#hybrid cloud environments

[loriijone]

Why Modern Businesses Rely on Integration Platform as a Service IPAAS for Seamless Connectivity

In today’s rapidly evolving digital landscape, businesses operate on a growing ecosystem of applications. From CRM software to ERP systems and marketing automation tools, companies rely on a suite of platforms to stay competitive. But the challenge lies in connecting these tools effectively. This is where an Integration Platform as a Service IPAAS becomes indispensable.

What Is iPaaS? iPaaS is a cloud-based integration solution that enables businesses to connect various applications, systems, and data sources—whether on-premises or in the cloud. With real-time data synchronization and automated workflows, it simplifies integration and enhances operational efficiency.

Benefits of iPaaS Using an iPaaS platform means no more juggling multiple APIs or spending months on manual integrations. These platforms offer:

Cloud-based integration for increased accessibility

Real-time data sync between systems like CRM, ERP, and CMS

Scalability for growing business needs

API management for seamless third-party integration

Use Cases for iPaaS Imagine a retail business using Shopify for e-commerce, Salesforce for CRM, and QuickBooks for accounting. Without integration, syncing customer orders and financials is a nightmare. But with an Integration Platform as a Service IPAAS, all these platforms can talk to each other in real-time.

The Road to Digital Transformation Adopting iPaaS is not just a tech upgrade—it’s a strategic move. It empowers teams with centralized data, reduces errors, and shortens time-to-market for digital products.

For businesses aiming to scale efficiently and embrace digital transformation, an Integration Platform as a Service IPAAS is the backbone of successful operations.

[quadrant123]

The two next major developments in the technological environment are hybrid cloud and AI.

“The main task for organizations is to be able to change and adapt faster than the world around them

Gero Decker

CO-FOUNDER & CEO, SIGNAVIO

“The mid-term technological innovation to fight climate change will be at the forefront of investments. The pressure building from socio-political organizations has turned investment in

fighting climate change from being a nice-to-have or reputation-enhancing activity to a must-have for growing business soon.

In the near future, software-based automation of all kinds will be a major driver in 2022 and beyond. With the commencement of the worldwide COVID-19 epidemic, it enables you to accommodate to the new engagement modes sought by clients. More significantly, it tackles the tremendous labor shortage we are now experiencing. Consider removing items off a truck; it is becoming increasingly difficult to find personnel qualified for such occupations.

The drivers and disruptors of technological innovation 

Mid-term technology innovation to combat climate change will be prioritized in terms of funding. The increasing pressure from socio-political groups has transformed investment in combating climate change from a nice-to-have or reputation-enhancing activity into a must-have for developing businesses in the near future.

Adoption of innovative technology at a rapid pace in order to remain relevant and competitive  

The major challenge for enterprises is to alter and adapt quicker than the rest of the world. Finance and sales have grown as disciplines over the last few decades, thanks to technology manifestations such as ERP and CRM. Similarly, change and transformation are becoming essential capabilities for all organizations. It is increasing the demand for business transformation platforms to support technology in order to enable quick expansion. 

The drivers and disruptors of technological innovation 

Mid-term technology innovation to combat climate change will be prioritized in terms of funding. The increasing pressure from socio-political groups has transformed investment in combating climate change from a nice-to-have or reputation-enhancing activity into a must-have for developing businesses in the near future.

[placeinthemiddleofnowhere]

Reign down on me - Part 6

Pairing: Ghost x Hybrid!reader (eventual poly!141)

No use of y/n or mention of gender/race

Summary: Reader is a wolf hybrid in a world that treats them like second class citizens, given a horrible start in life after being thrown into the military with no preparation. After years of struggle, they're finally taken away from their base by Ghost, now a permanent member of taskforce 141 reader struggles to come to terms with the fact that perhaps there's a life there for them - if only they reach out and accept it.

Warnings: hurt/comfort, Angst, abuse mentions, self doubt, violent scenes

A/N: Hi, helooooo! Sorry for the long update times, my life has been super hectic. So this chapter didn't go where I thought it would end up going, so there's some things I think I said I was gonna explore that will be in the next chapter instead. However I hope you enjoy this one 💕 thanks for waiting

-🐺-

There was a quiet hum pulsing through the room, the buzz of everyone around you tending to their own conversations and hoppy drinks which allowed you to relax and attempt to tune out the busy environment. After another successful mission, the 141 wanted to unwind- which apparently meant going to the pub for drinks, darts and, according to them, mediocre grub. Although after dining fine on MRE’s for the majority of your life, you had to disagree. That sausage and mash was the some of the best you’d tried. 

Ghost had forced you to change into some civvies before you’d left, which meant doing another embarrassing repeat of the shopping experience hed’d taken you out on. You still weren’t convinced you were able to put together a good outfit, fussing and trying a few different combinations of things, but once Ghost had looked you up and down and given you a nod of approval you’d relaxed.

When you’d all gotten to the pub and you’d seen that less people stared at you while in your new attire, you were soon thankful for the change. A hybrid in military gear drew attention, it probably made people think the area was being worked, but a casually dressed and collared hybrid was apparently nothing to get too concerned about. Huh.

Once you’d pressed yourself to the back of the booth, you barely worried about being out in public anymore. The world was the confines of the table, the edge of it stretching no further than your now trusted teammates. That became all the more true after you were offered a drink and then another and another. Once the buzz had started, the last of your lingering anxieties around being out floated to the back of your mind and disappeared like smoke. None of the other patrons were even a blip in the back of your fuzzy little head. 

“So Pup, what’d you reckon?” Gaz asked, spinning his pint glass around in his hand. “‘Nother drink?”

How many were you actually allowed, you wondered, you’d already had a few. When you turned to Ghost to try and gauge your answer, he was too busy talking in hushed tones to Soap, so instead you employed your backup. Price smiled wryly the second you clocked eyes with him across the table. 

“Like most things, Pup, this ain’t a test,” Price chuckled. “You know your own tolerance don’t you?”

“You think I’ve done a lot of drinking before?” You asked back, innocently dodging his question.

You twiddled with your own glass, rolling it between your palms and watching the dregs inside twirl. Bubbles of the beer still continued to fizzle across your palette even as you watched it dance below you. The hypnotic show only served to further make you aware of the hazy sheen across your eyes, and you were sure that if you stood up you’d probably feel like you were walking on foamy clouds. 

You’d have to be careful. Wouldn’t do to overindulge, you tried to remind yourself. Though that voice was quiet compared to the euphoric beast in you that cried out for more, that wanted to keep going until you forgot about every sordid thought in your head as easily as you forgot about how uncomfortable crowds made you. 

“Well you sunk those pretty quickly,” Gaz said, motioning his glass toward you.

“Not to mention Branhaven has one of the highest rates of contraband seizure for a UK base,” Price noted, finishing the last of his drink. “Reckon you’ve probably indulged a time or two, no?”

You couldn’t conceal your smile. Though your ears soon pinned to your head, realising that the implication that you were engaging in illegal behaviour was floated out wide in the open. It was true, hybrids would often do chores or other kinds of favours for human soldiers in exchange for goods, which often meant working for booze or cigarettes or stronger stuff on occasion. You’d been more than happy to help with boot polishing and patch sewing on an occasion or two. Some nights it helped with the pain, on others it just kept you from going mad.

“Don’t worry, we won’t tell anyone your secrets,” Gaz winked. “I’ll go get us another round.”

You bit your lip and nodded, watching as he made his way over to the busy bar, casually floating around a group of men before seizing an opportunity to break through to the oderous wood top. Once at the counter, he folded his arms over it and leaned his body out ever so slightly, his hips angling back toward the table. 

It was hard to tell if it was entirely the drink, but as you watched him, you found yourself really looking what you saw. Gaz was a well built man, lean and proportioned well, but it was his face that your eyes were stuck on. He looked good that night, his smiles came easy, the full ones that showed his fang-like teeth. They glinted in the soft light when he turned around to say something to the man next to him, shining like pearls. His shoulders were relaxed, back untensed, his body shook with laughter when the other man made a joke. 

Truth be told you couldn’t be sure how long you stared after him, but it was safe to say your roving eyes didn’t go unnoticed. 

“See somethin’ you like over there?” Price asked, jerking his head back to the Sergeant. 

You blinked slowly. Your head felt like it was rushing with syrup, getting flustered but too tipsy to respond with anything smart.

“What?” 

“You’re lookin’ awfully hard is all,” he shrugged. 

The room felt like it heated a few degrees. In an effort to not meet that crinkly eyed grin of your captain, your gaze floated along the arm hed slung over the back of Gaz's chair. However, that only gave you more problems. You immediately imagined him slinging that arm over you, holding you close and sharing his heady body heat. Smelling his scent, bathing him in yours.  

It’s happening again! 

Your ears perked up like lightning rods when you realised that some baser part of your nature was taking over yet another time that week. The feral little creature that usually kicked around somewhere in your hindbrain was clawing its way to the forefront. Now you were practically panting after half your team. You needed to get a hold of yourself, you reasoned,  surely you weren’t going to give into whatever random desires you were getting for closeness. Stupid Pack bond - or whatever it was that Ghost had chalked it up to. 

“I, uh- there’s pool over there,” you shrugged lamely, gesturing to the tables just off to Gaz’s right. 

Someone managed to pot a ball not long after you’d said it. Your ears tilted toward the sound, then swivelled again when you heard Gaz’s familiar huffs and puffs of effort. He was now stepping toward you with a trayful of glasses, clenching his teeth whenever he came close to spilling or bumping into someone, walking ever slower with the wobbling glasses as he realised how precariously they were balanced. His muscles bulged a little with the effort. 

Price caught your stupid staring again, but he didn’t say anything about it this time. His eyes just narrowed knowingly at you, not with accusation but with concealed humour. You could tell by the subtle pull of his lip. 

“Gazzy. You up for a game?” Price barked.

“Depends, what are we playing?” Gaz asked, raising a brow as he snatched his pint.

He took a sip of it, coating his upper lip in a little sheen of foam. He licked it off in short order. 

“The wolf wants to play pool,” Price said. 

Price once again interrupted your brain fog from taking over. Knowing full well that he would be wearing that same stupid ‘I know what you’re thinking’ look on his face, you looked up at Gaz and reached out for your own drink. That one had to be your last before - god forbid - you were left drooling over anyone else. 

“Oh yeah? You a secret pool master?” Gaz asked. 

“Oh…no,” you clarified, awkwardly swallowing a gulp of beer. “I’ve watched it being played enough times though. I always wanted to try it.” 

You’d never actually been that bothered about it, you preferred to blend in rather than get caught in competition, especially when it came to games with humans. However as far as any of them were concerned, it was your life’s dream. Anything, as long as it stopped anyone from thinking that you were obsessed with your teammate. 

“You wanna pair up with me then? Reckon you should be on the winning team for your first game.”

“Pfft, winning team? Sure that’s with you, son?” Price scoffed.

“Beat you last time didn’t I, old man?”

“Fuck off.”

Price took a dramatic gulp of his beer then loudly pushed off from the booth, marching toward the pool table as if it were a mission objective. You laughed noiselessly to yourself, but soon had to stop yourself from choking on your own drink when the little demon inside you commented on how nice his big broad shoulders were, perfect for holding you close.

How were you going to survive the night?  

You looked back over at Ghost to try and regain some sense of composure only to see that Soap was shuffling along the bench to leave and your handler was about to follow him. Giving him a slight head tilt in question, you wondered where they were going. To which, Ghost answered by pulling you in close, wrapping his arm around you and leaving you practically choking on his forearm for a second, before he released you with a messy pat on the head.

“We’re goin’ for a smoke,” he chuckled, watching your annoyed glare with amusement while you fixed your hair. “Be good while I’m gone.”

The smile lines broke out under his eyes, and for a ditzy second all you could do was stare. All thoughts of telling him off left your mind, instead you were stuck looking above his face mask, drinking in the glittering pools of his irises and the blush tinged tops of his cheeks. Your tail wagged traitorously when he continued to stare back.

“What?” he huffed, smile still not leaving his eyes.

Your entire body flamed at being caught this time. 

“Nothing,” you shrugged, shrinking back into the chair.

You hoped that the chair would swallow you. 

“Silly thing.”

Ghost gave you a scratch behind the ears then finally slid off to join Soap. However, you weren’t left alone to your own self-deprecating thoughts. Gaz was watching you, his lips curving in amusement. He started to twirl his glass again, spinning it around on it’s axis. 

“So how do you like being with the 141 so far then?” 

The question caught you off guard, but you had to admit it was a welcome distraction. You unpinned your ears from your shameful, burning head and relaxed once more. 

“I like it,” you said simply. 

“Oh yeah? How’s staying with Ghost?”

“Oh uh, Ghost is nice. It’s been cool having my own room,” you said, smiling as you thought about your big comfy bed. “He’s been really good to me.”

Gaz snorted out a laugh before he could stop himself. 

“What?” You glared. “What’s so funny?”

“Nice isn’t the first word I’d use to describe Ghost, but….” He shrugged. 

“Ghost is nice though,” you frowned, body growing tense at the hint of any accusations of the contrary. 

“Sure, when he’s not telling awful jokes or burning holes into your head with that stare he has,” Gaz laughed, outstretching his hands and wiggling his fingers. “I’m from Manchester and I’m gonna steal your soul with me spooky eyes.” 

