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avocad1s · 1 year

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Bring Back What Once Was Mine

Chapter Summary: You finally confront the False Creator

Characters Mentioned: Tsaritsa, Dottore, Lumine, The Imposter

Content Warning: Cult and Religious themes ahead! You've been warned.

Reader is the true creator of Teyvat. GN! Reader

Part Six Part Seven (You are here!) Part Eight

I had a bit of help on the beginning from someone who doesn’t even play Genshin 💀

Like always. This isn’t beta read 🗿 forgive me for any mistakes.

The creation of Teyvat was something Celestia would never forget.

The world was vast, full of untold wonder and color. Celestia could not have imagined something so beautiful. Yet, it always so eerily quiet, astoundingly quiet. For a while, just the two of them was enough to sate the needs of the creator. Something was missing from this new creation, something was lacking and the creator felt unfulfilled for some time.

And then the Creators loneliness returned.

“What’s the point of having all this space without anyone to share it with?” Is what the Creator would say.

No matter what protests it had, Celestia wouldn’t dare go against the Creator. So they watched, watched as they created life to live on the world.

Evening fell on Teyvat, and The Creator had been gone since morning to oversee the change of seasons. Celestia had kept a watchful eye over the creator from above. They had grown weary from watching them growing ever closer to the Gods and mortals of this world.

A small child had gotten separated from their mortal familiars. For many hours they wandered in the treacherous forest. A strong river flowed near by, and the rivers end was slippery and steep. Thick mud and gravel lay at the river bed and it was beginning to rain, turning the once calm river into a torrent.

Closer and closer the child came to the river, through the wooden thicket collecting small cuts and scraps from the lower brush. For a child so young, the cold would take them if the river didn’t. It happens more often than not, a simple thing.

In the beginning, the creator would have turned a blind eye to the nature of the world. Yet, Celestia watched The Creator follow the small child into the thicket. The child wailed and cried, but they found no comfort in the dark. The river’s edge was so close now, they slipped on the wet grass.

Celestia waited for the splash, but none came. Looking down yet again, small tears edge the child’s face but they were drying from the heat they radiated from the Creators chest and arms. They had wrapped them in their cloak and were carrying them across.

Celestia felt a small vexation toward the child, and noticeably was counting the centimeters that separated the two of them, and finding the measurement inadequate.

Time was an irrelevant thing to Celestia, unlike the mortals on Teyvat, it had no fear of growing old and dying. It knew that one day, the Creator would return, Celestia just had to be patient.

Yet decades, no centuries pass and the Creator never returned, never reached out. They continued to interact, continued to love the life that resided on the planet.

It burned inside to know that the second creation received more attention. Oh how Celestia craved even a fraction of the attention Teyvat received.

And then among the chaotic emotions Celestia experienced, the Creator left. Celestia scanned every part of the world and found only traces of them. Mortals weeped due to their disappearance but Celestia had faith. It would finally bask in the grace of their Creator, maybe they weren’t forgotten, weren’t the second choice.

Celestia spiraled into despair after that. The hope it held on to that the Beloved Creator would return diminished. No matter where it looked, Celestia never found them.

Celestia had no regard for life on Teyvat, looking down on it only made Celestia remember that the last time the Creator was seen….. it was on this planet.

If it could, Celestia would desecrate every atom on this world until there was no evidence of its existence. Listening to the foul ramblings of the so-called Gods who witnessed the Creators greatness; and expressing how much they missed Their Grace was more than Celestia could bare.

No one could fathom the loss Celestia did.

Why couldn’t they reach out to them? Beg them to return?

Celestia would do anything to get Their Grace to return, consequences be damned.

Sumeru City was finally in view.

With every step you take, you could feel an indescribable amount of dread being placed on your shoulders. Your mind was racing with endless possibilities of reality. What might happen once you were face-to-face with the imitator, and if it was Celestia, would they bend to your will?

“Your Grace…”

A voice breaks you from your thoughts, and you notice that the group has stopped. All of the them were looking intently at you.

“Are you alright?” Lumine asks softly, “you’ve been quiet.”

A soft sigh escapes your lips, “we need to find a way to discreetly enter the City. If we draw any attention we’ll lose our advantage.”

Dottore saunters over to you, “Your Grace,” he bows a bit, respect radiating from his figure. “I have a way for us to enter the City, if you’re up to it”

You look into his mask trying to sense his intent.

“Well? What is it?”

“A sound wave,” he explains, “it can put people to sleep, it doesn’t work on Gods.”

“Wait, Your Grace,” the Traveler approaches you standing on the opposite side of Dottore, “that doesn’t seem safe, are you sure you trust it.”

“You are really going to let your personal feelings get in the way of the plan?” the Tsaritsa says coldly crossing her arms.

“Well do you have a better idea?” You ask. Lumine closes her mouth with a downcast gaze.

You turn your gaze back to the doctor, “then we are going with your plan.”

You notice him smile underneath his mask, “of course Your Grace,”

Something is…. off.

The Imposter could feel it deep in their bones. The grating voice of the thing that created them rang in their head on loop. No matter how hard the Imposter tried, they wouldn’t have a moment of peace.

However, what is peace when you are a poorly constructed imitation of something far greater?

Their only job was to get the true one to return, they were supposed to talk like them, act like them, be them, but they were a puppet. With no will of their own, all they had were the unbreakable strings that left them tethered to their creator.

‘Once they return, I will free you’ it said.

Is freedom what they wanted? When the real one returned, would they be granted that privilege?

