#vivid vice my beloved

[quehecke]

vivid vice is the best jjk intro song idgaf anymore ill speak my truth

[vixennz]

Anomaly of Heaven. Overblot mc

Synopsis: You finally have enough of Crowley's bullshit

Character/s: Ace, Deuce, Grim, Crowley, Housewardens, Vice, First years [only malleus, riddle, azul, and leona are actually mentioned but only little]

Content Warnings: Bottled up emotions, rage, screaming, cussing, trauma, abit ooc characters, mentions of body disfiguration [although not too vivid], overblot, afab mc, fem pronouns (she/her)

Genre: Pure angst, no comfort

Word count: 1k+

Song: Skyfall — Adele

It was tiring.

It drained you.

Helping everyone, cleaning up everyone and Crowley's mess, and then... getting nothing in return. It was always you to blame. It wasn’t your fault you were brought here so why are you always to blame? Why is it always you who is unlucky?

You sighed staring up at the night sky, tired and angry. The built up rage was lighting something sinister within you; but you had hope, one little spec of hope, that Crowley finally managed to find some way to bring you back; sure, you have friends here but what about your friends back home? Your family? You wanted some sort of normality just for once.

Surely you were brought here because you’re special, right? You must have some kind of role other than being just- there

You stared ahead, out of the window of ramshackle, grim was long asleep, but you simply just couldn’t bring yourself to, no, not with all these feelings and thoughts mixing in; but slowly the exhaustion finally kicked in and you found yourself succumbing to slumber.

Drip drip

The next day you felt off, something just did not feel right, and it wasn’t because of someone... No, it was because of you or rather something within you.

Every little thing was irritating you, your senses felt overstimulated, so you left, not bothering to explain to the trio where you were going, you just wanted to be alone.

The walk to the garden was quiet and peaceful... finally some alone time, you thought.

“Ah prefect! There you are, could you get these....” of course there had to be disturbances, it just wasn’t your day today.

“sure, and uh, sir? Have you found a way back home?”

“ah! Home.. Haha of course! But lately I have been very busy for some things to help the school!”

“right.” you replied, “now if I shall I've got other matters to attend to” crowley said hastily leaving

After finishing what he asked for, you finally had time to spare for yourself, but you were wrong. Walking to crowley’s office you wondered what the hell those three idiots have caused again, in fact, what have they not caused?

Drip

You swung the door open and entered the headmages’ office “prefect! Perfect timing!”

“what happened now?”

“Well, these three have broken something, and as the prefect of ramshackle it is your utmost responsibility to take care of them, and you failed to do so... again.” crowley sighed

this was incredulous! You were busy and did not know what was happening, so why are you to blame once again. “what!? It wasn’t even my fault sir- I was doing what you asked me to-”

Drip drip

“ah ah, but you were assigned to keep them out of trouble as well!” he replied in that sickenly voice of his, feigning innocence and what not

“I-” you were about to protest when another voice piped in “hey! We did it so punish us instead, just leave my henchman alone!” grim said running by your side, sure he may be a little menace at times but he is your friend, and he just couldn’t stand there while his beloved human was getting blamed for something she didn’t even do.

Deuce and ace nodded as well agreeing, “yeah! They weren’t even there it’s all on us three, sir”

He couldn’t just take all the blame on you! You did nothing wrong.

“Listen crowley, I did absolutely fucking nothing! I wasn’t there how was I supposed to know?!” you screamed, finally having enough of all the shit he’s put you up for, hell even grim stood by you.

Crowley, ace, and deuce were stunned, they didn’t expect their quiet and kind prefect to just scream out of nowhere!

“Prefect! What is this kind of behav-”

“Shut up! All you have ever done for me is treat me like some sort of fucking servant! Have you even worked on finding a way back to my home?!” you screamed, it seemed that all your bottled up emotions have finally decided to spill

“Well- yes I am working on it-” crowley replied, but you knew better than to believe what he said

“Oh really? Do you even work at all? Cause it seems to me like you have been lazing around being fucking incompetent! Overblots happen every single month, and who must clean it up? ME! All your work? IT'S ON ME!”

Drip...

“We wouldn’t have had any overblots if only you actually cared!”

Drip drip..

“It's because of your negligence, lack of involvement and greedy ideals that’s what’s getting us wrapped up into a mess!”

Drip..

“have you even considered what I've felt? I act like it doesn’t bother me, but I deeply miss my home!”

Drip drip...

“You talk as if you’re some kind, responsible person BUT. YOU. ARE. NOT!”

….

The room was silent as everyone tried to get themselves over the shock and horrid, grim was seething beside you, he didn’t like the fact crowley kept on stressing you out.

You were tired of his selfishness, his lack of care, for the betterment. A gnawing darkness came from within, slowly little droplets fell from your eyes, great you were crying now, you thought as you reached up to smudge it away..

Again and again, but it seemed to just keep coming, you couldn’t understand why.

Horrified gasps were heard in front of you; deuce stared wide eyed, and ace felt guilt. “[n-name]”

“henchman..! this is all your fault you damned mage!” grim yelled at crowley, he looked genuinely worried; how could he? How could he cause [name] such pain that she’s slowly finally, succumb to the darkness?

You finally understood what was happening, looking down at your hands, it wasn't tears, it was ink.

The magicless student was actually... overblotting.

It’s suffocating, the gnawing darkness from earlier has now fully enveloped you. Staggering back, you were shaking, it hurts... it hurts! you said not even realizing you were screaming in agony. Unknown to you grim was starting to overblot as well, he just couldn’t keep it in anymore...

“So painful... MAKE IT STOP! PLEASE-” you sobbed in anguish, it felt like you were too small for your own skin...

Riiiip

Three pairs of inked wings came out from the rip on your back, the other three were downright horrified.

“you two.. Get the dorm leaders.” crowley said “what!? What abou-”

“GO!” ace and deuce had no other choice but to do so.

The word slowly started to blur out as you succumb to the outcome of your pure unfiltered rage. Your appearance drastically changed, your hair was longer ending in white, defying gravity itself as it slowly floated, your eyes became slitted as another pair opened just below it, and finally a halo of thorns formed just right above your head, as if it was some sort of mock to you.

You were good, you followed everything that was said, and now here your reward is, to be in the form of one of the most kind and known celestial beings, an angel; but was it really a reward when you are simply a mock version of it? A version made from hate; Your hate, despair, and suffering.

You embraced this new form with open arms, it was you, after all. Grim was beside you, oh little grim, he didn’t seem so weak now, a tailed beast he has become, fire burning hotter than before. Mounting the huge beast, you both headed for the courtyard, leaving that part of the building in ruins.

“housewarden!” ace and deuce busted in the meeting room, panting as they ran from the whole other side of the building

“Ace? Deuce? You clearly see there is a meeting happening right now. I will not tolerate such beh-” riddle said in disappointment but was cut off by the two first years “now is NOT the time, [name]- she-" deuce panted.

“spit it out you idiots, I've got no time here.” leona spat out, just then a loud screech can be heard, loud enough to shake the room abit, now this caught their attention.

“[name] has overblotted we don’t know how-”

The housewardens all looked at the two in shock, running out and to the courtyards.

Destruction, chaos, and fire was what they reached to. The screams of horror rang throughout the entirety of the school, and the once magicless, helpless prefect was the cause of it all, laughing as they tore the school down and reduced it to nothing but rubbles of ashes.

“what the hell have you become [name]!? Snap out of it!” screamed azul; they were terrified, this... This was nothing to their overblot, right now, it was pure destruction, they aimed to obliterate this place.

Where you go, I go

Ace and deuce and the other first years have finally arrived at the scene

What you see, I see

They stared in disbelief at what their beloved friends had become “[NAME]! PLEASE! COME BACK TO US!”

I know I'd never be me

“[name!]”, “Prefect!”, “Come on [name]!”, “PLEASE!”

Without the security of your loving arms, keeping me from harm

They shot magic at you, but grim shielded you away from them, screeching at them to get away

Put your hand in my hand and we'll stand

Your wings finally spread to their full lengths for the first time; covering the courtyard in its’ shadow as you take flight to the heavens above. You were different, your blot just wasn’t caused by magic, no... It was created from within you, it was made from your pure ravenous rage.

“Youve all caused me to BE like THIS! You don’t know what it’s like... NEVER.”

Let the sky fall

They look up in shock as the once dark skies have parted to let the sun’s glow shine down onto you, if it weren’t the current circumstances, you would have looked ethreal.

-let the sky fall-

“No..” Malleus mumbled, he didn’t want to lose you, no, not this early...

When it crumbles

“My fury... will never be quelled” you raised your hand as the ground shook, and tore itself into crumbs, slowly floating to the high heavens

-when it crumbles-

They didn’t want to hurt you, but this was too much.

We will stand tall

-we will stand tall-

Face it all together

You were dear to them, but they cannot just let this continue...

Let the sky fall

-let the sky fall-

Spears made of pure onyx blot rained down to the land, and oh how the loose beast heavily destroyed the land

When it crumbles -when it crumbles-

We will stand tall -we will stand tall-

Face it all together...

At sky fall...

Let the sky fall

The sky... it truly felt like it crumbled down onto them

We will stand tall

At sky fall

As the rubble arose to the now blood red sky, a broken shard of mirror flew past you showing your reflection

Ooh...

You stare at it.

A monster stares back.

I hope you guys enjoyed this!

©vixennz please refrain from reposting/stealing

[mariacallous]

On Oct. 29, 1920, the temperature in Detroit reached a high of 60 degrees, and the Detroit Free Press reported that “Northwestern High’s football eleven” was preparing to face Eastern High School the next day for a much anticipated Saturday matchup at the Joyce athletic field. 

Julia Esaw had not yet arrived in Detroit to enjoy the game and the pleasant weather, but the longtime member of People’s Community Church was born on that day — more than 100 years ago.

And this past Tuesday, on Oct. 29, the same Julia Esaw celebrated her 104th birthday in Detroit.

“If you could see my face now, you would see a great big smile,” Esaw announced by phone at 3:27 p.m. on her birthday, a day that was fittingly even warmer in Detroit than the day she was born.

