#black lava salt

[seven-deadly-dishes]

Hawaiian Pineapple Burger with Sweet Maui Onions and Homemade Taro Chips

via Pineapple and Coconut

[morethansalad]

Vegan Tomato Toast with Macadamia Ricotta, Shiso & Black Lava Salt

[pokesanriostims]

>> sueshappybakes

[call-me-strega]

Dc x Dp prompt #13: Hell to Pay

They say there are only two things certain in life: death and taxes. That’s why even the Joker doesn’t fuck with the IRS.

However, unfortunately for the Joker the other certainty is death and he has yet to pay his dues. Just like how he could only get away with tax evasion for so long, there are only so many times the Joker can dodge death.

Death is coming to collect, with interest.

And the Joker will have hell to pay.

~ A dark green cloud swirls over the city. From it, emerge three oppressive figures:

The one on the far left with flowing hair like white-hot fire. His vambraces made of (what appeared to be) molten glass stopped under his fingers, which then extend into into claws that seemed to drip lava. He had spiked obsidian pauldrons on his shoulders, fastening a luminous, stark-white cape to his shoulders. He wore a coronet of lightning and wielded a flail that appeared to be made of coal chains and a shrunken Red Giant star.

The second on the far right had a helm of dark iron wreathed in a plume of purple flame. His gauntlets and sword flamed with green hellfire. A pure black sheath seemingly made of void and a silver hunting horn were tied to his waist. He wore an armor forged of shadows and proofed with fear. He rode atop a mighty stead. An inky dark stallion with a curved horn and bat-like wings. His form was constantly slightly shifting depending on the angle which you viewed him making him appear larger and more slippery than he was, enhancing his disquieting nature.

The third stood in the middle, smaller but no less terrifying than her companions. Her hair was wild with movement, only just visible because it appeared as if someone had bound the winds to her head. She wore a tiara made of storm clouds and pearls. She carried with her a spear, the shaft crafted of amazonite and the tip of a clear quartz, almost reminiscent of sea salt. At her hip lay a whip made of a restrained gale and a sea glass knife. She wore armor that appeared to be Greco-Roman in origin: a chest plate made of some sort of coral-like material and a battle skirt decorated with metallic bronze feathers.

They slowly descent on the city, bringing down a sense of power and dread. They paused at the top of Wayne Tower, where the city's vigilantes had all gathered in an attempt to create and feasible plan of action to discern what these beings want. The young woman in the middle speaks and the wind carries her voice. She is not loud but it the whole of Gotham hears her words.

"Greetings, Heroes of Gotham. It is a pleasure to meet you. I am Spirit, Princess and Head Diplomat of the Infinite Realms. This is Samhain, the Fright Knight, loyal knight to the king,” she gestured to her right before switching to her left “and this is Prince Wraith, current General in Chief of the Realms. We come to you as the King’s Guard and entourage. We have official business in your city and wish to civilly notify you of our presence. The King will be arriving shortly and your cooperation would be great fully received.”

Batman moved forward to shake her hand and address the situation.

“I’m afraid that we prefer not to have unknowns operating within the city. Would you be able to tell us what business you have here? Perhaps we could reach an agreement?” Batman tried to negotiate as politely as he could. He did not want to risk offending the evidently powerful beings.

Princess Spirit’s smile sharpened as she thrummed her finger against her knife. She spoke again with an unnervingly pleasant tone.

“It appears you do not understand. We are not asking for your permission.” Her grip around his hand tightened. “ We are informing you.” She finished releasing his hand.

Batman withdrew his aching hand and regarded her with the beginnings of a protest on his lips. She didn’t allow him to speak.

“ This is out of your jurisdiction Batman. This is a matter of the Realms and the Afterlife. Whatever worldly rules or morals you wish to impose on those who enter this city do not apply to us. We will do our best to work within them, so as to appease you and to attempt to maintain a friendly relationship but in the macrocosm of the multiverse and afterlives you have no official power over us. Additionally, we have direct permission to operate here however we see fit from the City Spirit herself, Lady Gotham.”

Batman’s shadow seemed to fluctuated. His and his team's shadows moved from beneath them, closer to the Princess. Lady Gotham, though not manifesting, was making her presence and approval known. Batman could not deny what he was seeing. His team shifted uncomfortably behind him. He appealed to her once more.

“ I see that we can’t stop you. We don’t want to get in your way either. Could you at least tell us why you are here?”

She smiled as if telling a joke, “All will be revealed in time”

Suddenly, there was a loud noise that sounded like tearing fabric. The green clouds mixed with purples and blues and began to churn faster. The cyclone emitted a flashes of bright light. In unison all three of the King’s Guard lifted up from the roof and took place underneath the eye of the wind storm.

Spirit holds her spear aloft. With one swift, commanding move she slams the butt of her spear down, creating a platform out of solidified air.

Wraith bellows out smoke and ash onto the platform to discolor it. With ferocious and precise movements his claws to carve in a sigil, leaving a soft orange glow against the black and gray.

Samhain sheathes his sword and pulls his horn from his waist. He wills his dark stead to rear up as he blows the horn, letting out one loud prolonged cry.

The three warriors stand at attention and Princess Spirit calls the winds to project her voice once more.

“ Now introducing the Ruler of the Infinite Realms, High King of the In-Between, The Great One, The Benevolent King, The Peace Maker, The Guardian of Souls, The One with the Cloak of Stars and the Crown of Frozen Light, The Perfect Balance, Ancient of Space and Reality, The Infinite King: Phantom!”

With a flash of white light a figure appear in the center of the platform. Simultaneously, the three knights bow in reverence.

The King has arrived.

As the Heroes of Gotham regain clear vision they are met with a striking figure.

There stood a toned young man appearing both boyishly young, yet wisened and weathered. He had side swept hair the creeped to the bottom of his neck. His skin was pale with an icy blue tint. He opened his eyes to reveal they shone an electric green. Upon his head rest a crown made of a crystalline material, reminiscent of an aurora. He wore a navy blue cloak that had a rich purple hood lined with stark white fur. The underside displayed a shifting galaxy pattern. His under suit was the same midnight black as Samhain’s. He donned golden arm bands and a gold chest plate in style quite similar to Spirit’s. His hand were covered in snow white gauntlets that matched Wraith’s vambraces.

They all stood in awe, beholden to the almost divine figure.

The king sent them a gentle smile. It was warm and comforting yet sent a chill down their shoulders.

King Phantom began to fly down toward the center of the city, his entourage fell into step behind him. He hovered several hundred feet over Wayne tower and looked down at the city. He then spoke in a booming voice, his tone kind but commanding.

“ I humbly greet the Lady Gotham, her champions, and her citizens,” the shadows curled toward him appreciatively. “ I am grateful for your cooperation in our effort to rectify a great injustice. As High King of the Infinite Realms it is one of my duties to preside over the afterlife. To bring guidance, peace, and justice to the souls under my jurisdiction. Recently, it has been brought to my attention that there is a soul among you who has not only dodged death, but caused great strife to a vast number of souls who call for justice.”

On the roof of Wayne Enterprises Jason and Damian both stiffen, but remain firm in their gaze toward the king. The king looks out at the city and sparing them the quickest of glances. He continues onward.

“ The man formerly know as Jack Napier, now called The Joker. He has avoided death on many an occasion but his life should have ended moment he fell into a vat of chemicals. Since then he has sent hundreds more to the afterlife. He has long yet to pay his dues. That is why on the behalf of justice, restoring balance, and of my subjects I officially condemn Jack Napier.”

“Jack Napier, you have been allowed 24 hours turn yourself into our custody in order to be put on trial for your crimes in the Infinite Realms. Should you fail to turn youself in, we shall take that as an admission of guilt and acceptance to be punished for your actions. After the 24 hours are up, Samhain shall use his horn to summon The Hunt and we shall track you down.”

His gaze passed specifically over Red Hood, one of the Oracle’s drones, Nightwing, Signal, Red Robin, and Batman before he spoke his next words.

“All those souls who have been wronged by the Joker, both living and deceased, who wish to have a hand in their justice have been invited to join The Hunt if they so choose.”

The king lifted his hand, calling the swirling green clouds to his gather in his palm. The clouds swiftly rearranged themselves into a smokey timer hanging in the sky.

An impish smirk graced King Phantom’s face as he let out a malicious laugh and gave his final decree.

“ Your time begins now!”

[kingofthe-egirls]

SILLY IS THE NEW SEXY: GEAR 5 LUFFY x Y/N

(cw: sex, flirting, squirting, creampie, silliness)

(an: i can't stop writing about gear 5 luffy)

Songs: "Monkey and Bear" by Joanna Newsom

words: 2.1k

You have curves like the sea, and as soon as Luffy lays eyes on you, he knows you’re different.

You ooze sex.

It clings to you like a second skin, as if sex appeal is a boa constrictor draped around your neck. Glittering and emerald, luxurious and reptilian, with striking ferocity in every touch.

He can’t keep his eyes off you.

“Captain,” you say smoothly one night, enjoying drinks in the firelight, “You’re staring again.”

Luffy freezes, and then giggles sheepishly with his hand behind his head. “Shishishi, sorry,” he says, “M’not tryna be rude.”

“What are you trying to do?” You ask curiously, tipping your champagne back from its crystal flute. It tastes like sour cherries.

“I dunno,” he says plainly, and leans back on his hands. His legs are splayed out in front of him, sitting on the wood of the deck. He knocks his feet together. “I like looking at you, I guess.”

You stiffen, flattered at his words, before you take another sip. Stars flutter overhead. Blue velvet stretches across the sky, and the silver moon is only half-full.