For hundreds of years they pretended to be them, and they know for a fact that they had lost the purpose long ago. All they were was a tool their creator used to intact revenge on what it believed to be the reason the real one left.

The Imposter nails dig into the palms of their hands as they grit their teeth, how is it possible for someone as infamous as the Traveler to disappear without a trace?

Suddenly the doors are pushed open and a guard comes staggering in breathing heavily, “your Grace!” He shouts, “everyone has suddenly fallen asleep!”

The Imposter tilts their head raising a brow, “what? What do you mean everyone has fallen asleep.”

The guard hunches over holding his stomach as he tries to catch his breath, “I was doing my rounds when everyone near the entrance collapsed. I came here to tell you immediately.”

“And you decided to come here instead of checking the problem out yourself?”

The guard opens his mouth to speak but quickly shuts it when they lift their hand up. “If you want to be useful then go check it out, I have no need for cowards.”

The guard stands up straight nodding quickly before exiting the room.

The Impostor let’s out a long sigh, so the time has come.

Unexplained circumstances like this could only mean that the Creator was approaching. Even though the Imposter had no true connection to them, they knew the Creator was near since Celestia’s instructions repeated louder and louder in their head.

The Imposter already knew that once the Creator enter these door they would be put on the back burner. Celestia would use their connection to take over their body and talk to them itself.

Moments later the large double doors again and a beautiful woman with white hair enters gripping the arm of a blonde haired girl. They both stand in the middle of the room staring at her on the throne.

“Your Grace.” She says coldly staring at them. “It seems that your guards are not trained well enough to bring you what you ask.”

She pushes the blonde girl on the floor, presenting her as if she was a gift.

The Imposter stares quizzically at the two women, “Tsaritsa. After you had kicked me out of your nation and told me to never return, you now show your face.” They cross their legs a smirk on their lips, “and the famous Traveler, you lied. Right to my face! But now you are groveling at my feet.”

They let out an amused laugh, “did you finally realize the consequences of your actions?”

Lumine stays on the ground as the Tsaritsa casts her gaze down at the floor, trying to come off as apologetic as possible.

“I am here to apologize. It was blasphemous for me to forsake you the way I did.”

“That was decades ago,” the Imposter explicates, “why should I trust you now?”

“I’ve heard you were looking for the Traveler, so I brought her as a peace offering.”

The Imposter stands from the throne walking down the stairs, their steps echoing throughout the cold room. “And how is it that out of everyone, you managed to find her?”

Before the Archon could respond the Imposter speaks again, “I just find it very hard to believe that after all these years you finally decide to come and apologize.”

They stand from their throne walking slowly down the long staircase their footsteps echoing throughout the room. Once they stood in front of the two girls, a cold look replaces the facade that has been on their face for years.

“Prove it.”

The Tsaritsa’s eyebrows raise slightly, “Pardon?”

The Imposter crosses their arms, “prove your loyalty to me.”

Lumine looks up from her spot on the ground a concerned look on her face, what could they possibly mean?

“How should I prove it?”

They point down at the Traveler a blank look on their face, “kill Lumine.”

“Kill… Lumine?” The Tsaritsa repeats.

The Imposter nods, “I have no care for outlanders and she has committed the biggest act against me. If you want my trust, you’ll end her life.”

The room falls silent as it starts to grow incredibly cold, to Lumine, it was unclear if the chill in the air came from the Cryo Archon or if it was due to the Imposter’s shell finally cracking.

“Well,” they say, “what’s it gonna be?”

Right Outside The Door

You had decided to send the Tsaritsa and Lumine into the room alone while you, Dottore, and Paimon stood right outside the door. You wanted to listen for a moment to know exactly how the Imposter acted to pick the best course of action.

And to see if you can feel any resemblance to Celestia before you were face to face.

“What are you gonna do?” A high pitched voice asks.

You notice Paimon floating near you a concerned look on her face. If she didn’t talk, you would’ve assumed she was anxious from being away from the Traveler but it seems her worry was all on you.

“If Celestia is at fault what will you do? Will you…” she trails off but you knew what she was going to say.

Getting rid of Celestia wouldn’t be an issue for you physically. As powerful as it was, Celestia could never overpower you no matter how hard it tried.

However the guilt you will feel if you get rid of it would be immeasurable, Celestia was your first creation and throwing it away as if it were trash would break you.

‘Why should I trust you now?’

You wince, maybe your plan of having the Tsaritsa apologize wasn’t as great as you thought it was. Even having the Traveler wasn’t enough to quell the worries of the Imposter.

You hear footsteps echo throughout the room, what could they be doing?

“I will do what is necessary…” You say truthfully to the fairy.

You push open the door slightly to sneak a peek of what was going on in the room. The Tsaritsa and the Impostor stood face to face while Lumine was on the floor.

‘Prove if to me’

‘How should I prove it?’

The next words made your blood run cold and you weren’t the only one. The color had drained from Paimon’s face as no other words were spoken in the room.

‘Well, what’s it gonna be?’

Your body moves on its own and you push open the door causing the trio to look at you. Lumine gives you a relieved glance while the Imposter’s eyes widen at your unexpected entrance.

Their cold look is replaced by something you couldn’t describe as they take a few steps back, “it’s you…”

You walk towards them slowly, “your reign over my creation is over.”

You payed no mind to nothing else in the room, everything was leading to this moment. Everyone who had helped you over these past few days had lead you right here.