You giggled at his terrible impression, back unfurling from its defensive hunch, then hit his hands away playfully. Normally you would’ve worried about the repercussions of doing something like that to a superior, but the drink was still buzzing through your head and if that weren’t enough Gaz’s smile shone brightly back at you. 

“Ghost isn’t spooky,” you affirmed.

“Seriously? Next you’ll tell me that you don’t live in a big haunted castle together.”

“We don’t!” You laughed.

“I bet it has skeleton decorations everywhere. Skull pillows and skeleton paintings, table and chair legs shaped into bones.”

“No!”

“Really? Damn, the man isn’t as predictable as I thought…but honestly tell me. Does he have little skeleton jammies? You can’t seriously tell me that he doesn’t keep the skull look going when he gets home. He probably sits and watches Netflix with his skull top and bottoms and skeleton cuddly toy and skeleton sockies. No? Genuinely?”

You only continued to laugh and shake your head, denying his silly accusations. Gaz smiled back at you, shifting his eyes over you as if he were cataloguing every sign of your delight. 

“Oi, time for hilarities is over,” Price said, appearing through the parting crowds. “get ready to get your arses handed to ya. I got us a table”

“You sound awfully confident, Captain,” Gaz said, scraping his chair across the rough floors. 

“Because I’m not drunk this time.”

“Don’t need you to be drunk to beat you. Got Pup on my team, we can’t lose.”

-🐺-

“Maybe I should sit this one out,” you murmured, flinching as the cue white ball barely even tapped the yellow ball that you were trying to hit. 

Your ears pinned low to your head and your temperature grew as you looked up and down the table and failed to see how you were going to pot even a single ball at the rate you were going. When you’d watched the game being played in the past, you’d assumed it was easy, but apparently the human soldiers were just skilled at it.

Your failure was made all the worse by the fact that Gaz and Price had very dutifully stood and explained the rules and how to use the pool cue when the game had begun. In fact Price had been so thorough on his explanation it prompted Gaz to assert once again that you were going to beat his arse easy. However…

You had taken two attempts and in that time had only nudged that mockingly cheerful yellow ball once. The first attempt where you almost missed even hitting the cue ball altogether didn’t bear thinking about. Meanwhile Price had already potted four. You chewed your lip, hoping Gaz wouldn’t be too annoyed that his tutoring was apparently falling on deaf ears.

“Aw, don’t worry Pup. You’ll get it,” Price chuckled.

“Yeah, don’t sweat it. It’s your first game!” Gaz reassured

He leaned over then and zeroed in on a striped orange ball, setting his cue across the back of his roughened hand and sawing it back and forth like a wary snake. He’d taken off his brown trucker jacket at the beginning of the match, so now his arms were out in full display, practically suffocating inside the short sleeves he wore and bursting to get out. Your eyes grazed along the cue and danced between the thick hairs on the backs of his forearms and up to his biceps, mesmerised by the shifting muscle. 

You missed seeing him finally hit the cue ball, but your ears twitched at the sound and your heart sunk when you both saw and heard the resulting ‘plonk’ of the orange stripe rolling merrily into its pocket. You were so screwed. 

“Gonna hold back on making eyesight jokes now, Garrick?” Price questioned, already lining up his next shot.

“Only if you manage to get that blue,” Gaz winked, pointing to a ball that sat nowhere near the cueball. 

“Easy, I’ll just hit the ball off the side, let it bank left and then it’ll roll into the pocket,” he grinned.

“Oh yeah, easy,” Gaz scoffed, nudging you with his shoulder. “Watch this, Pup. Captain’s about to embarrass ‘imself.” 

“Oi. Keep your shit opinions to yourself!”

Gaz rolled his eyes, but nevertheless the two of you watched in concentrated silence as Price actually started to line up the shot he called. After a few tense seconds of watching him adjust and readjust once more he took a breath then whacked the ball with all the force of a train going through a brick wall. The white ball smacked into the fuzzy green side then banked just shy of the blue striped ball, rolling furiously into the pocket straight after. It landed with a heavy thunk to boot. 

“Fuck me,” Price muttered to himself, immediately grabbing for his beer straight after.

“Wahey! Look at that Pup, we’ve got two shots,” Gaz said, heavily patting your shoulder. “We’ve got this.”

“Yeah,” you laughed weakly, handing him the cue. “You got this.”

“Woah woah woah,” Gaz said, tilting his head dramatically. “We’re a team, we got this.”

“Well it is your shot.”

“Nah, I don’t think so.”

He shoved the pool cue back into your hands, but he didn’t step away from you after. He pressed you insistently toward the table and caged his arms between yours, taking your hands with his and adjusting them up the smooth wood. You shivered at the feeling of his warm breath tickling at your neck and teasing through your hair. You stiffened up like drying clay when he moulded himself closer into you.

“Don’t freeze up like that, you’re not under attack. Look, I’m gonna show you how to hold it properly and that way you’ll get a good hit alright?” 

You chanced a look back at him and caught a look into those molten honey eyes, knowing full well you were a goner. You’d just have to go with whatever he said. After giving him a gentle little nod, you swallowed the lump in your throat and turned back toward the table, allowing him to slowly arrange your body so that you were in the supposed perfect stance.

His hands were silk, gliding delicately across your arms so that you would place yourself how he wanted. You had to hold yourself back from shivering every time his touch came. Once you were standing how he wanted, he took to laughing and tutting at you until you got your finger into the correct position to support the cue, and only when that was Gaz certified did he allow you to start readying your shot. 

“Ok, take it away, Pup. You got this!”

After a couple of practice slides, you drew the cue back one final time, holding your breath as you prepared to send it flying forward and into the purple ball that Gaz had lined up for you. You finally took your shot, watching with wide eyes as the cueball barrelled forward and shunted straight into the purple, sending it toward the pocket while it landed neatly beside a couple more of your balls, ready for the next shot. As soon as the purple landed fully down, you were jumping up in an instant.

“I hit it! I hit it and scored a point,” you said, full smile beaming as you turned to Gaz. “Did you see how fast it went? I wanna do that again!”

Gaz’s sharp canines were on full display again. His eyes travelled low down on your body and he chuckled, and only when you followed his eyeline did you see that your tail was furiously wagging up a storm behind you. It wafted up a big draft of air, blowing gusts through the old newspapers that were piled on the low table behind you.

“I saw. You did good,” Gaz praised, laughing while rubbing the little spot on your cheek that he always did.

“Yes, Pup - very good,” Price added dryly, shaking his head while taking another swig of his drink. 

With that the newspapers behind you turned from almost the front pages, toward the nonsense stories at the back.

“What’s got you so excited, fuzzy lugs?” 

You turned and saw Soap leaning over the end of the table, slowly swirling his whisky while he assessed the game. His blue eyes rolled from one end and to the other then settled on you, pinning you in place for a moment until you’d realised that he’d asked you a question. You bit your lip and shrugged, trying to downplay yourself a little as you remembered that your victory was being celebrated a little too early. 

“I potted a ball,” you shrugged, trying to hide your mellowed tone with a drink. 

“Oh did ye, aye? You’ll have to do it again for me and Ghost,” he grinned. 

Soap motioned his head to the left, pointing toward Ghost who was taking his time wandering back to Soap’s side. You could smell the cigarette smoke cloying to him as he walked by. It made your nose wrinkle. Though you soon forgot all about it when he shot you a wink.

“Gonna show us your new skills?” He asked. 

Now everyone was watching you. No pressure. 

You gulped and made your way back to the table side, using your cue like a walking stick. Poking your tongue out, you stood for a second and swayed a little on your unsteady tipsy feet, thinking through your next move. Your eyes roved over the balls, moving between the two most likely candidates until you settled on the green. 

After looking up and confirming everyone was still staring, you shuddered. However Gaz gave you an encouraging smile, which spurred you on all the more. A few awkward seconds passed while you tried to reform yourself into the same position Gaz put you in before. Even in your drunken state you still recalled most of the ways he’d shown that you were supposed to position yourself, all the while keeping your hands further up the stick so that you could hit harder and keeping your finger ridgid against it. 

You slid it back and forth, once, then another two times and finally you made your move. The cue thwacked into the cueball and sent it rocketing into the green, sending the green ball rolling forward and flying toward the left side pocket. The ball began to lose its momentum just toward the end, it slowed just a little more and then a little more and just when your ears started to collapse downward in disappointment, it managed to creep into the pocket at the last second. 

“Holy shit I did it! I did it all by myself!” You squealed, perking back up again and grinning like an idiot. 

You turned, making sure everyone had seen it, but before you could take stock everyone you were surrounded by two massive chests. The pressure came quickly crushing you up like a scrapped car. Though you didn’t mind, when your panicked mind realised they were hugging you, you settled into it and wagged your tail. 

“That’s my good Pup,” Ghost crooned, his voice even more gravelly than usual. 

“You did so good!” Gaz whooped.

They both parted from you and just when you’d adjusted to having full lung capacity again, Soap all but whacked all the air from you with a couple of big pats on the back. 

“Well done, furball,” he said lowly, throwing you a sly smile. “Knew you had it in ya. You’re my wee pack mate after all, aren’t ya?”

Your tail wagged even harder at that. 

“Yes, very good,” Price barked, smiling despite the faux stern expression he tried to hold. “You taking your next turn or not, Pup?”

“I get another one?” You gawped, looking at the last few balls in awe. 

“You get one every time you pot. And if you don’t get on with your next one I’m confiscating it from you.”

“Don’t think that’s in the rules, old man,” Gaz laughed. 

“Gotta give myself a chance here, Garrick. You two have bloody hustled me,” Price retorted.

“Oh you think you’re hustled now? Just wait for this next turn.”

-🐺-

You helped Gaz win that game in the end, and as a reward he insisted on carrying you to the taxi on his back. Well, that’s what he intended anyway. He stumbled just as he got out the pub door and collapsed in a fit of drunken laughter. At that point Ghost took over and hoisted you up on his shoulder, carrying you like a sack of potatoes. 

Had you been in any state to complain you might’ve, however you were still riding on a winning high and your head was full of bubbles and fizz. No matter how hard you tried to stop it, your tail continued to sloppily wag even while Ghost carried you, and for the rest of the night he complained about having fur in his mouth. Normally something like that would worry you, thinking you’d annoyed him, but you’d been so carefree you fell asleep on him once he’d lugged you to the sofa. 

You’d woken the next morning stretched out fully over a sleeping Ghost and Soap, jumping up in mortification when you realised what you’d done and running to your bed for what felt like an extra five minutes of sleep. Then as a grand result of your wild night out (compared to anything else you’d ever done), you were exhausted the whole next day. So much so that you’d been flagging through a lot of your exercises, but luckily Ghost went easy and structured training so that you got more breaks and got easier tasks to complete. Whether that was more for you or him, you couldn’t really decide. 

“Sleepy Pup,” Ghost chuckled, rubbing your cheek with the back of his greasy hand. “We’ll get an early night tonight, huh?”

You hummed in response. The sound of him cleaning his rifle had been relaxing, the cloth fibres smoothly running along the barrel while you leaned against his leg and caught up on a little napping. Normally he would send you off to do something while he did upkeep, but given your low energy he was quite happy to have you rest with him while he worked. 

“Alright then, Pup. Time to head off home,” Ghost grunted, giving your shoulder a gentle shake. “We just gotta swing by Price’s office first.” 

“Ok,” you said through a yawn.

Your tail crooked off to the side more than usual, and you could feel the fur on your ears sticking up like an animal that had just emerged from hibernation. Had there been a mirror around, you knew you’d be jumping back from it,though luckily that wasn’t the case. Instead you followed listlessly along after Ghost, plodding through the hallways like a mindless golem after its master. 

“You ok to wait out here?”

It had barely even registered that you’d reached Price’s door. However when your mind came too, you were out in the dingy hallway that proceeded his room. The two of you standing by the chipped paint patch that looked suspiciously like someone had slammed a chunk out of the wall. You slowly nodded when you finally caught up, the joint in your neck rolling as if automated.

“Try not to fall asleep out here. I’m not carrying you again,” he chuckled. “You need anything, just knock.” 

You nodded again and watched him quietly open the door and click it shut. He left you alone in the corridor, staring bleary eyed at the flickering light, absentmindedly falling back against the wall and counting out the seconds between its full beam and little strobe dance. Without fail it would flicker every five to seven seconds. 

Footsteps marched down the hallway in the distance, and your ears twitched to their rhythm. The boots slapped against the floors at a quick pace, and slowly muffled voices echoed from out of obscurity and rang through your ears. The two men became clearer by the second, and before long they were crossing your path, just about to walk past you until one of them caught eyes with you and halted as if stopped by an invisible force.

“Care to explain what you’re doing leaning around like that, hybrid?” he growled.

You frowned at him. The man had dark hair closely cropped to his head, save for a small combed over patch on the top and big bushy eyebrows that fell heavy over his dark eyes. His friend meanwhile was almost completely bald, but had a striking scar across his cheek and a birthmark on his neck. Both of them seemed young, though not young enough that they were too fresh to think about messing with you apparently.

“I’m waiting for my handler to finish his meeting with Captain Price,” you said evenly, figuring it was easiest just to answer him. 

