#alternative views

[watchigtbj]

YouTube Takes Another Hit on Truth: Watched TB Joshua Channel Remove

[alexherringva]

Modern-day expectations for family life and how they may not fit every family.

Family life has evolved significantly over the years, and with it, so have the expectations that come with it. In the past, the traditional family structure consisted of a working father, a stay-at-home mother, and children who went to school. However, in today’s modern society, this model does not fit every family. With the rise of alternative views and lifestyles, the expectations for family…

[mythologyofthepoetandthemuse]

I really want to see the old souls of this world triumph, they have been through a lot (I surely know), so many misunderstandings and projections aimed at them from unconscious others (those investing in material things more than timeless values, evaluating appearances more than essence), but life when true and authentic is all about expansions, a psychological development, the possibility of self actualization, visions that transcend the mundane. Did I say it again? Ah, yes, I want to see the old souls finally in charge of this world. Will it be a new world?

~I have an old soul. At high school at fifteen, my schoolmates called me Patriarch Abraham. That’s very important, an old soul. We always retain traces of an existence which is not earthly, a state of abundance where we know everything~ C.G.Jung

[equill]

The Warden

Panel: No escape.

Ok, now just some silly ideas to share (playing around with the au)

Comic 1: Invading dreams

Extra: no thanks.

Comic 2: Unwanted attention

[ancientsstudies]

Dinner with a view, what more could I ask for?

ig credit: fvlyacelik.

[haenxn]

⠀ 🩸 ̶̵̲ ❤︎ 𝄞. ¨*:·. ਉl̈́ਉ .·:*¨ . ‿‿ ‿‿ ୨3

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ❤︎♬♪ ⁠❤︎♬♪ ⁠❤︎

[lets-try-some-writing]

Emergency Protocols

Cybertronians cannot be alone. To be alone is a death sentence. There is a reason they travel in groups, and with the war in its last gasp, their numbers are dangerously low on both sides.

Faced with a fate far worse than mere death, things are tense. Unfortunately, both sides are forced to endure a rude and horrific wakeup call when the first of many falls victim to the process they had all hoped to escape.

(Big warning for robogore.)

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━

“I apologize, Mrs. Darby. I am afraid I cannot abide by your wishes.” Optimus stood firmly, his expression dark in a way Jack had never seen before. Next to him, Ratchet watched the scene like a hawk, his eyes bright and intense to such a degree that Jack involuntarily felt himself shuddering. The rest of the Autobots also seemed frozen as they observed in quiet grimness that was so unlike them that it was almost frightening.

Something had changed over the last few months. Ever since the Darkmount incident, the team had been… off. Jack didn’t claim to be any sort of expert, but it didn’t take a degree to see that the bots were more somber. Even Smokescreen, the most excitable of the group, spent more and more of his time pacing. Every single bot was out of sorts, always hanging around the main part of the hangar and never wandering far unless directly ordered by Optimus. Arcee wouldn’t even drive Jack home anymore. Jack, Miko, and Raf were almost always taken home by his Mom or by Fowler.

The worst part, at least in Jack’s opinion, was the way the bots always stopped to stare whenever he and his friends left. Whatever they were doing halted immediately and they all paused, watching critically as they left the hangar to get a ride back into Jasper with Fowler more often than not. It was a small detail, but oftentimes they seemed twitchy when it came time for Jack, Miko, and Raf to head to and from school.

They were almost upset by it, if Jack had to guess.

“You are NOT taking the kids to go talk to Megatron of all people! What the hell is wrong with you?!” Jack wanted to flinch as his Mom screamed, her face contorted in rage so bright it almost had Jack wishing he could shuffle away. But of course, he knew that wasn’t an option. The situation was tense enough that even Miko was quiet as she held Raf’s arm, trying to find some comfort as the scene unfolded.

“You already keep them here overnight whenever you can! And now you want to bring them out to face the giant metal beacon of DEATH that almost took over the world?!” His Mom’s voice echoed in the base, but not a single one of the bots moved. They all stood quietly, stiffly, even as they observed. All that could possibly be picked up from them was the faint sounds of their engines running and the ever-so-slight twitching of their eyes.

The bots had always been clingy. Jack had never been able to figure out why they’d tried to shoo him and his friends away only to then refuse to let them go anywhere when they had a say in things. Looking back, it was like a switch had been flipped. The bots never let him or the others wander far. They were always observed and always requested that they stay at base longer whenever it was feasible. It almost seemed desperate now that Jack thought about it. The way Arcee seemed reluctant to let him go when she drove him home. The look Bulkhead shared with Bumblebee when Miko and Rafael were similarly ordered to be brought back to their families. The strange expression of terror on Smokescreen’s face whenever Jack and his friends left for the evening…

Whatever was going on was finally about to reach its peak. Jack could feel it.