The Imposters entire demeanor quickly changes, the look of surprise that was in their eyes replaced by a neutral smile as they stared quietly at you. You hadn’t even talked to them yet and they seemed completely different already.

“You have been on Teyvat for a while, but we now finally meet…”

You stare at their face blankly, not saying a word.

They took note of your silence and continue speaking, “I’ve waited a long time for you. Now that the time has come, I don’t know what to say.” They chuckle a bit.

You feel your heart sink as you close your eyes, “Celestia…” you whisper.

The Imposter’s posture fixes as a look of gratitude spreads on their face. “You’ve been gone for so long I didn’t think you’d recognize me anymore.”

“Even with this mask you wear, I will always recognize you.”

The Imposter, or rather Celestia takes a few steps closer to you, “I have missed you, my Creator.”

You take a step back, “You steal my face and caused pain to the life I created in this world, why? Why must you betray me like this?”

They stay silent for a moment as if they were choosing their next words carefully, “you left me…”

“I… left you?”

“it was supposed to be just us, then you had to go on and make this world then the life on this world.” The frown spitting the words out like venom. “You discarded me as you spent all your time here and then you just left!”

They snap their fingers to emphasize the meaning behind their words. “I was just a toy to you, and all I wanted was for you to come back.”

So this was its reasoning for everything it did, simply not giving Celestia attention made it act as if it were a child.

“You’re right, it was wrong of me to leave with saying nothing. Especially after not interacting with you for decades… but the doesn’t give you the right to mess with something that doesn’t belong to you.”

You bring your hand out gripping their chin forcing them to meet your gaze, “if you truly cared for me, you wouldn’t have done what you did. You are selfish.”

“I am so-“

“You’re not sorry,” you interrupt, “you’ve done this for decades, if you truly felt regret, you would’ve stopped long ago.”

You and Celestia stood right in front of each other as they look you right in your eyes, being reprimanded by you was their least favorite way of getting your attention.

“Giving you any rule over Teyvat is my biggest mistake.” You hiss, “I thought that after the Archon war that I could depend on you to keep life on Teyvat in order, but all you did was abuse your power.”

Their face falls a look of total devastation on it, “My Creator-“

“I don’t want to hear it!” You snap, “you’ve done enough damage.”

The room falls silent, no one behind you dared to speak up only watching the interaction between the two of you. Through the vessel, Celestia stares at you with trembling lips and watery eyes.

“You will return where you belong and never return to Teyvat again.” You demand.

“And what will you do?” Celestia stammers.

“I have to clean up your mess, you used my face and disgraced me on my own Creation. You’ve made people fear me and you say you did this all because you love me.”

They hang their head down in shame, “please forgive me, My Creator… disgracing you was never my intention I just…”

“You just what? Acted like a child to get me to return?”You let out a sigh, “don’t make this any harder than it already is. Just leave.”

The color from their face drains as their body goes limp in your arms as if it was a doll and if you weren’t talking to it just a moment ago, you would’ve believed that to be the case.

Footsteps from behind approach you slowly and you feel a warm hand in your shoulder, it was Lumine giving you a sad smile. “Are you alright Your Grace?”

You look down at the now empty vessel that was in your arms, “I should apologize. To all of you. You told me that it was Celestia this whole time and I didn’t want to believe it.”

Tears threaten to spill from your eyes but you quickly wipe them away.

“Now that the Imposter, erm- Celestia, is gone. What happens now?”

“Everyone else deserves to know the truth.” You mutter, “reversing all the damage Celestia has done is the most important thing right now.”

“Your Grace,” you hear the Tsaritsa call out as she approaches standing in the opposite side of the Traveler. “No one is going to blame you for this.”

“I blame me.” You look at the Cryo Archon. “I’ve should’ve been here.”

Despite the enormous amount of guilt you had for allowing everyone to suffer in the hands of Celestia for so long you knew you couldn’t dwell on it right now. Getting to every nation and telling the truth is more important and figuring out what to do with Celestia still sits in the back of your mind.

Even after all the terrible deeds it’s done you needed to have a proper conversation with it. It’s clear that the floating island still had lots of love for you but it was blinded by their jealousy. Was that enough to let them off the hook? If you decided to go off-world again would they just do the same thing?

You knew that you must sever the connection between Celestia and Teyvat, even if you do decide to forgive them, you couldn’t trust them with the well-being of this planet anymore.

You pick up the now lifeless doll draping it over your shoulder, “I am going to Celestia, it shouldn’t be gone online but once I return I will fix everything. I promise.”

Since you had no reason to his your identity anymore, you could use your powers. Not that there was any other way to get to Celestia without teleporting.

“I appreciate all of your help, and for telling me the truth. I won’t forget what you’ve done for me.” You express.

Lumine and Paimon smile at you, “you’re our friend, of course we’d help. While you’re away we will let everyone know the truth.”

“I will have my harbingers do the same,” the Tsaritsa says quietly to you.

You give them a small smile, “thank you. I will return soon.”

The group watches you leave without another word leaving them alone in the room where the False Crestor resided. The Cryo Archon turns her attention to Dottore, who had not said nothing during the entire encounter.

“Inform the other Harbingers of the situation.” She orders the coldness in her voice returning. He nods at her order not putting up a fight, leaving just as quickly as you did.

She turns her attention to Lumine, “I knew we’d meet eventually but I didn’t expect it to be like this.”

The outlander nods, “me either…”

????

He was beyond frustrated.