“Hmm,” you tilt your head, pleased, “I like looking at you, too.”

He beams at that, and you both gaze at each other steadily. The waves crash and echo around the softly creaking ship, lullabies all around you. You let your gaze rake over him, boyish in form with muscular limbs and a shining face. Black hair under his straw hat, sticking out in spikes. You hum, appreciative.

“I like it a lot, in fact.”

You flush at your boldness, but only slightly. You’re no stranger to flirtation, and this is getting fun.

Luffy cocks his head. “Whatcha like about it?”

You detail the planes of his body with your eyes, gray and hazy in the moonlight. You take another sip of fizzy, liquid gold.

“Your face,” you say first, honestly, “It always makes me happy. Especially when you smile,” you cup your own cheek in one hand. He crinkles his nose, pleased, and looks off to the side. The silent question hangs on his lips: What else?

“Your shoulders are next,” you let your eyes fall over his muscles like a featherlight touch. “Your arms, your strength. It’s really impressive. I like when you wear red,” you move to sit on your knees, lowering onto the ground from where you’d been perched in a deck chair. Luffy scoots closer to you, too. He holds his forearm in front of you, and flexes. His wide hand is clenched in a loose fist. You let your fingers drift over swollen knuckles.

“Your hands,” you say softly, heat blooming in your gut. “You have really gorgeous hands,” you confess, and turn away before you can embarrass yourself further. You never knew the flirtation would get this far, with him sitting so close to you he’s radiating heat like the sun. You flick a lock of hair over your shoulder, and bump slightly into him. You clear your throat, “What about me?”

“Your curves! I like the way they look like waves,” he drags a broad hand across your waist, and pinches at the fat of your belly. “I like the way this rolls over,” he says, voice low, “I like the way your thighs shake as you walk. I like your ass,” he says the crass compliment like it’s nothing, like his touch isn’t burning hot lava into you. “I like the way you smell.”

“What do I smell like?” You breathe, already too far gone to pretend any further. You’re putty in his rubber hands.

He screws up his nose in thought. “Like butter? Or maybe…sea salt?” He licks his lips, “It smells tasty.”

“You smell good, too,” you blush, turning away. He knocks his shoulder into yours. You scoot closer, so your legs are touching. He hooks an ankle over yours. “Like tea.”

“Good tea?” He asks, and you nod. Tentatively, you lean your head onto his shoulder. He hesitates, breath held, but then relaxes into your touch quite naturally. He rests his head on top of yours, fluffy hair tickling your cheek.

“Very good tea,” you affirm. Your body is electrified, never having been this close to your captain before. “Do you like girls?” You ask abruptly, not wanting to tread water for any longer. You need to breathe.

“Mhmm,” he says, nodding against the top of your head. “Lotta people think I don’t, but I do.” He twines his fingers around yours, bringing them to rest on his lap. “D’you like boys?”

“Too much,” you chuckle, and sit up from him again. “Do you like me?” You gaze at him truthfully, letting your want and desire seep through into your skin. Your captain is clueless, but not that clueless. He regards you with a princely stare.

“Too much,” he echoes, and leans forward to kiss you.

****

Now, you’re suspended in midair, back pressed against the cabin wall, while Luffy fucks you senseless.

He’d brought you to his cabin, pressing your back against his door. He'd reached behind your supple hips to turn the deadbolt into its lock.

“Love ya, kitty,” he breathes into your shoulder, before scraping his teeth along your sensitive skin. “Love how ya move around like no one’s watching. As if anyone could ignore those fuckin’ curves.”

He grips hard at your ass, his other arm supporting your lower back. Your shoulder blades scrape against the cabin wall. He tastes like sea salt, and milk. You stick your tongue down his throat.

“Mmph,” Luffy moans into your throat, languid thrusts rocking you gently. He reaches down to thumb at your clit between you.

“So good, baby,” you croon, raking your fingers through the soft hair at the base of his neck. He flickers gold for a second, white hair foaming at the ends of his raven strands. “Luffy?” You ask, watching his eyes swirl rosy. He giggles, grin wide, as he speeds up inside you. Your stomach bulges with his cock, and he gasps in mad abandon.

“Look at that…,” he whispers, feeling the head of his cock through your abdomen. Your stomach is not flat by any means (quite the opposite), but that doesn’t matter for Monkey D. Luffy. If he wants to see his cock, he’s gonna see his fucking cock.

“Luffy!!” Gasping for breath, watching his dick thrust in and out of you like you’re both made of rubber. Little hearts sprint in circles around his face, little ducklings following suit. He giggles, and you do, too.

Your eyes haze over into gold, with pink flecks of light bouncing around your tits. “Fuck—,” you gasp, watching the now curly-haired Luffy grit his teeth and fuck you hard. He lifts you off the wall, bucking his hips up into your cunt from below. The sounds of his balls slamming against your ass reverberates through the room, before his eyes bug out of his head like cartoon hearts. He’s slacked-jawed, tongue hanging out of his mouth as a wolf whistle sounds from somewhere off to the side.

“Aaaahhhh, kitty, ya feel so—oh!—goood!!!” He wails with his eyes squeezed shut. His muscular abs clench as he pistons his hips up into you. His cock is huge now, cartoonishly big as he pummels up into your cunt. It slaps and gushes, your clit aching, as Luffy tightens his hold around you. He leans down to bury his face in your tits, sucking hard on your sensitive nipples. He rolls his tongue around them, before elongating the muscle to wrap around your tit like a slimy tentacle. The tip flicks at your nipple.

Electricity bolts through you, zinging up your spine and down to your toes. Steam is curling around your face, presumably pouring out of your own ears. Luffy is giggling, manic, before leaning backward to careen you both into the bed. He jackhammers up into you, sitting now with you on his lap. His long tongue moves around your tit, sucking and licking like an animated restraint. His limbs are rubber wrapped around you now, sparks flying from where your bodies connect. His cock is thrusting sloppily against your cervix, which usually hurts but with him slams stars into your eyes. Your body is as elastic as he is, apparently.

Your fingers curl into his hair. “Luuuffyyyy,” you groan.

“Haahahaha!!!” He cackles, slurping his tongue back into his mouth. He slaps your other tit with a smack that makes a sound like a spring.

He leans down to suck your other nipple, not wanting his baby to feel uneven. His lips wrap around your bud, soft and chapped as he plays you with his tongue. Slow, sensual licks all over your hardened bud send shivers coursing through you. Luffy giggles, before ramming you down hard onto his aching cock. His lips stay tightly glued to your nip, so it makes your tit bounce up and down like a fucking porno. Luffy crosses his eyes up in pleasure.

Sex with new Luffy is freaky as fuck.

But (surprisingly?) his silliness has in no way deterred you from your own sparkling orgasm.

“S’fun, isn’t it?” He asks as he pops off your overstimmed nipple. You nod, vigorously. You push him forward onto his back, so that you can ride him at your own haphazard pace. You sink down further onto his cock, letting him hit it from below. Your elbows are on either side of his manic head. Your hips rocket repeatedly down into his, both of you grunting with every thrust.

Steamy hearts explode in front of your eyes.

"So fucking fun," you say, searing his grin into your senses for later. You're gonna be thinking about this hookup for ages.

Your pussy clenches at the thought, of maybe not having this be a one time experience, as Luffy moans. He stutters, grabbing your hips in searing hands.

Captain Luffy whines, head thrown back in sheer joy. His cock is bullying your walls, smaller now but no less thick. He brushes up against your g-spot, over and over again. It feels like something is going to spring out of you at any minute. You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling the impending release of your shaky orgasm. A wolf whistle sounds off again, steam clouding the room. You gasp, as you cum.

“Luffy!!” You squeal, heat overtaking you as you shiver in ecstasy. “Luuffy, fuuuuck….,” you drawl out, dragging your hands over his sculpted chest. He’s heaving in ragged breaths, scarlet blushed formed on his squishy cheeks.

“Squirt for me,” he commands, thumbing at your clit in rough circles. “Cmon, baby, I know ya can do it.”

He presses down hard against your lower abdomen, twitching his cock up inside you as you ride him. You bounce your way to orgasm, screaming and crying for the whole ship to hear. Somewhere deep in your core, you squirt onto his lower abdomen. Luffy laughs, giddy.

“S’coming, baby,” he warns you, eyes dark, as his thrusts grow sloppy. He slams his hips up into you, cock thrusting against your sweetest spots.

So deep--!

“Yeeesss,” you breathe, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. You bury your face in moonlight hair.

“Ganna—,” he stutters, hips shuddering as he cums inside you with a violent thrust.

His eyes cross in pleasure as he spills his seed inside you.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

Luffy gasps, eyes squeezing shut as a wave of orgasmic, cosmic energy flows through him. He’s never had sex like this, before. He’s never had you, before. No way he’s letting you slip away, now.

“Say you’re mine, baby,” he says, sweating and panting as you both come down. His fingers trail along your hipbones. “I wanna be yours."

He's panting, his voice raspy and hoarse.

His hair is dark, now.

You watch as the last shreds of cartoon hearts fade out of existence around you. The steam has cleared up, too. And no more whistles sound. You snicker, "Sex is so fun, with you."

"Shishishi," he grins. And then, "Say you're mine, baby? Pleeaseee?" He whines up at you, and you snort.

"Sure thing, captain," you slide off of him, and he groans, "I'm all yours."

"Seriously," he pouts, poking your inner thigh. Your leg twitches, still spasming from the aftershocks. "Sex isn't usually this fun."

"Even after Gear 5?"