“I apologize, Mrs. Darby. We need the children. We cannot allow them to leave unless they are traveling with us.” Optimus’s voice was surprisingly quiet as he finally spoke up. Almost too quiet. A faint rattle in his words left Jack nervous more than anything else. How often had he ever seen Optimus upset? Once maybe? Even then, it was moreso a look of surprise. 

“What in heaven’s name could you possibly need my son and two innocent kids for? Bait?” His Mom’s retort was venomous, so much so that Raf stepped close to Jack on instinct. He didn’t think too hard about holding the younger boy’s hand and pulling Miko slightly behind him as Optimus’s eyes shrank down, the tiny pinpricks of glowing blue becoming smaller than ever before.

“We need the children. They are of us now. We cannot allow even one of our number to leave our sight, not like this, not right now.” Optimus twitched violently. His entire body seemed to lurch as he gripped the railing of the platform, putting Jack and the rest on the Prime’s level. The metal creaked, groaning under his strength as Optimus’s head tilted ever so slowly, his antennae drawn back in an almost aggressive manner.

Jack fought back the urge to run as he watched the rest of the bots crowd around, each of them staring quietly and in obvious agreement with their leader’s words. What was going on?

“Optimus, what’s going on?” Miko finally spoke up, her voice shaking with a hint of a whine as she looked between the Prime, Jack’s Mom, and the rest of the bots. He almost wanted to smack her for speaking up and possibly drawing more attention to them, but he couldn’t find the strength to do anything other than pull Miko closer to himself proactively. Whatever was going on here was beyond them.

“Miko, Jack, Rafael… I am sorry you were the ones wrapped up into this… but I will not risk my people dying. I refuse to condemn one of my own to the fate that awaits us if we are left alone.” Optimus twitched again, this time so violently that a crack echoed in the base. Jack winced but didn’t dare to move as Ratchet pulled Optimus back, his eyes never once leaving Jack and his friends.

“June, give them to us now. We aren’t asking, this is a demand.” Jack’s heart beat faster in his chest as Ratchet took Optimus’s place, holding out a hand and glaring at all of them like they’d personally offended him. Jack paused, too afraid to move, until Rafael tugged on his arm, gesturing toward Ratchet’s waiting hand. Miko seemed hesitant, but she was the first to obey and hurry over to the team medic. Jack didn’t have enough courage to tell her not to.

“Jack, Miko, Raf, don’t you three dare.” His Mom’s eyes were wide and filled with fear. Jack wanted to run, he wanted to scream. But what was he supposed to do? The bots were all so much stronger than them, and from the looks of it, they were willing to do just about anything to get their way.

“Mom, calm down. The bots have always brought us back from dangerous situations safely. This is pretty much the same, right?” Jack tried to soothe his Mom, but he felt a deep dread settle in his stomach as he finally got onto Ratchet’s hand, soon sitting with Raf and Miko pressed up against his sides as the tower giant that called himself a medic began to step toward the rest of the bots. 

Jack was only given a moment to see his Mom’s terrified face before Ratchet’s fingers curled enough that he couldn’t see. He wasn’t sure he wanted to.

“Jack, do you think we are going to be alright? The bots… aren’t going to hurt us, are they?” Rafael clung to Jack’s side like a little kid, which he arguably was. Jack wrapped an arm around him in what he hoped was a comforting manner as he felt Ratchet begin to walk. 

“They haven’t hurt us before. I don’t think they are going to start now. Besides, this whole thing seems off. They seem to just want us around like some sort of good luck charm.” He attempted to comfort the younger boy, but Raf didn’t seem all that at ease. Jack couldn’t blame him, especially when Miko was sitting quietly for once, her eyes glued on the light of the groundbridge.

“They will be returned safely once talks with Megatron have concluded.” Optimus reassured Jack’s Mom again, but it did little to ease her. Jack could still hear her crying out as the team stepped through the groundbridge, Ratchet still holding all three of them protectively.

The moment they arrived on the other side, Ratchet’s fingers parted just enough that Jack could see through the gaps.

“Prime! You’ve finally arrived.” Megatron stood on top of the nearest rock formation, a legion of Vehicons all around and on the ground beneath him. Soundwave and Starscream stood at his sides, both watching with grim expressions. What happened to all the vicious eagerness Jack had witnessed time and time again when he’d gotten wrapped up in the bots war?

“Megatron, I appreciate your cooperation.” Optimus stepped forward, speaking for the entire group. Oddly enough, the entire team of Autobots huddled close together, each of them looking a second away from surging into action or having a panic attack. Smokescreen and Bumblebee seemed especially stressed, both hovering near one of the bigger bots for support. Ultra Magnus became a bit of a beacon as Optimus left the group. Arcee, Bulkhead, Bee, Smokescreen, and even Wheeljack all crowded around the Commander.

Ratchet remained about a foot or two away from the Autobot huddle pile, for which Jack was grateful since it gave him a good view of whatever was going on.