Asking the exuberant centenarian to take a second call by FaceTime so that her beautiful smile could be seen was not an option. That’s because Esaw was in a rush to quickly take in the sun and 76-degree warmth that radiated at that moment near her Detroit home, not far from her beloved People’s Community Church — 8601 Woodward Ave. — before she was to be whisked away to a secret location for a family birthday celebration.

A 104th birthday is a rare occurrence. But Esaw says that from a very early time in her life she came to expect good experiences in Detroit.

“Detroit has had a lot to offer and I have no complaints,” said the 1939 Cass Tech graduate, who came to Detroit with her family when she was 2 years old from Columbia, Mississippi.

During the afternoon of Monday, Oct. 28, with vivid recollection, Esaw reeled off some of the early Detroit streets she lived on, including High Street, Division, Brewster, Hedge, Trowbridge and Taylor. However, it was a discussion about a destination that Esaw visited recently that brought out an excited tone a little more than eight hours before her birthday. That destination is 2978 West Grand Blvd., home to the Detroit Department of Elections, where Esaw dropped off her absentee ballot with a vote cast in the 2024 presidential election for Democratic Vice President Kamala Harris. And Esaw left no doubt that even with all of the history she has seen during her long lifetime, the opportunity to cast her vote for Harris — the first Black woman to head a major party’s presidential ticket — holds a special place in her heart. 

“I’m happy and it makes me feel great!” declared Esaw, who was born just 72 days after the ratification of the 19th Amendment which legally guaranteed women the right to vote.

Then Esaw went on to explain that her happiness this election season is tied to progress she has witnessed during her lifetime.  

“After high school, I wanted to study to be a dietitian. But as a young Black woman, there was no place here that I could go to get the training and my mother didn’t want me to go away,” lamented Esaw, who says she still owes a huge debt of gratitude to two “tough” teachers in Cass Tech’s home economics curriculum that prepared her well for life. “Blacks didn’t have the same kind of power we have today. But if we all get together now, we can put her (Harris) on the top seat.”

Although Esaw was unable to pursue a career in health care, her journey as a beautician actually began in close physical proximity to a prominent Detroit health institution. 

“I started as a beautician at the Streamline Beauty Shop on Forest and it was right across from Women’s Hospital (now Hutzel Women’s Hospital),” said Esaw, who was married to the late Tuskegee Airman Burkes Esaw Sr. “Because we were so close to the hospital, I had more white trade (clientele) than Black. It was the same thing for many years when I was running my own shop.” 

In the roles Esaw carried out as a beautician, block club president, wife and mother of four children who were taught at home to value education and healthy eating, she says race was not a barrier to success. But Esaw’s recollection of a revered Detroit landmark — the old downtown J. L. Hudson Department Store — may be a bit different from what is recorded in many history books. Esaw explained that there was a time when the shopping experience for Black customers at J.L. Hudson, which grew to be the tallest department store in the world during its heyday, was mostly relegated to the basement level due to a Northern version of Jim Crow.

Esaw’s earliest memories of Hudson’s were shared without a hint of bitterness in her voice and with a tiny chuckle thrown in because, as Esaw went on to explain, she has never accepted a “basement” view of life due to her faith. And because of her faith, Esaw says the fact that a Black woman (Harris also is of Southeast Asian descent on her mother's side) has a very legitimate chance to become the nation’s first woman president is not really a big surprise to her. 

“I was always taught that we (Black people) were God’s children too,” said Esaw, who noted that she starts each morning with a bowl of assorted raw fruit that she prepares for herself. “God made us and we’re somebody, too. And we can do anything that anyone else can, including being president.” 

And in an equally succinct manner, Esaw laid out what she would expect from Harris as president. 

“I want to see her reach out and touch everybody, because we’re all God’s children,” Esaw stated. “And then I would like to see us all work together as a team.” 

Next to Esaw as she spoke from home on consecutive afternoons beginning Oct. 28 was her only daughter and constant companion, 72-year-old Berneta Esaw, a retired Detroit Public Schools math teacher. Berneta Esaw was with her mother when she dropped off her election ballot, and she also was by her mom’s side on Oct. 12 at the Detroit Golf Club when Berneta Esaw’s 1969 Cass Tech graduating class held its 55th reunion, which Julia Esaw used as an opportunity to celebrate the 85th anniversary of her own graduation from Cass.

Berneta Esaw says she is holding out hope that there are other living people that will come forward who graduated from Cass Tech in or around 1939 to allow her mother to enjoy a reunion experience to the fullest. But in the meantime, Berneta Esaw is more than happy to share lessons for living a long, fulfilling life — which she has received with love directly from her mother. 

“Mother doesn’t look anywhere close to 90 — most people start at 70 when she asks them how old they think she is. But she has worked hard to look like that,” said Berneta Esaw, who has grown accustomed and accepting to people that want to hug and touch her mom when they become aware of Julia Esaw’s age. “Living with mother, you knew you were going to get your fruit in the morning, and salad with lunch and dinner, because mother knows that when you eat fresh, raw fruits and vegetables the body works better. 

“Mother is a blessing, and I feel blessed that I was born to two parents who were extremely knowledgeable and intelligent, and they gladly passed down their knowledge to my siblings and me, and others in our community.”  

[foxclcves]

𝒔𝒍𝒖𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓 (𝒏𝒐𝒄𝒕𝒖𝒂𝒓𝒚 𝒇𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕 02)

Oh glorious one—oh offspring of gold and of the sun, oh eldest of my daughters and her sisters. With her fists full of daisies and thorns and her blouses of lace and chiffon. Beloved one with long, elegant hands and a smile inspired by the sharpest of blades. The one who sleeps but never dreams and who would never dare ignore me or cower from my touch, but who does not know I exist. A child who covets her mother and envies those who can see her often, let alone at all. 

How she walks on her toes across warm wooden floorboards and captures the light that glares from windows and prisms, kaleidoscopes throughout the corridor. How the steam from the tea kettle intertwines with her flowing hair which curls and falls below the waist. Daughter of the haughty and arrogant, one of vice and virtue and malice and mercy. 

Though I adore you, I could never consider tearing you from this world of concrete and ice when you crack its very foundations and bring on early springs. Your vivid countenance, while admirable and agreeable to all, would cause my realm to shudder and melt, as reds and blues and tones of citrus would bleed into all that I have cleansed and kept proper and prepared. 

Unlike your sisters, you are not malleable and complacent. Although you worship me—if you were to discover my true intentions, you would fight me until your very last breath. You will breathe only sunflowers and snapdragons, and nothing of foxglove and wolfsbane.

In the end, you will stand in the soot and the charred remains of my design and you will be a brilliant phoenix, filled with cold fury and remorse and distilled horror over what I have done. And I will not ask for forgiveness, for forgiveness is for the pious and self righteous. I am not disillusioned by my significance for I know I am the greatest form of significance you will ever know. The night one such as you will start to dream will be the beginning of the end of your oblivion.

[quellawrites]

the rainbow on your lips

Grief, Hob finds out, is bright yellow. 

He would have expected it to be a sickly grey or the darkest black, and perhaps, if it were, it would have been a little more bearable. 

He’s at Dream’s wake and everything is coated in a brilliant, devastating yellow. It’s the colour of ripe lemons, of sunflowers in full bloom, infinite like a field of corn bathed in sunshine. It creeps in every thought, in every crevice of his heart, in every vessel of his body, until it’s all Hob can feel.

In the days and months that follow, it invades Hob’s life like broad strokes on a clear canvas. Sometimes, at night–when Hob dulls it with the best whisky he can find–it fades to a pale yellow, like a patch of sunlight on the carpet filtering through a window. 

It always returns to its previous brilliance in the morning.

----

Comfort has the colour of a lilac bush, with its pretty little flowers all clustered together, their delicate petals unfurling like a lover’s embrace.

Hob leans into Death’s hug and his world bursts in shades of lavender, violet, and amethyst, soothing his soul like a balm. 

“There might be a way to bring him back,” Death says, and hope blossoms in Hob’s chest, slow and tentative, vibrant red like freshly spilled blood. “But it won’t be the same.”

He won’t be the same, Hob reads in her words and sorrow paints his senses in a pale grey, the colour of a dove’s feather. 

He swallows and thinks about Dream’s pride, about his single-minded intensity, about his Endlessness. “Only if he wants to,” he says, and these five words cost him everything he has.

“He might not want to,” Death answers, her voice low and kind, pink like a rose petal. 

Not even for you, Hob hears beneath her kindness, and he’s terrified that even their budding relationship won’t be enough to get Dream back. Though, he knows it’s a chance he has to take. 

He nods and fear spears through him, vivid green and sour like a lime.

---

Happiness bathes the world in orange hues, like the flames of a bonfire. 

Dream stands in front of Hob, as thin and pale as ever, his beloved face twisted in a little frown that Hob yearns to smooth away. When his eyes land on Hob, his lips tick up into a tentative smile, a smile that stokes the flames of Hob’s happiness until they shine as bright as the sun. 

“Dream,” Hob breathes, and reaches out to grasp Dream’s hand. It is solid and warm and lovely against his own. 

“I do not,” Dream says, and his voice is deep and rich just as Hob remembers it. He pauses, swallows, and his fingers tighten around Hob’s like a vice. “I am afraid I cannot claim my old name any longer.”

You’ll always be my Dream, Hob wants to say, but he suspects Dream might not yet be ready to hear it. “Morpheus, then?” he offers, and squeezes Dream’s fingers back. I got you, his touch says.

Dream smiles and it’s soft and beautiful and bittersweet. “Morpheus,” he agrees, and he may not be Endless anymore but his eyes still hold galaxies within their depths. 

“You’re here,” Hob marvels, reaching out to cup Dream’s face. “You’re really here.”

“I am,” Dream says, leaning into Hob’s touch, and he looks so vulnerable that Hob wants to gather him in his arms and shield him from the world. “Though, I am no longer who I used to be.”

“You are in every way that matters.” Daring, Hob leans over and places his lips over Dream’s forehead in a soft, tentative kiss. Love blossoms through Hob in blue waves, like a raging ocean, cresting at the deepest blue and settling into the pale calm of still waters. Overwhelmed by the intensity of his own feelings, Hob whispers, “I can’t believe you really came back to me.”

“I found I could not leave my loved ones, if given a choice,” Dream murmurs. “Even though I must now learn to navigate the intricacies of this new form.”