He smirks, "Steam was new. But," he looks up at you, wide-eyed and serious, "I really do wantcha, y/n."

You still, regarding him down the length of your nose. Your chest is fluttering, crazy butterflies going off in your stomach. "Sex is one thing," you allow, scared, "But relationships are a whole other thing. Seriously means you're serious with me. S'okay?"

Luffy nods. His grip tightens around your hips, as he sits up. "Seriously," he says, hand running over your thighs, "Silly, maybe. But serious." His face darkens, "And I don't wanna play games with you."

You swallow, and nod.

"Me neither."

****

[apiswitchcraft]

altars for titans and protogenoi

This post more than any of the others is going to be mostly upg or spg. Hardly anyone in antiquity spent a lot of effort worshipping most of these deities, especially the protogenoi, so resources are limited. If you have suggestions or personal addendums, feel free to leave them in the comments. I made a lot of decisions based on what the herbs/crystals are usually associated with: for example, black tourmaline is associated with Nyx (the night) therefore Chaos (the embodiment of the primordial soup and basically the universe) has black tourmaline too.

Also, all the deities on this list can be honored with libation of wine, milk, honey, and oil; offerings of meat or desserts; and burning frankincense/myrrh.

Disclaimer: this is not all of the protogenoi or titans that exist, these are just the most recognizable ones that have the most lore attached. I used theoi.com to research all of these deities.

CHAOS: the first to emerge at creation, the protogenos of the space between heaven and earth, and the air

Colors: black, grey, purple for the concept of chaos Offerings: feathers, burning incense, cinnamon, anise, cardamom, clove, black pepper, representations of the four elements Crystals: obsidian, tourmaline, labradorite, lava rock, angelite, amethyst Animals: birds

PHANES/EROS (the elder): protogenos of procreation

Colors: red, pink for love/procreation. blue, green for nature and creation Offerings: heart shaped objects, eucalyptus, flowers, egg shells Crystals: rose quartz, rhodonite, rhodochrosite, malachite, azurite, garnet, desert rose selenite Animals: birds

NYX: protogenos of the night

Colors: black, dark blue, purple for association with the night, anything galaxy patterned Offerings: blackberries, blueberries, plum, dew (morning is fine but after sunset is best), dark feathers, dark chocolate, night-blooming flowers (like moonflower or wisteria), black tea/coffee, mugwort Crystals: obsidian, black tourmaline, labradorite, moonstone (especially black moonstone), selenite, lapis lazuli, amethyst, smokey quartz Animals: owl

also, she is associated with symbols of keys and veils/cloaks

EREBOS: protogenos of darkness

Colors: black for darkness Offerings: dark chocolate, black pepper, black salt, charcoal, asphodel Crystals: black tourmaline, obsidian, smokey quartz, lapis lazuli, azurite, red jasper Animals: moths

AETHER: protogenos of light and the heavens

Colors: yellow, orange, white for sunlight. blue for the sky Offerings: sunflowers, bee pollen, morning dew, fruit, feathers Crystals: honey/blue calcite, yellow/bumblebee jasper, angelite, celestite, milky quartz

HEMERA: protogenos of the day

Colors: blue for the sky, white for the heavens Offerings: chamomile, sage, lavender, basil Crystals: angelite, blue calcite, selenite, celestite, milky quartz, sapphire

GAEA: protogenos of the earth

Colors: blue, green, brown for the earth Offerings: flowers, wood, dirt, anything from nature, really. doing good deeds for the environment Crystals: unakite, jaspers (various), agates (various), lava rock, tiger's eye, bumblebee jasper, jade, nephrite, serpentine, amber Animals: serpents, bull, pig, bees

OURANOS: protogenos of the sky

Colors: blue, white, grey for the sky Offerings: rosemary, sage, mint, leaving your windows/curtains open Crystals: angelite, celestite, selenite, blue calcite, moonstone, sunstone, star jasper, blue lace agate Animals: birds

OCEANUS: protogenos of the ocean

Colors: blue and white for the ocean Offerings: shells, gull feathers, fish scales/bones, sea water, pearls, sand from the ocean Crystals: larimar, aquamarine, turquoise, lapis lazuli, azurite Animals: gulls, pelicans, fish

TETHYS: protogenos of fresh water

Colors: blue and green for fresh water Offerings: lake/pond/river water, fish scales/bones, cattails, sand from a fresh water beach Crystals: larimar, aquamarine, fluorite, amazonite, petoskey stone Animals: fresh water fish, dragonflies

THEMIS: protogenos of divine law and order

Colors: white, silver, gold for law Offerings: thyme, rosemary, anything resembling scales Crystals: pyrite, bloodstone, smokey quartz, obsidian, alexandrite, lapis lazuli Animals: owls

TARTARUS: protogenos of the depths

Colors: red and black for the underworld Offerings: sulfur, saltpeter, black salt, charcoal, deadly nightshade Crystals: jaspers (various), obsidian, black tourmaline, bloodstone, garnet/ruby, pyrite (contains a lot of sulfur) Animals: bats, black dogs

KRONOS: titan of time, harvest, and abundance

Colors: yellow, gold for his scythe. white, grey for the concept of time. green, brown for fertility Offerings: grain, bread, clocks/watches, vervain, poppy, nightshade, clove, allspice Crystals: jaspers (various), agates (various), labradorite, quartz (various), amethyst, honey calcite, serpentine, amber Animals: snakes

RHEA: titaness of motherhood, fertility, and generations (like of family)

Colors: red, pink for motherhood. green, brown for fertility Offerings: menstrual blood, milk, red clover, raspberry, allspice, clove, cinnamon Crystals: rose quartz, rhodonite, rhodochrosite, amethyst, pink opal, jade, nephrite, tiger's eye, cat's eye, amber Animals: lion

PHOEBE: titaness of bright intellect and prophecy

Colors: blue, white, and grey for intellect. purple for prophecy Offerings: sage, bay leaves, lavender, tests/quizzes/homework, yarrow Crystals: lapis lazuli, amethyst, labradorite, howlite, celestite, moonstone, selenite, celestite

LETO: titaness of motherhood, modesty, and womanly demure, protector of children

Colors: pink, red for motherhood. white for modesty Offerings: raspberry, allspice, clove, cinnamon, lavender, flowers, Crystals: moonstone, sunstone, selenite, rose quartz, carnelian, lepidolite, howlite Animals: wolf, rooster

also, she is associated with veiling

ASTERIA: titaness of falling stars, night time divination, and astrology

Colors: blue, black for the night. white/galaxy pattern for stars. purple for magic Offerings: star charts, feathers (especially quail), lavender Crystals: celestite, selenite, star jasper, amethyst, azurite, obsidian, black tourmaline, labradorite, jade Animals: quail

HELIOS: titan of the sun

Colors: yellow, orange, white for the sun Offerings: anything that refracts sunlight, sunflower, st john's wort, sage, cow pelt, chicken feathers Crystals: sunstone, yellow jasper, honey calcite, carnelian, citrine, milky quartz, celestite, angelite, amber Animals: cattle, sheep, white horses, rooster

SELENE: titaness of the moon

Colors: white, grey for the moon Offerings: yarrow, moon shaped objects/food, lavender, night-blooming flowers (like morning glories), nighttime dew Crystals: selenite, celestite, angelite, moonstone, labradorite, smokey quartz, howlite Animals: horses, oxen, mules

EOS: titaness of dawn

Colors: blue for the sky. white, yellow, orange, pink for colors of dawn Offerings: morning dew, morning glories, lavender, yarrow, sage Crystals: rose quartz, citrine, honey calcite, yellow jasper, milky quartz, moonstone, sunstone, selenite, celestite Animals: horses, cicadas

MNEMOSYNE: titaness of memory

Colors: red, yellow for memory Offerings: forget-me-nots, myrtle, rosemary, jasmine, Crystals: jade, amber, turquoise, fluorite, red/yellow jasper Animals: animals with good memory, like an elephant or raven

PROMETHEUS: titan of forethought, creator of mankind

Colors: red, orange for the fire of creation Offerings: fennel, burning things, charcoal Crystals: bloodstone, carnelian, citrine, amber, jaspers (various) Animals: eagle

divider by @vibeswithrenai

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: On Colour

Describing Colour in your Poetry and Stories

BLACK Shadow Black, Dusk, Midnight, Blackbird, Blackberry, Ebony, Black Honey, Darkness, Jet Black, Ink Black, Soot, Onyx, Licorice, Ivory Black, Pitch, Char, Gloom, Outer Space, Creosote Black, Melanite, Goth Black, Gunpowder

BLUE Blueberry, Sapphire Blue Metallic, Tiffany Blue (Pantone 1837), Cobalt Blue, Denim, Aquamarine, Turquoise, Sky Blue, Topaz, Ultramarine Blue, Azure, Cerulean, Oxford Blue, Periwinkle, Electric Blue, Baby Boy Blue, Pthalo Blue, Robin's Egg Blue, Persian Blue, Marino Blue, Prussian Blue

GREEN Leafy Green, Olive, Moss Green, Jade, Lime, Sour Apple Green, Emerald Green, Mint, Kiwi Green, Phthalo Green, Praying Mantis Green, Viridian, Greenback, Shamrock, Sap Green, Chartreuse, Sea Green, Pistachio, Teal, Bamboo, Sea Salt, Celadon Green, Celery, Asparagus Green, Fern Green, Neon Green, Jungle Green, Pear Green

