#one was created out of liquid and one died because of it

[thelucidduchess]

New petition to call The Goat “Tyrone” in honor of Dipper’s first clone in Gravity Falls.

[teapartyprincess4two]

your writing is sooo good! i NEED a johnnie smut omg please write one💞

Monster- J. Guilbert

pairing: Extrovert!reader x Shy!Johnnie

classification: SMUT w/ a plot

inspiration: request^^, Monster by Lady Gaga

warnings: 18+, MDNI, literal sex, use of y/n, dom!Johnnie (kinda), “slut,” alcohol use, slight cursing, Jake and Tara are dating in this

summary: Tara plays matchmaker, earning Johnnie the night of his life with you in a bar restroom.

—

Johnnie’s been watching you all night, but he’s waiting for the alcohol to settle into his bloodstream before he finally walks up to you. You sit at the bar in a black, backless dress that allows a few of your tattoos to peak through. Bouncy curls are swept onto your shoulder, framing one side of your face as you chat with the bartender.

“Gonna keep staring or are you finally gonna make a move?” Jake nudges Johnnie’s shoulder.

Nights out like this are common for the pair, especially when living a fast paced life in the city of Los Angeles. When they’re not filming or editing, they’re usually out getting drunk, and they’ve managed to creat regular rotation of bars.

Today they find themselves at the Magic 8 Ball, the least crowded bar in L.A on a Friday night. No matter what unfamiliar faces that fill this place, though, yours is always constant. Every Friday, without fail, you saunter in and take a seat at the bar.

Johnnie can tell, just from watching you, that you’re an extrovert. You never seem to stay at the bar, you always wander onto the dance floor and lure a random stranger in for a quick bop around the room.

That’s what intimidates him, because as an introvert he’s not sure he’ll be able to keep up.

“I’m not staring,” Johnnie quips quickly, taking a swig of whatever alcoholic mixture swirls in his glass. He hisses as the liquid goes down.

If it were just Jake and Johnnie, the conversation would’ve died there. But tonight Tara joined them and she isn’t so adamant on letting the topic go.

“You should invite her to sit with us! You never know what could happen,” she prods teasing fingers into Johnnie’s sides, “plus she looks nice! I need a girlfriend to hang out with!”

“Johnnie needs a girlfriend, Tara. Not you,” Jake jokes. Johnnie rolls is eyes, scooting away from Tara as her fingers continue digging into his sides.

“I’ve had a girlfriend,” Johnnie replies, eyes darting back to where you sit at the bar.

“Yeah, had,” Jake says.

“It’s just hard to—“

“ALRIGHT! Enough!” Tara interrupts Johnnie mid sentence, slamming her hands onto the table as she stands up. “If you won’t make a move, I will,” she says, shimmying out of the booth.

Johnnie’s eyes are blown open in shock. He tries grabbing Tara before she can get too far, but she’s small and sneaky.

“That’s one way to do it,” Jake laughs, watching in amusement as his girlfriend does what his best friend doesn’t have the balls to do.

Johnnie, on the other hand, watches in horror.

There you are, sipping on your drink and chatting with the bartender, blissfully unaware of Tara’s approaching figure.

Tara sits at the bar, taking the seat directly next to yours. She interrupts your conversation with the bartender to order two drinks, one for you and one for her, before swiftly turning her attention to you with a warm smile.

Johnnie can’t bear to watch, but he also can’t look away.

You seem to like Tara, because you’re quick to engage in conversation with her. In the matter of seconds Tara has managed to learn your name, your favorite drink, and even your favorite song (it’s the one that plays over the club speakers).

“Oh God they’re coming,” Johnnie whisper shouts, trying to look casual. Tara’s arm is looped with yours as she leads you to their table, an accomplished look painting her face.

“What the fuck do I do? What the fuck do I do?! Fuck!”

“Just act casual. Don’t be weird— Oh fuck! Just shut up!” for some reason Jake finds himself just as nervous as Johnnie. Maybe he was just being empathetic, but they both scramble to get themselves together.

“Don’t be weird? What the fuck does that—”

Johnnie can’t seem to catch a break, because as soon as Tara reaches the booth she’s interrupting him. “Guys. This is Y/n, my new friend,” she gestures towards you, “Y/n, this is my boyfriend Jake and this is our friend Johnnie.”

The moment Tara says your name it’s engraved in Johnnie’s mind. He’s already in love.

Your smile is so big it could light up the room. You extend a hand to the two, immediately introducing yourself and falling into the booth next to Johnnie.

His heart is pounding and his ears are red hot with embarrassment.

“Well, while you two get acquainted, Jake and I are gonna go get drunk,” Tara says, pulling Jake out of the booth before he can get any more comfortable than he already is. She shoots Johnnie a wink before sending you a small wave, leading a confused Jake into the crowd of people.

“She’s nice. I like her,” you comment, watching until the couple disappears. “She’s… something,” Johnnie coughs, he’s so unbelievably awkward.

You chuckle, mostly because you think he’s cute and you find his fiddly personality amusing.

“Johnnie, huh? I had a friend named Johnnie once,” you say, attempting to make conversation. Your manicured nails tap against you glass cup, silver hoop earrings reflecting the strobing lights as you try catching his gaze.

“Bet he didn’t look like this though,” Johnnie replies, clearly referring to his all black attire.

“Hmmm, no. He definitely didn’t,” you giggle. You take a sip from your drink, a lipstick stain remaining once you place the cup back onto the table. Johnnie wonders what it’d feel like to kiss you.

“You’re much cuter,” you continue. Johnnie can’t tell if he’s dreaming, were you actually flirting with him?

Maybe it’s the surge of confidence your compliment gives him, or maybe the alcohol finally kicked in, but Johnnie suddenly finds himself being flirtatious.

“So do you flirt with all the Johnnies you know?”

He’s surprised at how fast you quip back, “Nope. Just the cute ones.”

You’ve subconsciously leaned closer to him, your faces dangerously close.

“Okay, so we’ve established that I’m cute,” he smirks. “What else am I?”

You giggle, a sound that Johnnie swears he can listen to for forever.

“Well clearly you’re not shy anymore,” your finger traces the rim of your drink. A drunk smile and sultry eyes lure him in, pulling him close enough for his lip rings to press against your skin.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he murmurs, a wandering hand finding your thigh. You shiver at the sensation. His fingers were ice cold, but they still managed to ignite a fire deep within your core.

“Like this?” you tease, batting your eyelashes.

You never made it a habit of sleeping with strangers, but Johnnie was the sheep in wolves clothing that played innocent until you were close enough to bite.

“I warned you,” his breath fans against your lips one last time before he’s capturing your lips in a heated kiss. It’s the first kiss Johnnie’s had in years which makes it that much more exciting.

Your plump lips chase his as your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer to you. The club is loud, but you’re so immersed in the man in front of you that you forget you’re not the only two people in the room and lose all control.

Johnnie’s hands find your waist, tugging until you’re straddling his lap. He pulls away breathlessly, silently thanking Tara for working her magic once he sees you on top of him.

Your dress rides up slightly, revealing more of your backside than you’d like. The sight earns you a few whistles from bystanders, breaking you from your lustful daze. “Oh shit,” you squeak, trying to scramble off of Johnnie, but his grip is firm enough to keep you in place.

An animalistic, monster-like need has overtaken him and he’s willing to sacrifice his self image to fuck you in front of all these strangers. But he simultaneously doesn’t want anyone else to see you, to enjoy you, the way he’s about to.

“Restroom. Now,” he growls, pinching the soft skin of your ass. You squeal in excitement, allowing the desires of your flesh to cloud your judgement as you hop off of him and wiggle your way out of the booth. You adjust your dress as you wait for Johnnie to follow before taking his hand in yours and leading him towards the restroom. He makes a mental note to let this be the only time you lead him tonight.

Everyone’s watching, yet you can’t find it in you to feel embarrassed. If anything it excites you more.

You find the restroom quickly, a wave of gratitude washing over you when you realize it’s a single stall. This means you can be as loud as you want, and from the look in Johnnie’s eyes, you can tell you’ll also need the extra room.

He’s quick to lock the door and immediately engulfs your face in his hands, bringing you in for the second heated kiss of the night. Johnnie’s eager and it shows in the way he swipes his tongue across your bottom lip.

His left hand remains on your face while the other travels down to your ass, squeezing firmly against the material of your dress. A moan escapes your lips, providing him the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. He tastes surprisingly sweet, like pomegranate and pineapple.

He leads you to the sink counter, your bodies bouncing back slightly when they hit the cold marble. “Up,” he commands.

You hop onto the counter, giving him enough room to fit between your legs. Johnnie’s erection presses against your inner thigh, but he gives you no time to comment on it before his lips are back on yours.

Johnnie’s hand’s find your boobs, massaging your mounds slowly as he deepens the kiss. “More,” you murmur against the kiss, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him in closer to you. He smirks against your mouth at your neediness.

“So needy.” He pulls your head back, providing him with perfect access to your neck. Sloppy, open mouth kisses trail from your jawline down to your exposed collarbone. Each one gives you goosebumps.

“Fuck me please,” you whimper, feeling your panties become more soaked by the second. “So polite,” he teases, sucking on your skin until it bruises.

The rough material of his jeans comes in contact with your clothed pussy. He dry humps you just to hear the strained moans that escape your lips.

Finally, when you rut back, he decides he’s teased you enough. Your dress is bunched up around your waist, exposing the wet underwear that he pushes to the side.

“So fucking sexy,” he grunts, kneeling in front of you to get a better view. He’s in love. What he wants to do is eat you out, but there’s no time for that in a club as crowded as this. Especially not when there’s only one restroom.

You watch in awe as he presses a quick kiss on your bundle of nerves, immediately licking his lips right after. “Yummy,” he chuckles, bringing you in for another hungry kiss.

Your hands find his belt, unbuckling it with fervor and tugging at his belt loop to bring him back in to you. He gets the message and helps you in unbuttoning his skin-tight jeans. Your forehead is flush against his as you watch his dick spring up, it bobs back and forth as you take in the sheer size.