He didn’t look satisfied with your answer though, his eyes lit up in challenge and his jaw twinged as if biting through bone. All traces of tiredness left you in that instant. Whatever was about to happen couldn’t be good, you were experienced enough to know that much.

“What was that?” the man said, tilting his head for emphasis.

His friend raised his brows, looking between the two with a vexed expression. He musn’t have been as familiar with hybrids, you thought dully, glancing at him while still keeping yourself focused on the combover man. If only one of them was going to be aggressive then defending yourself from whatever they were going to do would be easier.

“I said that I’m waiting for my handler,” you ground out, stiffening your posture.

“Waiting for your handler, sir,” the man corrected, his thick eyebrows casting a dark shadow over his eyes. “You have to show respect to your superior officers.”

You said nothing in response, only nodding your head once and gritting your teeth. Technically that was true, but given Ghost was a Lieutenant that meant that you likely outranked them (given that you were automatically ranked the same as your handler as a hybrid). Those assholes could kick rocks as far as you were concerned, you’d earned your right to speak on their level.

“Do you want a last chance to fix your attitude, hybrid?” he asked, tensing his arms as he leered over you.

His shadow flickered in the wavering light and you couldn’t help but think of him as a demon. His friend put a hand on his back and urged him to ‘just forget about it’, but still the man didn’t budge. He continued to loom over you and stare expectantly, though as far as you were concerned he could wait forever. 

He didn’t though. The little shit, took your silence as insolence, and just when he was about to reach out and grab you, you strafed back from him and growled. The sound had the other man widening his eyes, but your main attacker only glared. It spurred him to come for you once again, but again he missed you and then failed to grab you another time after that.

“Get the fuck over here, you little-”

He reached out again to grab you, and finally he’d succeeded, clenching his hand painfully around your arm. However you weren’t going to let him manhandle you like that. You barked out a fearsome roar of defiance and dug your nails, more like claws, into the thick uncovered flesh of his arm and yanked it backward while spinning away from his grip. The yowl of pain he let out interrupted his sentence and sent his friend into a panic trying to drag the man back.

“What the fuck is going on out here?”

The shout echoed out across the concrete walls and all at once you all ceased your rebuttals. Your teeth stayed bared and you continued to pant, staring down the hallway as if possessed by a vengeful force. Meanwhile the two men looked fearfully over at the source of the voice, paling noticeably when they were forced to reckon with your fearsome handler. 

Your attacker gulped, loud enough that your sensitive ears picked up on it and swivelled in his direction. He flinched at the movement, but soon straightened up. The pitiful man held out his arm and set his face in a grim expression, using his other hand to motion down at the bleeding claw marks.

“This hybrid attacked me, sir,” the man said, voice far more subdued than it had been before.

Ghost raised his eyebrow from behind his mask and looked over at you. Once he’d finally assessed the state you were in, he put his body in between the two of you and set to work calming you down. He took your collar in his hand and directed you to look at him, smoothing his hand down your back and blocking your view of the perceived hostile. After which, he took to gently shushing your panting and making calming noises.

“Can you tell me what happened?” He asked after a few moments, smoothing his hands over your ruffled hair.

“Well, what happened was-” the man’s friend began. 

“Wasn’t fucking talking to you,” Ghost growled, not even sparing a look back.

Your mouth twitched into a smile, but Ghost didn’t indulge it. He set his eyes on you with a serious frown and forced a sigh from your lips. Part of you had thought that Ghost might be on your side, but now a little voice in the back of your mind was trying to scream past a crumbling barrier - it told you that maybe Ghost was going to give up on his gentle handler act. It would make sense, you thought, you were a bad soldier, you didn’t deserve the nice treatment to begin with. 

“I was waiting for you and then…I was asked what I was doing and then, when I explained myself, I was told I wasn’t being respectful enough. He tried to grab me and I fought him off,” you said awkwardly, not wanting to meet his eyes any longer. 

“Sir, that hybrid was leaning around - not even waiting at attention and when I tried to address their behaviour, I was given nothing but bad attitude back. I was trying to correct it’s bad behaviour when it saw fit to scratch me up like a fucking feral cat!” The man fumed.

“Correct their behaviour?” Ghost asked, turning to man finally. “How were you going to correct my hybrid’s behaviour exactly?” 

Your heart dropped into your belly. Every instinct within you screamed out that you were about to meet Ghost’s iron fist at last. You were going to experience a lashing at the very least and at worst, he might take everything you had come to care about away from you. Hot salty tears brimmed on top of your cheeks, finally overflowing at the thought that Ghost might’ve only given you all those things so that it would hurt more having them taken away again. 

You made sure to sob quietly, sniffling softly  into your hand so that you wouldn’t antagonise Ghost any further. Tears won’t get you anywhere in the army, mutt, Maddox’s voice chirped in the back of your mind. You almost missed the man’s pathetic whimpering answer.

“Well…I was going to give it a slap, sir. Strike some sense into it.” 

“I see,” Ghost replied, wide back still obscuring the man from you.

You doubted you’d make anything out past your tears anyway. In your mind everything was in the process of being ripped out of your life again, the team were going to look at you like the disappointment you knew you were, your things were going to be scrapped and stripped down to bare essentials once more and you’d never get to feel Simon the cuddlytoy’s soft fur ever again. However you were ripped out of your little pity parade with the sound of a hard smack. 

Your ears perked up and you jumped back a pace or two, looking around for the source of the noise until you looked past Ghost and saw your attacker rubbing his cheek and groaning. For a second, you couldn't quite believe what had happened, but soon enough the man was wrenching his hand away from his face in an effort to save face and it revealed an angry looking red patch of skin. It really had happened - Ghost had slapped the soldier. 2

“You think that’s knocked some sense into you, Second Lieutenant?” Ghost sneered. “Don’t you fucking dare breathe in the direction of another handler’s hybrid ever again, nevermind think that you have the right to discipline them, you self-righteous little cunt. Get out of my sight the pair of ya.”

The man opened his mouth, about to say something in his defence until his friend nodded sharply and began to drag him away. Not wanting to cause more of a scene the man relented, but the way he glared as he turned told you that this wasn’t over. There was a new target on Ghost’s back now. 

However, said back was turning away from you now and Ghost was facing you once again and pulling you into his arms. After a shocked second of fear, readying yourself to be hit or similarly reprimanded, you slowly came to realise he didn’t mean to hurt you at all. He was hugging you and rubbing your back, telling you that it was alright. 

“Wh- what are you doing?” you asked feebly, trying your best not to hiccup or sniff through your words.

“Trying to comfort you, if you’ll let me,” Ghost snorted, slowly walking you backward. 

You walked with him, but only grew more confused as he dragged you into Price’s office and forced you to sit on the old ratty couch and curl up with him. Out of the corner of your bleary eyes you saw Price sitting at his desk and watching you both with concern, gathering up a few bottles of water onto his desk. In front of you, Ghost wrapped his grip ever tighter round you and got you to bury your head into his neck.

“It’s over now, Pup,” Ghost said softly, smoothing over your salt scorched cheek. “You’re ok.” 

“But…you- aren’t you going to punish me?” you asked, freeing yourself from his hold a little and drawing away from his usually relaxing scent so that you could make an effort to think straight. 

“You’ve not done anything worth punishment,” he said gently.

“I scratched someone,” you whined, looking down at your still bloody hands with a wobbling lip. 

“Someone that saw fit to break protocol and try to discipline a hybrid that wasn’t theirs. You had every right to defend yourself. You’re not going to be punished for that.”

“Especially not when the punishment he had in mind didn’t fit the crime in the first place. Corporal punishment is supposed to be reserved for serious offences Pup, not for leaning or having a bad attitude,” Price added, coming to sit at your other side. “Here, take a drink of this. You need it, you’ve made yourself unwell.” 

He handed you a water bottle and gave you a serious look until you finally took it from him and slowly uncapped it. Through a series of uneasy sips, your heart began to regulate and your body stopped shaking. You hadn’t even realised that you had been shaking. The realisation made you sign, taking a couple breaths until you could clear your mind enough to reach some level of proper awareness again. 

“I thought it was all going to go away,” you sighed, leaning against Ghost’s chest when you knew that things were normal again. 

“What was going to go away?” Ghost asked, rubbing his thumb over your cheek. 

You bathed in his and Price’s joint attentions, letting Ghost rub your cheek and Price smooth a hand over your shoulders and back. For a few luxurious seconds you let yourself revel in the fact that you were wrong. The stupid little panicky voice in your head was a liar. Everything was just as it had been. 

“Everything,” you said eventually, voice barely a whisper. “I thought you were going to take all my things away and start treating me like they did at my old base. Thought I was going to be sent to the post…”

“Mark my words, anyone tries to lash you again and they’ll have the entire 141 to answer to, Pup,” Price said, voice coming through in a low growl. 

“And I’d never take away your things,” Ghost vowed, cupping your cheek so that you had to look at him. “They’re given to you as payment for your service to us. They’re not for me or anyone else to take away, just like Price can’t rip my things from me. Nothing’s going away and you’re never going to be treated the way you were ever again. You’re ours, alright? We always protect our own.” 

You stared at them both in disbelief, but couldn’t think of anything to say. The exhaustion and the upset combined and you were left feeling more drained than you had been in days. Instead you settled down back into Ghost’s collar bones and let yourself be petted and fussed over, sleepily letting your eyes close for the last time that day.

“Just wait till Soap and Gaz hear about this. That bastard’ll be lucky to see sunrise tomorrow,” you only just heard Price whisper darkly, before scratching a calloused hand over your ears. 

“Now now, Price,” Ghost murmured back. “Gotta make it look like an accident.”

[transosdd]

moobloom alter? masc + caretaker, maybe

𓎟𓎟 MOOBLOOM ALTER PACK .ᐟ

︵⠀ᡣ𐭩 NAMES – moobloom , flower , wyatt , dallas , jasper , oak , bloom , forest , lake , cloud , field

︵⠀ᡣ𐭩 AGE – 17

︵⠀ᡣ𐭩 PRNS – he / they / it / flower / seed / sun / light / yellow / rain / dawn / dusk / sunset

︵⠀ᡣ𐭩 GENDERS – masc-aligned , naturesoundic , mossgender , flowieeamic , flowerthing , sunsetcosmic , bloomboy , softpancakic , sunfieldgender , springadored , sweatercomfic

︵⠀ᡣ𐭩 ORIENTATION – aromantic-asexual

︵⠀ᡣ𐭩 SPECIES – human / moobloom shapeshifter

︵⠀ᡣ𐭩 CISIDS – brown hair , blue eyes , cow hybrid , shapeshifter , helpful , kind , floral scent , ADHD , easily scared , sensitive to loud noises

︵⠀ᡣ𐭩 TRANSIDS – blonde , pixelamian , yellowamian , dyslexia , ARFID , HoH

︵⠀ᡣ𐭩 PARAPHILIAS – 🌿 , 🍄 , ☔️ , 🧹 , 😇 , 👚

︵⠀ᡣ𐭩 ROLES – caretaker , soother

︵⠀ᡣ𐭩 SOURCE – moobloom ; minecraft

︵⠀ᡣ𐭩 COMMON OUTFITS – one , two , three , four

︵⠀ᡣ𐭩 FAVORITE MUSIC – "rises the moon" , "for the first time" , "7 weeks & 3 days" , "falling for u" , "fairy fountain" ,"fool"

︵⠀ᡣ𐭩 PERSONALITY – a serene and warm personality, radiating a gentle kindness wherever they go. they’re deeply connected to nature, finding joy in simple, peaceful moments, like tending to plants or basking in the sun. optimistic and lighthearted, they bring a sense of calm to those around them, always seeing beauty in the world. while they may seem dreamy or detached at times, they are thoughtful and grounded, with a quiet wisdom that comes from their deep connection to the earth. they avoid conflict, preferring harmony and cooperation, and are always ready to nurture both friendships and the environment around them. (MBTI : INFP)

︵⠀ᡣ𐭩 EMOJI PROXIES – 🌻🐄 , 🌼🐄 , 🥛 , 🌿

︵⠀ᡣ𐭩 ART CREDITS – unknown for all three

[godisasimp]

The 12 Sovereigns and their Herrscher equivalent

Some have a name that is completely different to their Herrscher counterpart, and i will say when I am unsure ; I will try to explain my reasoning for associating a certain Sovereign with a Herrschefor each of them.

⚠️This is NOT canon confirmed information as of the writing of this post (22.03.2024) and is purely speculation, do not take this as fact. Thanks. ⚠️

Truth = Herrscher of Reason/Truth ; this is one of the few whose name is similar/identical to their Herrscher counterpart.

Sky = Herrscher of the Void ; this one is easy to figure out thanks to the animation, which looks almost 1:1 identical to the Herrscher of the Void's ultimate.

Howl = Herrscher of Thunder ; for this one the ability are given and is said to "summon lighting".

Mist = Herrscher of Wind ; for this one we have to refer to the definition of Mist which is a formation of a cloud, and is often associated with air, the color scheme shown is also similar to the Herrscher of Wind (it also showcases wind, not on my screenshot, which look like Wendy's)

Frost = Herrscher of Ice ; the environment this Sovereign is shown in is a glacial land so it it pretty obvious. (i will note that the Sakura tree in the background can be a call back to PE Sakura)

Fate = Herrscher of Death/Rebirth ; just like with howling, we have to use the definition of it abilities to figure it out, which is : to control the cycle of life and death.