ORANGE Pumpkin, Burnt Orange, Carrot, Sunset Orange, Tangerine, Persimmon, Salamander, Tennessee Orange (Pantone 151), Jack-o'-lantern Orange, Florida Orange, Summer Squash, Pale Daffodil, Smashed Pumpkin, Saffron, Autumn Orange, Macaroni and Cheese, Cadmium Orange

PINK Pink Flamingo, Neon Pink, Bubblegum Pink, Salmon, Peach, Fuscia, Cotton Candy Pink, Rose, Carnation, Thulian, Apricot, Atomic Pink, Barbie Pink, Hot Pink, Amaranth, Flushed, Glitter Pink

PURPLE Lavender, Purple Haze, Grape, Eggplant Purple, Plum, Violet, Orchid, Psychedelic Purple, Amethyst, Lilac, Boysenberry, Mulberry, Wisteria, Bruised Plum, Indigo, Mauve

RED Blood Red, Copper, Maroon, Strawberry, Watermelon Red, Crimson, Candy Apple Red, Tomato, Brick Red, Scarlet, Cardinal Red, Cherry, Ruby Red, Coral, Sunburn, Hot Lava, Cadmium Red, Auburn, Blush, Alizarin Crimson, Fire Engine Red, Raspberry, Vermillion, Lipstick, Burgundy, Magenta, English Vermilion, Mahogany

WHITE Dirty White, Albino, Chalk, Alabaster, Cotton, Titanium White, Vanilla, Bone White Egg Shell, Marshmallow, Ivory, Pearl White, Almond, Champagne, Blond, Cream, Milky White, Corn Silk, Bleach, Navajo White, Ghost White, Light, Cloud White

YELLOW Canary Yellow, Lemon, Banana, Egg Yolk Yellow, Mellow Yellow, Chanterelle, Mustard Yellow, Corn, Goldenrod, Amber, Pineapple, Metallic Gold, Cadmium Yellow, Wheat, Tuscan Sun, Butter, School Bus Yellow, Yellow Ochre, Citron, Dandelion

BROWN Mud Brown, Beaver, Caramel, Rust, Macaroon, Toasty Brown, Coffee, Sandy Tan, Cocoa, Honey, Chocolate, Burnt Sienna, Mocha, Seashell, Antique Brass, Bronze, Brown Sugar, Chestnut Brown, Taupe, Burnt Umber, Khaki, Dark Sienna, Light Chocolate, Sepia

GRAY Stone Gray, Ash, Metallic Silver, Platinum, Smoke, Concrete Gray, Mercury, Steel Gray, Mist, Titanium, Charcoal, Slate, Sterling Silver, Tungsten, Old Coin Gray, Iron Gray, Chrome, Magnesium, Overcast

MIXED Candy Cane (red and white), Zebra (black and white), Chameleon (many different colours), Ladybug (black and red), Wildfire (yellow, orange and red), Tiger (orange, black and white), Yellow Jacket (black and yellow), Christmas Lights (red, white and green), Rainbow (red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo and violet), Black Pepper (black and gray), Leopard (spotted gold and black), Creamsicle (orange and white), Candy Corn (orange and white), Iceberg (a bluish gray), Marbled

COLOURS: Symbolisms, Associations & Psychological Effects

Black. Especially in Gothic literature from the West, a black colour choice often represents death, evil, grief, and depression. Associated with fear, the unknown and often has a negative connotation. Black clothes can make you look thinner. A black background severely diminishes the readability of most type. Often the go to colour for funerals and grieving. It symbolizes stability and power, which gives a sense of authority. Thus, the black colour often represents professionalism and expertise.

Blue. Has positive and negative connotations in colour psychology. Some writers may use blue to represent serenity and tranquility, instilling a scene with a calming effect. Blue can also signify sadness, melancholy, or isolation. People who find someone very loyal and faithful are often called "true blue". Blue is often considered to be more masculine which is why it is often the colour of choice when choosing a suit. Lighter blues are associated with tranquility, softness and healing. Darker blues are associated with power, knowledge and seriousness. Blue is actually shown to suppress appetites a bit. The colour blue symbolizes wisdom and hope. It’s the colour of peace and confidence. Blue has been shown to reduce blood pressure and pulse rate. It fosters serenity and a sense of belonging.

Green. The colour green often symbolizes rebirth, growth, peace, jealousy, and greed. Green colours may also represent spring and renewal. It is a colour that is very easy on the eyes. Dark green is often associated with ambition. Green suggests stability, safety and hope. At the same time, it may denote a lack of experience in a particular field. Green symbolizes peace, growth, and nature. It is the colour of success, promoting healing and tranquility.

Orange. The colour orange often represents energy, excitement, joy, and creativity. Since orange is the colour of fire, it may also symbolize heat. Since orange is not as aggressive as red, it can actually stimulate brain activity. It is very useful to catch someone's attention, which is why it's used a lot to advertise food and toys.

Pink. The colour pink symbolizes love, kindness, femininity, innocence, and playfulness. Certain shades of pink can limit aggression. Pink may be associated with unconditional love and caring.

Purple. Often associated with royalty, the colour purple symbolizes bravery, spirituality, and luxury. Light purple usually brings up romantic or nostalgic feelings; while a darker shade can make you feel gloomy or sad.

Red. The colour red symbolizes some of the most powerful human emotions, like passionate love or lust. On the other side of the spectrum, this warm colour is also the colour of blood, often symbolizing anger, danger, and violence. It stimulates the appetite. Red is an emotionally intense colour associated with energy, danger, anger, passion and determination. The symbolic meaning associated with the colour red is passion, excitement, and love. It’s the colour of urgency, power, and desire. Red is said to boost hunger and is believed to inspire confidence and excitement. This colour has also been found to increase blood pressure and heart rate.

White. This primary colour traditionally symbolizes innocence, peace, and cleanliness. In Western cultures, the colour white also represents purity and virginity, while it symbolizes mourning in some East Asian cultures. Usually has positive connotations when used and thought of as safe. Associated a lot with healing, simplicity and sterility, which is why it's used in hospitals and healing centers as much as it is. The symbolic meaning of the colour white is truth and sometimes even indifference. It encourages feelings of safety and cleanliness. Clean, white clothes and linens show sterility since stains are easily visible. That’s why doctors and nurses frequently wear white lab coats and scrubs.

Yellow. Writers may use the colour yellow to symbolize creativity, happiness, optimism, and warmth—think of a yellow ray of sunlight poking out from a dark cloud. A common negative connotation of the color yellow is cowardice, popularized by the phrase “yellow-bellied.” Warming effect which stimulates body and mind. Gold is associated with the highest of luxury. When bright yellow is used with black it's one of the easiest colour combinations to see from long distances; when uses with lighter colours it's not so easy to see. Yellow ribbons are worn as a symbol of hope and used quite often to welcome home loved ones. Yellow is the colour of warmth, kindness, and happiness. It’s often associated with optimism and well-being and promotes energy.

Brown. This warm, earthy brown colour may symbolize dependability, comfort, and a sense of being grounded. Brown is also a neutral colour, and writers may use it to represent dullness and predictability. Brown is a colour that is related to very grounded traits such as simplicity, practicality, common sense and hard work. Can also be associated with those that are frugal and not too flashy.

Gray. Lighter grays are often thought of as more feminine while darker grays more masculine. Gray is considered by many to be a neutral colour; the perfect balance between light and dark / good and evil. Pop up the lighter grays and add a little shine to it, and thought immediately turns to silver, which correlates to wealth.

Sources & related articles: 1 2 3 4 5 ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References

If these writing notes helped with your poem/story, please tag me. Or leave a link in the replies. I'd love to read them!

[rawdough]

So I've decided to make a little sideblog for CR stuff, I don't wanna flood my main with my little guys..

SPEAKING of little guys, here's a character of mine for the first post! I haven't had a little OC ask box open in years, I thought it might keep me a little more inspired to draw!

This is Black Lava Sea Salt Cookie, or just Black Lava Cookie for short. :)c

[tiredwitchplant]

Everything You Need to Know About Crystals: Black Obsidian

Black Obsidian (The Regal Warrior of Stones)

Color: Black, Dark Brown

Hardness: 5-5.5 (softer than quartz)

Rarity: Easy to Acquire

Type: Igneous Rock (Comes from a Volcano)

Chakra Association: Root

Angel: Uriel

Deities: Pele, Tezcatlipoca, Itzpapalotl and Sekhmet

Element: Fire, Earth

Astrological Signs: Sagittarius, Scorpio, Aries

Planet: Saturn, Pluto

Origin: Anywhere with Volcanic Activity

Powers: Protection, Grounding, Clarity, Releasing Blockage, Drawing out Stress, Creativity, Divination and Scrying, Negativity Banishment, Transformation and Absorption

Crystals It Works Well With: Howlite, Malachite

How is it Created: Obsidian is a black volcanic glass, formed when molten lava hits cold water or air and solidifies. It is composed of silicon dioxide (quartz) and many impurities which allows it to take different shapes and colors. Black obsidian gets it coloring from iron and magnesium.

History: The earliest obsidian tools can be dated back to the Oldowan, at the dawn of the Paleolithic/Stone Age (2.6 million- 10,000 BCE). Different origins of this rock can be found in Britain, Italy, Mexico, and the USA. In Egypt, obsidian knives were used in ceremonial circumcisions, as well as making mirrors (scrying mirrors for most) and other decorations in tombs. The word “Obsidian” was first used by a Roman explorer, Obsius, who “discovered” it in Ethiopia. In the Americas, Obsidian was used as a symbol of Tezcatlipoca, the chief god of the Aztec religion. Tezcatlipoca means “smoking mirror” which is why a lot of the Mayan priest used the glass rock for scrying mirrors like the Egyptians did. On the Eastern Islands, obsidian was used to make the eyes of the Moai statues before they were lost. The indigenous tribes of North America used pieces of obsidian to make arrowheads, spears and even knives by using an antler in order to carefully form different shapes.

