest assured, they exist," Hollander says. "Professor Hojo's methods work for S types only."

"And what of us poor lowly G types, then? S types get this attention, all these new treatments, and we're left in the dust? How tragic," Genesis says exaggeratedly, making a face. "Aren't you the manager of us G types? Don't you care about us?"

Hollander glances at him with an unamused look and lowers the writing pad. "You're better off. What Hojo is doing has already led to five cases of Mako poisoning," he scoffs. "And two casualties. It's never going to work."

Two casualties? Those hadn't been reported. "Such trust in your own Department Head, Doctor?" Genesis asks, swallowing his demands for answers. "Maybe there's something you don't know. After all, professor Hojo is putting in all this effort! What he is trying to achieve must be very important."

"Che," Hollander answers. "You don't have to worry about that."

"Oh, I'm not worried," Genesis says. He's furious and mentally going through the list of all the names of the SOLDIERs that had vanished into the Science floors and trying to figure out who they haven't heard anything from. It could have been cadets, a lot of those had ended up in the labs, but Hollander said casualties… 

"Really?" Hollander asks dubiously. "Then why are you asking?"

"Why, I'm intrigued, Doctor" Genesis says exaggeratedly. "We all want to get stronger, don't we? Professor Hojo is a genius, so surely whatever he has in mind is going to be a great improvement to the program. We're all holding our breaths to see the results."

It hits Hollander right where he feels it - in the ego. "Well, you shouldn't be!" the doctor snaps. "Hojo hasn't any idea what he's doing! He's just trying to copy the work of his betters!"

Genesis leans back as though shocked. "But who could be better than the famous Professor Hojo?" Because it sure as hell isn't Hollander.

Hollander seems to sense the sentiment because he gives Genesis a scoff. "Gast Faremis," he says and looks away, shaking his head. "Not that it matters anymore. Never mind these new treatments, Genesis, they have nothing to do with you. Hojo will do what he always does, and there will be a cleanup after, and that's that."

"So, there were other tests like these?" Genesis asks. "Oh no, I must've missed them."

Hollander laughs at that, bitterly. "Every couple of years Hojo gets an idea, the company pours money into it, and eventually Turks wipe the slate clean. That man hasn't had an original idea since - che," he mutters and waves a dismissive hand at Genesis. "Your scans are clean, you're fine! Get out of here, I have work to do!"

Genesis doesn't move. "And what if Professor Hojo succeeds? Will type S SOLDIERs become stronger than us type Gs? Should we be worried?"

"Only of more incidents like at the training room!" Hollander says. "Do not get into your head any ideas about getting extra Mako either! Your doses are calibrated to your physiology, anything more might lead to setbacks!"

"Professor Hojo doesn't seem to care about those," Genesis comments.

Hollander harrumphs at that. "The only thing Hojo cares about is his own achievements. And I do care about you."

Genesis' leans back from that frankly unappealing statement. "Much obliged, Doctor," he mutters.

"I know you don't think much of it, but I do care," Hollander says, eyeballing him unhappily. "You and Angeal both. Have you heard from him?"

Ugh. Him and Angeal, sure, they're the famous ones - but what about the rest of their men? "He and Sephiroth are just fine in Wutai," Genesis says, standing up from the examination table where he'd been sitting. For all that Hollander is good for answers, the man is still unpleasant, and he's not exactly interested in chitchat with him. "And it doesn't seem they'll be back anytime soon."

Hollander looks unhappy with that. "Angeal is more than Sephiroth's babysitter," he mutters.

Angeal is lucky he isn't in Midgar right now - what's going on in the SOLDIER program would be driving him out of his honourable mind. "Take it up with Lazard," Genesis says and strides out of the examination room.

Though mostly a waste of time, it did confirm that some of the people taken in wouldn't ever be coming out. He knew about the Mako poisonings, the increased doses, the mysterious injections, the guys stuck in the Mako infusion chambers, but not the deaths. He'd suspected, but… now he knows for sure. All that's left is figuring out who. 

Not that it would make a difference.