He knew that when he met the Creator in that tent, he should’ve brought them with him. No one would be able to help them better than he could, but that stupid woman they were with had stopped him before he could even ask. Oh how he wished he would’ve gotten rid of that woman, but if he had hurt her, the Creator would’ve never heard him out and that’s the last thing he wanted.

He runs a hand through his hair letting out a annoyed sigh.

“Your Majesty,” an Abyss mage approaches from behind bowing.

“What!” The Prince snaps, he was not in the mood to deal with any failures right now.

The Mage shrinks back glancing up at him, “We have been following Their Grace without being detected as your ordered. They have defeated the False Creator.”

He feels a smile spread across his lips, “finally you have brought me good news.”

“But” the Abyss Mage continues, “there’s one other thing.”

“Hmm? What is it?”

“Your sister. It appears she was helping Their Grace the whole time…”

The Prince stands from his seat his braid blowing in the wind, Stormterrors lair never failed to be windy. “And is she aware of my… involvement?”

“Their Grace never mentioned you.” The Abyss Mage answers and the Prince nods.

“It seems that Lumine is finally becoming aware of the truth of this world.”

The Prince could feel the excitement bubbling in his chest, finally he could see you again without any interruptions, the Archons, the Adepti, and Celestia itself means nothing in your presence and he could not wait to bask in it once more.

Note: The last chapter will be fairly long as it will deal with your travels to every nation(besides Fontaine and Natlan lmao) including Celestia and the Abyss. Lots of characters will appear so if there’s anyone you’d be interested in seeing let me know! 🙏 Sorry for the almost two week wait for this chapter but I kept rewriting it because I couldn’t figure out if I wanted Celestia to be evil or not 💀

Taglist: @esthelily @the-dumber-scaramouche @grimreapersscythe @seawater-aurelia-writing @probablynoposts @genshin-impacts-me @itsredactedlove @chidouna @thedevioussmirk @hoo-hoo @chaoticfivesworld @akemiixx01 @lunarapple @nowords-onlybreathing @fangirlinindia @veyu002 @blackcoffex @kaveh-is-pretty @ariasdream @averycuriousperson @bloopthebat @chuuya-brainrot @crazydreamcat @sparklyphantom @multistanbee @bluebelony @mokakoto @mega-trash-cringe CLOSED

#genshin cult au #sagau #self aware genshin #genshin sagau #genshin impact sagau #sagau x reader #imposter sagau #sagau impostor au #genshin cult #sagau lumine #sagau tsaritsa #sagau dottore #sagau aether

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pr3ttyb0ym2g · 4 months

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GUILTY CONSCIENCE ꒰ADAM 𝘅 gn! 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳꒱

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 ;; Angst, disturbing content. Adam killed you and is now in Heaven's court. He feels guilty, horrified by what he did. But regardless, his guilt will continue to swallow him whole. 𝘼/𝙉 ;; I wanted to write smth more intense and raw, more THERE. Because why not? Also chose Adam because uhm.. He seemed fitting here. I hope this is gut wrenching, I put some feelings into it but idk if it just comes out goofy and cringey so, feedback is loved.

Adam was sweating heavily in front of Sera. His robe's collar suddenly felt too tight, he felt like he was losing oxygen. His vision was swimming and his breaths were shallow. "We have gathered here today to solemnly discuss the passing of one of our angelic brethren." Adam felt like he was gonna throw up as his body shuddered. He could feel everything around him, suddenly hyperaware of his own senses. He could hear the faint ringing in the back of his mind, a small bead of sweat dripping down the base of his neck, and the hairs on his arms standing up. "Adam, the first man, the court asks you to recount the events leading to the passing of [name]." He couldn't focus on what his peers were saying. He could only hone his mind onto the beat of his heart. "Adam." Ah, that was Sera, the head Seraphim and Adam's so-called manager. She was speaking, calling out to him. "Adam?" He felt himself shrink, shakingly crossing his arms over his chest. Where was Lute? Did they send her away just to isolate him? Adam needed his subordinate. As much as he hated admitting it, he couldn't stand being alone. For eons his greatest fear was loneliness. Yet he wasn't alone, pairs of eyes were watching him. God, where is Lute? He silently prayed for Lute to just burst through the large golden doors. He had hoped she'd act just like her usual brash self, arriving to defend him like she usually did during previous court hearings. "Adam! The court is demanding you speak." "Sera.." "Emily, we can't overlook this. This is a pressing matter." Why did he do it, just why did he? "Is it true you were with [name]?" A foreign voice spoke, it must be a prosecutor. It seemed familiar, Adam might have heard it before, he's been in too many hearings to count. "Adam, your silence will not be an answer." They addressed him so forwardly; all calling him Adam. He no longer felt like he was God's beloved creation. "Is it true you often fought with [name]?" And why did they say your name so much? It made his heart ache. Your name, something he'd always have on his lips. He wanted to say it again. He wanted to call you. But that's no longer possible. "Is it true you were with [name] that night?" That night, right, that dreadful night. "Adam, answer." They were too eager to hear from him. Were they always like this? He never remembered anyone wanting his attention this badly before. "Where is [name]'s body, Adam." The prosecutor sounded sorrowful, as if pleading to him. "Adam, please speak." "Adam, please, you have to tell us. Where is their body? We're all so desperate for answers. Please, just say something, anything. We need to know, we need to." Were you always this popular? It seems he forgot how much your presence actually affected others. He never really thought of your relations that much, so the idea that people would cry for you was horrifyingly shocking. "Head Seraphim, what do we do? He's unresponsive—" "Hell." Adam uttered, feeling like he was breathless. "Adam, repeat that." Sera feared the worst. "The body, [name]'s body— it's there. In Hell."