What It Can Do:

Grounds the soul and spiritual forces into the physical plane, making it possible to manifest more spiritual energy

Increases one’s self control

Forces you to face your true self

Brings imbalance and shadow qualities to the surface to release them

Repels negativity and disperses self-hating thoughts

Powerful meditation aid

Great for scrying and divination as the glass allows you to look to see the “clear truth”

Can heal you after a spiritual or mental attack

Was used in the past during ritual for healing physical disorders

How to Charge:

Sit with the stone in the palm of your hand and enter a light meditation. Use your thoughts to charge the stones with desires of protection and make sure the thoughts are clear and concise.

Use high vibration to amplify the crystal

Use a singing bowl to send sound energy into it

Place it in a bed of Himalayan salt and let it sit for 48 hours

If you work with a sun or moon deity, I have noticed charging it in the sun or moonlight with the idea of protection helps to charge it as well

How to Cleanse:

Run under water (not hot just lukewarm) for a minute

Create a saltwater solution and submerge it for up to 24 hours

Burn herbs or incense over the obsidian with the intention of cleansing (I personally use sandalwood incense for this)

Leave your stone under the full moon to cleanse and retrieve in the morning

Bury your obsidian in your garden for 48 hours

How to Get the Best Out of It:

Wear a black obsidian bracelet. The wrist area is a highly energetic zone because it has nearly direct access to the bloodstream. This (in my opinion) is the best place to have obsidian to create a powerful shield and help with manifestation.

For lighter dosage, use an obsidian ring.

Crystal Grid:

Letting Go (Triangle Grid)

Mantra: “I release everything that no longer serves me”

Center Stone: Smokey Quartz Tower

Secondary Stones: Obsidian, Malachite, Rhodonite, Citrine

Best Moon Phase: Waning or Dark Moon

Best Day: Saturday

Sources

[dathomirdumpsterfire]

Chat writes the plot! Time for more 👑🐲🐟 KotD!

🔥🔥 don't forget to reblog tysm! 🔥🔥

Want to be on the tag list? -> Comment with 'tag me!' Have an idea for next chapter or clicked the wrong option? -> Reblog about it! Check the bottom for the Ao3 link. Latest chapter is below the cut!🔥

~King of the Dragonfish: Chapter 16 ~

When he returns from hunting treasure to find the cave empty of jedi, his scream of rage is enough to make the walls shudder and rain with scree. Maul reaches out in the force, throwing a wide net of energy out with the intent to hunt Kenobi and drag him back here. Retribution would be paid in blood for this-

He finds the jedi's energy signature just a little ways away, stationary. Lambent. The sith is brought up short, confused. Taken aback even.

Was this an escape attempt… or not?

Lashing down on his rage, setting aside judgment for a moment, Maul leaves his pot and box on the shore, and returns to the water to seek the jedi through the force. He swims fast and true for less than a minute, left and right and around…

The dragonfish sith breeches the pocket of his own bedroom cave, and rises up in a quiet rush of shedding water. Kenobi is here? Here? He went wandering, but not to his lightsaber or the surface, but here?

Maul sways his way through the caves and comes up on his own bed. There the jedi lies, buried under makeshift blankets, curled in on himself, shivering.

The sith looks around in disbelief. There on the shelf of his nightstand is his saberstaff, he leans close sniffing… not a trace of skin scent on it. Kenobi had not come looking for a weapon to kill him with then.

The last embers of his rage dowse themselves as he returns his attention to the cold little ball of stewjon.

“Jjjedi,” he whispers thoughtfully, running his claws through salt-crisp hair. “Always leaving behind the heat you need, awake or asleep. What a pathetic thing you are.”

Maul withdraws, considering the situation. Either Kenobi needed to be brought to heat, or heat needed to be brought to Kenobi. He ponders it briefly, but easily decides that he likes the jedi to be in his bed.

He goes, gathers the magma ball from the second prison cave, and returns. It is cooled somewhat, so he slices it in half with his saber like an orange, revealing the cherry red center. The freshly unmasked lava blooms with heat, rapidly forming a new black crushed shell on its surface.

Maul situates one of the halves just so, pointing it's radiant heat toward the bed. Then, he climbs in, finding his way under covers to drag his Kenobi to him. He discovers bare skin, offering him easy access to touch new places. The variety of textures is fascinating.

Predictably, when faced with heat and weight and a living body, the jedi seeks him out like a plant turning to the sun. Limbs unclench and the ball of him eases open. Arms come winding around his back, and a scruffy face presses to his shoulder.

Kenobi sighs with contentment at his presence, and Maul feels… he feels…

The words for this. These too are missing from his memory of before. Or perhaps he never had them.

Darth Maul draws his prisoner close, and waits for him to wake. The other man’s force signature brightens at one point, perhaps touching consciousness, but he drifts back down again without a word.

It is hours before the jedi truly stirs, groaning at the back of his throat as he peers blearily around.

“Kenobi,” Maul says, catching the man's chin in his fingers and drawing that watery gaze toward him.

The jedi blinks a few times, focus slow to resolve. “Where am I?” he asks.

He hums, fingers playing through that ginger beard. Soft. So soft. “Where you are meant to be.”

With a muddled huff, Kenobi turns to look around, not satisfied with his answer. “I remember getting bored and going exploring, and then I found a cave with… things. Art and trinkets… was I dreaming?”

“Mmno,” the sith denies, “you have found my cave, and put yourself in my bed. This is... good.”

The jedi scrubs a hand over his face, and back through his hair. Maul runs a hand down his bare side, then back up again.

“Sorry. I'm… not really parsing anything,” Kenobi replies.

Maul scoffs, “Because you left the heat, again. You are too weak to survive the cold. I have scolded you before but you did not listen. Hear me now: I forbid you from leaving warm places again unless I am there to watch you.”

Kenobi sloughs back down, loose limbed in his hold. “...”

“Jedi,” he says warningly at the silence, leaning in toward the other man's face. “Obey me.”

That tired, watery blue gaze lifts to his. “Mmnnn?”

So unfocused. So soft and pliant. Irresistible.

Maul’s eyes are drawn to chapped pink lips where the lower one is loose and slightly parted from the top. He doesn't question the stray desire to taste the cracked texture of it. The sith presses close, licking those lips, slipping his tongue inside a slack mouth.

“Ah,” Kenobi says softly, letting him take what he wants. His smooth tongue slides against Maul's, reactive to the languid stroking of his.

The dragonfish sith runs his claws gently down the back of his prisoner, careful not to cut unintentionally, until back becomes backside. He cups the handful of curve, squeezes and pulls, drawing their hips closer together.

The jedi turns his head away, hiding in Maul's neck. “Please, I don't…”

“Hnn?” he asks, enthralled with the way Kenobi’s soft belly and scattering of body hair felt against his own smooth stomach.

“Just hold me and let me sleep. I just want to rest,” the man pleads softly.

He tsks, “If you would stay where I put you, your strength would not wane.”

Kenobi sighs gustily, relaxing when Maul's hand returns to petting the pale flesh of him higher up. Straying places that are personal, but not quite so personal. The jedi comes back out of hiding when the trend continues. His eyes look like they struggle to stay open.

“I have gifts for you,” Maul tells him, “To earn your favor.”

“It isn't something that can or should be earned with material things,” Kenobi mumbles.

“Jedi drivel,” he counters. “Nice and necessary things are a fair measure of who to show favor to.”

Unable to help himself, the sith's claw skim just a little lower, teasing the sensitive line of skin between the other man's low back and ass. Kenobi groans, and his hips rock.

“Nng,” the pale man says simply, brows drawing faintly upward in pleasure.

Maul kisses him again, far more gently than he deserves, then settles down. “Sleep, Kenobi. Regain your strength. When you wake I will show you your gifts.”

For once, the witless jedi does as he's told.

To be continued...

-Tag list- (Comment if you want added!)

@obimaulartfire @savageopressbignaturals @icequeen8043 @moonsickvampire @maulish @obi1-kenobae @milkcioccolato @cyborg0109 @messy-sunbeam @krazykupid

New? Start from Chapter 1! 👇🏽

[newbornwhumperfly]

consider the color of the water...

yeah, yeah, it's a metaphor for grief again, whatever. this was really heartbreaking to write but am so excited to share regardless 😭🥺😭 this chapter of my story is fulfilling @whumpmasinjuly - day 21: abandoned - prompt because...ouch. 🥺🥺🥺

CW: institutional whump, abandonment trauma, allusions to child abandonment, allusions to familial separation, nightmares, just a shitload of vague but painful emotional family-centric angst

title insp. by this quote by abigail dewitt - "in the midst of a flood, consider the color of the water."

~

The walls are very loud here. That’s how it feels, anyway. He's small, he knows, but the waves are so tall and he wants to hold a hand tight because crowds are loud here and the waves are loud and it’s hard to listen. But he's old enough to walk by himself, he's (eleven) big and good and adult hands are full.

He needs to listen. 

Wailing echoes out from up above, squirming, writhing. Lehua is crying again. She cries so loud these days but it’s not her fault. Morja tries to be nice - she's so little. The loud probably hurts for her too and she's sticky, sweaty, nose running, eyes streaming, as they shuffle from hallway to hallway.

Everyone speaks short and sharp and the sounds lap against eachother and over eachother and make a rush sound. Little bits fall away from the big humming water-rush-noise, understandable, simple, stony.