No one in the Science Department would be doing anything for their sake, not even Hollander. They would just let Hojo run rampant through the program doing whatever he wanted, until… until what, until he got results? No one even knows what the man is trying to accomplish, aside from creation of a second Sephiroth! And how many SOLDIERs would he poison along the way?

Genesis takes a long, slow breath. 

Asking questions isn't getting him anywhere. He needs to get someone into the labs and see what the hell is actually going on in there. Though he's questioned everyone who's gone in and most everyone is on his side, it's not enough. The Scientists of Shinra Science Department are too careful around SOLDIER members.

What he needs is someone they might not be as careful with. Someone who is less dangerous and more expendable.

What he needs is a cadet.

-

I wonder who... 🤔

[redrawthecolorlessworld]

Compiled Shit #2

ever since i was introduced to tupperbox i have never been the same ever since (very obvious by now)

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ah

[girlsndboys]

nanami x f!bakery worker

🐈‍⬛ haii:3 this is my first tumblr fic, but i’ve written plenty before !! hope u enjoy 💗

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ cw smmmuuut, age gap (nanami is in his mid 30s, reader is in their mid 20s), oral sex, dirty talk..? to an extent, creampie :3 ++reader is afab

+*:ꔫ:*﹤

when nanami first came into the bakery you worked in, he’d expected himself to order a fresh pastry, as per usual. instead, he found himself stumbling over his words at the sight of you.

you found it cute, especially when he had given up on ordering and asked if you had any recommendations.

looking down at the display case separating you both, you tried to match a dessert - to his face. “well .. if you’re interested in trying something sweet, i could offer you one of our madeleines?” you smile, one hand resting on the other as the two of you maintained eye contact— or tried to, at least.

nanami nodded, “could you add a coffee to that, please?”

with that, nanami would consistently show up at the bakery, ordering the same thing. you’d mentioned it to your friend before, who suggested that he might be a stalker, that he wanted to study your every move. funny, a man whose suit more than likely costs more money than your rent would rather spend his time watching you. though it sounded unrealistic, it made you feel - excited. however, you remained professional, even when he complimented your hair .. which you had styled the same almost every day he’d come in. even when he’d stay until you closed the bakery, asking how your day went- or, asking you if you had been feeling well. it was sweet.

lost in your thoughts, you hadn’t noticed the man who walked into the bakery. “oh, i’m.. so sorry, sir. what can i get for you?” you rolled up your sleeves, waiting as the man examined the menu above the counter.

“i’m ordering for nanami, nanami kento. lazy sack of ass said he couldn’t make it himself.” he spoke, eyebrows furrowing as he read a text from his phone. “he wants a madeleine, whatever the hell that is.”

“and a coffee, hm?” you put your attention on fixing up his order, not paying attention to the pink-haired male typing away on his phone. once you were done, you turned around only to find out that he had vanished. “oh, very funny..” you peer over at the clock, taking your apron off since you only had a few minutes left until your shift ended. you grab nanami’s order, debating between taking it home and enjoying it yourself or, attempting to find the guy who ordered it. “i should’ve figured it was a joke .. no one orders coffee at..” you glance down at your phone, “at 5 pm!”

“sukuna’s a pain in the ass, i’m so.. sorry.”

you turned to look at the person the voice came from, a small smile creeping on your lips. there he was, tie unloosened for whatever reason, glasses resting at the top of his head — he was a perfect sight for sore eyes. “nanami..! i thought you weren’t going to make it, is everything alright?” you hold out his order, watching as he takes it from you. “you know- i’m not super pleased about your friend coming in today.”

nanami looks at you with a smile, not saying anything- just watching you talk. if any other man had done it, you might’ve called them a weirdo. but when nanami does it, it makes your heart feel warm.

“i can’t talk to you if you aren’t going to say anything back to me— can i get a thank you for not trashing your order, at least?” you folded your arms, wanting to appear more frigid. “a thank you .. or i don’t know, something you’d want to give me?” you didn’t realize how wrong that sounded- it came out of your mouth so well, saying it didn’t feel wrong.