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illegiblewords · 6 months

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SOME ILLEGIBLE RAMBLES AND REFLECTIONS: THE DEAD THREE

Finished my first/main playthrough of Baldur’s Gate 3, and it’s had me turning over all sorts of ideas tied to Dungeons and Dragons lore. A bunch happens to be about cosmology so I'm slapping together one post about the Dead Three and a follow-up about deities more generally. Buckle up if you decide to proceed dudes. This is chunky and opinion/interpretation heavy. CW for mention (not extensive) of graphic violence and sex crimes during discussion of Bhaal and Yeenoghu.

MYRKUL

I get that there are multiple death-affiliated deities in DnD. Our buddy Jergal is the end of all things and the original incarnation of the concept. Myrkul stands for the experience of dying, decay, necromancy, graves, bones, and the fear of mortality. Kelemvor rules over the dead. Orcus is a demon lord and quasi-deity of undeath. Could prob go on.

I've read many different incarnations of death over the years. To set the stage on my Myrkul read, it bears mentioning that Terry Pratchett's Death is probably my favorite. I don't have it in me to see death as something totally malicious. It's very natural, and I tend to imagine that if there were to be an incarnation embodying it this persona would have an intimate view of all the love and grief, vulnerability and intimacy, ugliness and solitude, etc. that mortals deal with. Death has witnessed the end every living being faces, from the dawn of creation until now. Even if it isn't consciously accessed at all moments, death is ancient and experienced and not likely to be shocked by what mortals are capable of anymore. Mortals are small. Uncountably numerous though we are we are far outnumbered by the unliving. What are lives next to planets, to stars? Here I'd argue against assigning value according to how big or small something is, how eternal or how brief, how simple or complex. Everything that is, is a universe unto itself and deserves the gravity of that. It is also very mundane at the same time. To me, death needs to be able to balance the preciousness and commonality of life, of existence, on the tip of its scythe. Death needs to be able to deal with the most depraved beings to exist, but also with every beloved pet put to sleep. Every lost child or parent. Everyone who dies surrounded by loved ones and everyone who dies alone.

Initially, even knowing Myrkul in particular had been a mortal necromancer and not of particular moral standing--I had mixed feelings about him being the evilest of evil skeletons. He worked it well, but the idea of any aspect of death (or any character tbh) being flat evil felt off to me. Especially with 'we're all the protagonists of our own stories' being at work. People don't often look at what actions they'd consider to be evil then go 'I'm going to make myself that on purpose'. Disregarding morality maybe, but being evil on purpose is weird.

So I looked into further lore about Myrkul. One spot that gave me pause was that Myrkul as death (rather than the adventurer Myrkul Bey al-Kursi he’d once been) revels in inspiring fear of death and driving home experiences of loss. From what I found he isn't focused on the name of the individual holding the office of death, but for the force itself being feared. He can be bribed, and he will allow for necromancy/resurrections--but the fear and gravity of death is a sacred thing to him. Disregarding that is a pretty good way to get onto Myrkul's shitlist. I want to take a moment to emphasize the importance of Myrkul focusing on his portfolio over his own ego. That is far from a given in the DnD pantheon, and like I said he's a former mortal himself. It wouldn't be out of the question for him to be a petty and insecure deity. He could have been the sort of guy where becoming a god of death by itself wasn't enough power. If Myrkul was a different person, he might have wanted people to stroke his ego and say how strong he is. He might have been someone who felt inadequate as a god without that affirmation. He could have (as a character) been unsatisfied and forever wanting/dependent upon the views of others to define himself. The fact that he DOES focus on death and decay as forces rather than himself is a big deal in reading him imo.

Anyway. Myrkul's emphasis on death as something feared got me thinking about what would cause a person to put such weight on death being understood in its negative aspect. It struck me that this is actually a very common and even important thing. You don't need to demonize death to see it, either. If you value life as sacred, the idea of life being treated as cheap or disposable is horrifying. When you love something dearly, the idea of that beloved thing being defaced is beyond outrage. It's a kind of sacrilege. People who kill as casually as breathing, who revel in the permanent destruction of someone else, become a source of horror. The absence of love creates a sort of cruelty that can't even perceive itself. And it's not uncommon for human beings in particular to partake in this. Humans dance on the graves of those they deem enemies not because they're relieved to be safe, but because they glory in the end of other lives. They don't recognize that anything of value was lost. There is no tragedy in death anymore. Every gentle moment, every vulnerability, every tragedy in their opponent's life is something to be crapped on and gloated over. There is no greater insult to life itself. Myrkul stands as a reminder that such behavior cannot stand. You can't treat life or death as cheap. To see something horrific and fail to realize the weight of its horror is itself a form of horror. The idea of a death that demands to be acknowledged for what it is, particularly by the living, imo actually denotes a level of care for life too. It might be harsh or ugly, but I don't know about evil. So while Myrkul is certainly flawed and often serves as an antagonist, I’d argue the function he performs is not only important but necessary.

And while it might vary between players, I found Aylin's enthusiastic executions and body defiling pretty uncomfortable. I understand she went through a lot and am fine with her as a character. But I think Myrkul's point stands if the audience feels even a moment of disquiet seeing her celebrate over the corpse of a broken person.