Papers.

Child.

Sit.

Money.

Wait.

Yes. 

No. 

Yes.

Hold her for me, Morja, just for a moment? I need to talk to this man for a minute.

Morja blinks and nods as words-in-a-string make sense again, holding out his arms for the bundle of Lehua, who wriggles, fish-like, little shirt bunching up around the armpits and Morja waggles her toy, the clack-clack-clack of the wooden rings sliding together. 

"Lehea, ‘eā? Nānā? E ‘ike i ka wikiwiki hiki iā mākou ke ho‘opa‘a."

A whisper, shhhhhh, the hush of the ocean. 

‘Ōlelo is for at home. Not here. Not the big white waiting room or the smaller white interview room or the little white chairs. Morja remembers, he knows, but Lehua calms at the words she knows best.

The floor is tile and cold and white stone. 

Clack-clack-clack, stacking, Morja uses his shirt to scrub at Lehua’s face, the tears hot and her nose all warm and sniffly, straightening her shirt even as he stares down at the wet patches on his own. Frowns. It will stain. 

Morja remembers it's okay for clothes to stain. 

She’s too little to know not to ruin clothes. That clothes cost money, so much of it. That cleaning costs money, so much, and Mama doesn’t have it. 

The back of a green scarf is very still and very quiet, listening very quiet and very still, and Morja is very still and quiet, following the lead, and Lehua is loud and wriggling but that’s fine. She stacks the wooden rings one by one and Morja lets her win because she would never beat him if he didn’t let her win. 

His name?

Morja.

The baby? 

…Marigold.

There is an orange flower in Maku- in Mama’s book, long spikes, bright and pretty, sprouting out the black lumps where lava dried. The book-flowers don’t look like the ones in the flower shop to Morja. His baby sister doesn’t look like a flower at all anyway. But it’s pretty and Mama says that marigolds looked like ‘ōhi’a to her, reminded her of the tree the first time she saw it. 

Is Lehua that flower, Mama? Or is it the tree?

Both. Either. That’s nice, isn’t it, Morja?

Lehua doesn’t look like anyone here. She doesn’t sound like anyone here. Only the people who are loud and talk so sharp and slow to Mama, which is mean, because she’s so tired. 

The voices are loud and the wave was so high. 

It’s high and dark and it’s darker than even the sky, a rolling carpet of dark meant to swallow them up and it did, it did, the water went over their heads and gulped them down and then it spat them out. Spitting up the salt and cold and dark that you woke up full of. It spat you out and you spat it out too. 

Such a big hungry water. 

(You understand, correct, that your signature is a termination of all parental rights going forward, as well as the right to sue or claim restitution beyond what has been offered in contract. This has all been explained to you?

Yes.) 

Lehua screams and her crying, flushed and sweaty and sobbing, is a wave that covers every other word. 

-Going.

-Stay-

-Be good.

-Love-

-Little while-

English. Greek. Only them. Remember? 

-good. And polite to them. Good boy, know you are-

-Love-

The white room swallows him whole. 

Does it? 

No. He is just alone, in the white chair at the white table, and the green scarf, looped like seaweed around her head, is floating away. It does not turn around. She does not turn around. Her face is a puddle that shifts its borders and swims and won’t go still. 

Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to take that baby outside if you can’t make her be quiet, you understand?

Ma’am, Mama, Maka?

Lehua, Marigold, a flower swept up in her arms, sobs as she’s swept out to sea, no, in the arms, and he watches it go. The tide sweeps in…and out. It always sweeps in again. 

The walls are so high. He’s so much smaller than the walls. The wave is high and it only sweeps out. 

When will you pick me up?

Soon as I - You have to be good until - okay? Promise me - be good until - come and get - wait - I will pick you up. 

Black rolls in through the mouth of the open door, drowning the crying, the scarf, the white chairs, swallowed whole.

The only thing that picks him up is the wave.

/ / / / / / / /

Morja wakes up. 

Jolts into a curl, protect stomach-chest-organs. Breaths rocking through his chest, fast, sharp, in-out-in-out-in-out.

Soaked in sweat, wet and damp and ruining the sheets. 

Fuck. 

It’s always water. Fuck. Only the water swirls in Morja’s memory, everything else washed away as he drags in air like he was underwater and that’s fucking stupid. 

In a sudden terror, panic seizing his chest, Morja stands and strips the sheets of his bed. The bed. The room he has been given, the bed he is sleeping in, the sheets he needs to keep clean. Morja clutches the tangle of bedclothes to his chest and tries to steady his breathing, sinking to a sit. He has practice and he can go from shaky to still in a moment. 

He can be good at what he puts his mind to. 

His obedience to. 

In…out. 

The tide.

No. Air, breathing, that’s what this is. There is ground under his feet, cool and tile, pressing his hands against his eyes on the edge of the bed and he's fine. He is being good and he is fine.

The walls, the ceiling, the floor, all the color of freshly poured cement, neat and smooth and warm under the light spilling out from the bathroom. Bed, table, chair, lamp, cords, hamper, silver vent painted to match the wall, covered bulb in the ceiling. Cabinet, closet, desk.

Brown and tan and green.

Morja’s hands, without tremor, strip the pale green cases off the pillows, the sheets, the deep mossy blanket cover, fold them into bundles in his arms. Strips off his boxers, wet through. 

Laundry will be good. Cleaning will be good. Showering will be good. He can wash all the salty stickiness away and replace it with the favors he's been gifted - the sharp-scented gel deodorant, the soap that smells like leaves and scrub-brushes, the things he can only assume are in every room of this base because people like him don't have eucalyptus and mint and vanilla.

If he scrubs the shower, if he launders the sheets, he can go eat. Yes. He doubts he could stomach any of the free breakfast he has been told he can just take, not unless he does his tasks. He must have tasks - if he doesn't, he will ask for some.

His heart won't calm until the scent of bleach and detergent fills his nose, the pounding in his temples like a heartbeat to him now. A thing that should be there. Like the gnaw in his belly. Like when he was too busy to dream.

Morja doesn't leave his room until the spigots are sparkling, the tiles gleaming brighter than ever, an arm full of washing and his head thudding dully.

He can't smell any salt now, just clean and hurt, and water in pipes.

~

yeah, sorry, my heart broke too... 🥺💔😭

the namesake of morja's baby sister, lehua, which is the 'ôhi'a lehua, a plant endemic to several islands in hawai'i (which, in the world of this story, has been renamed "raetea" by the colonial efforts of new athens). morja's mother gave lehua and morja new names that sounded greek/english to better assimilate, choosing "marigold" for lehua because the color reminded her of the lehua (also, the plant is the first to sprout out of lava...rebirth symbolism...) 🥺

morja's new name comes from a bullshit greek name - morea - that was plastered onto one of the islands (based on an old name for peloponnese, an old peninsula in ancient greece, once called "the despotate of morea"). someone told morja's mother that it meant "mulberry" for the trees of the region and she found that idea beautiful. morja's birth name he cannot remember and he doesn't try to remember but it was precious to those who gave it to him. 💔

(glossary: makuahine - mother, 'ôhi'a lehua - a species of hawaiian flower, "Lehea, ‘eā? Nānā? E ‘ike i ka wikiwiki hiki iā mākou ke ho‘opa‘a." - "Lehea, hey? Look? See how fast we can stack", 'ōlelo - also called 'ōlelo hawai'i is the indigenous language of the hawaiian people.)

resources i used for the 'Ōlelo Hawai'i (the indigenous Hawaiian language) are from here and here - if anyone has any corrections if i got something wrong, please let me know! 💖

taglist: @much-ado-about-whumping @haro-whumps @whump-tr0pes @i-eat-worlds @whumpzone

@whumpthisway @whumping-every-day @stoic-whumpee @redwingedwhump @straight-to-the-pain

@wolfeyedwitch @kixngiggles @liliability @tears-and-lilies @suspicious-whumping-egg

@scoundrelwithboba @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @whatgoeswhumpinthenight @whump-me-all-night-long @whumpster-draganies

have a very merry @whumpmasinjuly everyone! 💖💖💖

@whumpmasinjuly-archive

[stinkysam]

Eddie Brock - Salt lamp

Warning : Human eating

Genre : fluff

Synopsis : Eddie and MR have been dating for a bit but he was never invited back to Eddies place. But when he does he notices Eddie strange and even talking to himself and when MR is on his way home he is about to get mugged until Venom saves and Eddie reveals the full truth.

Reader : gender neutral (you/yours)

A/N : bold is Venom talking

"Welcome to me casa." Said Eddie, opening the door for you to get in.

They had cleaned everything in two days and a half, repairing and getting rid of anything that wasn't normally found in a normal flat.

You entered and instantly got curious about his room. Did he have any posters ? Was he a salt lamp or lava lamp type of guy ?

"Can I see your bedroom ?"

"Sure. Let me show you." He said, walking before you.

His place was absolutely… normal looking. Nothing weird or out of the ordinary. Almost boring.

The only thing that stopped it from being boring is that it seemed to make Eddie talk to himself more.

"No, not now V."

"Not now what ?"

"Nothing. Nothing."

And it was not the first time this happened. Just, today you remembered all the times you caught him talking to himself.

At first it was just funny and endearing. But now it feels a bit weird. Was there something he did not tell you ?

You said nothing and waved it off. A problem for another day.

You spent the whole day together, cuddling on his couch as you spoke about nothing and everything. Then it was time for you to go back home.

"What if you stayed here to eat with us ?"

"Us ?"

Fuck.

"...me and the bugs ?"

Good save.

"What bugs ?"