(i swapped the order of Thought and Flare on this picture, sorry)

Flare = Herrscher of Flame (not Flamescion because this one is an hybrid herrscher.) ; this one is another one of those with a near identical name, also the fire effect shown.

Thought = Herrscher of Sentience ; again a pretty similar name, also to have thoughts you have to have Sentience, so they are linked.

Root = ??? ; we don't have a Herrscher that fits this, but based on the fact that they seem to be in order i would have to say Herrscher of Star/Gravity

Form = ??? ; just like Root I cannot find clear evidence for this one other than following the order and say that it can be Herrscher of Domination.

Bind = Herrscher of Binding ; this one has the same name.

Maw = ??? ; another one that I have to use the order for and say with a grain of salt that it's the Herrscher of Corruption

Origin = Herrscher of Origin ; this one has the same name, and also Acheron is shown which could be another hint, since the current Herrscher of Origin is Raiden Mei.

End = Herrscher of the End/Finality ; same name, and it is also the last one shown just like how it's the last Herrscher.

------

Edit : thanks @/aimlessfellow for these precisons ; I forgot to read the description but thankfully y'all are here.

[bardic-tales]

This post delves into the divine evolution of Aurora and Lucien Moore: twin godspawn born not of womb but of will and crafted in the Ethereal Nexus by Bianca and Sephiroth. From cosmic hatchlings cloaked in iridescent down to sovereign beings ruling their own celestial and abyssal realms, this piece traces their mythic growth across two decades.

Possible Trigger Warnings: body horror, cosmic horror, death imagery, emotional manipulation, extreme parental control, genetic experimentation, identity loss, intense violence (implied and trained), magical coercion, non-consensual creation, paranormal and metaphysical trauma, parental obsession, psychological conditioning, religious and divine themes, ritualistic imagery, sacrificial undertones, warfare training of children

Aurora and Lucien were not born in the traditional sense, but hatched in their true forms—cosmic draconic-phoenix hybrids, covered in downy, iridescent feathers—within a nest Bianca forged in the heart of the Ethereal Nexus. There, she formed their shell-cocoons from stardust, divine ash, and Celestial, Demonic, and Jenova cells. When the time came, she spoke their true names, not given but encoded in their very essence. The shells fractured by choice, not force, releasing light, void, and the weight of ancient prophecy. The hatchlings emerged fully aware with the ability to converse telepathically and emotionally. They were radiant and strange with their wings too large, their horns shaped like halos, and a cloud obsurring around their lower halves. They did not cry. They breathed, and the air itself responded. Bianca gathered them into her wings, imprinted them with corrupted love, and vowed to protect them as sovereign embers of her storm: creatures of myth, born of ruin and rebirth, as she was the Harbinger of Death and Rebirth.

From the start, Aurora and Lucien exist in their true forms: beings of radiant feathers, coiled horns, and energy-rich wings. Their earliest lessons involve learning to compress their divine forms into humanoid glamours: a practice that requires emotional mastery, magical control, and metaphysical fluency. By age four, under the vigilant eyes of Sephiroth and Bianca, they achieve stable humanoid projections, though their wings remain in development.

Flight is earned through determination, repetition, and training that blends grace with grit and guided by Bianca’s nurturing instinct and Sephiroth’s exacting standards. This is achieved through synchronized flight with their parents and tethered gliders.

Their early development occurs in sacred isolation. With no other beings in existence, the twins are raised entirely by their divine parents. Their environment, the Ethereal Nexus, is an ever-shifting sanctum carved from corrupted reality and celestial harmony now. The eternal battle between the fallen celestial and the Celestial Loyalists have long been put to rest. Education is immersive and total. They spar in gravity-folded chambers, meditate beneath stars frozen in time, and learn to manipulate reality while Bianca hums lullabies in celestial tongue. Since Bianca attacked Sephiroth to protect her children, they are not brutalized by either parent. They are empowered.

Bianca’s maternal methods are fierce and protective. She stages illusions for them to conquer, teaches flight through gentle wind guidance, and shelters them in tendril-woven cocoons when they are hurt or overwhelmed.

Sephiroth is the architect of their discipline, instilling strategy, power, and vision. Bianca is their fortress: a holy terror with a mother's heart. She bathes them in miasma to temper their immunity, brings them prey, which she conjures, laced with magic to awaken their potential, and flares her wings wide when they are afraid, casting shadows that shield rather than smother. Her love is sacred, instinctual, and terrifying to behold. It was terrifying enough to even cause Sephiroth to pause.

By adolescence, the twins are fully adept in humanoid and divine forms. They master flight, reality phasing, and metaphysical resonance. Aurora leans toward sovereign domination, weaving influence through psychological manipulation and ritual. Lucien seeks transcendence. His path steeped in purity, silence, and cosmic detachment. Both are reflections of their parents, as well as the Remnants that Bianca had once falsely mothered and grieves for still. Aurora inherits Bianca’s emotional volatility and precision, while Lucien mirrors Sephiroth’s serene ruthlessness. They carry within them the dual legacies of destruction and rebirth: not as fate but as inheritance.

By age 20, Aurora and Lucien ascend beyond childhood. Each claims a sovereign domain. Aurora inherits the Abyssal plane; Lucien, the Celestial plane, where divine silence reigns and light is sculpted into matter. Their upbringing ensures they do not emulate mortals. They reign above whatever creatures they will into existence. They are gods not by chance but by deliberate design.

Their journey from feathered children to divine rulers is a myth written in parental devotion, sacred wrath, and cosmic inheritance. Through them, Bianca’s defiance of Jenova becomes immortal. Not as a footnote in Sephiroth’s saga, but as a sovereign myth of her own: the mother who birthed new gods, guarded their sanctity with fang and shadow, and taught them to write fate in their own tongues.

Growth & Evolution Timeline (0–20 Human Years)

0–1: Hatchlings: Newborn divine entities. still radiating raw cosmic energy. unable to suppress true forms.

2–4: Fletchlings: Developing control over their physical forms. learning basic reality manipulation and emotional resonance.

5–9: Emberlings: Burning brighter. children in power and curiosity, beginning structured metaphysical training, experimenting with limited glamours / shapeshifting.

10–18: Ascendants: Adolescents refining flight, phasing, and godhood theory. Capable of planar manipulation and ideological shaping. Pre-sovereign minds.

20+: Sovereigns: Fully awakened adults. rulers of their own planes. Masters of transformation, philosophy, and inherited divine roles.

Evolution:

0–1 Years Old

Hatched from reality cocoons within Bianca’s Nest at the Ethereal Nexus in their true forms: cosmic draconic-phoenix hybrids, covered in downy, iridescent feathers.

Appear as large, sentient, bird-like hatchlings with glowing eyes and clawed talons.

Cannot yet speak, but communicate telepathically with Bianca and Sephiroth through emotional pulses and rudimentary images.

Start absorbing raw aether (magic) from the environment, nourishing their celestial-infernal cores.

First signs of magic manifest as spontaneous bursts of elemental or psychic energy.

2–4 Years Old:

Begin forming a basic understanding of identity, recognizing Bianca and Sephiroth as parents and mentors.

Display clear twin bond. They often physically curled around each other while sleeping or in distress.

Can emit structured thoughts, rudimentary speech in celestial tongue, and basic mimicry of Sephiroth’s tone or Bianca’s sarcasm.

Wings remain down-covered and unusable for flight; Bianca and Sephiroth begin daily physical strengthening exercises.

They begin shaping their celestial visages: humanoid “glamour” starts forming in dreams and magic-based mimicry. Humanoid glamour they appear as toddlers with tiny wings

Undergo first “molting” and evolution: down feathers are shed, replaced by sleek proto-feathers; claws and horns grow sharper. Begin consciously practicing shifting into partial humanoid forms. usually unstable and flickering.

Bianca tutors them in corrupted reality control and emotional channeling; Sephiroth begins martial and strategic training. Magic control improves rapidly: telekinetic play, shadow manipulation, and light distortion emerge.

Wings remain too small for flight, but muscle control exercises increase. They practice with tethered gliders or flights with their parents

By age 4, they gain stable “human” glamour forms: small children with silver-white and black hair, glowing eyes, and faint residual feathers along the back and shoulders.

Begin walking, talking in age appropriate language, and fighting in human forms though they often instinctively revert to true form in distress or anger.

5–10 Years Old

Their humanoid forms mature into childlike versions of their adult selves: eerie, beautiful, and unnaturally poised.

Flight practice begins: short hovering and gliding sessions under Sephiroth’s direct instruction increases.

Begin constructing personal weapons with Sephiroth’s guidance—proto-versions of Abyssal Requiem and Lucien’s future blade. Weapons Infused with Jenova and demonic cells

Learn to switch between forms smoothly. Their true forms grow in size and complexity, developing secondary wings and more defined halo structures, much like Sephiroth's final evolution.

Start defining their personalities: Aurora becomes ambitious, regal, intense and Lucien is protective, quiet, calculating.

Inter-realm sparring begins: fighting within the mock Celestial and Abyssal planes to test adaptability and metaphysical control. Assigned preliminary dominion over prototype domains to test leadership and divine authority.

11–15 Years Old

Fully fluent in multiple magical tongues, including Infernal Script and Celestial Ley Resonance.

Begin conjuring minor spirits, enforcing planar will, and distorting space within localized fields.

Combat ability rivals lesser gods, as Sephiroth pushes them harder with multiversal dueling and mental conditioning.

Aurora leans into Abyssal war architecture, commanding demonic constructs and practicing psychological warfare.

Lucien develops planar illusionism, time-bending perception, and excels at tactical nullification.

Both begin forming early ideologies. Aurora leaning into dominion and rebirth, Lucien into preservation and paradox.

Physical growth stabilizes to near-adult humanoid proportions; wings now large enough for full flight in both forms.

16–20 Years Old

Final divine tests: Both face full metaphysical trials constructed by Bianca and Sephiroth to challenge identity, control, and autonomy.

Gain mastery over hybrid abilities. Aurora wields corrupted reality and celestial judgment; Lucien bends space and renders thought into matter.

True forms now fully developed: cosmic phoenix-dragon hybrids adorned with halos, sigils, and dimension-slicing wings.

Begin construction of their realms: the Abyssal Domain (Aurora) and the Celestial Dominion (Lucien), using raw magic, personal mythology, and parental blueprints with the help of Bianca and overseen by Sephiroth.

Emotional independence forms: though they remain loyal to their creators, their identities are no longer dependent on them.

By 20, they are considered gods in their own right. Aurora is crowned Sovereign of the Abyss; Lucien, Architect of the Celestial Spire.

Bianca and Sephiroth formally release them into divinity, leaving them to rule alone until new life is seeded into the cosmos. They do keep in contact with their children.

@themaradwrites @shepardstales @megandaisy9 @watermeezer

@prehistoric-creatures @creativechaosqueen @chickensarentcheap

@inkandimpressions @arrthurpendragon @projecthypocrisy @serenofroses

[fatehbaz]

The link between warfare and technological innovation has been well documented [...]. World War II was a particularly intense crucible of technological change, and the repurposing of military technologies and industries in the forging of a new post-war consumer [economy] is crucial [...]. Processes of technological bricolage turned the machines of war onto the natural world as global powers competed to cement their economic and imperial hegemony. In Great Britain’s post-war “groundnut scheme” in its East African territories (1946-51), this collision of nature, military hardware, and technical expertise was part of efforts to both produce more fats for the British diet and to demonstrate to the world (most importantly the United States) that, through a newly energized science-led developmentalism, British colonialism still had a “progressive” role to play in the postwar world.

The aim was to produce millions of tons of peanuts across Tanganyika using the latest methods of advanced scientific agriculture. The environmental conditions in the north, where the scheme was to begin, were known to be especially trying, not least the dry climate [...]. But faith in the power of mechanized agriculture was such that any natural limits were thought to be readily surmountable.

The groundnut scheme was to be, as its Director put it in an interview with the Tanganyika Standard, a “war” with nature, and an “economic Battle of Alamein” waged over some three million acres by an army of colonial technicians - many recruited from military ranks - and local laborers, for many of whom the scheme represented their first entry into the wage labor market.

But it wasn’t just the rhetoric of war that was repurposed.

Lancaster bombers were kitted out to survey and discover “new country” in East Africa for agricultural development. [...] [T]ractors and bulldozers from military surplus stores in Egypt proved unable to tackle the hard ground and tough vegetation, so the planners turned to a novel solution: repurposing surplus Sherman M4A2 tanks. The Vickers-Armstrong factory in Newcastle-Upon-Tyne set about rearranging key elements of the tanks’ construction [...]. The tractors, christened “Shervicks” for their hybrid origins, were [...] thought to be particularly suited to large-scale earth-moving and to the kind of heavy duty “bush clearing” that was required in Tanganyika.