Some things are meant to be ugly.

BANE

Of the Dead Three I find Bane the most disturbing and dangerous tbh—but not for how Gortash invokes him. Way I see it, the other word for tyranny is authoritarianism on a macro-level, abuse on an individual level.

I’d argue that in life, we can only healthily control ourselves and our own individual actions/choices. We can try to persuade others or appeal to their judgment, but we can’t MAKE another person think or act how we wish. When folks attempt otherwise (individually or more broadly) it involves fear, force, deceit, or other forms of pressure. Coercion, enslavement. These fall under the umbrella of tyrannical practice to me. You treat another person as subhuman and strip them of agency.

We don’t live in a pure and ideal world. If a tyrannical person is committing crimes and denying others their free will through force, I wouldn’t call defense through force tyrannical as long as it wasn’t needlessly excessive. Power struggles exist. But the whole practice of using fear, force, deceit, or pressure to control another person is dangerous imo. They're to be utilized as little as possible.

In DnD I don’t think the fringe evil cults would be the ones most at risk for corruption by Bane. I don't think individuals or groups who prioritize self-indulgence would be most at risk, either. The most dangerous and frequent disciples of Bane imo would be within good alignment. This means followers of benevolent gods as well as the nations or groups that consider themselves to have righteous causes. ESPECIALLY those with chips on their shoulders.

When someone assumes they have and always will have the moral high ground, that they are incapable of committing injustice, that their end justifies whatever means, that it doesn’t count as abuse with the 'correct' target… that, to me, is where tyranny festers. The person convinced of their own moral infallibility is the one who sees no need for brakes and so cuts them without concern.

I’d argue everybody has a seed of tyranny in them that can be fed or starved. We feed that seed with our own indignation to become a tyrant victimizing others while still seeing ourselves as powerless. The person who first victimized you can still also be victimized by you. There isn’t a target that exists where finding joy in cruelty gets a pass.

Bane, I think, thrives on the idea that it's no problem if you're enforcing your will. Especially on people contemptible to you.

For DnD purposes, imagine you have zealous followers of idk Tyr. They are willing to do whatever it takes to enforce and spread their definition of justice. They believe in making examples of people at every opportunity. They torture, isolate, rob, and shame those they consider to be unjust or dangerous. If their victims are falsely accused—well. It’s for a noble purpose so the sacrifice is not in vain. And imagine Tyr abandons these followers as hypocrites. He no longer empowers clerics or paladins no matter how they cite scripture or brand ‘heretics’ with his symbols.

Bane doesn’t enter calling himself Bane, god of tyranny. Bane claims to follow a higher justice. Maybe he uses an avatar, maybe he chooses a Banite disciple, maybe he finds a true believer. But he argues that Tyr as an individual was never ultimately what those zealots stood for—it was justice itself. And if Tyr has turned traitor to his own portfolio, mortals need to go over his head to the core concept and implement that. Bane offers a name that suits his purposes and begins sourcing power to clerics and paladins instead. And throughout, as the zealots commit increased atrocities against those they deem dangerous or evil they fail to realize they’ve spiraled into evil alignment after all. They’d think they were either just as good as they’d always been OR BETTER. The compassion of Ilmater is spent on the depraved and corrupt as far as they’re concerned.

I think the real threat of Bane is that he should be 100% capable of corrupting an otherwise heroic party member if they aren’t wary of that capacity in themself. You suddenly find your friend who listened to your problems and supported you through awful shit mocking a person sobbing on the ground as they kick them. And that friend looks betrayed and hurt (or outraged) if you challenge their actions, because they think you should know exactly how disgusting this piece of shit is and how much they deserve the abuse. And even if you concede that individual case—it’s not the only one. The slights worthy of torment become smaller and smaller. A thought or word out of line betrays the ideology of an evil alignment, with the only solution being to beat thoughts and words out of the target until they can only repeat approved ideas back. And even then, it may not be enough.

If it was explicitly confirmed that the deity the zealot followed was Bane all along, the zealot might genuinely not believe it. They might get pissed at the very suggestion. What they do against the wicked isn’t tyranny after all. They’re righteous.

Denial doesn’t serve to disempower Bane in the least if tactics remain unchanged.

BHAAL

I’m holding off on more detailed Bhaal thoughts until I complete a dark urge run, but I’ve listened to lore on both him and the demon lord Yeenoghu recently—and I think there’s room for a really cool potential contrast.

Yeenoghu Lore

Providing this particular video link for the curious, as a way to help illustrate what I’m drawing from.

Yeenoghu holds the title as demon lord of slaughter. He glories in filth, rape, excessively graphic murder, torture, violence, and playing with corpses along the way. He’s meant to come across as a bestial, self-absorbed, remorseless desecrater. And when I say bestial, I want to draw attention to a particular IRL factoid that might be worth considering.

I love animals to bits. I don’t think animals generally contemplate morality the way humans do just due to cognitive differences and limitations. I also think it’s important to remember that humans are ALSO animals, so certain things umbrella’d under ‘human experience’ would probably apply to at least some animals too. If there are human altruists and human serial killers, we should be able to expect that animals likewise have some altruists and some serial killers within the scope of individual variation.