"The ones in the walls ?"

"Well done Eddie, everyone has bugs in their walls." Spoke Venom in Eddie's head.

You looked at him, confused but said nothing, agreeing to his suggestion.

"Alright, I'll eat with y'all then."

"The bugs and I say thank you." Eddie said, kissing you.

"Mhmh."

You cooked and ate together before it was really time for you to leave, the night was already there.

You kissed him goodbye a few times, and a few more times before finally leaving.

Everything felt alright, the best day ever.

Until you felt something sharp and hard touch your back and then someone.

"Give me your wallet. Don't do anything funny."

You gulped hard at the voice, hands shaking as you slowly reached for your pocket. Then you remembered… you didn't take it with you this morning. You left it at home.

Fuck.

"I don't have it."

Is this how you die ?

From a mugger ?

His knife poked you, shaking you out from your thinking.

"Nice try-"

You mentally prayed to any God to hear you and save you and then you heard something that sounded like someone falling behind you, the knife no more on your back.

"Wha-"

Then you heard something crack. Bones. Followed by more cracking and squelching as you turned around. Your eyes grew wide as you screamed at the sight. A lifeless and headless body lying on the ground as a big black humanoid monster stood in front of you.

"No no no no it's me !" Said a voice as suddenly Eddie's face appeared from inside the monster.

"Oh my god it ate you !"

"No, I'm fine, look !"

And within seconds the black monster was gone, looking like it was absorbed by Eddie.

"What was that ?! Did you eat him ?!"

"It was Venom, my symbiote, he eats people sometimes. Not always. Not if I tell him to."

"Your symbiote ? Okay." Your eyes were still wide, shock evident on your face as you tried to swallow down the information. You wanted to puke, the blood from the man slowly spreading and reaching your shoes.

"Are you okay ?"

"Huh… I don't know, are you gonna eat me too ?"

"No, of course not. Never."

"Are you sure ?"

"Of course, love. I wanted to tell you but I didn't know how. I'm sorry. Are you okay ?"

"Yeah… yeah… can we… can we go back to your place ?"

Eddie stared at you. "Sure."

"And you'll tell me more about huh… Venom ?"

"Of course. He's huh. Happy to hear you want to know him."

[right-hand-of-the-black-sand]

Okay, so I'm pretty sure that everyone who's watched the Mozenrath episodes has had at least similar thoughts to what I've had about black sand, but I've never seen anyone else bring it up, so I'm making a post to clean my brain out.

The quick version: Is the substance that Mozenrath used in The Secret of Dagger Rock the same substance that he used in Black Sand? Is the substance of Black Sand the same as the black sand that covers Mozenrath's kingdom? ...Where did that sand even come from?!

So Mozenrath lives in the Land of the Black Sand, which seems to be an area completely covered in black sand, as opposed to the brown or yellow sand that we see in most other places in the franchise.

(Also, this shot is gorgeous and would probably make the Land of the Black Sands a place I would want to live in, if only it weren't for the towers on that giant slab held up by an uneven geological column that gives me anxiety.)

Aside from just being the sand that covers Mozenrath's kingdom, Black Sand is also the name of a substance that he uses in the episode Black Sand in order to ensnare and imprison his opponents in what looks to be some sort of pocket dimension.

Note that the first image there has the Black Sand sticking to Mozenrath, which is interesting to me because the same episode has Iago pull out some grains of Black Sand, let it slide through his feathers, and then dust his wings off...

...which means that the Black Sand that Mozenrath uses to trap his opponents in the adhesive substance may be similar to the regular black sand that covers his own land, if it isn't outright the same.

While we don't see Mozenrath use the substance in the same way he did in the episode Black Sand, we did see something similar in the earlier episode The Secret of Dagger Rock.

What's interesting about this one is that while the substance is never given a name, it does share a slightly similar appearance and serve a similar function to the substance in Black Sand. The main difference is that the Black Sand of the episode Black Sand seemed to almost work on its own, spreading out and ensnaring people after it was blown from Mozenrath's palm. It occasionally sucked people into it, but it also seemed to work like a liquid too, with people splashing after falling directly into it. Meanwhile, the substance in Dagger Rock seemed to work more like tar, with Aladdin sinking further into it the more that he struggled. We see something similar later on where Aladdin is hanging directly beneath Dagger Rock with ropes of the substance around his wrists. Near the end of the episode, the substance has covered his hands and forearms, and the ropes of the substance holding Aladdin up are sagging low enough for Mozenrath to grab Aladdin directly.

We also see Genie cut through the ropes with scissors, but the goo-like substance sticks to him the moment that he presses his fingers against it.

All this is to say that these are all different substances or that the sand that covers Mozenrath's kingdom may have different properties depending on the moment. Maybe it's due to Mozenrath enchanting his sand or something.

But that's half of it for me, because I'm really curious as to where this sand came from in the first place.

(Heads up, much of the rest of this post consists of me, a person with little to no knowledge of geology, relaying information that I found after some quick internet searches that usually led to Wikipedia, so take it with a grain of... basalt.)

So, I don't know enough about geology to ask more specific questions, but I'll give it a shot; What is the more normal black sand made of, and why is it there? The most popular types of black sand that I know of are from black sand beaches, consisting of basalt fragments and are the remains of lava flows that made contact with salt water. A desert consisting entirely of sand that is black, however... well, doesn't really exist. You've got things like the Karakum Desert, known for its sand that looks black due to the darker soil beneath it, and the Black Desert in Western Egypt has mounds capped by basalt sills which gives them their darker appearance.

Iceland has some interesting examples because much of the country is technically a desert, having little rain, but it has areas covered in black sand due to glacial outburst floods (jökulhlaup) that result from geothermal heating and the occasional volcanic subglacial eruption. The water that melts from the glacier mixes with the volcanic debris, and that's how you get the black sand.

So right now, a black sand desert that's far away from any oceans or glaciers doesn't really exist. It would be difficult to realistically place one right next to the orange sandy deserts of and around Agrabah, especially if you believe from the movie's demos that Agrabah is the replacement city for Baghdad in Iraq, which doesn't have much access to the ocean. If we went realistically, it could be the location of a dried-up ocean from long ago that was also prone to volcanic activity. Maybe it's the result of black rust from a massive deposit of iron.

Or maybe it's magic.

[ad-caelestia]

oil of eris / discordia

named for the goddess of discord and strife, an original recipe best used for acts of extreme banishing, cursing, or binding.

ingredients & items:

cayenne pepper

chili flakes

chili powder

cinnamon powder

sea salt or black lava salt

carrier oil of your choice

dropper bottle

sealable glass container

instructions:

on the day of and in the hour of mars, bonus points if eris [the asteroid/minor planet] is in aries…

combine dry ingredients together and crush into a powder using a mortar and pestle or herb grinder

add powder to your container - a mason jar would work

top off with oil, seal, shake, and let sit overnight in a cool, dark place

strain the oil through a cheesecloth to remove large particles into a dropper bottle

seal and shake well

store in a cool, dark place

add to spellwork however you see fit

note: this was previously posted on my old blog with a different title and has since been revised

© 2024 𝚊𝚍-𝚌𝚊𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚊

[picturesofthegoneworlds]

Restless

Imogen can't concentrate.

(standard procedure for up to a couple weeks ago, now it wears a different guise.)

She fidgets, sits with her legs crossed on her bedroll, backpack in her lap, removes, itemises, arranges its contents, huffs stray hairs out of her face, hands still twitchy, mind still scrambled, organises it all again. Repeats. 

It's early, the fact given away by the low-lying sun and crisp smell on the air that has not yet been burned away by its sustained and blistering presence. 

The blisters on her ankles, the friction of leather that is still not fully broken in. Imogen delays in pulling on and lacing up her boots, calves restless but exhausted, thrumming if they remain still too long (too long being only a moment).

She falls back heavily onto the bedroll. 

Overhead, in the weave of vines and branches, birds sing. They're mocking her, surely, the awkward and bound to the ground sack of flesh and fat and bones that she is, hair frizzed and sticky from the humidity, her inner thigh chaffed and perspiring where the contact of her dagger's harness coils around it like a constricting snake.

She loosens it a few notches

The pathetic and inconsistent touch of it frustrates her more, so she buckles it tight like a tourniquet. 

She exhales, deflates, heavy as she is, runs the back of her forearm over her brow, spreading the salt and sweat, breathes in, feels the connective tissue holding together all of her joints, exhales, arm to ground, along with every other limb, the back of her knees, her spine, her shoulders (there's a rock digging into one through the mat, did she sleep on that last night?), her neck, her ass, wishes they were all gelatin, that she could become one with the floor and not collide with every edge and corner and texture of it, stop being so reactive. 

She inhales, skin pulling away, wishing it would continue, peel, lift, blanket, canopy (closer than the trees), shade, but it would drip with blood, hot and sizzling as it rained back onto her exposed bones. 

Shadow, the dark tatters, the veil. Molasses of ichor. Dull, hazy, sharp, thorns. Don't touch, don't approach. Space. Wail, scream, chorus, silence. That would chase the birds away, feathers dislodged from sudden movement re-lodged into black tar, carried off, away, down sluggish stream, no contact. Barbed like a briar.

The thread of the bed roll is itchy, the weave of it too thick and open, rough spun from fibrous burlap, it splinters bare skin where it makes contact, nape of her neck, backs of her forearms, thighs, knees, and calves. 

Delicate, cool, billowing lace that accommodated to the pads of Imogen's fingers, to her palm, fractured by magic, calloused and freshly wounded, it dulled even the rows of needle teeth beneath. Imogen imagines it her bedsheets, the ground would not matter - could be rivers of lava jutted by shattered glass, it would not matter, sure, cool billowing lace, Imogen would sleep well. 