“you’re right.. thank you.” you watched as he rubbed the back of his neck. “maybe i could do both? there’s something i’d like to give you, if you’re up for it.”

you stared at him, wondering what he meant. surely he wasn’t expecting you to follow him to his office to work on spreadsheets... right?

maybe,

just maybeeee,

he had something else in mind?

nsfw-(:3)

nanami rested his hand against your cheek, his eyes not leaving yours. “i won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to. if it’s ever too much, tell me and i’ll stop, okay?” you shook your head at his words. you had an objective, an aspiration- you needed to make this man cum.

using your hands, you took his cock out of his boxers. you stared at his length for a moment, taking it all in. he was huge, and his tip was the perfect shade, precum causing it to glisten. you felt like an artist viewing their newest paintbrush with your face being the canvas.

you started to stroke him slowly, placing your lips at his tip as some of his precum brushed against them. you heard a groan, clearly, you were doing something right. slipping some of his cock into your mouth, you removed your hands and began to move your head until you reached his base. you felt your eyes begin to burn, and soon enough a few tears would stream out of your eyes and down to your cheeks. stupidly, you dismissed it instead of coming up for air.

you continued to suck him off, mewling at the feeling of his tip hitting the back of your throat each time you sunk your head back down. the sound of his moans, and those heavenly guttural groans he made motivated you to go on. "fuck .. mm.. keep going, you're doing perfect, s’ fucking good." he moaned, tempted to place his hands on the back of your head but instead, he continued to watch you handle it yourself. you looked up at him, shyly looking back down right after you made eye contact with him.

"look at me." he spoke through a grunt, "you have nothing to be shy about, gorgeous. keep going and i'll make your face even prettier, yeah?" his muscles tensed a bit, feeling himself get closer and closer the more you sucked him off. you finally caved in and looked at him. that was enough for nanami, the sight of your innocent eyes made it easier for him to release. swiftly pulling his cock of your mouth, he jerked off a few times until you felt his warmth cover your face.

using your finger, you scooped up some of his cum and put it into your mouth. you figured that you had more of his cum on your face but that wasn’t important to you as of now.

nanami easily lifted you onto his lap, lips pressing against yours as he worked on removing your jeans. he trailed his kisses down your neck, leaving hickeys and love bites all over.

you started to move your hips against him, starting to feel impatient. it was embarrassing- but you needed him, you wanted him. “patient, aren’t we?” he hummed against your neck, effortlessly pushing your panties to the side before slipping in one of his fingers.

you winced, clasping onto his shoulder. you moaned into his ear as he added in another finger, thrusting them into you at a painfully slow pace. “nanami ..” you whispered, moving your hips.

he bit down on his lower lip, watching you attempt to satisfy yourself on his fingers. “there we go.. ride my fingers, baby. g’na make yourself cum on them, yeah?” he positioned his free hand on your waist, watching you become a mess on his fingers. “cute..” he then decided to use his thumb, applying pressure onto your clit.

that alone nearly did it for you, you continued to move your hips against his fingers until he slid them out of you. “n..nanami.” you stuttered.

nanami swapped the position you two were in, placing you on his desk with your legs spread enough, knees resting up towards your head. “i’m sorry, love .. just wanted to see you cum on my dick, not my fingers.” he leaned down, pressing his lips against yours once more, this time as a distraction. he grabbed his dick, resting his tip in between your folds. taking advantage of how wet you were, nanami found himself slowly sinking into you.

your mouth fell open, faint curse words escaping your lips as he moved his hips. you loved how he felt inside of you. the way his cock dragged within your walls, the protrusion of his veins, how well his thick cock felt stretching you out. you watched as he gently grabbed onto your right leg, placing it against his shoulder.

he pressed down onto your stomach, giving slow- but deep thrusts. you looked down, noticing a print forming in your stomach each time he completed one of his thrusts. you slid your hand down to your clit, feeling that familiar knot in your stomach. “nanami..” you let out a shaky moan, watching his free hand grab onto yours, intertwining them.

he leaned down, gently resting his forehead against yours whilst your moans mixed in perfectly with the sounds of his groans. with a few more thrusts, you were coming undone on his cock. nanami watched as you made a mess on his cock with a smile, slowing his thrusts down once his dick began to twitch. “can i cum in you.. please?”

you nodded your head, you were on an iv anyway. “yes- fuck, please cum in me.”

that’s all nanami needed to hear before stuffing you full of his cum, holding still to make sure that nothing slipped out. once he finished, he pulled out of you- watching some of his cum drip out of you.

you slowly sat up, staring at him with a flustered expression, waiting for someone to say something.