“Holy fuck,” your voice is full of exasperation. How was that meant to fit inside of you?

Maybe it’s because he hasn’t done this in a long time, but Johnnie suddenly feels self conscious. He hides his face in your neck before you can notice how red it becomes, but you’re quick to push his shoulders back.

“Hey, don’t be embarrassed. Where’d that monster go?” you place a gentle kiss on the corner of his mouth. His dick twitches and cries precum at the reassurance.

He pulls you back in for a kiss, feeling confident once again. He lines himself up tentatively with your entrance, rubbing the tip along your folds before slowly pushing himself in.

Your eyes are screwed shut, small tears forming at the corners as you struggle to adjust to the stretch. “Fuck Johnnie, wait,” you say, pushing against his stomach slightly. Suddenly you’re not sure you want him to fuck you dumb, his size alone was enough to have you seeing stars.

Your words fall on deaf ears, though, and before you know it he’s pushed himself all the way in. You gasp, throwing your head back against the bathroom mirror. Your pussy clenches around him as you try to hold him in place knowing the longer you keep him there, the more time you’ll have to adjust.

It’s no use though, because he begins thrusting into you at a relentless, unforgiving pace. The pain is quickly replaced with pleasure, the tip of his penis kissing your cervix every time his hips slam into yours.

“Fuck you’re so tight,” he grunts, strong hands gripping your waist so he can fuck into you even faster. You whimper at the sensation, his fingers were sure to leave bruises.

“Just like that, Johnnie. So good,” you egg him on, holding onto his neck for support. He hasn’t slowed his pace, instead moving one hand from your hips down to your throbbing clit.

Your legs instinctively push together, but his body moves them back into their previous position as he continues. “Such a slut,” he purrs, watching the euphoric look that paints your face when he rubs his thumb against your sensitive nub.

“Yes! Such a slut,” you’re drunk on dick, babbling whatever will get you closer to your pending release.

“My slut?” he asks, using the hand that was previously gripping your waist to take a firm hold of your face. Your eyes lock with his, taking notice of the way lust clouds his pupils. “All yours,” you whisper.

He smirks, leaning down to kiss you. Your tongues collide in a heated mixture of moans and whimpers. All the while he continues pounding into you and rubbing circles on your clit.

One particularly hard thrust has you dumb, a string of curse words and chants of his name being the only thing you can manage to say. “C’mon baby, c’mon,” he growls, sloppily kissing you as he feels his climax approaching.

“Johnnie!”

Your walls flutter around him, your entire body trembling as your orgasm washes over you.

Your hair falls in front of your face and you find yourself holding Johnnie’s wrist, pushing his hand away as it continues working on your clit. “Almost there,” he moans, pulling his hand away to focus his attention on fucking you.

You’re sensitive. You’re whimpering. You’re so fucked out that it’s overstimulating.

“Cum for me, handsome,” you moan, still coming down from your own high. He continues rutting his hips into you, chasing his release until finally it washes over him.

Hot spurts of cum paint your insides, lazy hips rolling against you. He’s panting from above you, hands falling from your body and latching onto the counter for support.

“Fuck that was… that was amazing,” Johnnie says, pulling out of you reluctantly.

He knows the sooner he pulls out and you two get dressed, the quicker you’ll become strangers. And that’s terrifying.

“You were amazing,” you reply, using your finger to pull his pensive gaze back towards you by his chin.

“Don’t tell me it’s a one and done,” you pout, “I was hoping to have more moments like that.”

Johnnie still stands between your legs, his limp dick resting on your exposed thighs. He lights up at your suggestion. His hands have opted for a much softer hold on your hips, thumbs massaging your skin. He knows he was rough, but he couldn’t help it.

“I mean— I’d like to— we could— fuck I’m so bad at this,” he stutters, suddenly reverting back to his natural, awkward state.

“You’re cute,” you giggle, pecking his nose and hopping off the counter. His ears flush red again.

“How about we get cleaned up and then we’ll worry about the rest later, yeah?”

“Yeah,” a big goofy smile adorns his face. His rosy cheeks make you wanna pinch him and gush over how cute he looks.

“Weren’t you just fucking my brains out a second ago?” you tease, only making him more flustered.

“I’m shy, I can’t help it.”

“Not that shy apparently,” you pull him in for one more kiss.

—

MASTERLIST

a/n: Tara the goat, the best wingwoman ever!

I locked in. Thank you for ur kind words bby, I LUV U!

Enjoy 🎱😜 - L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

—

taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @raysmayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn @mxqdii @fawned01 @junnniiieee07 @sturniolololover @missriddle03 @k-l-a-w-s @maryx2xx @biggesthat3r @herxyzblog @getosuckers @tillies33ssss @fratbrochrisgf @aurizp @riasturns @sturnikitty @sturnrc @sturtriple16 @sillyfreakfanparty @imwetforyourmom @mattslovelygf @certifiednatelover @cartiiwannagotoplutoo @mimi-luvzyu

note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐 if your user is striked through, I wasn’t able to tag you :(

[originalaccountname]

Finally caved and did my perceived timeline of what happened to Chuuya, from being brought into the lab for project Arahabaki to being taken out of it.

I originally thought about mentioning it in my Chuuya's true original ability being to amplify others' abilities post, but it was way too long, and not as solid an argument to that specific topic.

Because this is about Chuuya being the original, not the clone, but more importantly the why and how that is the case.

Chuuya's humanity is the core question of SB, and the most important part is that in the end, Chuuya chose to accept himself despite it all, and that no matter what, he is himself and no one can take that away from him.

But once we have been given all the pieces of the puzzle, we can try connecting the dots and deduce the true story behind it all.

-

Project Arahabaki was built to create an ability weapon based on the recovered notes of Pan, a French researcher and Verlaine's creator. The technique uses the clone of a human with a "fake" psyche (persona model) who is fused with a singularity life-form. The clone's original should have an ability able to create a self-referencing singularity (to manifest gravity powers). Pan even had a special ability metal to brainwash that individual. Basically, this concept is supposed to create an overpowered flesh puppet.

So. Project Arahabaki. They needed an original with an ability that could produce a singularity on its own, which is super rare. Joy oh joy, there just so happen to be this boy, the son of a military doctor, who fits these needs! They just need his DNA/some cells to create a clone to use in their project. It's the middle of the war, ethics are disregarded, plus no "real child" should be harmed in the making of this weapon. No biggie, right? Lend us your son for the sake of the country!

Except we know that boy, officially at least, died during the war.

According to N's timeline, there once was this certain boy who managed to create a singularity with his ability while under the supervision of scientists, but got swallowed by the black hole it created, never to return.

He also had Chuuya's supposed "original" stuck in a tube full of mystery liquid, the same kind Chuuya once was in, but that one's flesh and organs melted when exposed to air (normal behaviour), changing it into a skeleton that can be ordered around like an overpowered puppet (literally on strings. The tubes in its back controlled it and kept it going, but would severely limit its range)

Back to our Chuuya:

All N does is lie, so we can't take his word as the simple truth. Chuuya was a miracle they never managed to reproduce. Why is that?

In Rimbaud's notes, he says how in their operation to retrieve the new ability weapon Japan was developing (based on Verlaine), they managed to identify the artificial being, aka the clone, A2-5-8. In the flashback, Rimbaud is absolutely positive it is him, so we have to assume this information was recorded as-is somewhere.

And yet, Dazai is the one to suggest later that, perhaps, the original and the clone had been swapped.

And wouldn't that make everything else make sense?

The clone(s) never managed to hold up to the quality standard necessary to be useful outside of their confines. The skeleton approach was the lab trying something different, like N admitted so to Verlaine. There ever only was one successful attempt, a "miracle", Chuuya. The original child is thought to be dead, yet N the liar supposedly had him in a tube, ready to turn him into a skeleton(???). Rimbaud and Verlaine thought for sure they had the artificial life-form, the clone, but they got Chuuya, who has a graphite scar from before he lost his memories, with a past that was able to be dug up by the Flags and Port Mafia.

My conclusion is this: N swapped out a clone for the original child. His research wasn't giving the proper results, but he had found a workaround, where he could use the original instead of his clone, for better/faster results.

Chuuya is the only one who could harness "Arahabaki" in any way that would remotely resemble "Guivre". Chuuya is the only one who could operate autonomously. That's why N wanted to remove "Arahabaki" and try to factory-reset Chuuya before putting it back in: because there really is only one of him, and he couldn't afford losing him if he wanted to continue his research.

[dira333]

The Cat and the Human - Kenma Kozume x Reader

I will never willingly admit that Kenma's my favorite even though everyone knows I really really really really really really really really really love him... So.... have this fun piece instead. Also, @notsochillnerd this is kind of an excerpt of "Young Love" that I came up with today. Have fun with it knowing what you do.

“The story goes like this:  The most wanted woman in town has announced that she’ll only marry the one who can open her front door with the key around her cat’s neck. Many men try to hunt the cat down, chase and trap it, but to no avail, the cat is simply too quick, smart and clever, and always finds a way to evade and avoid them.

You are the first one to figure out the obvious: Do not chase the cat. The cat is befriendable. Get the cat to trust you, to genuinely enjoy your company, and you can hang out with the cat. You may eventually be allowed to touch the cat. The cat will freely let you take the key. 

Plot twist: The woman is a shapeshifter. She is the cat.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Kenma asks, engrossed in his hand-held game. He’s taken his perch in the comfy chair next to the Couch you’re lying on, his seating position weird enough to give everyone back cramps but him.

“I thought it was obvious,” you say, pick up your book again, and continue reading.

It’s a good book, really. One you’ve been trying to finish for weeks now.

It’s just a little hard to focus when Kenma’s sitting there, perfectly disheveled hair falling into his eyes, the gold in his hair glinting in the sunlight.

But you prevail, your eyes returning to the page.

And it gets easier, a little bit at least, to get sucked into the narrative.

Only to be pulled out of it quite harshly.