Hob pulls back to look Dream in the eye and he’s not surprised to see fear and insecurity flicker over Dream’s face, a muted palette of greens. Immortality means Hob has had to go through important changes in his long life, and has had to weather many storms of his own. Throughout it all, he’s always had Dream, his only constant in a sea of never ending transformations. Now, it's Hob's turn to help Dream through his own storm. 

“Then you hold onto me,” he says, and pulls Dream into his arm, cradling the back of his head. His fine, impossible hair slides through his fingers like silk and Hob could weep at the feeling of touching it again. “And we get through this together.” 

Dream rewards him with another of his tiny, precious smiles. “Together,” he says, and the single word settles beneath Hob’s ribcage, warm and comforting. 

Hob leans over, and their lips slot together with the ease of an old habit. It’s slow and tender and like coming home but also dizzying and all-consuming like their first kiss. Fireworks explode behind Hob’s eyes, in a colourful whirlwind of love, hope, and happiness, washing out the lingering yellow tinges. 

He’s not such a fool to believe the road ahead of them will be smooth and painless, but as long as he’ll have Dream with him, he’s going to do his bloody best to make it work.  

[zantedeschia-praesul]

The visions had been vivid ever since Nagasone Kotetsu came home to us. I could hear whispers of the Commander and his Vice Commander, even seeing fleeting visages of them. And yet, something didn't sit right with me.

Then things began to happen. I see memories I didn't know I possessed.

I was there when I first stepped into the Shieikan. I was there when the swordsmith of Kaga entrusted me with my beloved Child Beneath the River. I was there when it rain blood in Ikedaya, and my child perished in my hand despite our victory. And I was there, in my final days, knowing too well that the cat I tried to kill would still be there in my garden.

Except…all of this shouldn't be my memories. These were all memories belonging to Shinsengumi First Captain Okita Souji.

But why did they feel too real…and too natural to me? Was I seeing my past life? That...that couldn't be it, right?

*~*

//old art of my saniwa, and the person affiliated to him the most <3

[skinks]

I got tagged by @rockcandyshrike to do a wee music meme post and I’m gonna follow her example and do my top 10 most RECENT repeated songs because that’s more interesting than just my top 10 repeated songs. gives it a lil summer snapshot. I find that I mostly listen to metal and prog in the winter whereas as soon as the sun is actually warm I remember funk and classical exists lmao

1. Breakwater - Release the Beast

However hard you might imagine this song goes, you’re not ready for it!!! Heard this for the first time before the Coheed show the other night, immediately recognised a part of it being the origin sample for the entire daft punk song “robot rock”. This is so insanely good, and my discovery of it coinciding with actual summer weather means I’ve been blasting it while driving around with my windows down nonstop lmao. You’re welcome fellow citizens. The beast is fucking released

2. Bilmuri - BOUTTA CASHEW

Just because it’s summer doesn’t mean I stop listening to metal and post-hxc… Bilmuri have never failed me except for the fact that they never tour the UK. The danciest tongue-in-cheek bangers this side of dance gavin dance

3. Halogen - U Got That

SPEAKING OF DANCE!! Who among us can resist a house drop when it’s this chonky. I heard this on a tiktok meme shared to tumblr that I had to do like 3 levels of googling to understand because I’m an old woman. But this song makes me actually want to go to a club for the second time ever in my crone life

4. Caroline Polachek - Caroline Shut Up

I had heard a snippet of one of her songs ages ago and it didn’t wow me, but I gave her new album a try and holy moly!! Really interesting acrobatic vocals plus lush dense intricate dramatic varied production… im in love. Even though this is actually from her first album, it’s the best example of what I like about her stuff. She’s like a mix of Bjork and 90s Madonna and Enya and Imogen Heap. And brother I’m nothing if not a Heaphead. Caroline pls come to Scotland

5. Maria Callas - O Mio Babbino Caro

I got this song stuck in my head and of course it’s so hard to sing along to a soprano aria, but I specifically love this Callas version because the way she really takes her time with the phrasing emphasises the longing of it and it makes me cry

6. bel canto - A Shoulder to the Wheel

Recently discovered there’s a name for an artistic aesthetic I have VIVID memory and nostalgia for from the mid-late 90s - the name of the aesthetic is Global Village Coffeehouse. I found a 50 hour gvc playlist on spotify and have been finding banging new music one of which is this song!! I love the propulsive synths and drums and the DRAMA… let it wash over u

7. Chris Rea - On The Beach

It’s got to be this specific single version not the slower album one! My whole life I only knew Rea as the singer of a pretty great xmas song until this April when my beloved pal added this to our Highland roadtrip playlist. If this doesn’t get you feeling like a neon-soaked sweaty lounge-lizard having a hallucinatory tango under a palm tree with a sexy extra from Miami Vice idk what will

8. Aviations - Coma

Is it really a joe skinks music post if there’s not a 10 minute prog metal song………….

I’m hoping their last two singles this year mean we have an imminent album incoming and it’s gonna SLAP as hard as the rest of their output! Aviations embody everything I love most and seek out in my prog metal; super agile clean AND harsh vocals interacting with the extreme amount of syncopation and intricacy in the instrumental arrangements. Aviations use piano in their compositions better than any other prog band I enjoy. I mean listen to this shit it’s beautiful

9. Stereophonics - Pick A Part That’s New

I had a really fun time making a playlist of songs I remember my parents always playing in my childhood, it’s full of a lot of 90s soul and electronic music and also this… whiny britpop. But it surprised me how much fantastic whiny britpop there is

10. Sumerlands - Force of a Storm

My brother introduced me to this album and it truly fucks how much they sound like an old-school Heavy Metal band while being fully contemporary. Like they truly sound like Sabbath or Iron Maiden but with modern production sensibilities. I LOVE the strength of this guy’s voice. Like if this doesn’t make you feel like a barbarian riding a winged steed and brandishing a massive sword against a dragon drawn by Frank Frazetta idk what will. Can u tell fantasising is how I process music

I will tag @shrikestrike @acuzena @lungtile @kitsune-sam @wordssometimesfail @kelsey-arts @erebones and whomstever else wants to… of course nobody has to if they don’t want

[sffroncloaked]

a List of Abilities for my beloved melon :

Teleportation : a limited ability, as it takes quite a lot of energy, particularly for larger distances. On her own she can move a few feet, but portals are needed to travel properly.

Sensing fear : much like how Zag is able to see how people have died, Mel has insight into what it is that troubles one's mind even subconsciously, enabling her to use that fear to break the mind with the following.

Inflicting Madness : specifically in illusions, and hallucinations of all types. the fears of the inflicted seem to manifest before them in various ways but those around them are unable to see what they see. although the hallucinations are extremely vivid, they can cease in an instant, leaving no trace of anything being amiss. the inflicted person also gets increased feelings of paranoia, of being watched and hunted.

Inflicting nightmares and night terrors : similar to the previous bullet point, Mel can warp dreams based on a person's fears, working with Hypnos to give her access to their dreams. Additionally, she can inflict night terrors and, with Hypnos keeping the victim suspended in sleep and wakefulness, cause the visions and feelings of suffocation one feels during sleep paralysis.

Medium between living and deceased : the living can call upon her to communicate with, or pass a message on to those in the Underworld, and vice versa, those in the underworld with permission from Hades can communicate with the living via Mel. Additionally, restless spirits on the surfaces (those not given proper send offs, or unable to pay Charon's fee) often flock to her.

Protection spells : Mel can use protective magick on others, or give protective charms to ward off certain dangers or make one less detectable to someone seeking to harm them (e.g. other witches, nymphs, certain gods)

Inflicting rot/cursing crops : unlike her mother and brother, Mel cannot use her abilities to grow anything ( though she does enjoy gardening, she can only do it in a 'mortal' way, with tools and patience ) instead, she can twist and inflict crops to something unfit for consumption, or cause them to rot entirely.

Shape-shifting/glamouring : self-explanatory! Though this ability is also limited and takes a while for her to harness completely. Shape-shifting takes a lot of energy so initially she can only remain in an altered shape for a limited amount of time depending on how complex it is

(Mostly) non-magickal abilities : able to use melee weapons such as staffs, sickles, daggers, and swords on their own, but generally uses them as instruments imbued with offensive maigick. Is very agile, can jump higher than most, and has a powerful kick.

[alienaiver]

Hiii Nohr!!!

I'm cheering for you for your trip to Japan to be fun! It sounds like a dream come true! 💜

I am currently just sitting in my living room, cuddling my cat, Audie whose purring up a storm!

Is someone watching your cat while you take your trip?

And your top 3 songs you listen to that put you in a good mood~?

jsjsjsjs deru thank you!!!! 😭😭 it really IS like a dream come true! its been postponed twice due to my cats surgeries last year and other economic complications so both my friend and i have a lot of doom-related anxiety about even managing to get into the plane KAKSSK but this time we WILL succeed! every plane ticket and hotel has been taken care of so now we Know itll happen!! 🥹

that sounds absolutely lovely!! i remember seeing audie on pictures, so adorable!! 🥰

and yes! my cat is a very distrustful and territorial rescue bUT! i have a friend who was basically my roommate the first few years i had him, so he absolutely loves their time alone when they catsit. other people can catsit too, but its usually v stressful for both him and whoevers unlucky enough to stop by! 🥴 luckily my friend loves just living in my apartment whenever they catsit 🥹🥰 itll be three weeks this time tho, thats the longest ive ever been seperated from him!! 😱

and for three songs. it does change around a bit from time to time but currently its vivid vice (my beloved) by who-ya extended, dream lantern by radwimps (honestly... any radwimps song!!) and brave as a noun by AJJ! what about you? (also an honorary mention is starwalkin' by lil nas x!!! its so 😤😤😤😤)

[fanfiction-corner]

hi !! can you write a one shot ab jschlatts s/o being really nice but also way too trusting and he gets protective (obviously in game bc SHLAGG) thank you <3

why my dear, of course, I can write you something like this. and did I not read this properly and write something that doesn't exactly fit? yes. but shush its 3am.  also, this didn't turn out as long as I wanted, but it's cute, my partner said so.  take your Jshit fluff and shhh.