“i’d like to do this again, if you don’t mind.” he gave you a smile, reaching for your clothes before his own. “oh, and of course i’d like to take you out to one of my favorite restaurants sometime, too.”

you rolled your eyes, playfully smacking his arm. “i’d like that too, kento.”

+*:ꔫ:*﹤

excuse any errors if there are any, it is currently 1am 🤗🤗

[lowlylux]

Run With The Devil (And Dream)

1.1 | djdlqdjdlqdjdlqgrlwdjdlq

Word Count: 3k

Status: Ongoing

Ship: BillFord

Rating: M (graphic depictions of violence)

Description:

In the endless loops of time, Bill Cipher finds himself trapped in a cycle of death and destruction, orchestrated by the Axolotl, an enigmatic cosmic being who delights in his chaos. Each loop sees Bill wreak havoc on Earth, only to be reset when his plans inevitably fail. Despite his malevolent nature, Bill begins to sense the futility of his actions and the unchanging nature of his existence.

As the cycles progress, small changes occur—subtle shifts in events and new interactions with key characters that challenge Bill's perception of himself and his purpose. One particular loop introduces a significant change: Bill regains his empathy and ability to fall for another.

Based on the restoration AU by Nev_284

Ao3 link

The stars shimmer and sing, their celestial voices echoing across the vast expanses of countless universes. These distant orbs of light, bound by premonitions far beyond the grasp of mortal understanding, observe all with an eternal gaze. They witness the genesis and culmination of countless narratives, peering into dimensions unknown, silently bearing witness to the myriad forms of existence as they wane or clash.

To a star, death is an intriguing enigma. It is a certainty, an inescapable truth. Yet, given their enduring lifespans, entire species can vanish before their own light dims. Thus, the cycles of rise and fall among different beings seem particularly enchanting to them.

The stars, being passive observers, do not intervene. They watch with focused interest, drawn to the most captivating lives. Some existences are tragically brief, their lifespan far too fleeting for a star’s taste. In response, the stars revisit these moments repeatedly, delving into every tiny detail with unending curiosity. They seek new lives, hoping to find entertainment that rivals their previous fascinations.

Occasionally, they discover a being that seems perfect, embodying all that they yearn for. Their radiance intensifies with delight as they watch over this newfound source of intrigue. However, as with all things, the light of even the most compelling subjects eventually fade, either through the being’s own choices or external forces.

Being a star can be a solitary existence, yet it holds profound fulfillment when they encounter another who shares their quest for entertainment. A star’s role is to observe indefinitely, to theorize, but never to intervene. For any action would irrevocably alter their status.

There is a significant distinction between those who merely observe and those who actively shape events. While stars continue their silent vigil as their chosen entertainments perish, those who influence events face different fates. They may become stars themselves or gain the power to effect even greater changes.

Stars are significant, and those that fall are particularly notable. How can one craft entertainment without experiencing the thrill of watching other examples unfold? Thus, falling stars, whether fleeting or enduring, hold the potential to impact the very fabric of the worlds they long to create.

Their twinkling intensifies as their chosen entertainment returns, hoping it will persist for a while longer. Yet, uncertainty looms. Their universe—and their very existence—might be obliterated, leaving them to witness their own inevitable end. Stars remain solitary, awaiting the birth of new worlds, even as they brace for the inevitable destruction that will come.

Because once it’s gone, it’s gone…

Isn’t it?

-. . -..- -

Ever knowing, the Axolotl remains patient until the trial completes, the vents unfolding at a rapid rate. It sees everything, from the faintest tremor of atoms to the profound sorrow of the tiniest creatures. It senses the devastation sure to follow anything that lives for too long, as life itself has an expiration date. It hears the many followers it has accrued since its creation.

Yet, the Axolotl waits, fully aware of what is to come.