“Want to cuddle?” Kenma asks, pointy knees digging into your side as he climbs onto you without waiting for an answer.

“Do I have a choice?” 

“No.”

-

Kenma is like a cat.

It’s a common inside joke by now, one that’s already a little grey around the edges, but he keeps it alive with all his adorable quirks.

Kenma hates water - do not take him swimming - and he’s usually more active during the night. He can sleep for hours on end, his body seemingly consisting of nothing but liquid, curled into the oddest shapes.

More than once you checked his pulse because you thought he fell down the stairs and died only to find out he just couldn’t be bothered to make it to bed before snoozing off.

Those things are all old news though, commented on time and time again by his friends. 

You wonder how many of them know just how cat-like he reacts to attention.

-

It’s the way he shies away from the spotlight, hides whenever someone’s trying to get him to do something - even things he would have ordinarily liked doing - only to come out just when no one’s paying him any attention anymore.

Maybe it’s because you’ve always had a thing for cats.

You like the differences in their characters, how they can force you to abide to their consent. If a cat doesn’t want you to pet them, they’ll just bite you.

Still, you can’t help but think sometimes that Kenma chose you first.

-

“Hey,” you look up from your Laptop to see him standing in the doorway of your room, hair tied up in a messy bun and the hem of his hoodie going almost past his knees - it must be one of Kuroo’s then.

“Hey.”

“What are you doing?”

“Creating a training regime for the team, why?”

“Can I stay with you? I’ve got some free time and I’m kinda bored.”

“Sure,” you nod, turn back to your screen to let him figure out where he wants to sit. So far that’s always been the best way to go about this, and you’re not that surprised when his knees soon dig into your back as he climbs into the tiny space between your back and the backrest of your chair.

“Comfy?” You ask as his head sinks heavy onto your shoulder.

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

Time passes slowly. You move as slowly as you can, trying not to upset his balance, your heart sloshing in your chest to the rhythm of his heartbeat.

Maybe it’s because you’ve always had a thing for cats.

Maybe you’ve just always been dreaming about him. 

“Do you mind spending time with me?” His voice comes out a bit muffled, but the words are clear.

“Never.”

“Why?”

“I like sending time with you.”

“How much?”

You accidentally click a wrong button and the big flashing sign asking if you really want to delete the document is screaming the truth in your face.

Kenma’s breathe ghosts ove your neck and you know, you just know, that he’s seen it all. Nothing ever goes unnoticed by him, not even your own feelings.

“A lot.”

“More than Kuroo.”

“Hm.”

“More than Akaashi?”

“Akaashi’s my cousin.”

“Still.”

You sigh. 

“Don’t tell him,” you ask, “but yeah.”

Kenma’s quiet for a while.

“More than Bokuto?” He finally asks, his voice tiny now.

“Yeah.” Your voice is barely more than a sigh, an admission of things you’ve probably always known, but never dared to be real.

And maybe you’re imagining it - though you doubt it, with how hotwired your senses are right now - but it almost feels like Kenma’s lips are moving against the back of your neck, pressing the tiniest of kisses against warm skin.

Some cats are vocal. Others show their love in a different way.

-

“How’d you get him to agree?” Hinata asks, breathless with excitement.

People stop and stare. Even without the flaming orange hair he’s breathtaking, his smile a second sun.

You’ve long grown immune to it, looking for a different sunshine in the crowd.

“That’s a secret,” you tell him off, messing up his hair like the big sister/Senpai you are to him. “Not telling.”

“I’ll just ask Kuroo for it.”

“Good luck, he wants to know too,” you pull back when you spot him, knowing full well that next to him-

“Hey,” you can barely hide the smile that’s always overtaking you at his sight.

“Hey,” Kenma sounds way less enthused, shuffling into your side. If you’d try to read his mind he’d probably be thinking “Too hot, too loud, too many people” in cycles, so you take his hand and squeeze it, a little surprised when he squeezes back.

“You owe me for this,” he reminds you before he has to leave again, playing as a setter for Hinata’s team in a charity Beach-Volleyball event.

And you do.

-

“Thank you,” you mutter into his sunkissed skin later that day, his body stretched out alongside yours, too tired to move, too tired to care, too tired to do anything other than press into you.

“We didn’t even win,” he grumbles back, never too tired to point out the obvious.

“Still,” you curl a lock of his hair around your finger, press a kiss against the underside of his chin, “I like watching you.”

“Stalker.”

“Don’t pretend you didn’t pose for me,” you tease him, giggling when he squirms.

-

Kenma’s like a cat.

It’s the quiet affections that please him and the lack of attention that spurs him on.

If anyone would ask you if you feel guilty for using that against him, you’d have to say no.

After all, he knows your weaknesses just as well. And he’s not afraid of using them against you too.

[big-tiddy-bi]

Big brain time

So the joker has died and been brought back to life, right. So, what if all people who have been brought back are technically subjects of the ghost king. So what I’m saying Ghost king Danny and a legion of the finest ghost knights appear in the sky over Gotham to bring joker in to the ghost zone to stand trial. Also I think ghost have like written rights and I think vengeance is one because they are ghost and I think it sounds cool.

____________________________________________

Gothem may not be the most normal city, but a giant swirling mass in the sky oozing toxic green liquid was a first for most of citizens, but the Jason knew it well, well at least he knew what the liquid was. The pit raged within him, violent and unyielding.

The droplets of Lazarus pooled on the ground and on top of buildings creating puddles of glowing water. Jason as fast as he could put on his armor and helmet. The communicator was screaming in his ear as he ran to the top of his building to get a better vantage point of what was going on.

As if the situation could not get any weirder people started to crawl out of the water. People might not have been a good way to describe these things, but who cares about semantics wham the apocalypse seems to be right around the corner.

“Are you seeing what I’m seeing” dick asked over the coms, “because I think I just saw a centaur made out of a centipede and a Samurai come out of a Lazarus pool the came from the sky”

Replacement answered first “ I have three midevil skeleton knights and the headless horseman, so probably yeah”

“For the first time I how that scarecrow spiked the water” Steph responded “because I think I just saw the dog things from the first ghost busters and I didn’t think Damian needs another pet demon”

Before Jason could reply a blue woman covered in scales climes out of one of a pool close to him. When her snake like eyes met his he froze. Her voice was calm but she spoke with a Weight  to it. “Put down your gun, young one and go inside, our king will be herein a moment”

For some reason he felt like he was included in the “our” . With all the courage he had gained from his years of training he asked “ what do you mean our king?”

As if on cue lightning started to clash as something giant started to descend from the sky, the center was vaguely human shaped and looked like it was made of ice in one arm a black sword, on the other a red ring that looked like it was imbedded into the icy flesh of the beings body  strand of red trailing up its arm where the veins should be a cap rapped around its shoulders like someone cut it from the fabric of the universe. A crown floated above its head. It’s face look like someone scribbled it out in post prediction, Wings surrounded it, completing the biblical angel look.

“ My name is phantom” it began to speak “king of the infinite realms, defeater of pariah dark, protector of the living dead.” Phantoms voice was loud and forceful but it didn’t hurt Jason’s ears like it should, but his chest felt tight, not with fear but like someone grabbed his heart and was squeezing it. “My people have been tormented enough by your legal system’s incompetents.”

Phantom as the thing was called lifted up its sword to point in the Direction of  arkham asylum, as Jason fell down to one knee, his body forcing him to bow his head to phantom. Neither Jason nor phantom controlled this movement, but the pit.

“ the dead are mine” phantom continued “your dead are mine, their anger and hate are mine. The children you let die are mine, and most importantly the minute the joker died he became mine”

Jason’s head snapped up, he hadn’t killed the joker, that bastard was alive in arkham, no one had killed the joker, Unless he was brought back, but no sane person would bring the joker back, unless, but Bruce wouldn’t.

“Batman you have stolen my subjects rights to justice and vengeance, you and the people of gothem have until sunrise to bring the joker to me or one of my men, if not we will take him by force. Do not disappoint me”

____________________________________________

Tell me if it sucks, also I can’t tell if this courts as a fanfic so…

[mrs-gauche]

Let's talk (some more) about the Red Lyrium Idol

So, if there's anyone who actually read all of this and is for some reason still interested in even more ramblings, here is Part 2 of my way too long tinfoil theory/summary post about the red lyrium idol, and I swear, it's the last one. 😂 Again, I just needed to get this out before we might get the first real trailer TOMORROW and I'm proven completely wrong, because that's just so funny to me. lol

(Note: This post was written before the title of DA4 was changed into "The Veilguard", so the implications of this title for the narrative were not taken into account for any of this. 💀)

The Phylactery Theory

"A phylactery is a vessel, often a glass vial, containing the essence of a magical being. The Circle of Magi and the Chantry use small phylacteries filled with blood, to track down mages that turn apostate."

"Phylacteries, ironically, are a form of blood magic. When a templar wishes to track down a fugitive mage they will use the phylactery as a way of homing in on the fugitive by way of a "hot and cold" situation, i.e., the phylactery glows, becoming brighter the closer it gets to its respective mage."

In Tevinter Nights, the Carta assassin described the idol to feel rather heavy, like there was "liquid inside". In the 2018 teaser, we see glowing cracks creeping up the idol's surface.

Inquisitor: "You don't need to sacrifice a slave's life to make a dagger." Solas: "I suppose it depends upon the dagger."

(- Solas when talking about blood magic)

In DAO, the Arcane Warrior specialization can be unlocked while doing the "Nature of the Beast" quest line, in the Lower Ruins of the Brecilian Ruins, south the Elven Burial Chamber. Inside a small chamber which looks like a ruined library, there is a broken stone altar. A phylactery is hidden in the far corner of the room. When you touch the phylactery you experience the memories of an elven arcane warrior who has remained trapped inside of the phylactery for centuries. It offers to teach you the secrets of the arcane warriors in exchange for setting its spirit free by placing the phylactery on an ancient altar.

In the "The Hunt of the Fell Wolf" poem in JOH, there is an idol that seems to possess a spirit that is connected to a demon wolf in a way that he can only be defeated if both him and the idol/spirit are destroyed and struck down at the same time.