“Doc, what’s happening?” Miko called up to Ratchet, looking far more terrified than Jack had ever seen her. Miko was always one for battle and excitement, but the strange, unsettling aura of trepidation was evidently getting to her. Rafael wasn’t much better as he clung to Jack’s side, not even adjusting his glasses as they slipped down his nose.

Ratchet did not see fit to answer Miko’s question.

“Have you come to surrender at last?” Megatron cackled, his evil grin on full display. Jack personally wanted to cringe at the sheer ego expressed in Warlord’s tone, but he was more worried about how the bots were reacting. There was no anger, not even a hint of combat readiness. They just… huddled.

“No. But I come to bargain for peace.” Optimus raised his hands, not in surrender, but something more… friendly? Jack didn’t really have another way to describe it as the Prime kept his back to the team, watching Megatron like a hawk.

“There is no bargaining to be done here, Prime. I will accept nothing less than complete and total surrender.” Megatron raised his blaster, his grin unwavering. Again, Jack wanted to cringe or scowl, maybe both. But looking at Starscream and Soundwave had him even more concerned. They seemed nervous, and looking at the Vehicons, they also huddled together in a very similar fashion to the team.

This was wrong. Something about all of this was wrong. 

“Megatronus, enough. You and I both know that we are out of time. There are too few of us left. We cannot continue as we are. Sooner or later, one of us will succumb.” Succumb? Jack felt a hint of fear begin to seep into his body as he looked up at Ratchet, then at his friends, and then back to Optimus. All of them were afraid, at least to his eyes. Ratchet’s expression was sharp, his eyes wide and glowing in a way he’d never seen before. Optimus was unnaturally twitchy, scratching at his armor periodically as he spoke. Rafael and Miko were unusually silent, seemingly copying the team as they huddled against Jack’s side.

He didn’t stop them, instead holding them close as things continued to play out.

“You underestimate the fortitude of the Decepticons. We do not need your Autobots to ensure our survival.” Megatron hissed, anger blazing in his eyes. Those around him flinched, even Soundwave. Survival. This was about survival. That meant that something serious was on the line that Jack did not yet know about.

Why would the Autobots want to ally with the Decepticons for the sake of survival? They’d only ever done that when Unicron woke up. And even then, that was just Megatron, not the entire faction.

“You lost most of your Vehicons to the virus that plagued your ship, and many more fell during the battle at Darkmount. You know as well as I do that your numbers are dangerously low.” Optimus’s voice continued to rattle, his fingers digging into his shoulders as he clawed at his armor. The team made worried noises, but they didn’t dare move. Ratchet’s eyes widened even further as Jack momentarily looked up at him.

Numbers. Was this about the survival of the species? Last time he’d checked, Optimus had said Cybertronians were on the verge of extinction. But again, why ally with the Decepticons? Had Optimus finally cracked? But if that was the case, why did the Decepticons, minus Megatron, look so eager to accept the offer. The Vehicons kept edging closer, their weapons lowered as they fidgeted in fear.

“They’re scared. The bots and the cons are scared of something.” Rafael’s voice was barely above a whisper, disbelief in his tone. He hugged Jack’s arm tighter, prompting Miko to do the same. They were way out of their territory here.

“Not low enough to bring us to our knees. We will never bow before a Prime.” Megtron’s retort came spitefully. His words turned into a strange mess of sounds Jack couldn’t pick out as he ranted for a while longer. Jack assumed he must have been talking in Cybertronian, but it certainly still seemed to make Optimus more and more agitated.

“You are a fool! We are out of time, Megatronus! None of us are safe! Not you, not me, and not any of those under our command!” Something seemed to snap in Optimus as he threw his arms up, gesturing to everyone and everything with such energy that Jack had to blink a few times to see if he was seeing things right. Miko and Rafael physically recoiled as they watched Optimus start to claw at his armor again, creating deep indents as he grunted, bordering on a growl.

“Would you like to see Soundwave succumb? Do you really want to potentially lose your last loyal ally? What about the rest of your troops? Do you want to watch them suffer as base coding takes over?” Again, Optimus spoke, his voice shaking in a way that was previously unimaginable. His movements were almost desperate as he continued tugging on and scratching his plating, almost like he had an insatiable itch. Jack couldn’t see much from where he was, but Optimus turned ever so slightly, letting him get a glimpse of the wild and crazed look in his eyes before he refocused.

The bots shifted all around him, huddling even closer and even going so far as to hold onto one another. Even Ratchet shuffled closer to the team, cradling Jack and his friends but not once tearing his gaze away from the scene.

“Your ridiculous chattering aggravates me. I need none of your Autobots to keep my troops secure. But you need us.” Megatron's tone was mocking, almost like he’d won some great battle. Optimus responded in short order, even more frantic than the first time, but in a quieter way.