A creature appears before it, its yellow hue clashing with the Axolotl’s pink. This entity, composed of three interlocking facets, is a demon in fragmented form. Blocks build upon themselves, the form slowly repairing itself as much as it can. Yet the blue fissure prevents that from becoming a possibility. It threatens to completely tear him apart. The gash glows, casting a brilliant light into the Axolotl's gaze.

The Axolotl had been awaiting yet another confrontation with the demon. The terms of their arrangement were straightforward: the demon must prove that he can make a change. The Axolotl ensured that the demon’s memories were kept safe until he would inevitably return back. The sheer amount of defeats this singular demon has endured is simply beyond comprehension.

What usually resulted in the demon threatening the Axolotl was instead replaced with simple silence. The demon floats there, his singular eye vacant and void as he stares at nothing. The Axolotl finds this unsettling.

“I wonder,” the Axolotl muses, staring down at its friend, “have you shifted your perspective? Your melancholy speaks volumes.”

The stars above twinkle with more intensity the more distressed the demon looks, as if personally gaining amusement from his pain. They observe the scene silently, refusing to budge as they stay forever detached from the world that they observe.

The demon remains mute at first, still lost in contemplation. But he eventually looks up, staring at the Axolotl in complete and utter defeat. “Why?”

The demon’s singular, enormous eye fixates on the Axolotl. Overall, he looks rather panicked, the one with an all seeing eye having quite the dilated pupils, making the already black irises even larger than usual. The demon is bewildered, lost on exactly what he is continuously seeing.

“Hmm?”

“Why do they always help the others? I don’t…I don’t get it.”

The Axolotl nods knowingly, not quite expecting such a question but welcoming it nonetheless. If this inquiry is a step forward toward the demon’s salvation, he deserves to have answers to his questions without ridicule. The Axolotl is not so cruel to deny him, at least in this moment.

“Humans are capricious beings, driven by the innate kindness of their hearts. Why do you wonder? Bill, do you finally understand your mistake?”

“No.”

The Axolotl pauses, staring at the triangular demon with a measure of confusion. Given his preoccupation with the Pines family’s unity and their mutual support, why does he fail to recognize the truth before him? For a being with practically infinite knowledge, the naivety is shocking, even to the Axolotl.

“They will always aid those they cherish, even amid conflict. Expecting a different outcome after all this means you are only avoiding reality. Do my lessons hold no value to you? How many trials must you go through? This was meant to help, yet your previous convictions persist. Have my lessons truly been an unfounded attempt to assist you?”

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to make different choices if I don’t have my memories!” The demon snaps out, immediately averting his eyes away from the Axolotl. “I don’t know if I would make the right choices even if I had them.”

He descends slightly, his floating form lowering a few feet. He cannot go far, the large gash preventing him from leaving the domain of the Axolotl. For it keeps him alive as long as he remains here. That is the deal, one forged in blood and flames. And if one were to go against their end, either side, devastation is sure to follow. Ruin would be inevitable.

Although, the Axolotl doubts anything like that will happen, especially not at the rate the demon seems to improve. It will be at least a thousand more incarnations before he even thinks about betraying the Axolotl, that much it is sure of.

“There is one way to find out. Your chances are not exhausted just yet. We can always attempt this again.”

“Do I have a choice?” the demon inquires with a hint of irony. He chuckles to himself at what he believes is a wonderful joke about the situation. The Axolotl remains silent, simply deciding to not encourage the demon with unneeded humor.

“No.”

“Amazing,” the demon responds bitterly. He crosses his arms, still in the midst of attempting to figure out the humans as best he can. The idea of them and their actions being far too complex then he wishes to admit to himself. However, it is not like it matters. He will not remember this conversation, therefore any of his ideas are lost until he no longer needs them. “Can I…stay for a few minutes? I want to think.”

The Axolotl ponders his request for a moment. It is a rare moment for the demon to actually think about his actions, at least reflecting thoughtfully. There has been an insurmountable amount of times where the demon has physically attempted to harm the Axolotl after all. This moment of introspection is unusual for the celestial being.

The Axolotl nods, granting the demon his request. It is a minor concession, not at all difficult to do, especially if the demon continues to be composed. So they sit there, the stars twinkling as they silently observe the two beings float in the infinite void silently.