-Masterlist-

Warnings: none (its fluff shhh)

Pairing: Jschlatt x reader

Pronouns: (not specified)

Word Count: 564

In all the time schlatt was in power, in all the days and months he was president of Manburg. The thing that pissed the man off the most was seeing you and his Vice-President all buddy-buddy. He knew you were loyal to him, destined to be his empress and wear the crown of his country. But seeing you, his beloved, laughing and talking excitedly with his co-worker made his blood boil. He wanted to pull you away from the beanie-wearing idiot and hold you close, yet he couldn’t at the risk of looking jealous. I mean he was jealous but people couldn’t know that. 

Schlatt was sat at his desk, working through the boring business of being a president. His mind was elsewhere, however, focusing on when he saw you and quackity earlier that morning. Laughing like the friends you were and enjoying the day. It only made the man spiteful, he hated it. He wanted you to himself. 

His thoughts of torturing the man came to a halt as a knock rattled against the wood of his office door, making him look up with a tired glare. Grumbling out a reply, the door soon opened, revealing his empress as you walked in. happily heading over to give him his well-deserved affection, having seen it in the bags under his eyes how much he needed some loving words and kisses from you. Which he of course happily received. 

Your affections still didn’t settle his mind, however, finding himself pulling you to sit on his lap. An arm wrapped protectively around your waist as he hid his face in the crook of your neck, an irritated growl leaving him. Of course, this left you puzzled. He had never acted this way before, making you slightly concerned. 

“What’s bothering you?” you asked, a hand running its fingers through his hair, the soothing motions an attempt at calming him. 

“I want you to stay away from quackity” the ram huffed into your neck, “he’s being too friendly, I don’t like it.”

His response made you laugh, it was adorable. The Jschlatt was gett jealous, jealous! Of quackity no less! The prospect of it made you giggle, snickering at his words and only making him more frustrated. 

“What? Im serious!” he protested, moving his face from your next to look at your laughing face, narrowing his eyes at you in mild disdain at your mocking. 

“Im sorry-” your laughter interrupted you, having to calm a bit before speaking your next words. “It’s just, your worries are not needed. He’s just a friend, I promise nothing would ever happen between me and him”

“You sure?” he asked, the scepticism vivid in his tired eyes. 

“Im positive. Im your and only yours.”

Your words seemed to have dampened his suspicious, if only a bit, letting him relax and lean into your warming touch again. Enjoying your presence and the affectionate words that soon started to spill from your lips. He wasnt one to doubt your word, if anything whatever you said went but in this instance, he was still slightly suspicious. If only for the fact he knew the type of person quackity was and he wasnt happy about it. 

So even after your words, signing your love only to him. A twinge of disdain panged in his soul whenever he saw you and his vice-president talking to one another.

[torgawl]

🌼 when you get this, list 5 songs u like to listen to, publish. Then, send this ask to 10 of your favourite followers (positivity is cool) 🎶 (no obligation of course)

thank you sm for sending this vanessa!! :] some songs i like listening to are:

1. vivid vice by who-ya extended (my beloved jjk opening)

2. a pearl by mitski

3. social cues by cage the elephant

4. painkiller by dreamers

5. understand by greer

[sasorikigai]

 ❛❛ You shouldn't set yourself on fire trying to keep others warm. ❜❜ He says, of course from a place of caring, knowing the other could never act otherwise. For this is how he has always been, and maybe one of the reasons that made this resilient rebel heart fall in love with the Grandmaster in the first place.

Random Inbox Shenanigans || @indulgentia || always accepting!

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 || Once, seemingly for sempiternal eternity, did the fold and bend of Scorpion’s gargoyled shadow rented and bisected Hanzo Hasashi’s heart asunder. The once proverbial light, spliced with suffocating cloud, injured him without a glib fondle of hope, the lightbringer that would slaughter chaos and despair dwelling within his soul for good. He may still feel like as if dangled over the cliff edge, with his feet precariously hanging above a deep churning inferno. Maybe he will once again, fall into the fathomless depth and let his proverbial entirety disintegrate into naught, only to manifest himself as something entirely else. Scorpion was nothing, but mishmash of broken pieces, which were his life’s unrealized and unwritten memories, encrypted in skin and oxygen, scar tissue and visuals unraveling molecules nurturing his nonexistence. 

This was never how my story was supposed to end, lest my scorched flesh and inevitably changed existence hold these essential facts without secrecy or hidden aspects. Underneath Grandmaster Hasashi’s layers of complexion, his own learned lessons criticize both his subconscious and soul. For he is embellished in blemish, a vivid painting birthed in cruel, devastating strokes of hellfire, which served to bring dichotomy of intimate hearthfire of rebirth against the unrelenting surge beckoning wrath and vengeance. 

“As the moon’s soft gaze beckons our souls with oceans of perfect love, tantalizing urge of wholesome lust, and lovable rivers of affection... My proverbial fire will cradle the others’ souls with my vivacious and vigorous fire,” Scorpion caused more than enough pain and destruction, and wrought the world in the brink of extinction. Hardening the decision towards the chaos and strife to the means of the wraith’s living condition only brought desolation and despair, and toxic corrosion amidst his vessels. Hanzo still mourns the deaths of so many, including his family and of his own life, but he could ever plunge towards the nadir of his life, basking beneath the addiction of impervious darkness which only sought further retaliation through carnage and annihilation. If it weren’t for Kuai Liang’s unconditional love which extended roots upon his desiccated heart, Hanzo Hasashi could never have been rebranded. 

To say that they were in love would be an understatement - that vague weakened phrase could never express the wholesomeness of it. For they love each other, they live in each other, through each other, by each other. They are each other by the definition, becoming a continuous progress of existence that represents the past, present, and future as an inevitable force that can bring both a heaven-sent whispering comfort and torrential deluge of savage yearning. 

“I have attempted to eliminate the burdens of such vices that once swallowed my existence in such contaminating and threatening degrees, and if my magnanimous warmth could keep the others safe from the inevitable torment... I would never alleviate this heaviness of pain residing in my heart and soul, which remains gloomy, filled with anger, with clouds weighted by bloody rain.” Against Kuai Liang’s steady presence, Hanzo extends a welcome embrace, never forbidding himself from whispering “I love you,” as his caressing digits seek the veins of his beloved’s light olive flesh.  ▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 ||

[yandere-wishes]

Which Yandere Dorm Are You??

So a few days ago a friend of mine convinced me to watch the first two Harry Potter movies with her. Now I don't really like Harry Potter the story just isn't my type, but what I did like about the movie was the four dorms! This made me think of what it would be like if instead of "personality types" people got sorted into dorms or houses based on what they would be like as Yanderes. The end result was The six Yandere Dorms! Plus a quick look into my take of the yandere verse. Note that in no way, shape or form am I an artist so all the dorm Icons look very messy and horrible! In addition to that, the Yandere Verse section is still a draft I'll elaborate more on it later.

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At an unknown time in the future, a new ideology was beginning to bloom. It was an eerie, morbid sickening philosophy.... and yet it spread through society like wildfire. At first, people thought it was brought on by a sort of infection to a person's mind. Psychologists and doctors spent countless months trying to research it. They examined hundreds of people which they thought had gotten this new "disease", but there was nothing out of the ordinary for any of the patients. By the end of the study, countless researchers had stated that they too had begun to believe in this ominous phenomenon.

A year later the 75% of the population was starting to believe in and follow this new trend. What was this new trend you may ask? Well, it's rather complicated to explain...

The philosophy begins with the simple notion that a couple should have complete control over one another. That when two people consent to a relationship they have agreed to devote their entire lives to each other, thus they should know everything about each other, do nothing without the other person's knowledge and even be ready to kill for each other's love, respect, and protection. But it doesn't end there the philosophy continues to say that despite both partners needing to equally belong to one another, one is more entitled to pick and chose his lover. This statement was vague at first but soon started to make sense when it's devoted followers started to become obsessed with a person of their choosing. It was as if they could only function when they were in close proximity to their person of interest. Time spent apart from them caused to obsessor to act in a different manner than their initial personality. Most people where so desperate for the love of their obsession that they began to kill for it. First, as a means to gain attention, then as a means to protect them and finally as a means to own and control them.

A huge some of society started showing signs of playing into this "love disease" with roughly 55% playing the role of the obsessor and 45% playing the role of the victim. By the two year mark, many political figures had begun to rise in favor and support of this new romance perspective. The two most famous being Hera Saino and Delya Petra. The two where the firsts to come up with a name for this philosophy. Calling it the Lovesick Movement. It took after both the Romantic movement and the gothic movement. This abnormally long era was classified in its portrayal by gruesome arts with vivid colors, Writer who stopped writing about small-time crushes and instead took on stories about chaotic, devoted love being found amongst characters. Artists and poets stopped look for different sources of inspiration and instead only sought their one true obsession. It was especially popular amongst the younger generation, who spent a great deal of their time trying to the "best way" to show their crushes just how they felt.

Hera Saino and Dilya Petra were later dubbed the LoveSick Queens and also The Yandere Queens. They both played a role in naming the two groups. They took inspiration from old Japanese tails of lovesick driven murderers (which was also a style that was getting all the more popular). The obsessors were known as Yanderes while the victims were known as wither Beloveds or Darlings. After the naming prosses, the internet was flooded with online quizzes about a person's ideal darling or yandere. DIY's for "romantic weapons" and "passion restrains" were the most-watched videos globally.

In later years a new group of amorous visionaries arose, they were later called the Twisted Eight and they each played a role in classifying the various types of Yanderes in the world as well as exploring the traits and conditions of both Yanders and darlings/Beloveds. Amongst the group 240 book regarding the "lovesick movement" where published aswell as 59 legal books, documenting the new laws and rules the legal system should take up as a result of the lovesick movement. Each later became associated with the specific "yandere type" which they researched.

Erebus Zero- The founder of the "Sadistic" yanderes. Heavy believer that pain is closely associated with love and is the only means of displaying affection for certain people.

Shouta Caben- The founder of the "Obsessive" yanderes. Though to be the oldest classification of yandere as well as the primary source of anyone that is lovesick.  

Elliot Belanger- The founder of the "Possessive" Yanderes. Founded on the belief that people should own their lovers and that they must do anything in their power to keep them as only there.