“We need each other. This war has gone on too long, and if it continues as it has, we are going to fall.” Jack found himself more and more afraid just listening to the sheer amount of defeat in the Prime’s tone. He looked… scared. Well and truly scared as he started to hunch over a bit. 

“Then so be it! I will never succumb! I am Megatron of Kaon!” The leader of the Decepticons cackled, likely preparing to go on into another rant. But he was cut off by a choked sound from Optimus, one that left Jack fighting back the urge to close his eyes.

“You cannot-” Optimus lurched, his limbs twitching erratically as he continued to make an unsettling gagging sound. His antennae moved in unsteady motions, his armor rattled, and his fans blew open as he clutched his abdomen.

“Prime? Are you alright?” Bulkhead hesitantly called out, prompting Optimus to turn around for a brief moment. Miko looked like she wanted to say something, but she shut up the moment the Prime faced them. His optics were wider than wheels, and his jaw hung open in what looked to be a silent, horrifying realization. 

“Sir, step back. A retreat may be in order-” Ultra Magnus also tried to offer a comment, but Optimus just twitched again, his erratic movements turning into fullbody shaking as his voice became pure static for a long agonizing moment. He clawed at his arms, tearing off pieces of armor in terrified, desperate motions, almost like he was too hot.

“N-no…. This… this cannot be my end.” Optimus’s words were choppy and frantic, so much so that Megatron’s smile was wiped from his face. Jack felt his own expression fall as he pulled Miko and Rafael back, his hand coming to rest on their heads as he felt the instinctual need to prepare to cover their eyes.

This was bad. This was very, very bad.

“Everyone! Get back!” Ratchet all but shoved Jack and his friends into Arcee’s waiting hands. They all yelped, clutching Arcee’s fingers as Ratchet stood in front of the team, urging them back. Between the gaps in Arcee’s fingers, Jack saw a sight that would horrify him until the end of his days.

Optimus was still standing, but he was contorted in such a way that Jack wanted to feel sick. He was bent over, almost like he was trying to perform a gymnastics maneuver only to be stuck halfway. Metal-looking structures jutted out of his spine, possibly his version of ribs. They shone with a sticky substance that hung in strands, still connecting them to the Prime’s body. His expression was pulled taut in what Jack could only assume was pain as Megatron all but screeched for his soldiers to step back.

“Get away from him!” The Vehicons didn’t need to be told twice before booking it back to Megatron’s side. Jack took the chance to cover Rafael and Miko’s eyes as Optimus, usually so composed, fell to crying out in agony.

“H-Help me! I-it hurts-!” Optimus clawed at his armor, wailing as he grasped his head, pulling on his antennae and scratching at his face and neck like it would help him escape whatever was happening. He looked almost feverish as his armor flared and his fans roared.

“M-my spark! Hurts-!” Optimus’s words faded into a scream as he frantically tore off his own armor in a spray of energon. Anywhere he could reach, he dug his fingers under plating and ripped them off. It looked agonizing, almost like he was skinning himself to try and release some deep pain Jack couldn’t even comprehend. Wires were exposed, bright and scarred gray skin like surfaces bleeding as the Prime continued to tear at himself. Miko and Rafael shook against his sides, reminding Jack to keep his hands over their eyes even as he watched on, unable to look away.

“What’s happening!?” Miko whimpered into Jack’s shirt, but he didn’t answer her. Instead, he held her tighter, fighting back the urge building in his gut to vomit.

“PRIMUS HAVE MERCY! MERCY UPON ME!” Optimus screamed like a dying man, twisting like he didn’t know where he was. He flailed before falling to his knees, energon leaking from his mouth, his audials, his eyes, and his vents. He choked and gagged, trying to scream as his spine tore itself out of him, extending and spreading as small rib-like protrusions rose like wings, making room for strange bulbous masses to form all over Optimus’s back.

All over his body, the things Jack assumed were bones ripped themselves out of Optimus’s body in jagged, terrifying snaps. Any remaining armor started to melt, especially around his arms and legs, as more masses developed there. The masses were gray but had a strange hue-shifting look to them that made them glimmer like the world’s most messed-up rainbow, all accompanied by the agonized wail of the ever-stoic leader of the Autobots.

The whole scene looked like it crawled straight from hell, especially as gray looking sludge started to form around him as his armor continued to melt right off and pieces of what looked to be his version of skin began to warp.

“I knew one of us was going to bud!” Smokescream shrieked, covering his face with a sob as he stepped back, only stopped by Arcee who barked at him loud enough for Jack to wince as her voice rang in his ears.

“Shut up!” Jack only tore his eyes away from Optimus’s torture long enough to watch the team start to panic. Wheeljack and Bulkhead clung to each other like the Rapture was on the horizon. Bumblebee had fallen to the ground, watching in shocked horror as Optimus continued to wail. Smokescreen was only held up by Ratchet, who clutched his arm so tightly there had to be dents.