Bill feels as though they are laughing at him and his misfortune.

-. . -..- -

Stanford Pines stumbles through the forest of Gravity falls with the ungainly grave of a sea creature stranded on land. Clutching his journal tightly, he scrawls hastily, desperately attempting to scribble all that he can into the pages. He is desperate to document every small detail, an indication of a mind that works far too well for its own good. Though his search for the Hide Behind had grown cold, Ford is not one to easily surrender.

He tracks the fleeting shadows, keeping a close eye on what is just beyond his eyesight. There are a few quick close calls, ones that cause him to swivel in the direction of his elusive target. But it does not work, his efforts are in vain. This creature, this unknown monstrosity, is beyond Ford’s reach and he knows that.

Driven by his ego, Ford presses on. He ignores how the terrain becomes far more dangerous. The path twists and turns, pulling him in every direction to throw him off. By the time he realizes that the Hide Behind has vanished, it is far too late to turn back now. This is an adventure, one he refuses to let go of just because he has lost his way. The adventure has become an obsession, and Ford’s egoistical brain will ensure he sees it until the end.

Seemingly hours go by until he is face to face with the entrance of a cave. Embracing the unknown, with resolute curiosity, Ford trudges forward, ready to jot down anything of interest. It takes a while, stalagmites obstruct his way. Ford is sure he will have strange cuts and scrapes from the rocking, yet he does not bleed. A stroke of fortune indeed.

But as he goes further into the abyss that is the cave, he notices the engravings. Though the language is unfamiliar, he is determined to learn or eventually. No, he knows he will learn it one day. He hopes he can return in the future, to decipher the ancient writings and learn the secrets of the cave.

He finds a circular carving adorned with eleven symbols. Ten smaller symbol as form a border around a central, prominent triangle—a large eye that seems to follow his every movement if he thinks about it hard enough.

Ford places a hand on the wall, his six fingers tracing over the ancient inscriptions surrounding the strange symbol.

“Triangulum, entangulum,” he murmurs, reading out the words etched in stone. He knows he shouldn’t, he knows he should turn around and get out. But he could learn so much from this if it is a summoning circle, exactly what he hopes it is.

“Meteforis dominus ventium.” Based on the carvings he can bring so much information and insight. The triangle floats above all, the symbols seemingly showing him as an equivalent of a divine presence.

“Meteforis venetisarium!”

The circle begins to glow.

“Egassem sdrawkcab!”

It’s like he feels insurmountable power, the rush of power enveloping him like a blanket.

“Egassem sdrawkcab!”

The air around him crackles with energy and prickles his skin, causing goosebumps to appear. The hair on his arms to raise, as if equally anticipating the end like he is.

“Egassem sdrawkcab!”

Everything in his entire being is telling him to stop, telling him that this is a bad idea. His logical brain warns him of imminent danger if he continues. But, his thirst for knowledge outweighs the fear, and truly is his one failing.

Perhaps not the only one.

“Egassem sdrawkcab!”

He’s nearly finished. Honestly, he’s shocked he is able to pronounce such ancient and arcane phrases. It is almost as if it is fate.

“Egassem sdrawkcab!”

Shrill laughing erupts from nowhere, the cave echoing the noises to the point of pain. Ford grips onto his ears, the pain from the laughs seemingly moving around in his head and refusing to leave. The laughing becomes him, wrapping around his very being and refusing to let go. He winces, falling to the ground, unintentionally kneeling directly in front of the engraving that caused all of this.

And then it stops as quickly as it started. Ford stares at the wall in confusion, completely dazed, uncertain if anything will happen. The cave remains silent. Ford is left with his thoughts, wondering if he was indeed an idiot.

And truthfully, he was.

-. . -..- -

Bill eagerly peers at his windows into Earth, now that the shaman’s spell is finally lifting. It has been far too long since he has last graced the minds of humans. He had anticipated a fool—after all, who else reads words on a cave’s wall? Yet what he finds is someone intelligent, at least by human standards.

Yet he is as much of an idiot as the humans who summoned him previously. An inflated ego overtaking everything, clouding his judgment, allowing the man to not think clearly. While Bill can appreciate a thirst for knowledge, this is utterly hilarious.