As demon-stone was shattered, Ameridan struck true: Beast and spirit—both felled at once, Though neither hunter knew.

The Black Vials are six small glass phylacteries that can be found around Ferelden. When the Warden takes a vial, the glass fractures and releases a hostile revenant. A revenant is a form of undead that is created when a powerful demon, usually that of desire or pride, possesses a corpse. Upon their death, each revenant drops a scrap of vellum/codex entry that reads:

"Bound by your true name, no mortal hand shall reach you."

In the Tevinter Nights story "Genitivi Dies at the End", Rasaan and the Qunari were searching for Solas' "true name".

In the final chamber of the Solasan temple, there's an ancient inscription that reads:

Faintly carved into the stone is a figure bound in chains. Two other figures have turned their gaze from the central image. "Pride in our accomplishments and in our hearts. That same pride became (a word meaning corrupted or altered) within him, he sought to claim (indecipherable), cast from favor and so he was bound." "Hidden from mortal eyes, death lies within."

A codex about an encounter with a revenant, 5:71 Exalted:

"[…] The descriptions of the creature's abilities were eerily similar to those our brothers at Marnas Pell encountered almost a century ago […]"

Solas' hideout in The Missing was located in the Deep Roads beneath Marnas Pell.

Cole's comments in Trespasser suggest that Solas was bound to Mythal.

"He did not want a body, but she asked him to come. He left a scar when he burned her off his face."

While Solas seemed to have burned her vallaslin off his face, could there be a chance that he is still bound to Mythal by his true name? Could it be that he is still bound to whatever part of Mythal is trapped within the idol?

Again, the ancient spirit in DAO can only be freed from the phylactery if it is placed on an ancient altar.

So, the question is, if the idol is indeed a phylactery containing Solas'/Mythal's blood and a part of her spirit that needs to be placed on its original location/altar to free her, and if it was ripped off its original location, then where did it originally belong?

The Place Where It All Began

In 2018, we got the first DA4 teaser, showing the idol in various close-ups as well as the focal point of this mural.

Look at how the idol is suspiciously placed in the very center of the circle/tambourine which we assume to represent the Veil.

Now, what else sits at the center of the Fade that is ever present and visible but cannot be reached?

Right, the Black City.

Again, the idol is very likely depicting Mythal's death.

Now, tell me, where do you think was Mythal murdered?

Or rather, where do you think did the Blight originate?

I'm convinced that the Black/Golden City is/was Arlathan. The place where the false gods were imprisoned when Solas created the Veil. The idol/blade was likely forged after Mythal died. The 2022 cinematic clearly shows that the Blight started to spread from the center of the Golden City before it turned black and began to consume the rest of the world, but seemed to have then been contained by the Veil preventing it from spreading further.

"Had I not created the Veil, the Evanuris would have destroyed the entire world."

Corypheus is physically covered in red lyrium. We can assume that he turned into a blighted creature when he entered the Black City, which was already black and corrupted when they opened its gates.

Red lyrium only began appearing throughout the surface of all of southern Thedas in crystalline nodes following the opening of the Breach.

In Future Redcliffe, a year has past with the Breach still open and the red lyrium has spread everywhere.

It is proven that the Veil is inedvitably getting weaker alltogether, and that it will eventually come down at some point, regardless of Solas' actions.

The Veil getting weaker correlates with the Blight spreading further. If the root of the Blight lies within the Black City, and if the Blight was contained/prevented from spreading further through the creation of the Veil, and if the seven Old Gods are connected to the seven imprisoned, tainted Evanuris and serve as seals to the seven gates/mirrors of the Black City, then this banter and these visuals make a lot of sense:

Seven semi-circles with two of them still “lit” and the “tambourine”/Veil looking more broken with each new update….

Seven Old Gods/Evanuris that were banished when Solas created the Veil…..

Seven mirrors shattering….

Seven gates of the Black City, which Kordillus Drakon prophesied will someday shatter and cover both the mortal and spirit realms in darkness….

Solas: Your Order… the Grey Wardens… Blackwall: What about them? Solas: The Wardens see themselves as the world's defense against the Blight, do they not? Blackwall: Yes… why do you sound so skeptical? Doesn't everyone know this? Solas: When an Archdemon rises, they slay it. What will they do when all the Archdemons are slain? Blackwall: Retire? Solas: Without Archdemons, there can be no Blights. Is that the reasoning? Blackwall: Right. Where are you going with this? Solas: Nowhere. I hope they are correct.

Varric: Give [the Grey Wardens] some credit, it's not like you can study the Blight safely. I may not like everything they've done, but without the wardens, we'd all be blighted by now. Solas: They've bought us some time, I will grant them that.

DA4 will likely be set ten year after the events of DAI. And the Veil has gotten even weaker/Solas might succeed in tearing it down.

In Tevinter Nights, Solas claims that whatever he's going to do will "save this world".

Maybe the idol will solely be used to destroy the Veil and merge the World and the Fade, in order for him to, quote, "casually reshape reality".

BUT, you know what was proven to be the ultimate power source for Dreamers to reshape reality in a time before the Veil?

Say it with me.....

Great. Dragon. Blood.

So let's go back and assume that the idol is a phylactery that contains some part of Mythal/blood and that Solas is somehow still bound to by his true name. Mythal was likely murdered in the Black City, which might've also been the catalyst for the Blight. Solas might want to enter the Black City with the idol. Again, the ancient spirit in Origins can only be freed from the phylactery if it is placed on an ancient altar.

So… What if Solas plans to bring the idol back to its original location and free her spirit?

The Mother's Return

"Why did Mythal come to you?" "For a reckoning that will shake the very heavens."

At last, let me put on the tinfoil hat one final time and break this all down.

*takes deep breath*

The fact that it is Mythal's mosaic that is revealed to be on the platform in that final fight with Corypheus (symbolically surrounded by red lyrium!), the same ruins that were once the foundations of the Temple of Sacred Ashes.

The Sacred Ashes of Andraste, which possesses healing qualities "unsurpassed by even the most powerful spells".

Andraste, who was said to be too weak to bear children, but then miraculously was able to give birth to two daughters later in life. Almost like something came into her life that enabled her to do so. Like, for example, drinking the blood of a Great dragon.

Andraste, who might have not only been a mage, but also an Old God Baby like Kieran, carrying the soul of Dumat.

Old God souls, which a certain person seems to be particularly interested in collecting.

Not the Maker, but Mythal being drawn to Andraste's Old God soul, like a moth to a flame.

Andraste becoming Mythal's host, but that host ultimately burned at the stake, so she had to find another one.

Fast forward a few hundred years. Mythal has found another host in Flemeth, who just so happens to make a bargain with Calenhad Theirin, making him, again, drink the blood of a Great dragon, to gain special powers, leading him to become the first king of Ferelden.

So she watches the Theirin bloodline, until the fateful day Alistair gets almost killed at Ostagar. So she swoops in again, nudging the course of history by saving Alistair and the HOF.

Next up is Hawke, whom she saves so Hawke could find the idol and free Corypheus, setting the events of DAI in motion.

In DAI, if the Inquisitor drinks from the Well of Sorrows and you listen very carefully to the super creepy background noises while playing the audio backwards, the voices of the Well will tell you to "Stop her" and something else that sounds like "She speaks the Calling".

The Calling. A voice, a song, dreams that will haunt the Grey Wardens. Just like a certain idol does.

The Calling, which will force the Grey Wardens to go mad and join the Darkspawn as a collective hivemind to wake the Old Gods, but only after they consumed the Archdemon's blood in the Joining.

A being controlling people as a hivemind?

Like the Titans guiding their children like a collective mind? Titans, whom Mythal was the first to kill and mine their blood and something else to create bodies for her own people.

"The First of my People do not die so easily." (- Solas in Trespasser)

An Archdemon cannot be killed, because their soul will just transfer to the nearest soulless darkspawn. Transfering the soul. The secret of effective immortality.

How do you kill an Archdemon?

By drinking their blood, slaying them and taking in their soul.

What is an Archdemon/Old God?

A dragon.

What WAS Mythal?

"The new ones are faithful to Mythal, but do not understand what she was in her fullness."

Mythal's entire image is based on that of a dragon, a form that in ancient times was reserved for the gods. Because before the Veil, it was the dragon's blood that gave those dreamers the power to shape reality, so powerful that they came to be worshiped as gods. But, I think, not only had Mythal the chief role in the pantheon because she had great dragon blood within her, but because…

Her true form IS actually a motherflippin dragon.

So. What did the Evanuris do in order to KILL Mythal?

They slayed her, drank her blood and each of the seven obtained a part of her soul, but instead of getting killed themselves, they sought to become essentially invincible through both Mythal's blood and the tainted Titan blood/red lyrium.

Let me quote this wonderful post by @virlath from a few years ago.

With her conquering of the titans, I think it’s likely that her blood is a part of the blight and the red lyrium corruption. Mythal ran the elves' lyrium operations. She had a connection to the titans and their children. She also stole knowledge of the Void from Andruil. Combining all this knowledge it makes sense that she could use this to her advantage once she was imprisoned and corrupted, because she had a connection to both dragon's blood and lyrium. She just needed a physical aspect- Flemeth, and now Solas, to act out her plans. The use of dragon fire in Dark Fortress is further indication that the combination of dragons and lyrium results in a massive power nexus. I think it’s possible that red lyrium is simply lyrium tainted with dragon's blood. More specifically, Mythal's blood. This is why dragons were strictly reserved for the evanuris in ancient elvhen times- because the key to their immortality and power was dragons and more specifically, great dragon's blood. Mythal had strict rules about taking on the form of 'divinity’. I think this was likely because dragons and dragon fire/dragon's blood was the true source of the evanuris' power, and is what allowed them to appear immortal. This could explain why the old gods are so inexplicably linked to the evanuris in the lore. I think the evanuris each had a dragon- an old god, and they each used dragon's blood and dragon fire to make their dreams into literal reality. No one could infiltrate their dreams because only they had access to the power of dragons, which they claimed was their right.