Only Ultra Magnus remained firm, but even that looked like a fragile façade.

“There’s nothing we can do now. Remain clear of the containment area.” Magnus stood firmly, placing a hand over his chest in what looked to be a salute of sorts as the horrific scene continued to unfold. 

Megatron and his Decepticons just watched. They didn’t even try to fire as they watched Optimus cry out in agony, the masses all over him growing like tumors combined with the world’s worst allergic reaction. His face split like dried and cracked earth, letting energon pour from the wounds. The same happened all over his frame, internals falling onto the floor as his very body melted from the inside out. The grows just kept getting bigger, cracking and shattering whatever remained of Optimus’s skeleton. 

Jack had to swallow the bile building in his throat as Optimus’s limbs snapped, bending backwards and at odd angles the shouldn’t have been possible. His jetpack had long since been torn to shreds, clinging to the mass on his back like some sort of thorn. The Prime had another growth on his chest that left him breathing frantically as he choked on what Jack could only assume were his own fluids. Two more hung off his arms, each creeping along him like mold. Two others infested his legs, popping off Optimus’s tires and consuming whatever mass was there.

He never stopped screaming.

“By the Unmaker…” Megatron’s curse was just loud enough to hear over the cacophony of sobs mixed with howls of torment coming from the Prime. Jack hardly registered his friends shaking against him, crying softly as they listened. He was glad they couldn’t see. Good lord, he was so glad.

Optimus desperately tried to move with his shattered body, the Matrix shining through a gap in his chest where the growth had not yet infested. The thing shocked him relentlessly as he pulled himself along, trying to get to help. His eyes exploded like light bulbs, leaving him blind and in even more agony as his very jaw began to melt right off, unhinging as if someone had knocked the screws holding it in place clean off. His fingers swelled like grotesque sausages, the armor on them distending until they snapped and the fingers turned into nothing more than good and bits of wire.

The Prime kept crying, trying to reach but ultimately being forced onto his stomach as he weakly pleaded for aid.

“Help… me… please… brother…” Optimus lifted an arm, one almost entirely overtaken by the growth. He reached in Megatron’s direction, but the warlord merely shook his head in horror and disbelief. Not a soul moved, and even Smokescreen’s sobs when quiet as Optimus whimpered one final time before his throat caved in.

Jack wasn’t sure if he was dead or not, but he certainly hoped so, if only for Optimus’s sake, as his body continued to twist and be devoured by whatever was on him. The growths consumed almost everything, bulking and breaking off of Optimus’s mutilated husk once they’d eaten almost all of him. Jack couldn’t bear to look at the corpse as the growths started to squirm, warping and changing.

Forming limbs.

“Is… is Optimus dead?” Raf’s voice was soft, almost a sniffle. Jack didn’t dare move his hands away from his friend’s eyes, decidedly not acknowledging the way his hands shook or how sick he felt.

“I don’t know Raf.” Jack’s words were surprisingly calm, but he chalked that up to shock as each of the masses continued to shift and change, forming into... their own entities. One by one they came online, their eyes lighting up a brilliant blue as they stood on unsteady legs. There were six, five of which appeared to be of similar design. Only the largest stood out, its armor sharp and its body built with a degree of elegance in mind.

All six of the new entities assessed themselves, looking over their bodies. The five smaller entities all had wings, but more startlingly, they all had Optimus’s eyes, albeit with slightly different takes on the design. It was almost like they were related somehow.

Jack wasn’t given time to think much about it as the biggest of the six quietly moved to Optimus’s body, or at least what remained of it. The five followed, the whole group staring at the Prime’s body for a long moment before the biggest reached down, and pulled out the Matrix. The relic was covered in energon, and yet it still somehow looked innocent as the largest one held the relic up, presenting it to Autobot and Decepticon alike.

“Hot Rod of Optimus Prime.” The biggest one, Hot Rod, announced themselves with a stoic expression that rivaled the fallen Prime. The rest of the five soon joined in the chorus.

“Silverbolt.” One of the five presented themselves with a proud salute, their frame blocky and obviously still developing.

“Air Raid.” Another followed in their lead, copying the first.

“Fireflight.” Again, another of the five spoke out, and each voice that rang out seemed to make the bots and cons shrink in on themselves.

“Skydive.” 

“Slingshot.”

The last two exclaimed their names with both glee and a degree of solemn understanding. Jack finally released his hands from where they’d covered Miko and Raf’s faces, letting them see these new bots. They gasped, and Miko began to cry the moment she saw Optimus’s corpse. Jack didn’t try to comfort her. It was useless.

The six stood there, as if waiting for orders. They were without color, and their armor was still shifting like goo. However, they all looked up to Megatron; their actions synchronized as they spoke in unison, leaving Jack’s skin crawling.

“We are of Optimus Prime, and we desire peace.” They all spoke, but Megatron wasn’t having any of it. He shook his head, terror etched onto his features as he threw himself into the sky.