He has found the perfect human for him and his plans.

Clever enough to avoid portal radiation, but naïve enough not to betray him. From what Bill can see, the human even thinks that he was meant to read those words, as if he were special.

The notion of being ‘special’ amuses Bill greatly.

Indeed, he is special. He will be the one who causes the Armageddon. He will be the cause of the destruction of his world, as he will be the one who brought it. He will bring Bill and his Henchmaniacs to Earth, paving the way. And if Bill must pretend as if he were destined to do this, he will.

Destiny…it is just a humorous term for foolishness. The future is never set in stone, forever shifting and moving. Even Bill, who is able to many possibilities, is unable to truly see everything that will befall him. The all seeing eye is only as effective as the beholder, Bill being the best wielder.

And if he were to entertain the idea, he can easily be worshiped like the god he should be. Although he is an all powerful demon that is feared by many, he wants to rule his own world that is not collapsing in on itself. Yes, the stability of a new world is key. The Nightmare Realm is great, his child, his creation in its own right. But it’s flawed and failing. He needs a new alternative before he is consumed by the chaotic world of his own design.

And the idea of being a god, even to one, is tempting. Especially with how the human seeming perfected suited to be kneeling at his feet. If all goes well, perhaps Bill will keep him around. A six-fingered human is an oddity, even if the extra digits are nothing to Bill. He has always wanted a pet. If a human worships him enough, it could be a dream.

Stanford Pines…he is truly in for a world of chaos.

“You didn’t visit him?” Pyronica asks, gazing at the window with confusion. Bill looks at her, observing how the fire she wields threatens to burn him if he were not careful. But he is far too observant to let such a small issue affect him.

“It is better to wait.”

“But Bill-“

“Are you doubting me, Pyronica?” Bill questions, his form expanding to attempt to cease her ridiculous ramblings. He doesn’t like people doubting him, much less when it is a mere henchman. “I said we will wait.”

Pyronica averts her gaze, nodding in response. “Of course Bill, you know best.”

“Glad we came to an agreement,” Bill says with a laugh, his form glowing when he does so. “I sure do hate it when people act as if I don’t know what I’m doing.” Bill says, getting back to his normal size before staring her down. “Don’t you agree?”

“Bill I didn’t mean-“

“I suggest you get out of my sight,” Bill says callously, refusing to look at her. The demon nods, even if he cannot see her, before scurrying off to do who knows what. Bill does not care, nor will he ever. He stares at the window into Earth, his excitement growing.

Yes…waiting is the best way to go about this.

-. . -..- -

The Axolotl stares at the scene in growing disappointment. It had hoped that with Bill’s recent personality change after the last loop would carry over into this one, yet he continues down the same broken path. Death and destruction await him, that much is sure. If it continues, so will the loop.

The Axolotl wonders if it is time to put an end to such a farce. If Bill is truly incapable of change, what is the point of him using the Axolotl’s power for his own gain? It makes no sense. It just seems meaningless in the end.

Yet the Axolotl hesitates to bring it to a close.

It hates to admit it, but cheering for the demon’s growth has become a source of entertainment. It truly would not know what to do with itself if the loop would end. Would the Axolotl find another being to somewhat toy with? Perhaps one easier to manipulate?

It truly does not know.

The Axolotl can only hope that Bill will learn eventually. There are a few small changes to this cycle so perhaps this will be one of the most interesting. Perhaps it will launch a change in the demon.

But the Axolotl is getting ahead of itself, needing to wait for the two key players to interact for the first time once more. The stars overhead twinkle in agreement, waiting to see the story untold for their own sick satisfaction.