Before BioWare settled on dragons, the Archdemons were supposed to look very different.

Meaning that, each of the seven Old God souls…. is what?

Yeah, I think it's all Mythal's.

Again, WHAT did the voices of the Well tell the Inquisitor? WHO speaks the CALLING?

It's the voice of the one who's the real owner of that soul. The one who for centuries has been trying to gather the scattered pieces of HER SOUL, driven by nothing but vengeance.

"So Mythal endures."

If the idol contains a part of Mythal, and if Solas used the idol/blade to trick the Evanuris like in Dalish legends, maybe it was because they were desperate to destroy the idol and get rid of Mythal once and for all.

Remember the visions described in Trespasser.

“Hail Mythal, adjudicator and savior! She has struck down the pillars of the earth and rendered their demesne unto the People! Praise her name forever!“ “In this place we prepare to hunt the pillars of the earth. Their workers scurry, witless, soulless. This death will be a mercy. We will make the earth blossom with their passing.” “The runes say the Evanuris fought the Titans. They mined their bodies for lyrium and… something else. It’s not clear.” “They made bodies from the earth. And the earth was afraid. It fought back. But they made it forget.” "For a moment, the scent of blood fills the air, and there is a vivid image of green vines growing and enveloping a sphere of fire." “For one moment, there is a vivid image of two overlapping spheres; unknown flowers bloom inside their centers. Then it fades.”

A sphere of fire… you mean, like the SUN? You mean, Mythal actually creating a MOON, just like in Dalish mythology?

Bear with me here.

We established that Mythal mined the Titan's blood, which I believe was then used for centuries in combination with her fire to create bodies for her own people/spirits. On top of that, I believe that, after her victory, Mythal used part of a dead Titan and lifted it into the sky to use it as a "cornerstone" to build the capital city of Elvhenan, Arlathan, on top of her "enemy's corpse".

I believe that in the moment of Mythal's death, her blood altered the Titan's blood (which also sundered the Song) and that something happened to the moon that she had created, which in turn led to the unbridled power of the sun to corrupt part of the Titan that the Golden City, Arlathan, was build on, as well as both their blood. And that's when it turned black. That's when the Blight was created.

Elgar'nan is the God of the Sun in Dalish mythology. He was likely the main instigator behind the Evanuris' betrayal and Mythal's murder.

The sun imagery keeps appearing throughout DA4's promotional stuff.

If the Old God Lusacan is connected to Elgar'nan, they would represent two polar opposites. The God of the Sun and the God of Night and Darkness. Again, Kordillus Drakon prophesied that the seven gates of the Black City would someday shatter and cover both the mortal and spirit realms in darkness.

"All the world will soon share the peace and comfort of my reign."

“Lusacan, the Dragon of Night, calls to you. He lives where it is darkest and waits for the day he will rise. Drink of his blood and know the power in darkness: either fear the Night or wield it.“ "The darkspawn yearn to awaken and corrupt Lusacan to start a new age of darkness.” “A night that will never end”

But why does this need to happen? Because Mythal needs to act out her vengeance upon the ones who murdered her and doomed the world with the creation of the Blight.

"She was betrayed as I was betrayed! As the world was betrayed!" "Mythal clawed and crawled her way through the ages to me, and I will see her avenged!"

Solas wants to save his people no matter what, and for that, the Veil needs to be torn down, resulting in the World and the Fade becoming one again…

But, to truly restore his People, I believe that he needs the Mother to come back.

Mythal represents both Justice and Vengeance. If justice is corrupted, it will turn into vengeance. Solas makes no difference between spirits and demons.

"I am sorry as well, old friend."

That last line of Flemythal to Solas. It's so simple, but what does it truly mean? Why is she apologizing to him?

Is it because none of this would have happened if she didn't die and everything that happened to the people and the world was because of her downfall? Because it was her who started all this in the first place with the death of the Titans, stealing their hearts and corrupting their blood?

With her gone and no one left to keep the false gods in check, if it hadn't been for her death, Solas wouldn't have been left with what seemed to be the only choice?

Is she sorry for everything he had to endure, from her giving him a body against his will, twisting his original purpose, to him having to live with the guilt over the death of a world and an entire civilization for a thousand years?

Or is she apologizing for using him?

"An eclipse as Fen'Harel stirred."

"Cry havoc in the moonlight. Let the fire of vengeance burn. The cause is clear." (- Solas reciting Mythal's invication)

She knew that Solas would do anything at this point to undo his mistakes and save the people he doomed. She knew exactly what Solas would do when he came to her in that after credits scene in DAI. She knew that he would need that power and the idol to complete his ritual in order to tear down the Veil, but to what end?

Without the Veil, whoever controls the dreams controls reality.

[minniethemoocherda]

Am I Pretty Enough To Fucking Die?

A/N: Sorry it's been a while since I've posted! IRL stuff got kinda busy for a minute! But I hope it was worth the wait! Also this takes place before my last fic "Saying Something Stupid" Xxxxxxx

Ao3

FF.net

They should have realised the first time that they should have died.

They had spent so long in their human form back then that they had nearly been successful in making themselves forget what it was like to be in their natural liquid state. But subconsciously, they mustn't have had, as it was all too easy for Sinister to bring them back from death.

Countless of the countless experiments Sinister put them should have killed them. At times they wished that he had. But as much as it felt like he was trying too kill them, Sinister always brought them back to life.

It wasn't until when Sentinel-Trask shot a fireball at their face, and they heard Logan scream their name in a repeat of that first fatal night, that the thought first came to them. Because whilst the force of having their body ripped apart hurt like hell itself, it could only have been half an hour later that they were able to pull the burnt blobs of their body back together.

Logan refused to leave their side for at least a week after that and whilst Morph wasn't going to complain, they couldn't help but wonder if the extra protection was even necessary.

Morph had no idea about the science behind it but they knew that somehow they didn't need a brain to function. That the few times they reverted back to a full liquid state, just because they didn't have a physical brain to control them, didn't mean they couldn't. Whenever they were in a human form they would create whatever they needed to move their body, such as their heart or lungs or whatever gendered organs they were feeling that day, even though technically they didn't need them to function, as e it would hurt if one of those concocted organs were injured, as it was their cells that were getting damaged, at the end of the day, they could just shift themselves a new one.

They knew that there were other shapeshifters out there. Mystique being the most famous amongst them. Morph had never met her in person but they had read her file. They knew that she could also change their internal organs, it was how Nightcrawler had come into existence after all. And Beast theorised that she could shift at a cellular, maybe even atomic level. But her natural state was still human, a blue skinned and yellow eyed one but human non the less. Whereas Morph's natural state was as a pile of gloop.

Currently they were in what the team saw as their normal form, pale grey skin with a featureless face. The others did know that it wasn't their real form, but Morph doubted that many of them remembered that.

Except for Logan of course, who knew them better than anyone.

They were sitting besides The Wolverine now, a half forgotten game of go-fish scattered across the table between them and bottles of beer keeping them warm against the chill of the evening breeze.

Stealing glances at Logan wasn't anything new for them but this time was different. They gazed at how the last rays of sun illuminated the sharp edge of his nose, wondering how many sunsets that face had seen. Morph believed that Logan was a sight that they would never tire of seeing.

"You gonna keep starin' or are you gonna ask whatever's in that bald head of yours?" Logan grumbled after Morph must have been looking for too long.

The liver and stomach they'd created, digested the alcohol, giving their body a warm buzz, which was probably why Morph didn't think much before opening their mouth.

"When did you realise that you were immortal?"

Judging by the look on Logan's face that wasn't what he had expected them to ask but he answered anyway.

"The first time I remember getting shot in the head."

"Yeah but how did you know, for certain that you were immortal?"

"I don't. Not yet." Logan shrugged. "Beast reckons that gettin' my head cut off would probably do the trick but I ain't plannin' on testin' that out." He then fixed them with those sharp blue eyes of his. "Why?"

Morph took a deep breath. Honestly after coming out as gay and non-binary, this wasn't half as scary.

"I don't think I can die."

"Oh shit." Logan replied after a moment, rare genuine shock crossing his grizzled features. "You sure?"

"Not yet." Morph repeated back to him in his own voice.

"Well I definitely ain't helpin' you test that out either." Logan snorted as though the pair of them were just shooting the breeze, as though this conversation was a completely normal thing to talk about. As thought this was just nothing thing to add to the list of things they had in common like their love of beer, enjoying taking the piss out of Scott and past psychological torture.

But then Logan had always been the only one who understood them. It was what made him so easy to talk to. Almost too easy. Which made it hard not to tell him how they truly felt.

"Looks like you're stuck with me then old man." They said instead.

"Huh." Before Morph had the chance to reflect on that reflective tone, Logan continued. "Well I can think of worse people to be stuck for eternity with."

"Worse then me?" Morph said through the sharp teeth of Sabertooth's mouth.

"If you spend the rest if time dressed up at Creed, I'll kill you myself." Logan said, punctuating his point with the familiar snikt of his claws.

Then the crease in Logan's brow tensed into something sharper.

"Look, sometimes it's harder to be the one who survives. And just 'cus you can't die don't mean you can't feel pain." Logan stated, watching the sun as it finally sunk bellow the horizon.

They both knew that he wasn't talking about the physical kind of pain. It probably wasn't the healthiest conclusion to come to when dealing with ones own mortality or lack there of, but the thought that they couldn't stop coming back to was that it meant that they would never again be able to hurt Logan again with their death.

Then Logan put his claws away, stroking the red of his knuckles as he cleared his throat.

"So don't go looking for new ways to give us all heart attacks alright. I-we don't like seeing you get hurt."

"Trust me I'm not." Morph snorted. "You don't have to worry about me."

Steel blue eyes met their empty grey ones.

"I'll always worry about you."

It wasn't an I love you, and it probably never would be but, promising to care for them for the rest of eternity would most likely be the closest Morph would ever get and they would hold those words forever in their fabricated heart.