Officials sought to dismiss concerns that large-scale bush clearing would have wider environmental consequences, using the well-worn colonial trope that any observed changes in local climate or erosion patterns were due to the “primitive” agricultural practices of the locals, not to the earth-moving practices of the colonists.  [...] As the plants continued to wilt in the sun, [...] [t]he stakes were high. As [J.R.] of the Colonial Development Corporation put it in a letter: “Our standing as an Imperial power in Africa is to a substantial extent bound up with the future of this scheme. To abandon it would be a humiliating blow to our prestige everywhere.” The only option left was to try and bend the weather itself to the scheme’s will, by seeding the clouds for rain. [...] “Balloon bombs” (photographic film canisters tethered to weather balloons) and a repurposed Royal Navy flare gun were used to target individual clouds [...]. The scheme itself has survived as a cautionary tale of governmental hubris, but it is instructive too as a case study of how technologies of war have been turned against other foes.

---

All text above by: Martin Mahony. “The Enemy is Nature: Military Machines and Technological Bricolage in Britain’s ‘Great Agricultural Experiment.’“ Environment and Society Portal, Arcadia (Spring 2021), no. 11. Rachel Carson Center for Environment and Society. doi:10.5282/rcc/9191. [Bold emphasis and some paragraph breaks/contractions added by me. Images and their captions are shown unaltered as they originally appear in Mahony's article. Public Domain Mark 1.0 License for images: creativecommons dot org/publicdomain/mark/1.0/]

[ashenquill]

It's time to info dump about my character headcanons some moreeeee I love spreading my agenda on the internet hehe

Mumbo Killsalot Jumbo is one of those ambiguous types where you can't tell if he's actually a hybrid or not? Like, there's something a little bit... off about him. Something distinctly non-human. Also he's a really weird guy, which makes even less sense, because at this point hybrids are like 60% of the population, and nobody bats(ha) an eye at them anymore, so it's not like he needs to hide it. But he is, in fact, secretly a vampire. Or at least, he's 1/16th vampire or something like that. He just remembers this one guy named Vlad who he refused to believe was actually his great-grandpa because he's literally, like thirty? How on Earth would he have been old enough to father children with children with children? Mumbo started believing it when he saw him again ten years later and he hadn't changed in the slightest. Suddenly, the strict nobody open the curtains rule made a lot more sense.

Now, even though Mumbo is technically a vampire, his family is primarily human. The only reason they even have vampiric origins is because Great-grandpa Vlad got turned at the ripe age of 27, and wasn't about to abandon his wife over his new and very serious garlic allergy. She thought it was all one big prank he was pulling to get out of working on the farm, but after twenty years and seven kids, she realized that being a stay-at-home dad was definitely not taking the toll it should.

Mumbo and his immediate family have retained a few of the traits they inherited from Vlad, but it manifests in very mild coincidences. His mom is allergic to garlic and his dad has a strange Scarland-Princess-like affiliation with bats. Mumbo, meanwhile, really got the short end of the stick, as he can't expose his shoulders to sunlight without them miraculously burning (he's gone through more bottles of M-77 brand sunscreen than he'd care to quantify). Not to mention the insomnia! He'd be lucky to get two hours of sleep on an average night, and the fact that the only affect it really has on him is making his eyes look baggy is truly an injustice. Wasn't insomnia supposed to cause other serious health problems? How could he even complain about it if he wasn't constantly overtired? Rather inconvenient, that.

Don't ask my why I have so much lore for this guy when I don't even write him that often. It's just the Mumbo Jumbo allure, I guess

Here's some other fun facts:

Smells like iron/copper (metallic)

Book smart - special knowledge of redstone

Likes: cloud gazing, embroidery, old westerns/duels/guns, rubix cubes (only to look at though, bro can’t solve them for shit)

Dislikes: designing floor plans, social interaction, eye contact

Passions: philanthropy, travel

Habits/other details: Super fidgety like holy shit he never stops moving, picks at his nails and has lots of scabs & hangnails bc of it, he is littered with cuts and bruises of unknown origin, also usually covered in redstone & he mistakes his blood for it half the time, can’t tell if he’s ADHD, ASD, or both (deffo both)

Reactive to their environment - does not like to be around danger most of the time, would rather watch from afar, would rather not even watch tyvm, too bad he’s always a victim, #easytarget, your honor he’s just a wet cat

Special, plot-relevant skills: good w/ redstone, rich asf

Insomniac, also has RLS, always tired but it’s not very obvious, mostly just has dumb blonde moments, his intelligence would be 10% more if he actually slept, what the heck Vlad why'd you have to get bit by a vampire

[shock]

"Don't just play—do something!", Jack Abele, 01.21.24.

This is a companion piece to the collage I made about moving into the first place that felt like my home back in '21 (shown below). They have matching frames and are displayed together above our dining table! This second piece is a reflection on how my relationship to "home" has evolved since then, especially after proposing to my now fiancé last month. I'm really proud of it!

Text transcript:

FOR YOUR EYES ONLY

In the cold, thin clouds of interstellar space, written in the precise message of starlight:

What made you so interested in fireflies?

Imagine that they propel the environment into play: they STAND OUT, add color, chaos, curves moving behind and below, inside, outward along feedback loops, perplexing positive panic persuaded to make another form of animal art.

Love is a Many-Splendored Thing, a beautiful structure, flamboyantly scuzzy, sassy, a full bouquet of many wild ideas — a dazzling interplay between lightness and unclarity, trying things out, fancy, whimsical records looped with webs, half-truth surface textures composed of swirls within swirls, a performance of information, scene-setting details with many impressive, more tongue-in-cheek, unforeseeable aspects relatively stable and evolving at the same time.

Distinctly transitional.

The trouble with love is it's hard to describe in simple and consistent words. Beyond the jolting familiarity of self-similar, self-referential tessellating hues, the little comedy-drama fictions... you see openness, possibilities toward change; our very existence together antidote to the dull grind of the paradox that we live every moment in an indifferent universe yet having so much fun with friends, local communities, places, faces, even muddy bog holes.

Music! A Tribe Called Quest, The Beastie Boys, The Breeders, Nick Cave, Nine Inch Nails, Soundgarden, Santana and Crosby, Stills, and Nash, mud-caked at Woodstock, picking up Space Age scrap, cutting collaged paper, playing with magical little lights, heretically evolving in this meaningless, magnificent place fine-tuned just right to allow for life, love, and grunge to exist nevertheless.

Maybe what keeps me here, making art, is how beautiful it is for optimism to become the first expression of hope despite danger amid the disparate depth of our universe created by chaos.

Movement characterizes my "youthful, dynamic" journey, escapes to infinite other places somewhere else, afraid of considering complicated survival long-term, wherein risk is worth the reward. But something about your windy city reminded me what strange, cascading effects the fingers of two hands form together, intersect one another, interfere with fate, interlace like light radiating rays woven, at certain points, into dynamic singularities.

Mutualism is a happy hybrid of symmetry and chaos — a relationship, it's like the entire forest is blinking in sync.

Just as the fun is to make up a great story, the writer in me calls this piece, "Don't just play— do something!"

This time around, living offers a profound pivot from playing a game. Today we confront as animals, we're not far from dogs, domesticated punks at heart, manifold.

I am humbled, exhilarated, afraid yet strangely calm and clear "On Bended Knee"

(The term ground seems inapt.)

...Nor is it possible to describe...

The closest feeling to being the world itself? It is to have loved someone so much that you wanted to spend the rest of your lifetime with them, with each other.

We're writing a book. Adding a stroke of paint and words to illustrate what we became, a bright third dimension that can be seen from space to meet the generations to come, to simulate the uncountable whimsies they could achieve.

The mind already knows before the key touches the lock.

To watch firefly swarms with a mangy mutt.

That must be quite a sight to see.

BECAUSE THEY EXIST

NOWHERE ELSE ON EARTH.

[nekomaniac]

leaves ~ plant hybrid oikawa

characters: plant hybrid! oikawa x f! plant lover reader content: (nsfw!!) shower spying and sex, oikawa pining for reader, self-pleasure m!, nipple play f! receiving, oral f! receiving, handjob, vine penetration, very light bondage (once again, the vines), thigh job word count: 4.4k a/n: hope this one was worth the wait! i love this series so so much it's my baby 🖤 i have a few more parts planned right now, but this one ended up much longer than i initially thought, so i'm not sure how long those will take 😅 let me know how we feel about this one!

masterlist 🌰 part one 🌱 part two 🪴

⊱ ─────── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─────── ⊰

Showering was probably your favorite time of the day. You couldn’t decide which part of the experience was your favorite. The searing water that washes away all of your stress and worries of the day, leaving your skin soft and reddened, or the steam filling your senses, pulling soft, relaxed sighs from your lips. And the latest addition to your list, the lounging figure on the countertop just outside the shower curtain that would appear after you got in, but would be long gone by the time you got out.

Was it really that surprising? Ivies are known to thrive in humid environments, after all. It was like a moth to a flame, or a sunflower arching its big yellow head towards the beaming sun. Tooru would hear the creak of the valves turning and immediately stalk outside the bathroom door, only daring to peek in once the shower curtain closed and the rhythm of water droplets hitting the shower tiles changed, indicating you were inside. 

His little shower sessions had started innocently enough, with him stretching along the counter as he basked in the hot, steamy environment, his vines soaking in the moisture out of the air. But then he started noticing those little gasps and hums you make as the scalding water eases the tension in your sore muscles. Next it was your barely obscured form behind the thick cloud of steam. Then he noted the way you would bend over to wash your calves, diligently lathering suds over every inch of your wet, exposed body.

It was an automatic response, he didn’t even have time to think about it the first time his thick vines dipped beneath the waistband of his shorts, curling around his hardening cock. Biting his lips to stifle his moans, he watched your blurry silhouette through the shower curtain, bending and curving as you washed yourself, every movement painting a new obscene fantasy in his mind as the thick fog of steam curled around your nude form. 

Vines slithered down to cup his balls as his hand took its original place, stroking himself in earnest as he imagined sinking deep into you, his pretty blue-green leaves tickling over your skin while he planted his seed deep into you. Chest heaving with exertion, he was thankful you were zoned out enough to not notice his heavy panting as he brought himself closer to his climax. Groaning softly, his fist tightened as his spindly vines massaged his sensitive balls. His hips stuttered as he wasted his load, spilling it into his boxers despite his instincts screaming at him to sow his seed deep inside you. 

Suddenly he was hit with the mortification of what he’d done… What is wrong with him? Spying on you during your sacred relaxation time? He felt terrible, shame clawing at him as he slid off the cool countertop and stalked back to his room, pacing nervously. Yet he couldn’t help himself the next day when he heard the familiar squeak of the valves in the shower turning. 

Like the forbidden fruit, he was drawn to your tantalizing, barely censored form and the delicious humidity that clung to the walls and filled the room with a thick fog. He found himself sitting in front of the bathroom door, like always, waiting and watching for the perfect time to sprawl over his designated spot on the counter. 

And so began the new normal, you going through your normal routine: shampoo, conditioner, body wash; while Tooru went through his: lurking, jerking, and sneaking back to the confines of his room to wallow in his shame.

As you stood in the shower you smiled fondly to yourself as the familiar shadow settled onto the countertop a few feet away. Pretending to be oblivious as always, you started to go through your regimen, lathering your body with sweet-scented suds while quivering leaves danced just outside the curtain. 

A string of ivy began to coil around the shower curtain rod, leaves darting out just shy of getting under the stream dripping from the showerhead. You gently push them away from the drizzling showerhead, your soft touch causing them to stiffen and flare for a moment before relaxing.

“Careful, you’re gonna burn your little leaves, this water’s way too hot for you.” You say gently, you hear Tooru make a soft surprised noise. “Yes, of course I noticed you sitting out there today and all of the rest of them. I’m a horticulturist. I know you can’t resist the humidity.” You laugh softly, imagining the shocked look on his face.

“I’m sorry,” He starts immediately, his usual bravado long gone, “it’s wrong and undignified and-” He jumps when your fingertips start to gently tap along his leaves, causing them to subtly fan out as if reaching for you. “You shouldn’t touch plants, it causes a stress response…” He states softly, his voice slightly shaky.

“Oh, yes… you sound very stressed, Tooru.” You tease, gently ghosting your fingers over the sensitive ovate leaves before catching one between your fingers. A soft tug has him hissing softly. Reaching down, you flip the hot water valve, cooling the water to a safer temperature for him to get closer. You tug the shower curtain back gently, careful not to pinch any of his thinner leaves in the rings. “Are you going to sit on that countertop all night or come talk to me?” You peek your head out coyly, the outline of your nude body vaguely concealed by the opaque curtain. 

A shuddering breath leaves his lungs at your flirtatious invitation. The steam settled and clung to him, leaving a shiny layer of condensation over his thick vines. Sparkling with a dewy sheen, he finally willed himself to stand on shaky legs and walk over, his usual bravado abandoning him upon being caught in such a salacious situation. 

“What did you want to talk about, Y/N?” He clears his throat softly, cheeks tinted a faint pink with both embarrassment and obvious arousal that you noticed long before the tent in his pants.

“Maybe you need a more direct dose of humidity…” You tease, lowering your voice before gazing up at him with half lidded eyes. The pink on his cheeks deepens as words get jumbled and caught in his throat. You slip your hand into his waistband just enough to start to barely tug it down. He immediately melts into the touch, breath already shaky. Hips arching into your touch, he quickly reaches down to fumble with his pants before pushing them down. Stripping off his shirt efficiently, he stands in front of you, nearly bare in nothing but a pair of boxers hanging loosely from his hips.