Renato Dean- The founder of the "Protective" yanderes. Lives off the faith that one must do anything and go to any extremes to protect the one they love, even if it means killing or dying for them.

Valentino Lazarus- Founder of the "manipulative" yandere types. Believes in using one's smarts and wits to "convince" a darling that they are meant to be.

Theodosia Slater- The founder of the "Delusional" yandere type. The ones that are stubborn and believe that their darlings love them already despite not even knowing their names.

Ivy Phillips- Not a founder, but the main researcher in the fields of twisted love and mad love. Twisted love is the rare marvel of two yandere falling in love with each other. While Mad love is when a darling not only falls into Stockholm Syndrom but begins to show yandere trait for their capture.

Alexandrite Iaculat- Not a founder but the main writer of the "new era laws". These are modernized laws and regulations which uphold the society and avoid it falling into anarchy.

The Dorms

Each of the dorms is organized internationally, meaning that dorm names and symbols are the same worldwide. Children get sorted into their "houses" when they reach the eighth grade (as a form of respect to the Twisted Eight) these houses will remain with them long after they have graduated. While someone's future job isn't always tied to what houses they where placed in there are certain occupations made especially for a specific type of yandere.

How the organization process works is that in the child's seventh year, they will write a series of personal essays and tests. These tests judge the child's analytical thinking, personality, "intensity" amongst other things.

For the sake of this story, we will be discussing the houses in general but will only be focusing their effect on a private school called Mysteria Academy.

Cruistica

The first dorm and one of the golden star dorms (the most valued of the dorms). Despite what people traditionally think of the sadist yandere, the members of Cruistica are sorted into this house due to having above-average analytical thinking and an uncountable curiosity. They are the ones who love their darlings without having a way to show it, they are intense and brutal yet also very tactical. They believe in proving they love their darling in a more physical way.... this doesn't mean straight out hurting and punishing them, it could be as simple as making them watch as they commit a murder or simply locking them away for a few days without human connections. Overall if you are someone who has a dark, twisted way of thinking, a curious mind and the need to control and claim your darling in every manner ever known, then this is the dorm for you! Common subtypes (Strict, controlling, obsessive-possessive)

Current dorm leader and vice dorm leader ( Ahri Cronos: Age: 18  Grade: 12 | Zion Sguis age:16  Grade: 11 )

media examples (Tony Stark (Marvel), Judar (Magi), Dabi (My hero academia) Kanato (Diabolik lovers)

Think of a mix between (Ravenclaw and Savanaclaw, maybe a bit of Ignihyde)

Jaséder

This dorm is known for their possessive nature...for lack of a better word. When they own something they rather die (or kill) to keep it as their's and their's alone. They are one of the more emotional dorms, despite not always coming right out to their darlings and saying "I love you". The motto of this dorm is "What's mine is mine and I'm willing to kill for it". In this particular academy, this motto is plastered in the main hall of the Jaséder house. If you are slightly greedy, clingy and will do anything for your goals then this is the dorm for you!

Common subtypes (easily jealous, obsessive-possessive, clingy)

Current dorm leader and vice dorm leader ( Mithra Helios; Age: 17 Grade: 11 | Vera Bellum age; 17 Grade; 11)

media examples ( Mammon (obey me), Zexion (kingdom hearts),  Inosuke Hashibira (Demon Slayer), Katsuki Bakugo (My hero Academia) )

Think of a mix between (Slytherin and Octovinella)

Chissi

The obsessed house, the members of this dorm take fangirling / fanboying to new extremes! When they "fall" for someone. Every room in this dorm has a specific space for shrines to be built and built-in shelves for "borrow" items from one's darling. These people also tend to find a sort of tranquility in collecting things, organizing things and making lists. Arguably the most emotional and oldest dorm out of the six. Also a golden star dorm. If you are a fanboy/fangirl then this is the dorm for you!

Common subtypes (soft, obsessive-possessive, overbearing, (certain) childish )

Current dorm leader and vice dorm leader( Mania Zac: Age: 18 Grade: 12  | Pluto Ray Age: 18 Grade: 12)

media examples (Bucky Barnes (Marvel), Toga Himiko (My hero academia), Osamu Dazai (Bungo Stray Dogs), Satan (obey me) )

Think of a mix between (Hufflepuff and Scarabia and maybe a bit of Pomefiore)

Lockheart

People in this dorm and somewhat paranoid believing that harm lies behind every corner. They are probably the mon friend of the group and will make sure everyone is safe and sound. They are somewhat on the more caring side of students in the school they hate seeing people hurt and have the lowest kill rate. They normally lock their darlings up somewhere so no harm comes to them, will make sure that anyone how posses a threat to their darling is either far away or too scared to come near said, darling. Killing might be used as a last resort. In conclusion, you a mom friend but somewhat chill but also gutsy? You go here.

Common subtypes (soft, obsessive-possessive, overbearing,)

Current dorm leader and vice dorm leader (Zur Akarana Age:19 Grade:12 | Ruth Caballero age:18 grade:12)

media examples (Natasha Romanoff (Marvel), Lucifer (obey me), Sebastian Michaelis (Black Butler), Ruki Mukami (Diabolik lover), )

Think of a mix between (Honestly the personification of the love child between Hufflepuff and Gryffindor)

Almoakiso

This dorm is the most cunning, tricky and deceitful out of all the other dorms. They will make you believe that every lie is a truth every truth a lie. They can convince you of anything, anything at all! They will mangle your emotions and twist then to better suit their own needs. When they want a darling they will get that darling. the poor darling will soon fall into a sticky web of lies and half-truths, poor thing has already been distanced from all their friends the only person they can turn to is their loving and "totally honest" yandere. By the way, they have a rivalry with Cruistica over everything from grades and academics/smarts to darlings and weapons.   If you are manipulative, tricky and cunning then step right en up to this dorm! Common subtypes (stealthy and strict, apathetic at times)

Current dorm leader and vice dorm leader( Damien Edgar age: 18 Grade 12 | Willow Violetson  Age:16 Grade:10)

media examples (Loki (Marvel), Light Yagami (death note), Marluxia (Kingdome hearts), Azul Ashengrotto (Twisted wonderland) )

Think of a mix between (Slytherin and Ravenclaw with octovinelle sprinkled in there)

Rêve-De-Dies

The "baby" of the six dorms, the members of this dorm are stubborn, clingy and have way more emotions then they know what to do with. They zone out quickly, have short attention spans and often need others to bring them back on track. However, they are the friendliest house with the LOWEST death rate and the HIGHEST rate of truly happy darlings. If you are the baby or childish friend, are nice and always caught in your own mind then this is the dorm for you.

Common subtypes (Childish, clingy, soft)

Current dorm leader and vice dorm leader (Haoma Lune age: 17 Grade:12 | Aiko Larimore age:15 grade:10 )

media examples (La brava (my hero academia), Honey (OHSHC), Aladdin (Magi), Aalim Al Asim (twisted wonderland)

Think of a mix between (Hufflepuff and slight Scarabia)

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So guys let me know in the comments what you thought of the fic and which yandere house you are!

[blightarts]

Blades of Order & Chaos

Chapter Title: Prologue

Word Count: 4362

Disclaimer: All rights belong to Pixelberry. This is my version for the upcoming sequel of Blades of Light & Shadow. I am not claiming this to be the canon story of the book. This is only written to increase the hype for the actual sequel.

MC/Pairing: Kite (Blue Elf Male MC) / Kite x Nia

Taglist: @princessstellaris @mechaspirit @brightningstar @cal-north @mahariel-theirin @lxdy-starfury @tyrils-star @imturaxamara @kelseaaa

It’s a silent night in the capital city of Whitetower. Each member of the group is settled in their bedrooms. Some are asleep while the others are restless. Kite just woke up with a gasp, panting and sweating after witnessing visions in his sleep. Nia shoots awake next to him with an immediate concern.

Nia: Kite? What’s wrong?

Kite looks around, catching his breath. He looks at his beloved, worried.

Kite: Nothing… just a bad dream…

Nia caresses his cheek and gives him a reassuring peck on the lips.

Nia: That’s right, just a bad dream. Now, come on. Let’s get some rest.

She smiles at him and Kite smiles back with a subtle uncertainty in his eyes. The two lie back down on bed, with Kite spooning Nia, before drifting back to sleep. Kite can’t help but recall the visions he saw; that strange hooded figure, the ruined burning city… and of course, the creature above him, huge and terrible…

Meanwhile, something similar happens to the rest of the group.

In Kade’s room, he’s laid down on his bed, unable to sleep. He begins recollecting a memory from when he was still an infant. He recalls being in a forest with the sound of people panting and another child crying being heard nearby. He then heard people talking frantically around him.

Voice 1: How did we not notice his presence for two thousand years?!

Voice 2: I do not know, but what confuses me is why he had to keep himself preserved instead of slaying his own nephew.

Voice 3: Well, it matters no longer. We must find a safe place and remain there long enough for Estel’s son to grow and become the hero this Realm needs.

Voice 1: Riverbend should be nearby. Let us seek refuge there.

The two voices continue to pant whilst running to their destination. This is all that Kade can remember, but the fact that the two voices mentioned Riverbend, mean that two of them could be his own parents and the other being Kite’s. He ruffles his hair, trying to know more.

Kade: Ugh… what does this all mean?!

In Mal’s room, he is sitting by the balcony, playing with a coin and gazing at the stars. He looks at his coin, giving him vivid flashbacks of the day before his retirement from the Thieves Guild. He recalls being inside an ancient dungeon buried in the Zaradun Wastelands. He then remembers his fellow thieves yelling in despair whilst trying to escape the dungeon as it was crumbling.

Thief 1: That… thing is alive!

Thief 2: How is that even possible?! This dungeon has to be at least… thousands of years old!

As the group approached the exit, the stone floor below them started shaking before it broke apart, causing most of the members to fall to their deaths. Mal, however, managed to leap out of danger in time, but as he was about to head out, a voice called for his help.

Fledgling Thief: Mister Volari!

Mal turned to see the fledgling hanging by the edge of the collapsed floor. He ran back to grab the young boy.