“Decepticons! Retreat to the Nemesis!” Without hesitation, all the Decepticons flew back toward the warship looming overhead, not even trying to take advantage of the situation.

The six, for their part, turned to stare at the team, Jack and his friends included. He could feel their eyes raking over him, assessing him like he was some interesting subject in a lab. He hated it. He wanted to be sick, to sob, and then to never emerge from his room again.

“We will continue our originator’s work in his stead. We will not allow his death to be in vain.” Silverbolt, or at least the one Jack assumed was Silverbolt, collected the battered remains of Optimus’s corpse. The broken thing was little more than a few pieces of melted metal smelted together into an unflattering slab. The only reason it could even be tied to Optimus at all was because of the cracked remnants of a face that stuck to it.

Jack wasn’t sure he would be able to hold back the bile any longer as the six all smiled, the biggest one who still held the Matrix, stepping forward like they were always part of the team.

“Shall we return to base?”

[omegalerc]

https://www.tumblr.com/souvenir116/771042600504508416/mama-slayy?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/souvenir116/771043118896267264/omega-presenting-okay?source=share

Ricky, it seems that Charles is in heat

CHARLES LECLERC PROFESSIONAL LEG-SPREADER!!!

[serpentface]

What are the three different afterlives, on the moons?

The afterlife consists of three lunar lands, conceptualized as being literally on the moons (which are correctly understood to be spherical bodies in a rounded orbit). The world is, in the common imagination, effectively a floating island and seabed in the middle of a vast cosmic sea. The seabed eventually drops off somewhere far into the open sea, and the cosmic sea in its totality is beyond and beneath this and and goes on infinitely (though if creation stories are taken literally, it can't actually be infinite considering that God is cited as dredging up muck from the bottom. This is a philosophical problem for the literalist minority and no one else). The moons, sun, and stars travel through the cosmic sky and sea in their daily cycles, in an orbit around the earth. 

The lunar lands are usually dark (they only experience full light in times when the moons can be seen in daytime hours), but they are much closer to the stars, so they never experience the same darkness as night on earth. In some branches of folk thought, the light of the moons comes from the torches and fires lit by the dead. The moons are protected from the extremes of cosmic sea and sky that they orbit through by the continuous presence of God’s soul (at the most dead-literal, this is conceptualized like a spherical bubble that surrounds the land/earth with the moons orbiting on its plane, but is mostly understood in a more spiritual, less logistical capacity) and do not experience the terrible heat and cold of each primordial extreme. 

---

The blue moon (second largest in the sky, has a very slight bluish tinge) is the best of three afterlives and the place for the most honored dead. This place is limited to people who performed great deeds in life, and very few people ever go here.

The only completely predictable way to get here is to be the dry season human sacrifice (which also makes you a saint), or being the Odomache. It takes great deeds to be declared a saint, so all canonized saints have gone here, as have most legendary heroes. There’s some doctrinal division over whether royalty goes here automatically or they too require the actual accomplishment of great deeds. Public opinion and general consensus veers, quite heavily, towards the latter. It’s resulted in a tendency for kings to perform lavish public works and building projects and instigate expansionist campaigns to better their chances.

The blue moon is a lush garden with palaces and homes built with lapis lazuli. A mythical blue lotus grows here that is said to grant everlasting life (*until the end of the world. there is no true immortality). Some mythical heroes (and characters in animal folktales) have been said to reach the lunar lands while still alive in pursuit of the lotus, but it has remained entirely elusive for the average joe. These lands are comfortably warm year-round, the rains are gentle, all plants grow in abundance and are always in fruit. It is thought that the souls of great sacrificial animals (those offered up in public rites, limited to animals that are specifically sacred) go here as well. The dead do not have to labor and all their needs are met with ease. It is a place of great serenity, rest, and happiness.

This afterlife is, notably, where the first men are enthroned (And Also Their Wives Are There). The eldest brother of this set is considered the most important saint (he is the one who actually performed the sacrifice of God), and all are effectively semi-divine (though not venerated), being the direct offspring of God via Its insemination of the cosmic sea. These first men are credited with actually shaping the world as it is today via the division of God’s body, and they now rule over the afterlife.

This is the best of all afterlives, but comes with profound responsibilities. The souls of the dead here are bound to survive the end of the world and will someday will be the ones to sacrifice the bodily reborn God, shape the next world, and become the progenitors and guides for the next people. All other souls in all other afterlives will not survive the end of the world in their present state, rather they will be returned to God and await reincarnation into a new human body after creation.

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The white moon (visibly largest in the sky) is where people who died honorable deaths and/or have spirits weighted as pure go. The easiest guarantee of getting here is to die in battle, or in childbirth (which is fortunate given the high rate of pregnancy-related mortalities). People who live honorable and virtuous lives, maintain spiritual cleanliness to the best of their ability, and follow right practice are otherwise the main demographic. This is the best afterlife the average everyday person can hope to end up in.