Morph honestly hadn't thought too deeply about their new realisation. After coming to terms with their gender and sexuality this was just another thing to add to the long lost of weird shit they'd learnt about themselves.

But it was a comfort to know that whatever life might throw at them, they would always have Logan by their side.

A/N: So the concept of Morph being made of gloop has really stuck in my head and got me thinking how they can function without organs and if they don't need them, then what could actually kill them?? Like they get blasted in the chest in the OG show?? Then Sentinal-Trask blasts them too and we even see them turn to gloop in that shot!!?? So yeah my latest headcanon is that like Logan, they too are potentially immortal! Xxxxxx

[marigold-hills]

Dunes & Waters, part 35

PART 1 • PREVIOUS PART • NEXT PART

It feels illicit going into the library at night, although they have written authorisation from the muggle admin and their wizarding counterpart. Even more like something forbidden because Remus holds Sirius’ hand the whole way through, not just to get them into the wards. He would be ashamed about how happy it makes him, if it wasn’t making him so happy.

Remus has his incantations written out, four spells to deities looking after the dead and the changing. Sirius stands next to him, close but far enough to be able to observe keenly, wand at the ready, protective spells tingling the air.

They put the Box on the floor, move the desks away. Spell the bookshelves and the walls with enough shielding spells that they shimmer.

It’s just gone midnight, when Remus decides he’s ready.

“I’ll start with Ur.Idim first. It’s the one we’re least sure of. Wepwawet last, since that already worked.”

“How pragmatic,” Sirius says in that low teasing voice he always takes when praising Remus, “very efficient.”

He’s got it all written out phonetically to avoid mistakes. Four pieces of paper with ancient words rendered in blue ballpoint pen. He wonders how long has it been since the prayers have last been spoken aloud, how many generations since the words he’s about to say have last been used.

“Oh, you Sycamore of the sky,” he begins and it works. The crystals in Lupus constellation shine ever so softly, barely noticeable, but he can feel the way the Box resonates back to him. Two heartbeats. Two minds. “May there be given to me the air which is in it. I have guarded this egg off the Viper. If it grows, I grow; if it lives, I live; if it breathes air, I breathe air.”

The Box makes a sound like an echo of thunder. A crack appears in between the top side of the Lupus panel and the rest of the Box, golden light spilling out of it. Sirius has his wand hand stretched out, the other towards Remus like he’s holding him back or holding him safe.

Remus puts down the first paper, the room so quiet like it, too, is worried to misshapen the spell they’re creating. He reads: “Open, oh Khonsu, the great door. I will swim by means of you, I will pass Therein as Thoth, I will fill my mouth with the braided lock of gold.”

The other constellation lights up, one tiny red star amongst the blue. Another crack, another slither of light shining in from within. Next page.

“Hail beautiful of face,” he speaks and Anubis’ eye lights up, “lord of sight, bound by Ptah-Sokar. Your right eye is the Evening Boat, your left eye the Morning Boat.”

The light from within the box shines through Anubis’ profile. Each of the Box’s edges become openings.

Remus knows it’s the last part, already knows this one works because it had before. The last piece of paper shakes in his hands.

“It is your lip that makes for you, it is the knowledge of your mouth,” he says, the words different in context of his day with Sirius, alive through speaking them into warm skin. “I have brought you your enemy, for him to be offered beneath you. I have balanced your mouth and bones for you.”

The moment he speaks the last words, the Box opens up like an origami bird. Unfolds at the edges, slowly falls flat. The light from inside shines a blinding sheen, then dies away. The inside is black, onyx-like, with hieroglyphs carved into the stone. A gilded cage floats above it, electric currents running through the prongs. Inside of it a flower suspended in the cradle of magic and a vial with pearl-sheen, whispy, mist-like liquid.

“Holy fuck, Remus, you did it.”

NEXT PART

@tealeavesandtrash

@moon-girl88

@hoje--aqui

@cocoabutterandbooks

@onion-sliced-apples

@prancingpony42

@digital-kam

@remoonysiriusly

@sweetstarryskies

@a-sunset-outside-my-window

@procrastinatingstuff

@annaliza999

@arasael

(let me know if you do/don’t want to be tagged!)

[mona07]

Proof Will has creating powers

So as we know for now, Vecna has all the powers we know of, (he’s kind of the full package)and every test subject has at least one of he’s abilities.

For example:

We know that Vecna has telekinetic and psychic powers, just like Eleven does.

We also know, Vecna is able t to manipulate mind and vision, like Kali.

But they showed us an other one of his powers which neither eleven nor Kali own. And this particular ability is what I believe to be will’s super power.

Will can create

So it all started in the very first episode, when the demogorgon got him in dnd and moments later he got stuck in the UD. And maybe that’s why the ud Hawkins is stuck in 1983. Will was scared and he was desperately searching for a way out. And maybe he was so longed for home, he subconsciously created the ud version of his home. Because we know for a fact, that the ud did not look like Hawkins when Vecna got there.

The fireball is kind of a trademark of Will the wise ( sorry I still have no clue about dnd😭) and fire is the only thing we know of that can cause significant damage to the UD

And I’m not sure if this means anything, but remember when Will had to draw green fireballs because he was out of red pencils and then this caustic, burning green liquid appeared? And that liquid helped them escaped from the russians?

It’s canon, that Chester, his dog has died after the events of season one. After that, one season later we have demodogs. And then, in season 4, in the trailer park, there’s a dog, and everyone who was seen by the dog or who interacted with it, will be targeted by Vecna.

Also his drawing for mike which represents a giant dragon, and then Vecna shows Nancy a creature with gaping mouth like-

And it can’t just be a coincidence that Will has the sense on the back of his neck where Vecna had that little device that repressed his powers.

So I do believe that as El has the power to destroy, Will has the power to create, just like Vecna. I don’t think Will is doing any of it consciously tho. ( English is not my native language sorry for the mistakes)

[patheticpeoplesupreme]

I have an au in my head and I have to write it down but like it’s super inconsistent sometimes

What if some great heavenly deity take Shang Qinghua’s soul as punishment for messing with the story _and_ losing all his points. Clearly Shang Qinghua’s not afraid of dying anymore so the system takes on a different punishment

They would’ve taken Cucumber bro’s soul too but Shang Qinghua used his writer skills and convinced them not to and he tries to defy the heavenly being

Being all like

“THIS WORLD IS MY CREATION!” He screamed from his cell, feeling all of the sensation in his body burning into a blaze, golden liquid falling from his fingers

But the heavenly being just scoffed uncaringly, “you have interfered with the natural rules of the world.”

“I—I didn’t choose to be born here, I didn’t choose to take this role!”

“You’ve de—((what’s that one word I swear it started with “de”

defected maybe??

Defected against the system?

Defended

De….. de something

Betrayed the system?

idk I’ll figure it out))

“I’m just a human.” He pleaded desperately.

“divinity flows through your veins, you can’t lie to me, rat.”

—

Just thought it was funny to think about SQH getting fucked over by the system/gods

I like to think airplane was one of the lesser deities

Airplane was a normal human on Earth, an author in his original world, but when he died, all that was left was his passion for his novel, all the love for it that was left unheard, unseen, from all the outlines, the drafts, all the pain, all the happiness and desire, it formed into a lesser deity

The soul didn’t have a consciousness at first, but the divinity attached itself to the soul when it settled through many deities. Eventually, the soul took baby sqh as his vessel and airplane began to remember his past life.

Bingge (?) I think, would be in a similar timeline, except Airplane never managed to gain a consciousness so he turned into a tree, mourning the world’s bad ending.

(I don’t actually know how transmigration works)

And about Cucumber bro,,, he’s the same, his hatred, as an opposite of Airplane’s passion, allowed his desire and memories to form into a soul with divinity, only, it’s a different type of divinity from Airplane. Because Airplane creates

And Cucumber bro changes

Maybe->

If their divine souls were to ever be revealed, airplane and cucumber remind me of the three sisters in Greek myth but slightly different

Clotho (Airplane) spun the “thread” of human fate, Lachesis dispensed it, (system) and Atropos cut the thread (Cucumber bro)( but instead of death, bro creates changes) thus determining the individual's moment of death)

Or Airplane could just be a god

**I put regrets down because Airplane died full of regrets, from the loneliness of having a broken family, from not being able to follow his true stories and stuff

**God of Forgiveness because Airplane wants to give everyone a chance to be happy, something that couldn’t happen to Shen Jiu or Yqy

As a god of forgiveness, he would’ve asked them what ailed them and helped them heal naturally (of course they didn’t deserve to be forgiven, they wouldn’t be forgiven and airplane wouldn’t give them a second glance)

Feel free to leave anymore possibilities in the comments or anon asks haha

[zukotheartist]

I'm a day late (bc... reasons) but for International Women's Day, I'd like to remind everyone here about what's happening in the Democratic Republic of Congo🇨🇩!

(I apologise in advance for my poor wording but please don't let that take away from the point and check out the links at the end of the post!)

People (not just women) in the Drc🇨🇩 are being displaced, tortured and killed at immense rates. They are also being enslaved and forced to work in mines under unsafe conditions, for long hours and with little to no pay, to dig out cobalt. The levels of rape there are so high that a lot of people with vaginas have developed a severe condition called Vesico Vaginal Fistula which often also leaves them ostricised from society (it creates a strong smell and makes liquid leak out constantly).

What is happening there is also a genocide, just like in Palestine🇵🇸. And very much like Palestine, it's because of greed. Western powers arm militias/rebel groups (backed by Rwanda) to enslave these people to be able to get cobalt - a mineral necessary for technology - much faster and cheaper.

Here on tumblr we don't talk about it as much, and there's of course a lot of anti-blackness too, but on tiktok and insta - awareness is starting to raise, slowly.

Congolese activists are telling us to NOT call it a "silent genocide" (a common phrasing that some people have been using recently) because this has been going on for decades and they've been talking about it for DECADES and it's not their fault we didn't listen/pay attention.