Cruelty is not exclusive to humans. Orcas will essentially torture smaller animals to death by flinging them into the air with their tails repeatedly like balls until repeated beatings and suffocation kill them. Dolphins commit rape and chew on live puffer fish to get high off the toxins. Chimpanzees are a horror unto themselves with cannibalism and mutilation and basically whatever atrocity they can commit. Wolves and cats sometimes hunt to excess just for the joy of it and don’t eat all they kill. Hannibal the swan (as a specific and notably homicidal individual) beat and drowned any other swans visiting his pond and showed his signet how to do it. I could go on. Some cases it might be a matter of the animal not having theory of mind to recognize that they are inflicting pain on another conscious creature. Other times, like with pissed off chimpanzees, they know EXACTLY what they’re doing and it’s on purpose to cause maximum suffering.

I think Yeenoghu should embody a little bit of both propensities. He’s just utterly self-absorbed and doesn’t give a fuck about the experiences or perspectives of other living things except insofar as they impact him.

Bhaal I want to research more like I said, but one thing I remember from my initial play through was finding a note from the Dark Urge to Orin.

Little sister, whatever in the Gray Wastes are we going to do with you? Bhaal will never care that you waste your time, posing your corpse-dollies. Bhaal doesn’t care whether you give him the corpse of a pauper or a king. At the end of the day, all Father wants is death in droves, death in numbers. To sap away the life of this dull world as swiftly and widely as we can. You plan, you plot, you prevaricate, and you waste his time. Bhaal doesn’t need us to think. He needs us to kill. You kill beautifully, and have talents in your shapes’ magics that I never will. But you do not understand Lord Bhaal. Perhaps it is a failing of your diluted blood, as a mere grandchild. I am his sole living pureblood. I will accept no challenge from you, until you show some damned respect.

To be honest this is interesting af to me because it positions Orin a bit more in-line with Yeenoghu’s modus operandi in some ways. But what sets apart the principles of Bhaal from Yeenoghu or Myrkul?

The Dark Urge suggests the goal of Bhaal is the extinction of all life, but to be honest I’m a bit skeptical. Seems like short term thinking. Even if Bhaal pulled that off, once it’s done there is no more murder or god of murder for that matter. If Bhaal is aiming for a cessation of existence and wants everyone else along for the ride maybe that’s what he’s after, but I dunno. That seems like something fans/players/loremasters would have touched on before.

I’d like to invite this possibility for foiling instead:

Life consumes other life by nature. Animals, plants, fungi, bacteria, so forth—it isn’t just a matter of philosophy. One life cannot exist without destroying another. We need to eat. If we don’t, we die well before reproduction enters the picture. But it’s more than that… you take a step, you kill countless tiny organisms you aren’t even aware of. You swat a fly. You hit something with your car. You move gracelessly or touch carelessly, and catastrophe ensues. Etcetera.

It is inevitable that your existence will mean the end for the life of another living thing. That’s just how it goes.

It could be interesting on a LOT of fronts (both as members of the dead three and as former adventuring companions) if Bhaal acted as a kind of philosophical opposite to Myrkul the way I previously described.

If the Dark Urge’s note is to be trusted, Bhaal has no interest in ritual or glorified death per se. Bhaal would be more about the mundanity that comes through the act of killing. Life is fragile as-is and often ended by accident. Killing in its most common form is thoughtless and unconscious. To Bhaal, if every life is a universe then the universe looks meaningless. There is no importance or fanfare to any of it. If one side is ‘everything matters, give weight to life and death’, Bhaal would be ‘nothing matters, we are not capable of affording reverence to every single life and death we encounter’. More specifically, the mass deaths Bhaal favors would be a kind of illustration of the uncaring and casual relationship living things have with killing other living things. The more casual and effortless it is, the more I’d imagine it serves Bhaal. Sadism and revelry miss the point—there is no hierarchy. Suffering is inconsequential. Fear is inconsequential. Instinct is inconsequential. To live is to kill by Bhaal’s logic.

It isn’t limited to murder in the sense of a member of one species killing a member of the same species. It’s more Bhaal is the god of killing. He’d gain power from murder too sure, but also hunting, harvesting, and butchering. With these interpretations in-mind, we can actually figure out how the Dead Three might have answered Jergal's question about what worth a mortal life holds. With the disclaimer this is very much conjecture. I think Myrkul would likely be "Each life is of infinite value and merits sacrificing everything for." That lends life a heavy weight and makes death a fearful force for all. It would also mesh with Ketheric as his chosen. Bane would lean into "That depends on a person's deeds", "The only life that matters is mine", or "Depends on the mortal". From those positions, the speaker argues for a hierarchy of life where some is more expendable than the rest. It's easier from that position to slide into adopting a role as judge and executioner, and from elevating yourself into a role of authority where other voices and experiences count less than your own. Bhaal I think is reflected in "Life’s only value is as currency. Doesn’t matter to me otherwise", "The only life that matters is mine", or "No one life is worth more than any other. We are equal." Bhaal has the implicit question in-turn: what is the blood-price of your own life? How much have you claimed in your own name to keep moving? It's kind of the belief that while "The only life that matters is mine" is Bhaal's answer, every other living thing should be answering the same way. There's more nuance than that of course, and likely truth falls somewhere in the middle. We aren't mentally capable of giving reverence to every death, but we can recognize in general terms and do our best case-by-case. We have a right to protect ourselves and what we love, but others share that right.

Feel free to offer different stances or thoughts though, and if you made it this far goddamn thank you for reading this monster.

#the dead three #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #myrkul #bhaal #bane #bg3 #bgiii #yeenoghu

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fun-mxtx-polls · 4 months

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E'ming vs. Xuan Su

E'ming propaganda:

I just had to come here and wax poetically about E-Ming. Not only is he a) a deadly scimitar that can and has defeated gods, b) the legendary weapon of the strongest ghost king, and c) made USING that ghost king’s eye, he’s also the goodest boy to have ever existed.