Easier to tell now, how restless her hands are. They pluck at the gauzy linen that makes her dress, the more rigid weave of her waistcoat, following stitching as if it were pathways, movement, roads to get her somewhere, them, skin to skin contact barriered like the rock digging into her shoulder. Her touch meanders to her chest, unintentional, she swears, in promise and obscenity, a winding path with sides towered by hedges and trees that block the horizon, a shock carried from the point of touch to manifest as an ache between her legs and a weightless haze in her head, body rolling, shoulders leaving the mat, leaving the rock that digs, a breath to a sigh to a gravelly moan, sends a bird or two scattering away, a leaf or two falling behind them. 

Fuckin' birds. Relax. More touch. Touch is good? Barbed. Thorns. Restraint. Maybe she should grow her nails, maybe then the touch won't feel her own. Laudna - fuck, the name gets a reaction from her again, the jolt in her core as she feels the heat pool at the surface of her face, her neck, her chest, crimson damming, damning, acid rising to her throat carried by the guilt of it. 

She kicks and squirms, side of a fist like hammer to nail on the bedroll beside her, other covering her face from the shame of it, it being the burn, the rolling simmer, the violent boil of want and guilt and acid and sting and she is so restless, boiling over, she can't concentrate, the contact of the ground and the fabrics and the atmosphere all feels wrong, scalding, now she knows what to compare it to, how it could feel, what she could be touching. 

Could be death calling, alluring, maybe, how long she flirted with it. Cold with head empty, sounded nice, still does, though the delivery and means maybe different now. A face to an end, ends her, finishes, acid in her throat again, hand bunching the rough fabric under her hips. 

It moves of its own accord to her thigh, takes a fistful of cuff and flesh and she sobs, eyes scrunching shut so tightly that she starts to see colours in the dark, blotches of crimson in a grey dream, her body in the butcher's cart. 

Dreamlike, hazy, drunk (this must be how it feels), she moves without thought, groping herself through the crotch of her shorts, writhing, the floor is too hot against her back, sweat gathering at her hairline and salt beading down into her eyes, again, breath short, short, when did it get so shallow, dizzy. How long could she hold it (hold herself), heat, radiating into the cup of her hand, squirming, a worm under boot, squashed before it gets to dine on the corpse. She pushes firmer against herself, shudders, the feel of the floor leaving, rolls her hips onto the press of her fingers, barriered, dulled, not enough, as they fumble, clutch at the shorts and wrangle the inseam of them in frantic pulls against uncomfortably undulating heat, heat, damp forced through from the close contact onto the pads of her fingers and Gods she's gonna have to prestidigitate that, what the hells is she doing, Laudna could return from her morning forage or whatever it is any moment and

fuck the thought doesn't quell the need at all, her hips spasming and knees shaking as she holds them suspended and trembling, working herself up, frantic, frantic and desperate. How did she get here? she followed the woman at the market, the woman followed the yellow bird, the birdsong silenced for pathetic needy moans, her hips raised so high her shoulders are pushed further into the cut of the offensive rock, princesses and mattresses and beans or whatever that fairytale was Laudna had mentioned about ladies and their proper behaviour. 

Proper, right, she should stop, get it over with, fumbles with the fastening of her shorts, hand making its way beneath fabric before it's fully undone, now registering coarse curls, then slicked, heat, heat, heat, hot, wet, eager, soaked, soft, the glide of her intensity, betrayal, soaking. fuck. Touch is not enough, hers, fuck. Not right, the feel of callouses and scars and heat and a barely registrable thrum shit what happens if she gets away from herself, gets too excited. magic fried uncontrollable she is out of control fuck the heat of the bedroll on her back and the push of the rock imbedding imbedded scars wrapping tangled suffocating sinew silvered skin nightmares burden and guilt guilt guilt storming-

Imogen rolls over onto her front, the rock through the bedroll pushing into her chest, against her sternum, aiding to evacuate the bile that has been suspended in her oesophagus but the guilt won't leave her thighs slicked and hot and tacky and uncomfortable and the chaffe of the itchy fabric of the mat burning them, restless, as she removes her fingers from between her legs, wipes the evidence of a pathetic and failed and just and just wrong attempt onto her shorts, prestidigitates it all clean as if she can wash herself of her impurities and intentions, dares to think of the occasions the purple glow has evaporated the rain from Laudna's clothes and skin, now a selfish act, was then too, maybe, always selfish. 

[tk-duveraun]

19/? Luo Binghe is SO NORMAL about Shen Yuan

7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20

Read up through even numbered parts on Ao3

Factorio expansion dropped lol

Luo Binghe wrapped his fingers around Xin Mo's hilt and instantly regretted it. He'd never planned to use Xin Mo for long, more than happy to commit himself to one sword the same way he'd committed himself to one sword.

But wow, Xin Mo was cursed. It made Two Girls One Cup vanilla. It made goatce look like a classic museum piece. Probably. Luo Binghe hadn't really been interested in any "shock" content on the internet. Life below the poverty line was already bad enough, why bother? But the point stood: Xin Mo was cursed, cursed.

Its thick, caustic qi flooded through him faster than blood. It stuck thorns of corruption into his every cell, piercing and pulling. Again, Luo Binghe leaned on (more like, collapsed against) his knowledge of cellular biology and used a combination of his blood mites and demonic qi to protect first his golden core, then brain, then vital organs then every connecting piece until he could think again.

He found himself on the ground, face pressed into a half-dried puddle of black blood. Luo Binghe blinked a few times, trying to orient himself through the buzzing in every part of his body. Xin Mo was in his hand and he'd had a qi deviation on bonding with it, all the evidence suggested.

With a groan, he stabbed the sword into the cursed ground and used it as leverage to pull himself up to his knees. He sent out his perception to feel around the area; nowhere was a safe place to rest in the Abyss.

In his head, Meng Mo was silent, but in a loud way. He was present and pressing against the edge of Luo Binghe's perception. Finally, Luo Binghe had enough and spoke first.

"Did you want something, Old Man?"

"Well done, kid."

Meng Mo said nothing else, but neither did he pull his awareness away. Hopefully that's why the System hadn't bothered telling him he'd finished his current quest. The next step was leaving the Abyss, but that was easier said than done.

According to Meng Mo, Xin Mo's value, beyond its strength, was in its ability to create a portal between locations. However, that was where the old demon's knowledge ended. How the sword worked, they could only speculate.

And immediately post-qi deviation wasn't exactly the ideal place time to experiment. Luo Binghe looked up to the roof of the cavern while he pictured the areas outside. The Crystal Canyon was closest, but that required constant concentration and application of qi: also not good for experimentation.

Before that was either a field of lava floes or a salt desert that was bitterly cold even without the contrast of the lava field. It didn't take long to settle on the desert. While there were precious few monsters in the lava field, there was no food and less water. It was a place to rest once he had provisions, not when half dead.

The desert did have a clan of frisky snow leopard demons, but in return for respecting his chastity and giving him supplies he could offer them passage to the Northern Desert in the Demon realm. Hell, he could offer them Linguang-jun's territory without offending the Mobei clan too badly. Probably. If not, he always had stronger demon diplomacy.

As he crossed the salt drifts, Luo Binghe liked the idea more and more. His own demonic traits leaned hot and fiery, unsurprising given that the previous Heavenly Demonic Emperor — Luo Baixiao's probable father — ruled from the Southern demon lands.

But that didn't help his plan of taking Binghe as his own courtesy name. He might get away with it in a novel trying to be clever, which was to say the System would go along with it, but practically speaking everyone would think he really was Xiao Bai. However, if he took over the Northern Desert first and ruled from Mobei-clan territory, it would fit the name and give additional justification for killing Linguang-jun.

Not that he planned on explaining himself, but everyone wanted a good narrative to pin on their ruler. As for courting Shen Yuan, it couldn't be too, too hard. After all, he was going to be saving him from a life-long affliction and offering a trade agreement with Cang Qiong. As repulsive as Linguang-jun was, Luo Binghe had no qualms about stealing his justifications and arguments the suit presented to Shen Yuan.

Snowballing had gone into truly excruciating detail about the courting rituals and the calculus behind the value of gifts and five layers of demonic designers behind each piece. Comm enters had been delighted by the apparent research, then furious when Linguang-jun died without so much as a by-your-leave, wasting chapters and pages of world building.

Actually, actually, Luo Binghe suddenly hoped the System was somehow updating IRS or a fanfic thereof with his own improvements. There had been some jiejies in the comments that speculated the Linguang-jun arc was to establish the demonic traditions before the actual endgame suit of Luo Baixiao. He'd appreciate if the System was throwing them a bone.

If only because he was the Luo Baixiao in question.

Luo Binghe raised the barrier to lock Meng Mo away in the recesses of his mind and then queried the System.

[What is the User inquiry?]

[What happened to the Original Goods' soul?]

Instead of rejecting his question, the System displayed a loading icon. After several minutes, it was still thinking, so Luo Binghe swiped the window away to consider later. Didn't transmigrators usually get rewards for completing the storyline? Since he was marrying Shen Yuan out of his own efforts, maybe he could request something good for the kid?

Luo Binghe set the question aside; the snow leopard village was approaching quickly. Even familiar visitors were subjected to a round of stalking and wrestling before being granted admittance and he needed to focus to ensure he didn't accidentally flirt with them.

He cracked his neck and tried to ignore Xin Mo whispering from its place strapped to his back.