They are also calling for a TECH BOYCOTT, urging people to use the technological devices they already own for as long as they last and when it breaks, try to use the new one for as long as it lasts as well + try to buy the next ones second-handed or from companies that support congolese people or at least don't abuse them. Lots of people who vape have also decided to stop vaping for the boycott!

You know how Aaron Bushnell and an unamed woman in Atlanta (she's still alive! At a hospital) self-immolated for Palestine🇵🇸?

Well, a man did that for the Drc🇨🇩 too! His name was Cédrick Nianza! And he was only 25 years old, died a week after his brave act.

---

Please do your own research but for now, some places that you can check out are (in no particular order):

1) The Fistula Foundation!

https://fistulafoundation.org/country/democratic-republic-of-congo/

> an organisation that helps people affected with VVF in the Democratic Republic of Congo (and elsewhere too).

2) Friends of the Congo!

https://friendsofthecongo.org/

> a non profit with a lot of information about the genocide going on in the drc, with different sections that explain how to help (donating, sending emails, etc) and has a whole section about women and women's health.

3) Al Jazeera

https://www.aljazeera.com/where/democratic-republic-of-the-congo/

> A newspaper with a lot of information about the Drc🇨🇩 but of course also Palestine🇵🇸 and Sudan🇸🇩! > Sudan is another cause we should all be looking into as well because people there are also being displaced, tortured and killed.

4) a lot of people on Tiktok have made sounds and/or filters that generate money, through the creators' fund, that they are donating to the Drc and have shown proof of doing so! Meaning that literally just by watching their videos, commenting (ideally more than five words, not including emojies and avoiding the word "boost"), resposting, sharing, duetting, etc you are helping donate to the Drc! You can also make PRIVATE videos (you'll be the only one to see them or just your friends if you want) using those filters/sounds and it'll still work!

Here's some of them

https://www.tiktok.com/@pappyorion?_t=8kWuC3EkeUj&_r=1

^ he's on the ground! Showing us the conditions that the congolese people are living under and spreading awareness.

https://www.tiktok.com/@kentrello?_t=8kWtRtmCLeT&_r=1

^ has already donated 5500$ through views and also uses of his song for Dr Congo + by giving yoga lessons! He's also gone to the Drc himself and is helping with providing internet.

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGeyCajp9/

^ has also made a song (you can find it on Spotify too!) that generates money for the Drc! And has a whole playlist on her account that explains how much money one stream can generate + how many streams she's currently at, etc, showing proof! I understand that a lot of people here don't have TikTok but please check it out on Spotify, if you have it! She also has videos for Sudan🇸🇩!

There are a lot more tho so feel free to dm me or send asks if you want more recs!

---

And now some articles:

1) this one is from ABC news (of course always be critical when reading articles and especially when they come from specific sources), dated March 6th 2024

https://abcnews.go.com/International/us-court-absolves-top-tech-companies-congos-child/story?id=107839639

2) by Sahara Reporters (one of the only articles I was able to find about the young man who self-immolated for the drc), dated January 18th 2012

https://saharareporters.com/2012/01/18/young-congolese-sets-himself-fire-becoming-martyr-congolese-revolution

3) by Business and Human Rights Resource Centre, dated January 13th 2020

https://www.business-humanrights.org/en/latest-news/are-these-tech-companies-complicit-in-human-rights-abuses-of-child-cobalt-miners-in-congo/

4) by Al Jazeera, dated February 7th 2024 (m23 is an armed rebel group backed by Rwanda)

https://www.aljazeera.com/news/2024/2/7/thousands-flee-in-eastern-dr-congo-as-m23-rebels-advance-near-goma

---

When it comes to companies that don't abuse congolese people I've heard of 2 so far, and one of them seems to be congolese owned as well, BUT i haven't made much research into it because my phone is still functioning. So, I'll leave the names here but PLEASE do some research yourself anyway before you buy from them:

Okapius/Okapi Phones - seems to be congolese owned

Shift Phones - seems to be german owned but cobalt-free

---

We cannot achieve women's liberation without liberation for all! Liberation for 🇨🇩🇵🇸🇸🇩 and so many more places!

PLEASE reblog!! Or make your own posts!! Just PLEASE spread awareness!

[inkbats-writing]

Au where the differences between Danny's and Vlad's accidents had a larger effect on their halfa status than in Canon. Because when you get to it they were very different and the fact they had similar end results is annoying.

So imagine with me for this au that a halfa can be defined as a person dying while exposed to a massive amount of ectoplasm that it excellerates the ghost formation process but before the ghost can exit the body they are resuscitated binding the ghost to the human body.

With that definition nothing really changes regarding Danny's accident. He was electrocuted while within an activately forming portal. He was exposed and then presumably resuscitated by Sam and/or Tucker bringing him back. But it does change things for Vlad.

Vlad was hit with contaminated ectoplasm. Rushed to the hospital they're treating it like an exposure to a poisonous unknown substance. They try treatments that should flush it out or neutralize it. But it doesn't work. The amount is rising in his body and it hurts. It burns. It chokes his lungs, screaming as he was shot might have doomed him, and his bones feel like liquid even when not moving.

And he dies. Many times he dies with the hospital staff quick to bring him back fascinated by this weird and interesting case. But while the ectoplasm is enough to start forming his ghost half the contamination prevents it from forming fully before he is brought back.

So 'Plasmius' forms mind and obsession locked onto the pain and agony of his death but then he fades only to reform with the next death now with anger and hatred at his former friends for leaving him behind to fading and coming back with a desire to control.

And then on the final death...when the amount of ectoplasm in Vlad is both large and purer than it has been that final death finally forms Plasmius ghost form, but it forms wrong. Too many times did Vlad's ghost half change the source of his obsession but yet still remembering the precious, still consumed by them too.

So you get two beings then. Seperate but connected one cannot continue without the other. But unlike plasmius, vlad is not truly bound by an obsession like a ghost is. He is not forcibly stagnant with his emotions. He can still change and better himself without risking his health or core.

And vlad recovers, with Plasmius watching over his human half (weaker more frail but important and needing plasmius' protection to ensure they both survive) and vlad sees how destructive and cruel and evil his other half is and feels guilt at what he indirectly created.

He is to blame for Plasmius (or he feels that way) and he does his best to mediate the damage the ghost will do in his desire to follow his obsessions. He can't stop it all but plasmius will often let him choose the target (sometimes the best you can do is making something hurt less than it could instead of stopping it outright) but he knows this can't be a permanent solution not with plasmius worsening obsession with vlad as a person himself.

That's all I really have for that but I just kinda wanted to write it down ya know?

[arent-we]

I don't know if I should still continue the story I'm making here or create a new one (I'll hiatus the first story) Anyways what if Mashle characters x reader??

Need new works (I like to suffer)😙

A reader from other world or like been trapped inside a kinda abyssal zone and fights them (Childe reference) for thousand years, and when she finally got out, she became old and seen a little girl asking her for help which she did and gave the healing liquid in a bottle. Which is can only obtain in a dark forest and abandoned like church. The little girl thanks her and gave her immortality, divinity and her of course young self (Fu Hua👀), also she didn't died when she left the abyssal zone because the time doesn't exist there.

The reader's personality there will be gonna mature, wise and probably hopeless of romance.

So how did she came to Easton? Let's say Wahlberg saw her and asked her if she wanna be a student there and said she will just gonna protect them without others noticing or like the secret wild card of divine visionaries?

I'll finish it that story but first need your opinions ❤️

Give me some ideas for the reader some magic, she can have cosmos as her main magic. Yes she's op because why not? WHY NOT? And some she likes, dislikes, and favorite word because reader✨

Edited:

What if she's also wearing a veil hiding her face? No one still seen her face. I love those who likes anything I post especially my followers 🥹❤️ y'all beautiful, Spoiler: she have like boa Hancock and komi face

[phantomoftheskies]

IT’S BACK! FINALLY- THE ONE, THE ONLY, TONE-DEAF BARD HEADCANNONS PART TWO!!

Who knew I’d get super sick on Venti’s birthday and then forget all about this? Not me- but uhhhh it’s here now! Soooo…

Sorry •^•

-Venti got his cat allergy from the nameless bard, as well as his hatred for cheese.

-When Venti first shifted into a human form, he didn’t know how to use it. It took many tries to really grasp how to walk, and especially how to talk…

-Adding onto that, when Venti first tried to talk, only squeaks would come out of his mouth, although he adapted to basic language rather quickly.

-When first grasping the human concept of “love”, Venti was weirded out by the thought of a kiss- it just really didn’t make sense to him. Why would people press their faces together to show affection? That’s disgusting!

-In his spirit form, when he drinks water or any liquid, it looks as if he’s absorbing it like a sponge because he hops inside the liquid and it slowly dries up as it’s inhaled into the void.

-Zhongli and Venti share a special relationship, but are famous for keeping how close they are to each other a secret. Some of the archons think they’re married, while others think they hate each other. It used to be a guessing game between the gods about how much they care about each other.

-Venti’s weak point in battle is that he’s much more reliant on air than other beings. He can’t stay underwater for long, and being choked will render him unable to throughly connect with Anemo.

-Mr. Fox and the Clockwork Guardsman is a reflection of Venti and Zhongli :) also if you haven’t read the storybooks in the Archive they’re actually so good you should

-Venti actually chooses whether to be drunk or not. Sometimes he’ll decide that he wants to be drunk, and deliberately lets the alcohol affect him while other times (AKA almost never) he chooses not to get drunk and simply enjoy the flavor of the wine.

-Venti’s worst fear is to be trapped alone, which is why he’s so afraid of his slumbers

-During his slumbers, Venti dreams of an almost alternate reality of Teyvat, where everything is perfect. Khaenri’ah never fell, the Original Seven never died, etc etc

-When he wakes up, he usually secludes himself for several days as he tries to recover from thinking that that was reality, only to find out it isn’t.

-Ehe~

-Venti is very self-conscious of his singing, despite what he acts like- but not in the way you might think. The voice he uses is the nameless bard’s voice, so whenever someone compliments him on having a beautiful voice, he silently feels guilty because he feels like he’s stealing the nameless bard’s praise.