>> 02

Masterlist

[apod]

2024 February 18

Hoag's Object: A Nearly Perfect Ring Galaxy Image Credit: NASA, ESA, Hubble; Processing: Benoit Blanco

Explanation: Is this one galaxy or two? This question came to light in 1950 when astronomer Arthur Hoag chanced upon this unusual extragalactic object. On the outside is a ring dominated by bright blue stars, while near the center lies a ball of much redder stars that are likely much older. Between the two is a gap that appears almost completely dark. How Hoag's Object formed, including its nearly perfectly round ring of stars and gas, remains unknown. Genesis hypotheses include a galaxy collision billions of years ago and the gravitational effect of a central bar that has since vanished. The featured photo was taken by the Hubble Space Telescope and reprocessed using an artificially intelligent de-noising algorithm. Observations in radio waves indicate that Hoag's Object has not accreted a smaller galaxy in the past billion years. Hoag's Object spans about 100,000 light years and lies about 600 million light years away toward the constellation of the Snake (Serpens). Many galaxies far in the distance are visible toward the right, while coincidentally, visible in the gap at about seven o'clock, is another but more distant ring galaxy.

∞ Source: apod.nasa.gov/apod/ap240218.html

[dailycharacteroption]

Roleplay Ramblings: New Elements part 1

Intro

In the past not just Pathfinder, but even Dungeons and Dragons, there has been a baseline assumption that the four elements of western elementalism were the “true” elements of creation.

Sure, Pathfinder did have wood, metal, aether, and even void elementalists out there in the world, drawing upon not just the Chinese Wuxing, but also the expanded western elements and even Japanese Godai, respectively. However, these were generally considered not “true” elements since those that drew upon them do not call upon an elemental plane. Metal is just a group of themed spells and doesn’t even have independence from the earth element for kineticists, wood draws upon the First World, Aether draws upon both the ethereal and astral plane, and Void… well, we’re not really sure how that one works at all drawing not just from negative energy, but also concepts of stillness and serenity. All together, they represent unique ways to tap into magic… but they still are only elements in name.

…Or so we thought.

With the advent of Rage of the Elements, it became revealed that the elements of Metal and Wood were indeed real, but had been inaccessible for an unfathomable length of time due to the treachery of the Elemental Lords.

Fans of Pathfinder’s lore will recall that the four “evil” elemental lords of the familiar elements imprisoned their “good” counterparts inside magical gemstone artifacts, The Moaning Diamond, the Garnet Brand, the Untouchable Opal, and the Gasping Pearl. All in a bid of an alliance of power between the four as they ruled the planes.

However, doing so had an unusual side effect in that this imbalance of power actually literally unbalanced the planes on a cosmic scale, shunting both the planes of Metal and Wood out of alignment with the rest of the multiverse, seeming to vanish entirely as the borders of the planes they once rested between closed in with their new neighbors.

However, after the goodly elemental lords were freed one after the other, thanks in no small part by planeshopping members of the Pathfinder Society, the balanced was restored and the two planes have begun creeping back in, freed from their isolation as their residents and wonders marvel and are marveled in kind by the cosmos they have rejoined.

These two planes have elemental lords, genies, and elementals of their own, a whole ecology that parallels the other planes but also prove unique in their own right. Presumably, the two more destructive or antisocial of the elemental lords of metal and wood were not included in the original conspiracy due to their comparative lack of malevolence or thirst for power compared to their contemporaries, though that isn’t to say they don’t have their quirks.

To describe them briefly, (in preparation for further entries this week) the Plane of Metal is a place of change and creation, of forged form and function, of art and science, of creation, but also destruction, for while many wondrous things can be created from the harnessed metals and materials, they are also associated with destruction, not just for metal’s association with weapons, but also the fact that nothing that is created can last forever, and all metal succumbs to rust and corrosion eventually.

Meanwhile, the Plane of Wood is a place of cultivated order, for while it is a place of constant genesis and life, rarely if ever does it grow without some for of guidance, either directly from sapient beings or simply by the nature of the plane itself. It is a place of fractals, plants growing on plants growing on plants all the way down and all the way up to perceptual infinity. But it is also a garden where wonders are cultivated, harvested, and crafted, with many elemental beings being literally carved into shape from the living essence of the plane. Very different indeed is this plane when compared to the wild verdant nature of the First World.

These planes were introduced in Second Edition, and everything about them rules-wise has been written with that assumption… But maybe you prefer First Edition, and want to see how the return of these planes can be realized in that system? Well, that’s what we’re going to look at this week! Some things won’t need much work, but others will require a bit more, but we’ll explore it all the same. I hope you’re looking forward to it!