The sight of him almost completely exposed was enough to take your breath away. Your eyes trailed hungry paths along his body, tracing the soft definition of his muscles and the little moles that formed tiny constellations over his torso. His chest heaved softly, showing his struggle with restraint. The thought of him having to try so hard to maintain his composure simply because you’re showering nearby sent a bolt of pleasure right to your core. 

“I- Are you sure about this? I mean you’re so dignified and this feels so beneath you-”

“Oh now you’re having second thoughts?” You trail your fingers down his arms teasingly, toying with his thick, ropey vines with a soft laugh. “Leave it to me to decide what’s above or beneath me, okay? I’ve had a really long day and right now there’s a gorgeous man in front of me that I know can make me feel good so please just-”

And just like that the switch was flipped. Tooru Oikawa looked like he’d never felt the sting of rejection in his life, his pride wholly all-encompassing. His eyes darkened with lust, his cocky smirk leaving a dimple in the corner of his left cheek as he gazed into your eyes like he just couldn’t decide what to do with you first.

“Always such a temptress…” He chuckles softly to himself, hooking his thumbs into his boxers and quickly discarding them before tugging the shower curtain from your grip. “Do you mind if I join you, beautiful?” He asks politely, despite his intentions. 

You nod a bit shocked by the sudden 180, but stepping back to allow him to enter into the shower nonetheless. Cool droplets cascade down your nude form as you move further under the showerhead. Eyes half-lidded and hungry, he steps in after you, taking a moment to savor the sight playing out before him. His favorite fantasy was happening right before his eyes, here you were, wet and needy and yearning for him. 

His brown eyes finally dared to dip below your chin, stopping to take in the smooth swell of your breasts. Taking in a shaky breath, his eyes traced over your nude chest. His vines quivered lightly with anticipation as his eyes traced over your nipples, the sensitive buds hardening as the cool water trickled lazily down your front.

“Tooru-” You start, a bit unnerved by his silent staring. Your arms move to cover your body, suddenly becoming bashful despite inviting this exact scenario.

“Shhh, pretty girl… I’ve waited a long time for this.” He purred, his voice saccharine sweet and low. His vines whip out towards you with a soft snap, coiling around your arms to carefully pry them away from your body and open you up for him. “You just stand still and let me look, yeah?” He asks, though it’s more of a demand with the way his bulky vines locked you into the vulnerable position. 

His eyes trailed down your plush body, leaving a searing path in their wake. You felt overexposed in the most delicious way possible. Foolishly, you’d assumed Tooru would rush things along like most human men, too eager to take time to study you the way he was. Like he was trying to commit every curve and divot of your body to memory- no doubt to stroke himself to later when he was back in the confines of his own room.

One of his vines slowly coiled around your left breast, leaves tickling along the sensitive skin as they inched along. Goosebumps rose along their path as the cool stems slithered along your heated skin. A soft, leafy stipule unintentionally grazes your pert nippple, pulling a quiet gasp from your lips. He lets out a soft chuckle at your reaction, leaning closer to whisper in your ear.

“Sensitive, aren’t they?” He grins, kissing the shell of your ear as his vine continues its erotic exploration of your soft chest. His pale, slender fingers gently trail up your torso before settling over your other breast, kneading the supple fat. 

You let out a shaky breath, the cool water raining down your back doing nothing to ease the heat pooling between your thighs as he toyed with you. He leans forward, gently nipping and kissing below your ear, littering kisses and soft love-bites down your jaw. Taking soft, tremulous breaths, you tilt your head to the side to give him better access to the sensitive skin. Feeling his smirk along your skin, his warm breath spreads across your neck as he lets out a soft chuckle at your submissive display. 

“Tooru-” You let out a soft breathy moan at his featherlight kisses and teasing grazes of his teeth, the burning heat churning deep in you, growing more and more unbearable.

“Shhh… what did I tell you?” He smirks against your neck, giving you a warning nip. “You just stand there looking all pretty for me and I’ll take care of it.” His vines squeezed at your chest with increased urgency despite his cool attitude, your pretty little noises going straight to his throbbing cock.

He dips his head down, taking one of your nipples into his mouth and suctioning softly to the sensitive peak. Swirling his tongue in lavish circles, he looks up at you with half-lidded eyes, one of his thinner vines tracing the edge of your jaw as he suckles hungrily at your chest. You gently card your fingers through his hair, eliciting a soft moan from him. The vibrations dance through you, causing your chest to arch into his greedy mouth. 

Wrapping strong arms around your waist, he keeps you close with something akin to desperation, making sure you can’t shy away from his strong suckling at your breasts. You feel soft, ovate leaves trickling down your ribs and onto your stomach. A thin slithering vine makes its way between your thighs, tickling softly at your core as it parts your lips. You let out a sharp gasp, only to be rewarded by Tooru tightening his grip, holding you firmly in place.

“It’s fine, just relax…” He says urgently, his soft leaves fluttering against your clit. “They’re not going to hurt you, I promise.” Hurting you was the furthest thing from your mind, you wanted to tell him, but all of the words stuck to the roof of your mouth as his vine coiled around your sex. Your thighs trembled as the spindly vine squeezed and milked at your clit, his mouth latching back onto your breast as he sensed your lack of protest. 

His leafy tendril toyed with you gently as his mouth worked against your chest. A particularly sturdy leaf dipped down between your folds, scooping out your growing arousal before bringing it to Tooru’s waiting mouth. He let his tongue loll out of his mouth, locking eyes with you as the leaf sensually dragged along his tongue, smearing your wetness against his taste buds. Visibly shuddering at the erotic sight, you gripped onto his arm with a shaky hand.

“Tooru, please. I can’t be patient anymore. I’m not sure what type of endurance plants have but I need you.” You pleaded with him, your voice dripping with arousal and desperation. He made a soft, pleased noise, drinking down your arousal before licking his lips with a sly nod.

“Fine, fine… If you insist~” He grins, a teasing lilt painting his words. The vine squeezing at your clit gave it one final flick before retreating, only for Tooru to drop to his knees onto the shower tile. Slowly, he licked at the cool water dripping down your stomach and collecting at your thighs, drinking it in before leaning forward to suck at your clit. He lathed gentle circles over the sensitive bud, tongue occasionally dipping between your lips to gather your sweet juices. Gripping onto the shower shelf with trembling fingers, you let soft obscenities fall from your lips as he took his time tasting his prize. 

Without stopping his gentle attention to your dripping pussy, Tooru lifted your leg and slung it over his shoulder, opening you up further for a thick vine to suddenly slide inside you. As wet as you were with Tooru’s attention, there was little resistance as it burrowed into your silken walls. You gasped at the foreign sensation, clutching onto anything you could find. He flicked his tongue rapidly, vine twisting and snaking deeper and deeper into you. His viney tendrils caressed you, snapping and coiling inside you in a way wholly unfamiliar to you. 

He clutched at your plush thigh, kneading it as he licked at you fervently. Your scent, the way you tasted, the pretty little moans you were letting out… fuck he was getting dizzy with how bad he needed to bury himself inside you. Every little reaction you gave was unknowingly pushing him closer and closer to the brink.

“Tooru!” You choke out as the vine dips into a spongy spot, your legs trembling at the intense sensation as he diligently lapped at your clit. He hummed softly, his cocky grin pressing against your sex. Sleek leaves fluttered inside your dripping core, each sensual coil of his thick vine stretching you more and more. You felt fuller than you ever have, your walls struggling to accommodate the twisting vine.

Without warning, he withdrew, sliding the vine that had been pumping inside you sensually across his tongue, leaving your slick dripping across his parted lips. His tongue darted out, his lips curled into a smirk as he drank down the last of your sweet arousal. Before you could even think of begging for him to fill you again, he lifted you up just enough to spin you towards the wall. Throwing your hands up against it to catch yourself, you glance over your shoulder just as he pressed his chest against your back.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head, my darling horticulturist~” He purred, confidence dripping off every word. “I won’t make you wait any longer for your prize…” He kissed down the column of your neck before trailing over your shoulder. With a gentle bite, his hips began to grind into yours, dragging his throbbing erection between the crevice of your thighs. Despite how tough he talked, you could feel the soft stutter of his hips as he finally got to rub his aching cock against your silky skin.

His warm breath tickles along the shell of your ear as he lets out a shaky, relieved sigh, rutting his slick cock against you as cool water drips and pools between your thighs. He drinks you in, relishing in the cool humidity and the warm embrace of your plump hips against his. One of his arms curls tightly around your waist, the other digging into your hip as he uses your thighs as a fleshlight, stroking along the pillowy skin.

You swear you can almost hear a whimper leave his lips as he drags his cock against you, His breath already shaky just from this little bit of stimulation. The leaves from his vines slap against each other, tangling into one another as if unsure of where to go or what to do. The tip of his cock ghosts against your clit, causing you to jolt forward, a sharp gasp leaving your lips.

One of your hands grabs onto his at your hip, gripping at his wrist before sliding down and intertwining your fingers. Despite the raw carnal desire dripping off of him as he nearly shoots his load just from his throbbing cock being near your pussy, Tooru continued his dragging himself just below your syrupy folds, your arousal slowly starting to trickle down onto his tip. His vines began to creep around you, some coiling at your legs and others trailing up your arms and falling lazily over your chest. It was a tangle of greenery and wet skin, the showerhead beating down on you both as he bit down softly at your shoulder to ground himself.

“Fuck this…” You groan softly. Before Tooru could think to question you, your fingers reached down and wrapped around his length. He hissed through his teeth immediately bucking into your hand. With all of the foreplay he was beyond sensitive, the tip of his cock flushed a pretty pink. You trailed your finger slowly up a prominent blue-green vein on the side, causing him to pull his bottom lip between his teeth with a soft whine. The way he said your name sounded like a prayer, that desperate, whiny tone. 

“Y/N… please…” He pleaded with you, begging you to show him some mercy and just jerk him properly. You’d always been very attentive to your plants, it was how you had gotten yourself into this situation in the first place after all. So who were you to deny your poor little houseplant his needs that only you could provide? 

Your fingers slowly close around his throbbing cock in a fist, precum spurting out of the tip as his dick jumps at your attention. Without waiting for you to start moving, his hips jerked into your palm, slapping against your fist with fervor. Quiet, kettle-esque whines left his lips as he chased your fingers each time they neared his tip, slamming into them back down to the base. You kept a tight grip, allowing him to fuck into your hand. Soon, his vines were trailing to your wrist, holding it in place as he drove his hips into you over and over. His pretty brown eyes fluttered closed, completely caught up in the sensation of finally having your hands on him instead of his own. 

He bites his lip softly, groaning as your hand starts to stroke in time with his thrusts. Watching his face contort with pleasure, you massage at his head, milking clear beads of precum from his flushed tip before dragging your fist back down to his base. Tickling at the underside of his head has a blush flaring up against his pale skin, his eyes half lidded as he looks at you with a pleading gaze. Sex like this was a constant role-reversal, one of you playing with the other until they got fed up and took charge of the situation. It was exciting, almost addictive, the unpredictability of it all. 

In an instant you were hoisted into the air, the breath stolen from your lungs as your thighs were hiked. Your back slapped against the frigid tile of the shower wall, your knees spread and pinned on either side of your stomach. The thickest of his vines kept you airborne, the leafy cords digging into the fat of your thighs and keeping you spread wide open for him. His lips parted, panting softly as he took in the sight of you, exposed and vulnerable, yet you couldn’t have looked more thrilled. 

Your bottom lip was tucked between your teeth, the corners of your lip quirking into an anticipatory smirk. Your chest rose and fell with deep breaths as your eyes raked searing paths over his body, as if seeing it all for the first time all over again. Cool water dribbled a slow stream down his toned torso, dripping down his abs and prominent v line before drizzling onto the base of his cock. 

“Well don’t you look pleased with yourself?” He smirks, voice low and teasing as he steps forward to settle between your parted thighs. His slender fingers trailing along your wet skin, thinner vines whipping out to tease at your breasts, coiling around your pillowy breasts to flick at the pert nipples. “Oh, how cute you are when you get your way~” He chuckles softly to himself, dragging his dripping cock through your slick before finally, fuck, finally… the thick tip gently prods against your entrance before slipping inside.

Lips parting into a silent moan, you tilt your head back. A vine slithers to the base of your neck, tilting your head back to face him as he slowly pushes into you. The tight bands of ropey vines holding you in place against the wall tense slightly as he finally bottoms out. You feel every devastating inch of his perfect cock as he lets you adjust to the sheer girth and length. 

His deep brown eyes gazed into yours, half-lidded and pussy-drunk as he tries and fails to pretend that the delicious way you’re squeezing him isn’t scratching an itch he’s left for far too long. Finally starting to rock his hips, his perfect white teeth sink into his plump lower lip to try and stifle the needy groans threatening to spill out. Fuck you’re enveloping him so perfectly, the constant pressure from your tight walls wringing out noises from him that his cocky self wished he could suppress.

The vines on your breasts coiled around in hypnotic circles, giving constant stimulation to them while his cock pounded into you from below. With his vines keeping you bound and spread, his hands stayed free to explore while his hips smacked into yours. His slender fingers began to play with your clit, teasing the small bundle of nerves and adding onto the overwhelming pleasure.