It is vast grassland eternally in flower, with ten rivers running through it. The sacred (and actually real) orange lotus grows here in abundance. Homes are built of moonstone, gardens of crops run between them and the maize can be harvested year-round and provides eternal and easy sustenance for the dead. Most time is spent at rest and leisure.

It’s thought the souls of ‘petty sacrifice’ animals go here (those offered for individual benefit, rather than in public rites for the good of the people/world itself). Animals considered to Have Value without necessarily being sacred are appropriate for these petty sacrifices (horses and fowl are very common) so there’s plenty of livestock here for milk, wool, and eggs.

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The egg moon (named for its slightly ovular shape to the naked eye) is the lesser afterlife, where people whose spirits are weighted unclean and/or did not die honorable deaths end up if they succeed in their death-journeys. Most people go here. This is not a Bad afterlife, just the Mid option of three pretty good ones.

It’s described as a vast grassland with five rivers running through it. It is very much like the world of the living, with normal seasonal change and cycles of plant growth. The dead have to labor here as they do in the world of the living, but without the risk of starvation or need to fight for resources. The land is fertile, the rains come and go as needed, the harvests are always good and the livestock are always well fed. All in all, it's far easier and more peaceful than life on earth.

It is thought that the souls of most sacred animals that did not die in sacrifice go here (so the majority of the world’s cattle, aurochs, khait, lions, cobras, hespaean, reed ducks, skimmer gulls, and albatrosses). The cattle and khait tend to be the center of focus, and there isn’t really a set concept of what the carnivores are eating, or whether the lions and venomous snakes pose any danger to the people there (there IS at least loosely a notion that the dead can die a second time and will be sent back to the cosmic sea to await reincarnation, though this mostly plays into eschatological beliefs and not into concerns of 'what if I get to the lunar lands and am immediately mauled to death: 2 by a lion').

This one HEAVILY overlaps conceptually with the Celestial Fields, with these aspects likely being influenced by a history of cultural exchange between proto-Finnic and proto-Wardi groups. In some folk traditions this syncretism is even more obvious via inclusion of Mak-Urudain guard dog figures (most Ephenni folk-traditions say that funerary guide dogs stay there to protect the cattle and khait from the lions, Ephenni Riverlanders straight up have a Mak-Urudain figure present as the First Ever guide dog who now protects the cattle all by himself, Erub provincial folk traditions state the dog constellation guards the cattle in all afterlives, etc), though this has no presence whatsoever in official doctrine. (On the reverse side, the heavenly cattle that the agricultural goddess Od brought to the Fields (to ensure ancestors can never starve if their shitty descendants neglect them) is probably at least Partly Wardi influenced).

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SOME NOTES:

-This religion technically views reincarnation as the ultimate fate of the dead, but considers this to only occur after the end of the current world. Eschatological beliefs are not even remotely central to this belief system (it's not a concern of the average practitioner like, at all, though raises to greater prominence during lasting droughts), but it’s assumed that the earth itself must eventually die and be reborn like all other created things. It was born from water and so will end in drought, then fire. All life and all souls but those of the most exalted on the blue moon will perish again and be returned to God.

God will be bodily reborn, and begin the process of self-sacrifice and creation over again. The survivors from the blue moon will become the first people, will sacrifice God, and build the next world from Its body. God will again inseminate the cosmic sea before Its death (releasing human/sophont souls to await rebirth), and will spill Its blood on the earth (releasing animal souls to await rebirth), and the world as we know it will begin again (but perhaps better, with the guidance of leaders from the previous world).

-most animals do not go to the lunar lands. All animals are regarded as having souls, but non-sophont animals were born from the earth (fertilized by God's blood) and are more intimately tied to it. The standard view is that most animals immediately return to the earth to be reincarnated upon death, though some can persist in the form of ghosts (not regarded as torturous for them like it is for humans, they're meant to be tied to the earth). Animals that make the journey to the lunar lands do so ultimately as assistants to humans (in the form of funerary guide dogs) or due to their sacredness (which also is functionally a form of assistance to humans).

-The afterlife status of any dog killed to be a funerary guide for the deceased is somewhat ambiguous. Funerary guide dogs are thought to at least Get To the lunar lands, but there's no consensus opinion on whether they can Stay There (unlike funerary khait and lions, guaranteed a spot due to sacred status). Most interpretations see the dogs returning to the earth (often to continue serving as funerary guides), but some death-journey stories describe the noblest and most loyal of dogs gaining entry along with their masters.

-All sophonts Recognized as sophonts (via the capacity for forms of intelligent speech obvious to humans) are understood to have been created the same way as humans and have the same type of soul, and to theoretically have access the lunar lands if they follow the same methods.