-When archons cry, their tears glow the same color as their element because of the pure elemental energy in their bodies.

-Venti can speak to animals (proven by the NPCs outside Mondstadt), Sage claims to have seen a young green boy with white tights speaking to animals in the forest

-Venti hates mirrors because he’s reminded of the nameless bard every time he looks at himself

-Whenever Venti is embarrassed, his braids light up

-Since Venti canonically knows all songs past, present, and future, I like to think he really likes present-day k-pop songs and randomly starts singing them and everyone just stares at him

-The archons have a tradition where, to celebrate a new archon’s rise to power, they create a gift for them unlike anything in the mortal world as of that age. The first ever kite was a gift to Lord Barbatos

-Venti fidgets with his braids a lot when he’s nervous

-The feathers on Venti’s fake vision are the feather pair he tried and failed to give to his friend- in one of his stories, it’s told that his friend wished to see birds, so he tried to get a feather for him and for himself. However, when he returned, the battle with Decarabian had already begun and by the time he found the bard, he had already fallen

[villainsimpqueen]

Barren Land Na'vi Lore Dump #1.

The Barren Land Na'vi were created by me when i wrote my fic "The Barren Lands" right after Avatar way of water came out.

Fun fact is that this fic caused many others to be inspired to create their own fanclans.

Some fanclans you should definitely check out would be @nin3kyuu Mountain Na'vi and soon Sea Na'vi. And @choclodox Night Na'vi.

Now to the L o r e .

Drop #1

Barren Lands Legends/Protectors. 

Eliana

Eliana would be there very first

'Daughter of the sun' 

Because she existed when the lands weren't desert. 

I was thinking about it being more jungle/wetlands like swampy or marshes until a piece of the sun (meteor) crashed and caused such a large reaction to their land it caused dust & sand storms blocking out the sun and killing the plants. surrounding all in darkness of the storms, many couldn't see, but she was one of the few who could, & she started gathering as many as she could to try to travel out of the storms. With new land changes came new predators that could spot them and lure them to death. 

She kept those she led from being lured away from pretty light displays as they were lies with sharp claws and beaks. 

Barren lands na'vi get their snake like patterns from her generation, as it once was a way to blend into the marshy jungle, now evolved to blend into sands. 

And the start of the possum genes evolution as many had starved to death due to the food sources dying. 

 she is the daughter of the sun

The protector of  Apxa of the srane sands- Golden sands 

The four stars around her are her children

"Once the Apxa of the Srane sands, was covered in darkness, the sun had dyed in the sky, our people could not see and where dying from thirst and hunger for they could not find food or water, Eliana was blessed with eyes of the sun, she lead our people through the darkness to food and water, until a new sun grew, She raised her children to bring light in ones darkness and to take away light from those who only bring darkness, when she died her and her children were blessed to be amongst eywa and help guide eywa's children of the barren lands.."’

Lytta, 

Lytta would be last. 

daughter of rage 

the red sands.

she would exist when the low mountain range started forming and the sands turned red. 

She was trying to raise a family in the landscape but she lost her mate and some children due to banished na'vi in desperation to survive and take whatever they could, The others she was losing to heat exhaustion as the land was getting hotter and hotter Between the banished and the climate change she started to go crazy and thus in desperation to protect her last surviving child she starting attacking and killing any that was not native to the land. Because it was so hot and temps kept rising, to keep herself and her child from collapsing in heat she would cut their hair bald. Which was seen as soulless because the Na’vi are so spiritually connected to their hair. 

All her attempts to keep her last child alive went in vain as a tribe of banished na'vi had attacked her and them to take the hunt she had killed to provide. 

When they took her child she let out a sound of pure anger and in time the heat burst from the sands and hit red liquid started to form. She had believed that this was the blood of her slain children and all the other natives that must've perished due to the banished and exiled na'vi. 

She had attacked the group killing all but one and told them to flee and find as many banished they could and tell them to leave the lands for if she found them, she would stain the sands red with their blood as they had done to so many of her children and others. 

She would not allow another unworthy and invasive banish make it deeper into the lands. 

This had caused many banish leave, more so to take chances to find other places to live or risk being caught from their old clans. 

And once they had mostly all  disappeared it was only then Lytta saw the red liquid stop and it cooled, leaving large (yet not so large) cool red rock structures. 

which became the low range mountains and she too let her rage settle and cool,as she knew only those worthy would be able to pass deeper. 

The sand was now red, a warning to those who were not worthy of the lands to flee or their blood would darken the sand.

(rich iron from the volcanic vents explosions and the high temperatures stained the sands.) 

This is more so where the larger ears like fennec foxes traits started to form and the more aggressive behavior traits started to form. As The need to listen for rivals sneaking up on you grew stronger and the need to be more able to defend yourself and offspring grew more. As the strong survived and the weak perished. 

Daughter of rage, The three that are with her are her children, She will guide you and protect the Nga whenua onepu toto- Red sands

"'Her home lands used to be golden,but long time ago Banished na'vi came onto our lands, they did not know our way of living and they tried to take the sands that were close to their banished homes, after losing her second born child, and mate, she lost herself from eywa and stained the lands sand with the blood of the banished, protecting ewyas children of the barren lands, She had lost all three of her children and her mate to the banished na'vi but our people where protected. Now banished na'vi do not last long on our lands if they come into our home with ill intentions to our people. "’

Tama whakaae, 

Tama  I think would be the second. 

As many clans at the time would  believe that there was no species or living in the desserts, and they deemed that place to be perfect to send the banished & exiles (basically to their deaths) and he was banished because he was fooling around with another clans leaders daughter (rivals( in secret and had mated to her which got then   caught, The daughters parents refused their mating, and wanted him punished or they would bring war to his clan. 

His clans leaders didn't want war nor did they have the warriors for it so they banished him to the deserts where he would die out there and never be able to connect to ewya again. 

Before he was chased out he stole a seed from his lands spirit tree as a way to "rebel"  about not being able to connect to the mother. (In desperation to have some sort of connection to the mother) He fled into the deserts, which he would find Na'vi there living, feral and brutal. He would also find other banished perished in the sand or withering away. 

He would make peace offerings to the native Na'vi  (golden sands) and learn to survive in which he taught other banished to survive, as they kept traveling they found the canyons with its blue clay, they followed them and found the blue sands, he would take the blue clay from the canyons and trunk from a young spiked plant and carry it deep into the blue sands and  combine the seed to that plant and bury it with the clay into the blue sands and grew the thorn tree, allowing those who had followed him, banished and golden sands to be able to connect back to Way over time.

This is where some of the barren lands navi have some clan structure and spiritual structure. While no longer as strong as others in full form clans and more broken and scattered practices that were twisted and turned to better suit the land.  

Accepted son, He will guide your through Whenua one puru, land of blue sands, and is the protector of the barren lands spirit tree

There are his two children around him.

"'He was a banished na'vi, He came to our home seeking shelter, He passed Lyttas tests and was allowed through Eliana's lands, She guided him through her lands, to sands that were dull of life where no one could find him, He then planted a seed from his home lands and tended to it every day until it grew the spiked spirit tree, connecting our home and people to great mother eywa. To praise him, she blessed his sands to be as blue as his skin, so that he and his children may never be seen from the sands, He and his children protected and moved the tree so now the spiked tree moves on its own, He and his children will guide you to the tree, if they deem you worthy to Lytta and Eliana lands.”

Their constellation used by Barren lands na'vi to travel between the three sand biomes that makes up the entire Barren Lands.

And a rough map, which i will later redo.

Between the seperation of each sand biome are low range mountains, between the golden sands and Red sands, and cayons between the golden sands and blue sands.

The golden sands are the largest section of the barren lands.

Lore Dump 2

[the-goya-jerker]

Immersion (Piss Christ) by Andres Serrano requested by @nintheyeblinder

This piece is part of a series by Serrano including other classical statues submerged in various liquids (blood, milk, etc.)

It is not, despite what some believe, anything against Christ or the religion that follows him. Instead Serrano had this to say about it:

"What it symbolizes is the way Christ died: the blood came out of him but so did the piss and the shit. Maybe if Piss Christ upsets you, it's because it gives some sense of what the crucifixion actually was like...I was born and raised a Catholic and I've been a Christian all my life."

And listen, I'm not into piss. (I also feel like Serrano should have been drinking more water when he made this piece in the 80's, but I digress). But I think that's a cool fucking sentiment. It's one I do agree with, despite not being any form of Christian. Death is fucking ugly. You shit yourself, you piss yourself, it's gross. And you know what, that isn't because death is unique either. Birth is gross, there's blood, the birthing parent is probably gonna shit themselves and not even know. Humans are gross in general. We're nasty creatures.

Too often in our modern hyper-sanitized culture we try to distance ourselves from the aspects of our nature that repulse us. Death, aging, sickness. You cannot so much as discuss piss without someone making some comment about piss kinks, essentially raising the accusation of what they perceive to be sexual deviance in order to shut you up.

To the surprise of none of you, I am sure, I think this is awful. Our distance from death alienates us from our own mourning. Our revulsion at aging has ten year old girls creating half hour skincare routines to manage wrinkles. I think in talking about humans, which Jesus was, we should not be so distant from the topic of piss and shit. In talking about human death we shouldn't refuse to admit that the human will piss and shit themselves. Jesus, the super duper holy figure of Christianity, would have pissed and shit himself! That's nasty, that sucks! But it's true! If you feel uncomfortable with that and you're Christian maybe you haven't considered the suffering crucified people faced in the Roman Empire. If he's your savior, why would you refuse to sit with that?

I think this is a lovely devotional piece. I love a good devotional piece... I do keep thinking about the smell of that piss though, man. And I keep thinking about Serrano's hydration...

Ultimately, it's not my vibe, but if I don't look at the picture and I meditate on the actual meaning, it is kinda hot. It kinda makes me wish I was Christian. Or into piss.

3/10