Attempting to squirm against his touch, his vines tightened marginally around you, sinking and squeezing into the fat of your thighs. You could feel an almost sort of rippling muscle inside the thick green appendages, almost reminiscent of a ball python slithering. The vines at your chest squeeze your nipples as if in displeasure with your squirming, a sort of warning to sit still.

“Tooru~” You mewl, his fingers beginning to speed up on your clit as his thrusts grow faster. Spearing you onto him, he drags his thick cock against your silky walls. 

“Mhm?” He hums, his eyes locked onto where your bodies are meeting over and over again. Immediately from his tone you can tell he’s no better off than you, focusing every ounce of energy on bullying his thick cock into your tight heat. His leaking tip presses soft kisses to your cervix with each thrust, savoring the delicious resistance from the spongy ring. 

Your thighs tremble with every stroke he gives you, heat starting to pool deep in your belly. Looking up to gaze at him, you feel your face flush a hot red as moans start to fall from your lips, getting deeper and throatier the deeper he fucks into you. Your noises only serve to spur him on more, hips beginning to piston into you faster as he chases his release. Soft grunts fall from his lips, sweat peppering his brow despite the constant stream of cool water raining down between your bodies.

“Y/N,” He croaks out, throwing his head back as he drives his hips into yours with fervor. His vines tangle over each other as if fighting for which gets to slither where along your soft skin. Wanton moans fall from your lips, each thrust of his hips serves to push you closer to the edge as you sit suspended and helpless to the constant onslaught of pleasure. 

A particularly harsh rub against your clit has you spiraling over the edge, your gummy walls spasming around his thick cock. Warmth gushes around and envelops Tooru, encouraging him to redouble his efforts. He rips you out of the vines' grasp, holding you close to his chest as he rails into you fiercely. Your body ricochets from the impact, breasts bouncing wildly as he uses you for pleasure. 

With a deep thrust, he finally comes undone and bursts inside you. Creamy, thick white ropes spray deep inside you, crawling up towards your cervix. He fucks his release deeper into you with slow, rhythmic strokes as his chest heaves with exertion. 

“Hey, baby…” He says hoarsely, his forehead leaning down to press against yours. “Does anything hurt? Are you feeling okay?” His voice trembles, still coming down from his monumental high as he stays buried deep inside you, refusing to leave your comforting warmth even as his cock begins to soften.

“Mhmmm…” You hum softly, too blissed out to think about anything other than how soon you can convince him to join you for another shower. You had a feeling your water bill would be significantly higher come next month…

NEKOMANIAC © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, MODIFY, OR TRANSLATE

[as-i-watch]

Do you know what the biggest lie ever told in one piece is?

"There are only 5 devil fruits that can fly"

I mean Pell sounded cool when he said it but it has gotten worse over time with every devil fruit that appears.

Let's go down the list from least to most ridiculous DF users who can fly.

ACTUAL BIRDS:

-Pell [Bird Bird fruit: Model Falcon]

-Marco [Bird Bird fruit: Model Phoenix]

-Morgans [Bird Bird fruit: Model Albatross ]*

*Morgans is flightless in his hybrid form, but Albatrosses can naturally fly for long distances*

-Buzz [Bird Bird fruit Model eagle]**

**Buzz is a noncanon character from the movie One piece strawhat chase. He is a dog**

OTHER FLYING ANIMALS:

-Cub [bug bug fruit: Model rhinoceros beetle]

-Bian [bug bug fruit: Model hornet]

While bugs are known for crawling, these two tontatas have DFs who's species can naturally fly.

-King [Dragon Dragon fruit: Model Pteranodon]

Flying is the only natural thing that King does with his fruit. All the fire stuff is unique to King

-Kaido/Momonosuke [DF NAME UNKNOWN]

Momo can fly by summoning clouds and walking on them but dragons appear to have the innate ability to fly as shown with Kaido

BIRD BY TECHNICALITY:

-Toragatsu [Bird Bird fruit Model: Nue]

Torgatsu is a noncanon character from the One Piece x Kyoto art show. The nue is a chimera like creature from Japanese folklore that has the body of a tiger, head of a monkey and a snake for a tail. Alternatively it can be described as having the back of a tiger, the limbs of a tanuki, the tail of a fox, the head of a cat, and the torso of a chicken. It is a bird fruit because the name Nue also refers to the scaly thrush bird that the chimera mimics. Torgatsu can fly by summoning rainbow colored flames.

LOGIAS:

All known logia users [with the exceptions of Aokiji, Akainu*, Blackbeard &Caribou ] can fly via elemental propulsion. [*Akainu is in a different category]

-Ace/Sabo [flame flame fruit]

-Smoker [plume plume fruit](smoke)

-Crocodile [Sand sand fruit]*

*the presence of these 3 fruits alone in alabasta immediately invalidated Pell's statement*

-Kizaru [glint glint fruit] (light)

-Enel [Rumble Rumble fruit] (Lightning)

-Caesar Clown [Gas Gas fruit]

-Monet [Snow snow fruit]

PARAMECIA SHENANIGANS

-Shiki [Float Float fruit]

man can just straight up fly

-Trafalgar Law [Op Op fruit]

-Fujitora [Press Press fruit]

-Eustass Kid [Magnet Magnet Fruit]

The above manipulate their environment to create platforms that they ride on.

-Big Mom [Soul soul fruit]

Can use her soul to create constructs that she rides on

-Perona [Hollow Hollow fruit]

Can fly by turning herself into a ghost.

-buffalo [Spin Spinf Fruit]

Can fly by helicoptering his body parts.

IS IT FLYING IF I DON'T TOUCH THE GROUND?

-Akainu [Mag mag fruit]

Has been shown to use his magma to propel himself short distances but hasn't shown the ability to fly

-Magellan [Venom Venom fruit]

Can create pathways of poison that allow him to fast travel around impel down

FLIGHT BY TECHNICALITY

-Buggy [Chop chopper fruit]

his body parts can Float around within a certain radius of him, excluding his feet.

DOESNT COUNT AS FLYING

-Ms. Valentine [Kilo Kilo fruit]

Reducing her weight to 1Kg allows her to jump really high into the air and slowly fall down

??????

Karasu [DF UNKNOWN]

Can turn himself into a murder of crows and fly.

SHOULD NOT BE ABLE TO FLY AT ALL

-Doflamingo[string string fruit]

He flies by spidermaning his way through the air, sticking his strings to clouds

-Robin [flower flower fruit]

Grows several dozen arms that she fuses into a pair of wings

-Luffy [Gum Gum fruit]

Gear 4. Contracts and expands his legs with so much speed and force that it generates thrust.

There are probably some others that I missed but these are the major ones for where you are.

This a really cool categorization and also

Perhaps it was meant that only 5 DF like actually come with wings and the other ones just elevate their powers to do all that crazy shit

Or perhaps is further evidence Oda makes it all up as he goes along (most likely lol)

[barbieheart]

♡ FERAL ♡ part 1: BEG

modern yandere!childe/tartaglia x dog hybrid!fem!reader

DARK CONTENT WARNING

TAGS: dead dove do not eat, yandere, creep behavior, rape/non-con/dub-con, sexual content, sexual slavery, poverty, master/pet dynamics, hybrids, animal death, afab reader, fem reader, blood, violence, gore, depression, ptsd, panic attacks, suicidal thoughts, suicidal attempts, stockholm syndrome, kidnapping, pregnancy, breeding, abortion, miscarriage, modern teyvat

♡ Part I: BEG ♡

The sound of the wind whistling through the trees was white noise at this point. Thankfully, the hood of your oversized hoodie kept your soft canine ears warm from the wind’s assault. Darkness of night had cascaded the city far sooner than you expected, but the rain clouds above hadn’t been in the forecast, either. Your eyes followed the slow raindrops that began to dot the sidewalks. You’d better quicken your pace if you want to get home.

Well, “home” was a very generous term. The pack of stray canine hybrids you belonged to wasn’t exactly what you’d call “home”. However, their company was better than fending for yourself alone in the unforgiving walls of the city. Living in poverty was your reality, but you didn’t know anything else. It’s not like your job at the convenience store paid you enough to care.

You passed by the neon lights of a ramen bar, your mouth drooling with hunger. You knew you didn’t have enough money to sit yourself up on the stool and order something, but the thought occupied your head for a bit. Your tail wagged slowly at the consideration. Wouldn’t a ramen bowl be nice? You wouldn’t be able to pay for your gym membership this month if you purchased a bowl - would a month of showers be worth a small… delicious… bowl of noodles?

No. You needed to be careful with your existing money. You sighed to yourself, frustrated with your situation. A few more blocks to go, and you’d be home with your fellow canines. Surely, they’d saved a rat carcass for you to eat.

Ugh, maybe you could brandish your adorable puppy ears to the folks outside of a restaurant and beg for leftovers. After a while, you’d forgotten a lot of your dignity when it came to letting folks pet your ears for a scrap of food.

Changing course, you instead made your way to the local restaurant district. Authentic food, tasty drinks, a safe environment from the incoming storm, it was everything you could ask for. You snooped around the entrances, coming across a group of well dressed people outside of a high-class Liyuean restaurant. You slipped your hood from your head, letting your ears bounce adorably from their previous places folded against your head. Your hair was messy, but that didn’t do anything to deter your determination.

One way or another, you were targeting their hearts for a piece of pork if you could! As you got closer, their attention fell on you, a couple of the group members cooing at how adorable you were. You looked pitiful: big ears, puppy eyes, your hands in a begging position, and a light whine crawling out the back of your throat.

“Snack, please?” You spoke in the highest pitch you could, coming out even whinier than you intended. With the state of your clothing and dirtied appearance, a couple humans in the group took pity on you. In particular, a tall and youthful ginger man. The container of noodles in his hand was your main goal - you could smell it!

“How cute!” He spoke energetically, reaching a gloved hand for your head. You instinctually flinched back, but forced yourself to accept his gentle touch. He rubbed the spots behind your ears and you internally purred.

“Childe, do be careful.” One of the group members spoke, his deep voice rolling pleasantly.

“Don’t worry about it, I can handle a lil doggy!” The ginger laughed. You let your tail wag quickly. Perhaps they were under the impression that you didn’t speak very well and were unable to understand the warning against you. You knew the reputation the strays in the area had caused; stealing, attacks, conniving gestures. This was something you were familiar with yourself, having stolen a bagel or two on this very street.

“Now, who’s a good girl?” Childe playfully teased, crouching a bit to your height and patting his thigh. He was treating you like an actual dog! While you were incredibly insulted, you didn’t show it. Instead, your tail wagged faster than before and you let your tongue peak from your lips. You gave a couple yips for good measure. 

Charmed, the ginger man opened the container of leftovers and offered an octopus tentacle. He held the tentacle out for you, expecting you to eat from his hands. You smiled, gently taking the offering from his palm, much to your embarrassment. You barely chewed before swallowing. Unfortunately, he wasn’t done embarrassing you quite yet.

“Want some more, girl? Sit, be a good girl for me!”

Ugh, this bitch. You complied, sitting on your knees on the cold, hard sidewalk. Childe smiled before holding another octopus tentacle in his hands for you to take. You reached a hand for the food, but Childe easily snatched it away.

“Ah, ah, ah! Eat from my hand, puppy....” He paused. “Don’t you have a home?” You felt your heart sink but you obeyed this time around, earning yourself a second piece of food, but didn’t answer his question thanks to chewing the seafood meat.

“Childe, the group is heading out. Shall we get going?” Childe’s deep-voiced companion spoke again, shifting his eyes away from you. At least somebody here had some shame.

“Oh, yeah! Let’s go before we get left behind.” Childe gave you one last pat on the head, his blue eyes hiding something sadistic, before turning and joining his human friend under an umbrella. They left you to stare after them, your ears lowered in disappointment. You had really put in the work, and they only gave you two little pieces of food! Straightening your legs and standing to your full height, you let your eyes wander the streets for more opportunities.

After an hour of begging, pets, and essentially baby-talking, you were exhausted. You’d only made out with some tiny table scraps, hardly a bite or two, and you were still hungry. Finding yourself wandering the same couple blocks, you decided to change it up and walk down the quiet residential neighborhood just a street down. You pulled your hood up again, shielding you from the heavy downpour. Soon enough, you were soaked to the bone with the storm’s relentless pounding.

Looking around for some sort of cover from the rain, your eyes found a single car on the road, slowly making its way down the road in your direction. You didn’t think much of it. This street was usually quiet at night, save for a few cars here and there, but you’d never seen such a luxurious car in this neighborhood. The car kept going, but then did a u-turn and strolled right up next to you. 

Uncomfortable, the fur on your tail raised in caution. You backed away, avoiding the vehicle and quickening your pace down the street. Fuck finding a dry place, you need to get out of here. When you heard the car door open and swiftly shut, you bolted down the street. You knew they were close, their footsteps gaining on you. You peaked over your shoulder, trying to get a look at the stranger. 

In a second, you were completely stopped, having run smack into a metal pole. In your shock and daze, the pain blooming in your skull was set to the side as the stranger placed his gloved hand over your mouth, muffling any cries and screams you produced. He pulled you against his chest, flooding your nose with his familiar scent, his voice soft and sultry in your acute ear.