Mal: Hang on, kit! I got yo—

But before Mal could reach the fledgling, the floor crumbled once more, causing the young thief to fall to his death, much to Mal’s horror. As the ground in front of him started to crack, the former thief immediately ran out of the dungeon as it buries itself deeper beneath the sand. After returning to the Guild in Whitetower, Mal retired, overwhelmed by his Survivor’s Guilt, and began his life as an adventurer instead.

In the present day, he grits his teeth and clenches his fist, gripping the coin given to him by the fledgling he failed to save.

In Tyril’s room, the elf is asleep on his bed, dreaming peacefully, but that peace won’t last long. He begins experiencing a vision of the past, not his own past, but the history of House Starfury. Tyril finds himself in the middle of a battlefield.

Tyril: This place…

He attempts to familiarize his surroundings, seeing corpses of elves around him, with almost half of them having pale skin and blood on their lips. Tyril then recognized them as the cursed elven race, the Vhampyrs, prompting him to realize where he is.

Tyril: This is the Battle of Cragheart, where Lady Farin defeated the Beast of Blood…

He sprints across the battlefield, looking for his ancestor, Farin Starfury. Eventually, he does so and finds her, with the Blade of Sol in hand, standing face-to-face with the Beast itself, a large gargoyle-like creature with long black hair and crimson eyes. But what happened next shocked both Tyril and Farin as the Beast just spoke.

Beast of Blood: F-Fa-Fariiiiin…

Farin is caught off-guard for a second but quickly regains focus.

Farin: Do not distract me, you monster!

A fiery aura surrounds the elf as immense magical power surges through her, ready to strike. But the Beast continues to communicate with her.

Beast of Blood: V-Vla… dussss….

Once again, Farin lowers her guard as she sees the Beast’s eyes switching colors, from red to blue and vice versa. Soon, she begins to notice the features present in the Beast’s face as she recognizes its true identity.

Farin: B… Brother…?

Tyril widens his eyes at this revelation. He tries to reach out to Farin but was pulled back by an invisible force, causing him to jolt from his sleep with a gasp. He pants, processing what he just saw, before staring out the window in confusion.

Tyril: Lady Farin had a… brother…?

The elf attempts to shake off this thought out of his head before returning to his slumber.

In Imtura’s room, she is fast asleep but her troubled expressions mean that she might not having such a pleasant dream. Like Tyril, she’s having a vision, but instead of the past, it shows an event in the future. The orc finds herself back home, in Flotilla, but she doesn’t have full control over her own body. It’s almost as if she’s seeing the perspective of her future self. She then notices, in horror, Flotilla falling apart in flames, with other of her kind panicking.

Orc Guard 1: Get the children to safety! I’ll join you once we secure the royal family.

Orc Guard 2: Wait, is that…? The princess!

Orc Guard 1: Princess Imtura! Retreat to the Wra–

Imtura’s future self grits her teeth and turns to the guards.

Imtura (Future): Prioritize the citizens! Let me secure my own mother!

The orc guards reluctantly nod and follow the princess’s orders. As Imtura’s future self gets closer to the throne room, the present time Imtura’s vision start to get blurry, as if the dream is about to end.

Imtura (Present): Wait… no… bring me back… I need to know if my mother is alive! BRING ME BACK!!

But her cries do not matter as she wakes up in shock followed by deep breaths escaping her mouth. Imtura looks at her trembling hands, wondering if what she saw was real or if her mother was even safe should the events become true. She then repeatedly and gently smacks her hands against her cheeks.

Imtura: Come on, Imtura! It’s just a dream. Everyone is alright back home.

With a calming sigh, the orc lies back down and falls asleep a few minutes later.

And lastly, in the prisons of Whitetower, Aerin is seated at the corner of his cell, contemplating instead of sleeping. However, instead of thoughts about regret for his actions or vengeance upon those who imprisoned him, memories fill his mind, memories that date back to his childhood.

When Aerin was around six years old, he was seated on a bench in the castle’s flower garden. Beside him was his older brother, Baldur, who was nine years old at the time. Baldur was holding a stick and raised it up high, pretending to be a hero, before turning to Aerin.

Baldur (Past): One day, Aerin, we shall trek beyond the borders of Morella, and make peace with the surrounding kingdoms. With your wits and my strength, we will become kings that will lead our people to the right path!

Aerin smiled shyly but looked down.

Aerin (Past): I am uncertain, brother. You are the eldest, the heir to the throne. Technically, only you can become king while I just stand beside you as your advisor.

Baldur grinned as he ruffled Aerin’s hair.

Baldur (Past): Nonsense! I shall make it so that we both become kings.

Aerin looked up at his brother with wonder.

Aerin (Past): Really?

Baldur nodded.

Baldur (Past): I cannot do this alone. We’re brothers. We have to stick together.

As the memory fades, Aerin places a palm on his head, riddled.

Aerin: …Have I always had memory…?

The night goes on and our heroes are lost in thought after what they had just experienced.

A new day begins, brighter than the last, and the group gathers at the main hall of the castle, preparing to say their goodbyes and go back to their normal lives, but after what they’ve experienced the previous night, it’s too soon to depart just yet. On the way to the main hall, Kite and Nia are walking down the stairs, hand in hand. Kite tries his best to hide his worried expression from Nia, but the priestess is too occupied with a slight headache. She gently places a hand on her head as her vision starts to blur. Kite notices this.

Kite: You okay, Nia? You look like you’re starting to get lightheaded.

Nia meets Kite’s concerned eyes but a vision flashes before hers. In this vision, she is seeing through the perspective of someone from long ago. Nia finds herself in some sort of tunnel and in front of her is a dark figure with swords hovering around them as they approach her. The priestess sees herself raising her hands against this mysterious figure ready to blast them with the power of the Light. However, the figure was too elusive as they quickly evaded the blast before plunging one of their swords onto Nia, prompting the vision to cease and the priestess to gasp and fall onto Kite’s arms. The elf’s expression turned from concern to fear.

Kite: Woah, woah… what happened…? Are you okay?

Nia takes a moment to breathe while Kite helps her stand.

Nia: I don’t know… I… think I just saw… a glimpse of the past…

Kite: What do you mean? From when?

Nia shakes her head and shrugs in uncertainty. Kite just nods and kisses her forehead, not wanting to put much pressure into her after what she just went through. After regaining composure, the priestess sighs and looks at her beloved with a reassuring smile.

Nia: I’ll be okay. The bad things are all over now.

Kite hesitantly smiles back at her, thoughts of last night’s dream not being able to escape his mind.

Kite: …Yeah, they are.

Suddenly, they hear someone at the bottom of the stairs.

Mal: Hey, are you two just gonna get married and spend the rest of your lives on that step? We ain’t got all day.

Kite and Nia turn to see their friends waving at them. Kade and Imtura are snickering because of Mal’s joke while Tyril shakes his head in disappointment. Threep and Loola flutter towards Kite and Nia with grins on their faces.

Threep: Come. There’s much to do.

The couple nods at the two nespers before descending the stairs to meet up with the rest of the group. As all of them head towards the main hall, Kite notices troubled faces on his friends, realizing that they must’ve seen something similar to what he saw last night. Knowing that they might be hesitant in sharing, he decides to share his experience.

Kite: Guys, I have something to say…

Kite halts behind his friends as they all turn towards him.

Tyril: Is something the matter, Kite?

Kite grits his teeth but reluctantly speaks up.

Kite: I don’t think we’re done yet… There’s still more about the Shadow Realm we do not know.

Everyone tilts their head on confusion.

Kade: What do you mean?

Imtura: Yeah, we kicked the Dreadlord and his goons’ asses while we were there.

Kite shakes his head.

Kite: It’s not just them… There’s something else in that damned place…

He clutches himself, shivering while the thought of Whitetower in ruins fills his mind. Nia steps up to hold and comfort him.

Nia: Kite, is this about that bad dream you had last night?

Kite looks at her and nods in terror.

Mal: What exactly did you see?

Kite gulps, trying not to hurl.

Kite: I was warned about a great danger coming from the Shadow Realm… After wielding the Blade of Light in there, I seemed to have attracted the attention of a far more threatening foe… the Empire of Ash, if I recall.

Threep and Loola’s eyes start to widen in dread.

Loola: D-Did you just say…?

Threep: The Empire of Ash…?

The group notices the nespers shivering in fear, as if they know more than what the others think.

Kade: Wait, what is the Empire of Ash?

Threep gulps and tries to speak but is too horrified. Loola steps up and speaks up instead.

Loola: The Empire of Ash is an ancient enemy that preceded the Shadow Court. Some stories say that they had fought against the first generation of the Elven Empire, but others say that they are the Elven Empire itself before being usurped by their foes who fought for righteousness. Whichever you look at it, they are far worse and more dangerous than the Shadow Court, nay, even the Dreadlord himself.

Threep coughs and finally talks.

Threep: And if Kite is saying that they are coming once again, then this Realm is in great danger.

Tyril: How come I’ve just heard of them now? Their history should’ve been written in the elven archives.

Loola shakes her head.

Loola: All records about the Empire had been erased during the war against the Shadow Court. All of them, gone.

Mal: And since you and Threep are the only ones from that era, only you two knew about it?

The two nespers nod.

Imtura: What else do you know about the Empire?

Threep: I heard that the Empire was led by the one called “Fateseeker”, an individual with unimaginable power, able to lay waste on a civilization within minutes.

Shivers travel down on the group’s spines upon hearing what Threep said.

Kade: How did the Empire fall?

Loola: Rumors say that a single elf who wielded the power of both Light and Shadows was able to push back their forces and eventually, banish them in the Shadow Realm.

Threep: The elves of our time believed that the Dreadlord and the Shadow Court were merely just pawns of the Empire.

After this huge revelation, everyone in the group is taken aback and tries to process what they’ve just heard. Gritting his teeth, Kite stands up straight and walks past the group.

Nia: Kite? Where are you going?

Kite: The prisons. I’m paying him a visit.

The group realizes who Kite is referring to and goes after him.

Mal: You sure, kit? We still don’t know if you’re dream is just… well, a dream.

Kite: I’m certain. He’s spent twenty years of his life in the Shadows, so he must know something about the Empire.

Soon, the group arrives in Whitetower’s lockup, standing in front of Aerin’s cell. He scoffs at them.

Aerin: Have you come here to mock me before you all return to your normal lives? That’s petty, even for me.

Kite: We’ve come here to ask you a few things.