-The majority of people in this world, obviously, do not practice Imperial Wardi standard funerals, and are therefore regarded as Probably Fucked. It's accepted that any form of cremation is sufficient to at least send the dead on their way, but the dead who don't get the full Materially Correct Wardi Funeral Treatment will surely have a MUCH harder time completing their journeys (THEY DON'T EVEN KNOW THEY'RE SUPPOSED TO GO TO THE MOONS LOL!!!!!).

-The dead require substantial help from the living in terms of actually getting to the lunar lands (proper funerals, grave goods and animal guides to assist their journey, etc), but are considered fully provided for once they get there in the doctrinal Faith and most of its folk variants. Maintaining and visiting family tombs (holding cremains and grave goods) is usually regarded as being a matter of familial piety and honorable behavior (and also just being like, a way to grieve), rather than something that directly benefits the dead in any capacity.

Ancestor-worship practices requiring the dead to be continually provided for were Possibly first brought to the region by Proto-Finnic migrants (though it's not beyond question that some groups with longer histories here had similar practices) and have had impacts outside of this immediate sphere. The biggest and most obvious is a 'feast of the dead' holiday being nearly ubiquitous across the cultural spheres of almost All groups here. Among most of the Hill Tribes and some of the North Wardi, this is specifically a holiday where all ancestors return to the earth and are provided food, gifts, and warm clothing (it occurs on the winter solstice). Most in the Imperial Wardi sphere do not have 'the dead are capable of coming back down to earth and also need continual support in general' as a part of their religious worldview, but variants of this holiday have been so widely adopted that it's celebrated anyway. The most ancestor-worship free version frames it more as a celebration of life and a time to remember the dead, and doesn't involve the feast being left untouched until morning so that spirits of the dead can eat its essence before the living get to it.

-In all three afterlives, the dead are perpetually in the presence of the Soul of God (the body is the earth, and the Faces are Its living spirit, god fucking damn it I made a trinity,). This cleanses them to become spiritually pure beings (a state impossible to be in and only possible to Approach while alive), any sufferings of disease or curses they experienced in life are removed. This is regarded as a very peaceful and restful state of being.

-There’s no discrete Bad Place afterlife, but there's still religious avenues to regulate behavior via threats of a Bad Afterlife with the notion of being trapped as an earthbound ghost. Per doctrine, it's possible to have one's connection to God severed (usually via extreme spiritual pollution, which just so happens to mostly come from behavior considered morally unfavorable) which can result in the soul being unable to complete their journey and being trapped as a ghost. A dead body being allowed to rot or be eaten will result in this automatically, whether by neglect or 'incorrect' funerary practices (cremation is the only funeral method considered safe). Very widespread folk belief additionally holds that people who die from drowning or non-ritual suicide are also trapped.

Burial of the dead and sky burials are regarded as horrific barbarism, damning the dead to suffering throughout the afterlife. Cannibalism/consumption of the dead in any form is regarded as almost unspeakably evil. Mummification is Okay as a temporary solution if cremation is impossible, but not as a permanent one (it's not as strongly condemned since the dead can stay with their intact, un-rotten and un-eaten body and in theory eventually be saved, but it's on thin fucking ice).

An earthbound ghost is stuck in the location of their death, deprived of rest and feeling their body rot around them, and usually becomes dangerous to the living. It is believed that some earthbound ghosts can be saved, but this requires extensive intervention and is not considered to work every time. Many evil spirits started out as earthbound ghosts, and at this point are warped beyond any possible human intervention. Doctrinal end-times consensus holds that all earthbound ghosts will Eventually be delivered from their nightmare at the death of the world when their soul is returned to God for rebirth, but the average person is not all that concerned with the end times and being a ghost is probable millennia of suffering either way. The average person is very, VERY strongly motivated to avoid this fate.

[khaoala]

THE GANG IN: HOW TO MAKE THE TWO IDIOTS CONFESS THEIR FEELINGS PT. 1

Because there's nothing better than inflaming an already burning Sun.

[crow-caller]

Im not just saying this bc I'm a youtube person who does it.

MAN I wish it was more common for youtuber video essayist to upload their videos as text essays.

I understand it might be born from some idea of limiting views/profits if people just read your vids on a blog rather than watch. But there's so many essays I don't want to watch but would read.

There's a lot of book reviewers too who only operate on YT and not a blog. I get it. But I often can't watch a 2 hour vid but can read 15k words, y'know?

[webdiggerxxx]

꧁★꧂

[varreblogger]

i’m going to be honest the real enemy is people who saw a grown adult man using feminine speech/mannerisms and were like oh well that means i have to draw him soooo thin and tiny and waifish. obviously

[rhinoyo]

if i had a lame ass girlfriend i would hype her up so much i would make her wait outside so i could go in first and be like here comes the most specialest girl ever

[lunarharp]

What led to this (orufrey comic, cw an uncomfortable/creepy scene)