“Shhhh, be a good girl, yeah?”

[dailycharacteroption]

Class Feature Friday: Obliteration Faculty (Nanocyte Faculty)

(Render of the Service Weapon as it appears in its Grip form in the game Control by Remedy Studios)

There’s a lot of fun things about the nanocyte class, and there are just so many fun ways to use nanites in and out of combat.

Perhaps one of their most offensive abilities is the ability to create weapons from their symbiotic nanites, giving them powerful tools of destruction they can never truly be disarmed of.

For today’s entry, however, we’ll be looking at a variant of the nanocyte that specializes in destruction using such created weapons. They might provide advanced targeting to pinpoint the most lethal areas of a target’s body, or they might reshape the weapon on the micro-scale to be even more lethal , or even sacrifice droves of their components to enhance the damage in other ways.

No matter the exact method, not only do these nanocytes become especially lethal against their targets, but they can use their methodology to spread the harm to other targets as well, becoming nanomachine-enhanced engines of destruction.

The weapons these warriors create are built to let nothing stop them, penetrating hard materials and even altering to accept a little extra charge (or nanite surge) to become more damaging, the latter by imbuing nanites into the projectiles or striking area for extra damage.

The nanites can even sacrifice themselves to imbue the weapon with other types of damage, superheating themselves or chilling for fire or cold, or overloading for electricity.

Whether they are left behind by a melee weapon or are carried to the target at range, these nanocytes can discharge such nanites that they spray out from the wound, carrying the form of damage to a nearby target to spread destruction, though it is naturally lighter than the initial impact.

Additionally, the guidance of their nanites makes them more accurate when attacking repeatedly.

Later on, their sprays of nanites can spread further and with an expenditure of nanites can be used repeatedly in the same onslaught of attacks.

Naturally, a nanocyte with this faculty is going to primarily be using their gear array to create weapons, as all of their faculty abilities center around such weapons. They typically only would use their sheath array when out of combat for the protective benefits and the cloud when avoidance is more important than fighting. As such, their knacks are going to be mostly made up of those that enhance their weapons or otherwise make them more effective combatants, such as heavy armor edge, material alterations, split manifestation, eldritch upgrade, heavy weapon edge, and so on. In either case, you can build them as either melee or ranged attackers with ease, or perhaps split your focus.

With their destructive abilities, the nanites bonded to these nanocytes almost certainly had an origin in combat, meant to enhance the performance of both the host and their equipment. Of course, even if that is true, the character might not have been the intended recipient. In such a case, the nanites might simply be continuing their function, or they might have adapted such combat potential as a solution for keeping their host alive and safe in a hostile environment.

Seeking information about a former client, the party singles out a xulgath member of a mercenary company who is known for being a drunken partyer. Getting him to talk should be easy, but if he discovers the ruse he’ll prove to be a dangerous combatant, his intoxication doing nothing to hamper the nanites in his body.

Rumor has it that a magitech-focused corporation is developing a method of creating hybrid magitech nanites able to enhance the host with magically-empowered attacks. In order to do so, they’ve been studying stolen aeon stone network constructs to see how each component coordinates with the others. However, they don’t realize the risk when one collection gets free and attempts to merge with the others to create a powerful distress signal relay.

Valgoth the Arsenal is an infamous pirate, named for the vast array of heavy weapons his nanites can replicate and enhance. They say he was once a super soldier serving in some warlike nation’s military, but it appears that for some reason or another, he left, choosing to ply his skills in taking from merchant vessels.

[docgold13]

Heroes & Villains The DC Animated Universe - Paper Cut-Out Portraits and Profiles

Swamp Thing

Doctor Alec Holland was a brilliant botanist and biochemist who worked on a bio-restorative formula he believed could solve the world hunger. He toiled away on this project in a remote laboratory hidden in the Louisiana swamplands.  

The agents of a competitor broke into his lab and set a bomb.  Holland was caught in the explosion, which both drenched him in the bio-restorative formula as well as set his body ablaze.  He ran into the swamp before he died and the bio-restorative chemicals interacted with the plant life of the swamp.  The flora had been somehow imbued with an imprinting of Holland’s consciousness.  Having gained a sentience, the flora formed into a humanoid form and rose up from the bog as the Swamp Thing, the latest in a long line of Earth elementals charged with protecting the planet’s fragile environment.  

Years later, Poison Ivy and The Floronic Man stole the information the government had accrued on how Alec Holland had been changed into the Swamp Thing.  The pair planned on releasing a giant cloud of bio-restorative spores that would cause all organic life on earth to become floral based hybrids; the world would be repopulated with swamp things whom Poison Ivy and The Floronic Man could control and lord over.  

Fortunately, the villains’ scheme was thwarted by Batman and Nigtwing with the invaluable help of Harley Quinn.  The Swamp Thing itself rose up in the climax of the altercation, but chose to do nothing to affect the outcome.  Instead it was Harley’s pleading to her friend Ivy that turned the tied and enabled the heroes to win out.

Actor John DiMaggio provided the voice for The Swamp Thing.  The character initially appeared in the Justice League episode ‘Comfort and Joy’ but featured more prominently in the animated movie, Batman and Harley Quinn.   

[bardic-tales]

Diversity in Blood and Stardust

Step 10 of the The Leviathan method

The speaking roles and diversity elements align with the key themes of identity, belonging, and connection. The primary focus on Bianca and Sephiroth allows for an in-depth exploration of their dynamic while maintaining cultural and personal diversity in the supporting cast.

Adjustments will include giving more speaking roles to minor characters in Blood and Stardust -- Zack, Cloud, and Tifa and ambient villagers -- to enhance diversity in future scenes.

Point of Diversity 01: Celestial and Demonic Lineages

Characters with Speaking Parts:

Bianca Moore

Asmodeus (Azrakiel)

Description: Bianca's celestial and demonic heritage represents a fundamental aspect of her identity and the world-building in this story. As a product of Seraphine, an archangel, and Azrakiel, a demon lord, her existence challenges the binary perception of good versus evil. Her celestial lineage connects her to divine purposes, while her demonic side brings a raw, destructive power that she struggles to control. These dual aspects reflect the larger theme of coexistence between opposing forces. Asmodeus embodies the pure infernal aspect, representing tyranny and ambition, which contrasts Bianca's struggle for self-determination.

Point of Diversity 02: Human and Non-Human Species

Characters with Speaking Parts:

Sephiroth (Jenova-infused human)

Bianca Moore (human vessel for celestial/demonic powers)

Zack Fair (human)

Description: The world of Final Fantasy VII highlights interactions between humans, genetically modified beings (like Sephiroth), and Fantasy Worlds Collide features celestial/demonic hybrids (Bianca). This mix allows for exploration of themes such as identity, prejudice, and belonging. Sephiroth’s Jenova cells make him a bridge between human and alien, paralleling Bianca’s duality. Zack’s fully human perspective offers a grounded counterpoint to the complexity of these otherworldly figures. The interplay between these characters reveals varying degrees of humanity and power struggles within diverse biological backgrounds.

Point of Diversity 03: Social and Economic Classes

Characters with Speaking Parts:

Sephiroth (elite SOLDIER with privilege and isolation)

Zack Fair (mid-class SOLDIER)

Bianca Moore (nomadic survivor from unstable origins)

Description: Social stratification is a key cultural element in Final Fantasy VII. Sephiroth, though privileged as a high-ranking SOLDIER, suffers emotional isolation due to his upbringing in Shinra’s lab environment. Zack represents the middle-class worker striving to climb the ranks in SOLDIER and Shinra, embodying the aspirations and challenges of ordinary SOLDIERS. Bianca, coming from a background of displacement and instability, serves as a reminder of those left outside traditional societal structures. Their interactions highlight disparities in access to power, support systems, and emotional fulfillment.

Point of Diversity 04: Gender and Power Dynamics

Characters with Speaking Parts:

Bianca Moore (female protagonist with agency and power)

Sephiroth (male figure balancing dominance and vulnerability)

Jenova (feminine-coded influence)

Description: Gender roles are subverted and explored through characters’ interactions. Bianca’s strength and autonomy as a female protagonist challenge traditional gender expectations, as she wields celestial and demonic powers while navigating her vulnerabilities. Sephiroth’s internal conflict reflects the balance between his commanding presence as a SOLDIER leader and his vulnerabilities revealed in his connection with Bianca. Jenova’s feminine-coded manipulation plays on the concept of maternal influence turned sinister, contrasting Bianca’s nurturing yet fierce personality.

Point of Diversity 05: Sexual Orientation and Romantic Bonds

Characters with Speaking Parts:

Bianca Moore (demisexual, romantically connected to Sephiroth)

Sephiroth (pansexual, demiromantic/demisexual, romantically connected to Bianca)

Description: The inclusion of Bianca’s demisexual identity adds nuance to her developing relationship with Sephiroth. Their bond emphasizes emotional connection and mutual understanding over physical attraction, which subverts common romance tropes. This dynamic is further layered with their shared trauma and the mystical Red Thread of Fate, which forces a deeper, more spiritual connection. By centering a demisexual perspective, the narrative highlights the importance of trust and emotional intimacy in relationships.

[tenebraevesper]

Shatter Me, Entry 5: Shatter Me - Sonic X Shadow Generations

''Somebody make me feel alive and shatter me!''

– Shatter Me by Lindsey Stirling

xXxXxXx

Shadow's crimson eyes widened, their colour reflecting that of the sky, which was covered in dark clouds, thunder rumbling and lightning glowing in an eerie blood red light. Black and red alien-like creatures appeared from the clouds, dropping all over the city that Shadow had been observing earlier, causing carnage and destruction in their wake. Shadow could only stare in shock in disbelief as the realization of not only where he was, but also what was going on, hit him.

''Impossible! The Black Arms were supposed to be extinct!''

Somehow, he found himself back at Westopolis during the siege the Black Arms aliens laid upon it, but he didn't understand how this was possible. He knew that the Black Arms were gone, having not only personally defeated Black Doom as Super Shadow, but also annihilated the Black Comet via the Eclipse Cannon. Despite not acknowledging himself as such, he was the sole survivor of the Black Arms race, being a hybrid who had Black Arms DNA imbued in his person.

Nevertheless, having his memories fully restored and having resolved to protect the world in his own way, Shadow decided to put a stop to this invasion. It didn't matter to him whether this was some kind of illusion or if he had traveled to the past, he was not going to let Black Doom, or anyone for that matter, manipulate him again. Having made his decision, he skated off towards the city, fighting off any of the aliens that got into his way.

If the Black Arms are here, then Black Doom should also be close.

Shadow blasted a Black Warrior with a well-aimed Chaos Spear, continuing his chase through Westopolis, looking around for Black Doom, as he suspected that his supposed ''father'' might appear eventually and demand that he finds the Chaos Emeralds. However, something that he took note of was the fact that the streets seemed to be almost empty. There were no civilians running away nor G.U.N. soldiers fighting back against the invasion, keeping Shadow wondering. He was suddenly blinded by a flash of light, placing his arm over his eyes to shield them, and to his shock, he found himself skating through the Space Colony ARK, devoid of all life aside from one entity that emerged from a red portal.

''You!''

Before Shadow was a black and dark purple starfish-like creature with six black-tipped squamous probes and a brutally large red-orange eye in its center. Emerging from its eye and moving along its limbs, it had six blood-red lines. The dark hedgehog furrowed a brow, gritting his teeth as he glared daggers at what he came to knew as Doom's Eye.

''You are late, Shadow… We have returned to take over this pathetic planet you call home! Its annihilation is near! It is time to embrace the dawn of your demise and despair!''

To Shadow's shock, the space station around him started to break apart, with reality warping in itself, turning into a spiral-like landscape. Shadow turned his attention back to Doom's Eye, who was now escaping through the tunnel and sped up, determined not to let it get away. However, the ground below him gave away, and a kaleidoscope of buildings emerged instead. It was as if the world was falling apart and trying to rebuild itself again. He saw Doom's Eye flying past him, stopping for a moment as if to taunt him, before disappearing once again as Shadow fell back into a reality that was either the past or his own memories; he didn't know.

''Shadow!''

Shadow felt someone grabbing him by the wrist, turning his attention upwards and seeing Sonic holding his arm. The azure hedgehog was just as stunned to see the environment around them becoming more and more twisted, but nevertheless happy to see his rival.

''Brace yourself!'' Sonic exclaimed, suddenly throwing Shadow towards a nearby skyscraper, with the dark hedgehog landing on top of it. Sonic then used his homing attack to zero in on the skyscraper, skidding to a halt once he landed safely. Both hedgehogs exchanged glances, before looking back at their surroundings, which were a twisted reflection of the reality they knew.

''Sonic, what is going on? The Black Arms…'' Shadow trailed off when he suddenly spotted another newcomer to their little reunion – a light blue hedgehog wearing red shoes and carrying himself with a swagger Shadow had already seen in one other person. His eyes darted from Sonic's younger self towards the older one, who just gave him a confident smirk.

''It's a bit of a long story involving saving the world again… But, do you think you can handle yourself here?'' Sonic asked. Shadow gazed back at the warped image of Westopolis that was once again invaded by the Black Arms, before turning his attention back to Sonic, responding in an equally confident manner.

''Of course I can. I'll take care of this.''

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