Aerin raises his head with a smirk.

Aerin: Oh? What more can you ask from me? The Dreadlord and the Shadow Court are gone. You have nothing else to interrogate out of me.

Kite: What do you know about the Empire of Ash?

The prince raises an eyebrow.

Aerin: Ah, I see. I thought the Dreadlord was just exaggerating when he said that he serves a far greater power than his own.

He stands up and walks up to the bars of his cell.

Aerin: Alright then, Kite. I shall entertain you.

He then smirks before continuing.

Aerin: While planning for the Shadow Court’s return, the Dreadlord has mentioned about the Empire a couple times. He said how he needed a vessel who is prominent in Light Magic in order to act as the beacon, signaling the Empire.

The prince turns to Nia, who backs away while Kite steps between them. Aerin chuckles and continues.

Aerin: Even with the Dreadlord’s demise, he still was able to fulfill his goal… all because of your foolishness.

Insulted, Kite attempts to charge at Aerin but his friends hold him back. The former prince just laughs before sitting at the corner of his cell.

Aerin: That is all I can offer you, Kite. If you want to know more, you could pay the dwarves of Zaradun a visit, that is if you can find one at all, since they’ve been missing prior to the rise of the Shadow Court.

Kite grits his teeth before breaking out of his friends’ hold and taking his leave. The rest of the group follow him.

Kade: Kite, where are you going?

Kite: The Zaradun Wastelands.

Nia grabs Kite’s arm and stops him in his tracks.

Nia: Kite, why are you so intent on stopping the Empire?

Kite breaks into tears.

Kite: Because it’s my fault why we have to deal with them in the first place!

The group falls silent as the elf continues.

Kite: I brought the Light upon the Shadow Realm. The Empire is returning because of me. I have to make up for my mistake.

Kite clenches his fists as they tremble.

Imtura: Why is it that there’s something else you’re not telling us?

Kite gulps.

Tyril: Kite, tell us. Please.

Kite sighs and gives in to his friends’ pleas.

Kite: I… saw something else after being warned of the Empire…

Threep: What was it?

Kite looks around Whitetower then at his friends.

Kite: Whitetower… in ruins… burning… while a dragon looms over it…

There was a long silence as the group stares at Kite in horror.

Mal: What did you just say…?

Mal, knowing that his sister lives in the capital, grabs Kite’s collar.

Nia: Mal, what are you doing?!

Mal: What about my sister, Kite? Is she still alive in this dream of yours?

Kite doesn’t answer, uncertain of the fate of Whitetower’s inhabitants, further angering Mal.

Mal: ANSWER ME, KIT!

Tyril grabs Mal’s arm and gives him a concerned look. The rogue comes back to his senses before letting go of Kite.

Mal: I’m sorry, Kite. I don’t know what came over me… it’s just… I’ve already lost enough… I don’t wanna lose anyone else.

Kite shakes his head.

Kite: It’s okay. I understand your frustration. I think… we just need to clear our heads and plan out what we should do next.

As the rest of the group nods at what Kite said, Imtura is at the back, trying to connect the destruction of Whitetower in Kite’s dream and the destruction of Flotilla in her dream.

Nia: Imtura?

The orc is snapped back into reality as she looks at the group staring at her.

Imtura: I’m sorry, it’s just… I’m concerned for my family as well.

The group nods at what she said before Kade steps up with a suggestion.

Kade: Okay, come on. Group hug. We need to keep our spirits up in the fight ahead.

Kite smiles at his brother before placing his arm over his shoulder. The elf looks at the rest of the group.

Kite: Kade’s right. We’re all in this together.

Nia joins and places her arm around Kite. Tyril joins right after.

Nia: No matter the threat, we can handle it.

Tyril: We have done it once; we can do it again.

The four of them smile at Mal and Imtura, waiting for them to join. The rogue and orc roll their eyes before reluctantly joining the hug.

Mal: You all are hopeless optimists.

Imtura: But the same can be said for the both of us.

As the group laughs at the comment, Threep and Loola land on Kite and Nia’s shoulders, respectively.

Threep: We are all still millennia away from defeating the Empire…

Loola: But that shouldn’t stop us from saving the realm.

Kite looks at the determination present in his friends’ faces.

Kite: Let’s get this done!

Everyone: YEAH!

Suddenly, the moment was cut short by an explosion heard from a distance.

Mal: What was that?

The group turns around the corner to see smoke coming from the castle. They rush back towards it, curious and worried as to who or what caused the explosion. Upon reaching the throne room, the group spots King Arlan, surrounded by his guards, standing face-to-face against a dark figure. Nia’s heart sinks as the mysterious figure looks exactly the same as the one she saw in her vision. She begins to collapse but Kite catches her in his arms.

Kite: Nia, are you okay?

While the group helps Nia on her feet, King Arlan speaks with the dark figure.

King Arlan: Who are you?! And what business do you have against my kingdom?!

The figure unsheathes their sword and conjures five copies of it before having the swords hover around them. Tyril immediately recognizes the unique magic used by the figure.

Tyril: Impossible. How is he alive after all these years?

Mal: You know him, elf boy?

Tyril grits his teeth and unsheathes his own sword.

Tyril: He is a former member of the Shadow Court… Sir Laundsellyn, the Deserter!

The figure turns towards Tyril and grins.

Sir Laundsellyn: “Deserter”, eh? I am grateful that elven history gave me quite a title.

While Imtura and Mal join Tyril and unsheathe their weapons, Kite hands Nia to Kade.

Kite: Take care of her.

Kade: Don’t worry. Kick Laundsellyn’s ass.

The elf grins at his brother before joining the others.

Imtura: What’s this guy’s deal?

Tyril: Prior to the purification ritual two thousand years ago, all of the members of the Shadow Court were cornered and eventually banished to the Shadow Realm… All, but one.

Mal: Sir Laundry boy?

Tyril nods.

Tyril: He was tasked with hunting down the Priestess of Light and succeeded but was never heard from again when he was supposed to join the other members of the Court during the final battle of the war.

Imtura: Oh, so he’s not a “deserter”. He’s a coward!

Sir Laundsellyn scoffs.

Sir Laundsellyn: Spare me your insults. I’d known from the beginning that the Court will fail. So, I fled, avoiding my banishment. I was thinking far ahead than any of them, even the Dreadlord himself.

He starts walking towards the King.

Sir Laundsellyn: My purpose now is to serve a far greater power… the Empire of Ash…

Anger rises among the group upon hearing the mention of the Empire.

Imtura: Anything we should know about this guy, Tyril?

Tyrils shakes his head.

Tyril: No, the elven archives did not mention a lot about Laundsellyn, except only for being part of the Court and his betrayal.

Kite: I guess we’re on our own here.

Tyril: We need a distraction.

Kite smirks as he puts a hand on his waist, but Mal grips the elf’s shoulder.

Mal: Don’t. You. Dare.

(Author’s Note: Kite’s not much of a Seductive Skill combatant . 😅)

Kite chuckles.

Kite: Don’t worry. I’m not that type of fighter.

He then holds out his hand, materializing the Blade of Light in his grasp.

Kite: I’ll take him on easily.

Mal, Tyril and Imtura grin.

Mal: Oh, right. I forgot we have that now.

Tyril: An agent of the Shadows like him won’t stand a chance against your Blade.

Imtura: Go get ‘em!

Kite nods as he dashes towards Laundsellyn who turns to him.

Sir Laundsellyn: Oho? What do we have here?

Kite channels the power of the Light present within the Blade before swinging it at the former member of the Shadow Court.

Kite: This is your end!

However…

CLANG!

…Sir Laundsellyn stops the Blade with only his finger, leaving everyone in utter shock and silence.

Tyril: …T-That’s… not possible…

Kade: How?! He’s a soldier of the Shadow Court!

Laundellyn smirks and pinches the tip of the Blade.

Sir Laundsellyn: Ah, I’ve been wondering where my Blade has been all this time.

He then kicks Kite on his gut, causing him to loose grip on the Blade as he is propelled across the throne room.

Imtura: Kite!

Mal rushes to Kite’s aid while Tyril and Imtura ready themselves.

Mal: Kit, are you okay?

Kite coughs and glares at Laundsellyn.

Kite: Your Blade? What are you talking about?

Laundsellyn chuckles as he holds the Blade properly with its hilt.

Sir Laundsellyn: The Blade of Light has always been an heirloom to my House. Being a descendant of the one who wielded the power of the Light and Shadows, I cannot be harmed by the Blade.

Suddenly, something comes to Threep’s mind, as if he’s starting to remember a lost memory.

Threep: I remember now… You’re the prodigal son… of the House I once served!

Laundsellyn spots Threep behind Kite and squints his eyes.

Sir Laundsellyn: Tch! I thought I made sure you’d forgotten everything about my House, Pompedorfin.

Threep hisses at him.

Threep: Mind your tongue, traitor! You were the reason why House Nightbloom became extinct!

Upon hearing the mention of his own House, Kite’s eyes widen.

Kite: Threep, what do you mean?

Loola: Threep once told me about an heir to House Nightbloom, who is slothful, despite being skilled in almost everything. He stole their heirloom and left without a trace in pursuit of his own selfish goals.

Laundellyn sighs.

Sir Laundsellyn: Ah, yes, the nostalgia of those days...

He scoffs as the power of the Shadows surge through him.

Sir Laundsellyn: Well, if you must know… My real name… is Lucius Nightbloom.

----- END OF CHAPTER -----

[docmanda]

Either Warmth or Invisible for the monster prompts?

@fixaidea why choose one when you can do both? ^^ I have no idea if this here is what the prompt intended but this is what my brain came up with^^ so enjoy (hopefully)

read it on AO3

Invisible

Helplessly stuck in the back of Shi Qingxuan´s head, powerless to do anything but be a sympathetic voice trying to console his friend as millenia old grievances finally break their way free in front of him Xie Lian has no time to think too much about anything more then reacting to the unfolding tragedy in front of him. And yet one thought gets stuck in his head, right in between Black Water´s snarling, tear streaked face and Shi Wudu´s cold, godly countenance: That sometimes the true monster isn't the one bristling with teeth and claws but the one hiding invisible behind a facade of righteousness.

Warmth

Xie Lian nearly trips over a tree root in his haste to put distance between him and his pursuers, the sudden stumble making him gasp in reflex before he can get himself back under control, sticky air ripe with spores travelling down his throat and making him cough. Another wave of dizziness hits him and he has to catch himself against the next tree, helplessly pressing a hand against his mouth to prevent himself from breathing, his body still demanding it even though it has stopped being a necessity long ago. 

He is exhausted, it feels like it has been hours since he has gotten separated from his San Lang even though it couldn't have been more than maybe an incense stick worth of time since they had entered the wood, expecting some rogue demons or ghosts doing mischief. And they had found a small gaggle of weak ghosts hiding in between the gnarly trees, led by a single low class demon and fleeing from them the moment they saw the Devastation at his side. So they had given chase, not noticing that even though it looked like they were fleeing without any sense of direction they were in fact being led somewhere on purpose...and had fallen right into their trap. 

Xie Lian had just been able to pull his San Lang to safety by the back of his tunic, flinging him halfway across the clearing in his haste to get him away from the hidden cluster of small greyish-purple mushrooms he had spotted against the base of a tree before their smell had hit him right on. 

Everything else afterward had been a blur, the hallucinations brought on by the mushroom´ spores so vivid and substantial that even though Xie Lian knew that they weren't real he couldn't help himself and fled, sudden panic overpowering every sense of self preservation he might have had. And so he had run, followed by voices long dead, the branches of the trees turning into hands covered in blood gripping for his robes, pallid faces with blood streaked cheeks riddled with a disease that had long since been forgotten by the world hidden in every shadow, something silent and leering in white following his every step, accompanied by indulgent, warm laughter. Every time he had slowed down, his power being depleted by more than just his panicked flight, he could feel feverish hands reaching for him, probing if their prey was finally weak enough to succumb, sharp clawed fingers wrapping around his throat. So far he had always found enough strength left in him to evade them, stumbling away from the hungry shadows hiding behind every tree, slashing at them with a rusty old sword he had found by chance not too long ago while literally stumbling over it´s previous owner´s white, skeletal body.

Xie Lian is so tired that all he can do is lean heavily against a moss covered tree in relief when he can finally hear a frantic, well loved voice not too far away call his name, eyes tightly shut to keep the hallucinations out and call for him. It takes Crimson Rain Sought Flowers only seconds after that to be at his side again, warm hands cupping his face and his single black eye full of concern and worry, inspecting him for injuries before he pulls Xie Lian into a tight embrace, his voice gentle and concerned and soothing. The warmth of his embrace seeps through Xie Lian´s thin robes, feeling like fire against his sweat-soaked skin and he sobs once against a red clad chest, closing his eyes tight enough to hurt. The feeling of tears on his face as his old rusty blade stabs through muscle and bone, nailing Crimson Rain Sought Flower to the tree behind him is the first thing for hours that truly feels real.

And this is how Hua Cheng finds him: Sobbing, slumped down next to a tree, the body of a low class demon hanging from it with an old rusty blade impaled so deep into his chest that only the handle is still visible.

“Gege!”

Xie Lian´s eyes shoot open but before Hua Cheng can fully close the gap between them to hug him he is up like a flash, pulling the sword from the tree with a last burst of strength, it's tip wavering haphazardly against the Devastation´s throat and keeping him at a distance.

“Stop, right where you are.” 

Xie Lian´s voice is barely audible, tinged with exhaustion and horror and longing so thick it makes Hua Cheng´s dead heart hurt in sympathy, the urge to just push away the sword and just gather him in his arms nearly unbearable. It would be no problem at all to simply overpower Xie Lian at this point, he is barely able to stand, and to grab him and take him home and have him safe...but he seems afraid of him and so Hua Cheng stands unmoving, his insides twisting in pain at the look of fear in his Beloved's eyes.

“..give me your hand.”

Hua Cheng does not question the order, slowly raising his hand to present it to Xie Lian, palm up, the red string tied around his middle finger vivid in the gloomy forest light. Xie Lian carefully shifts his stance so he can reach, the tip of his sword never once leaving Hua Cheng´s throat. His fingers feel feverish against the ghost's cold skin, sticky with sap and blood, his icy fingers curling around Xie Lian´s warm ones before he can help himself. But just as he is about to withdraw and apologize Xie Lian´s reluctant grip turns into a vice, his shoulders dropping at the same time as his sword does, something between a sob and a laugh escaping his lips as he janks Hua Cheng close in one rough motion, molding himself against him so tight as if he wants to climb right into his Devastation´s skin. Hua Cheng´s arms instinctively come up to hold him close, his God´s sweat-soaked, burning body shivering against the iciness of his own,dropping cool butterfly kisses onto Xie Lian´s dirty hair while he tries to soothe him before he calls for his butterflies to take them home.

Later, after his Beloved has been cleaned and comforted and lulled to sleep by gentle hands and medicine to help him get rid of the last lingering effects of the spores he will come back here and burn this place to the ground until nothing remains but charcoal and soil turned to glass. And Xie Lian will wake to the scent of smoke and white flowers, hold tightly against the cold body of the man he loves.

[xcwbrghz-blog]

Fire burns deep below our routine in the abyss of subliminal shades freedom is a manic breeze of need a stench of false light unity

Underneath of this broken monolith lies well organized chain of command where archetypal justice is served where the handle of power is open

Cold blames of dis-improvement at the altar of decaying universe eyes closed on shattered platform exiled hatred towards all shapes

Mist within i am bound to master spirit like disease i spread the deepening way no matter of praise or prayer we invoke the emptiness to dim the cosmos

Morbid obsession of unearthly realms progression towards the True Name silent emptiness as origin of whole tearing the structures of enslaved soul

Touched by laments of forbidden ones buried away from our receiving receptors i have grown into an opening as if i would have chosen myself

When the prognosis turns into will which runs from the void into matter there lies your forsaken skill holy darkness in scattered selves

Against the celestial made synopsis within every step in road of ash i hear the hauling of restless souls no time will overwrite our fault

Saturate the confirmation bias insights against the limit of psychotic chaos which is the die of impossibilities rising as it rolls quietly behind every decision

Open the monologue with thyself as godhood initiate spirits to participate the circle due time you will learn to suffocate the external world from your thoughts completely

As the pyramid grows with conversations these thoughts begin to come self aware no matter how much it takes from you this system will now inhabit your soul

Exalted vision may now rise from the depths as you give permission to these thoughts to live share your vessel with these abandoned deities supernal synthesis without any limitation

Saturate the social deprivation insights against the limit of total destruction which is the urge of possibilities rising as it grows exponentially in every disappointment

When the pyramid is built upon nothingness there is no cure for that sickness to wield it no matter how much it will give to you this system will now intertwine your soul

All litanies of pure black realizations will enhance your clarity of parallel realms this cannot be undone once the mind has opened conversation will continue through eons of space

Now it is done what you were secretly looking for metaphors unravel and mysteries get solved you will learn to love the black hole you are becoming a quasar in the light of Morningstar

Vivid ever-grey skies above soil poison runs trough veins of betrayal stampede of clones in frenzy of sun winter has return from the oblivion

Doors nailed shut aside from great work sacrifice of fertile train of thoughts more aware than is allowed in this place mold into murky arts behind the gates

Seer and listener in our own worship guilt and sorrow as pushing pressure in timeless machinery of symptoms fallen from the hand of poltergeist

So soon it becomes irresistible presence strengthen at eve of nights buried in these aehtyric changes we practice ourselves off lies

Mandatory rituals of silencing whole only creative and altering goals inside our vessel the occult content breathes absolution and subjective deeds

Equilibrium is at winter solstice where fires paint the picture so old there lies the only surrendering dark creates light for those after it

Maturing fluid non-linear patterns fulfill the utmost need to personalize as we are only splinters of void who have came to be sentenced in the fallout

Rest may come for those who understand without corruption of the higher self seer and listener in our own worship guilt and sorrow as pushing pressure

Tunnel in total denial of consensus radiant exception in preset existence immanent control of overall perception firey milestone pointing to every direction

When hearts of man emit the black light into realm of dogmatic greed and vice the creation of plastic paradise will be treated like pest and parasite

When ocean floods over earth and man all the frivolous tissue will wane altar of concept of solid emptiness takes place in marriage between life and death

For so long there has not been an aim for peeling the filth off the scales altruistic versus sanctimonious your duality is due to times you fail

For so long there has not been an aim for peeling off the sickness of mankind eradicate all prisons of hope so that the milestone of beyond will rise

Now it crushes the veil completely out of sight and the delusions will become reality in this process the alien will come our only purpose and only constancy

As it proceeds into deeper roots of worlds our whole being is torn into chasm between the opposites in individual mind emptiness and matter will fuse together

Luciferse will abate and void the abomination this faulty feces we have made for ourselves triumph of mind over matter is completion brink for the dogma to dissolve

Rings of the central moon of none-verse before actualizing any form of being this cold hell awaits as womb of shadows therein meditates the master of existence

I would not open your hatred towards me scintillating excellence enlighten me this sacred initiation creates abundance unlike flickering visions of consciousness

Nothing is perfect in unison or harmony it is the inertia of living things everything i haul is towards deepening as a messenger of ethereal forces

Trance of unfamiliar occurrences holds same trajectories as mankind the nuisance of paradox in nature before we gain much higher plane of life

Now the triumph is anchored in unknown our lives compete against the life itself none will stand in this flesh for long we are apprentices of cosmic throne

Now the triumph is anchored in unknown our lives compete against the life itself none will stand in this flesh for long we are apprentices of cosmic throne

The central moon is not of this horizon but implosion of widely opened wisdom a communion between the ancient masters and the living force of beings in form

I shed my woe off the parasite of temple we all know we are here for a reason put the rings around your icy fingers and the solution is no longer your treason

Irrational survival through the aethyrs Into the black galaxy of True Name where no boundaries cannot pillage against your full potential and spirit

Wherein this illusion of separate frequencies have no power over the drone of unity our majestic Hivemind Beholder will cut down all chains to misery

Life is long gone replaced by immatter our beloved void gives nourishment of soul to be one with this darkness of whole is the only absolute subjective matter

Farewell and begone my life as i mold into nothingness beyond space and time with joy i accept this hell as if i would have chosen myself