He’s basically a puppy dog in sword form and he just wants love and pets. He’s so expressive and adorable that Xie Lian completely ignore all warnings to avoid him to instead treat him like the puppy he is.

Plus there’s his creation story! (Spoilers for TGCF). Back when Hua Cheng was still a weak ghost on Mount Tonglu, he chose to pretext a group of lost mortals by ripping out his eye and forging E-Ming as a weapon. It was a dangerous and risky choice that could have forever separated Hua Cheng from Xie Lian, but he still did it simply because he cares more about others than he likes to admit. E-Ming represents Hua Cheng’s weakness and humanity and even though Hua Cheng resents him for that, Xie Lian loves him for it all the same.

Therefore E-Ming is a) a badass sword, b) an adorable puppy who deserves love, and c) a physical representation of who Hua Cheng is and how he and Xie Lian perceive him. E-Ming is precious and deserves all the votes (and pets)!

Also he just looks really, really cool too! (submitted by @alittlelessalone)

e'ming is babie!!!!!

Xuan Su propaganda:

Xuan Su means "Dark and solemn". Yue Qingyuan's sword, vitality important to his backstory. Its so strong that few cultivators can even stand when he pulls it out, even by a sliver. It drain's yqy's lifeforce in exchange for incredible amounts of power! It wasn't even drawn fully during the sealing of Tianlang-jun, and was instrumental to his defeat. Even pidw Bingge couldn't defeat him one-on-one!

i haven't been able to get 'Xuan Su is YQY's erectile dysfunction' out of my head for multiple days and I have one thing to say about it: it's SO funny, please let Xuan Su win so that this extremely powerful, OP, life ending sword can instead be known as YQY's limp dick. (submitted by @valiantbarnes)

Xuan Su is quite possibly the strongest sword on this list. It is so powerful that when Yue Qingyuan first got it, he was forced (via many broken bones) into secluded meditation in a cave for YEARS to prevent a deadly qi deviation, preventing him from saving Shen Jiu, destroying their relationship. And even once YQY grew to be the most powerful cultivator in the world (Bingge couldn't even kill him without an ambush) he still couldn't draw it without it sapping years off of his life every time. YQY had to carry two swords for his entire life because his first sword could and would kill him if given the chance.

Also, in PIDW, after Bingge killed YQY and Xuan Su shattered, Bingge used the shards to taunt Shen Qingqiu and SQQ swallows the shards to kill himself. Imagine swallowing the shards of a sword that belonged to your beloved childhood friend turned kind-of boss who missed you so much even when you were right there and for whom you feel so much bitterness and longing and yet cared for so much that news of his death is the only thing that could have broken you, even after years of horrific torture. The drama of that alone should win it some points, I think. (submitted by @slythavakna)

#mxtx swords tournament #tgcf #mxtx #svsss #eming #hua cheng #xuan su #yue qingyuan

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ambrosialdesire · 9 months

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bounded

18+ DARK CONTENT BELOW, MINORS + BLANK BLOGS DNI

pairing: s4 eren x fem!reader word count: 2.5k warnings + tags: general yandere and obsessive themes, unhealthy relationships, one-sided pining, childhood friends, p*rn w/ plot, non-con, manipulation, guilt-tripping, loss of virginity, forced fingering, forced f oral sex, vaginal sex, bounded hands (kinda), panty-gag, praise & degradation, slight edging, spitting, hair-pulling, forced cheating, all characters are 18+ synopsis: ignoring the romantic feelings of the man you thought was your beloved childhood best friend was never your intention, but you should have given eren a shot. maybe then you wouldn't be begging for forgiveness underneath the star-filled sky. a/n: continuation of boundless, as requested by many anons hehe so this is just straight up smut, mostly cause i'm still practicing how to write it. no i will not write a third part of this little series but i will accept asks about it just like any other fic i've written. i also reached over 500 likes since the start of this blog and i wanna thank y'all sm for the support!! i really didn't expect this much love towards my silly writing and i'm really grateful to be able to share a small piece of what i like to do. have fun with the read! i would love some feedback on the smut and how to improve it cause i feel like it's not up to par lol note: please keep in mind of the tags above and do not proceed if triggering or uncomfortable, especially if you are a minor!! do not read my or any other writers' dark content if you are underaged. this is a fictional work and does not reflect irl morals, do not believe this is how a real romance works or functions.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.───

A good god would never hurt their creations.

A good god would never bestow pain, sickness, or selfishness within their creations.

A good god would be morally just.

If there was a god here, they wouldn't have created this hellhole called Paradis. If there was one, what a cruel and merciless creator they'd be for letting thousands upon thousands of cannibalistic monsters live across the land.

No amount of written literature or street-wide sermons could convince you that any sort of higher being would create this generational agony out of the kindness of their heart. What was the lesson that humanity needed to learn? Why create this animosity towards the beings that you supposedly love?

You believed in no god. No merciful god was able to exist on this forsaken island.

Yet as Eren pressed the pads of his fingertips against the nub of your clit, the pleading incantations for something or someone — anyone — could not cease from spilling out from behind the cloth.

He sighed in annoyance but still rubbed it in slow circles. "I'd love to hear your voice but you know the rules up here. You don't want to get in trouble do you?"

The amount of pressure around your wrists tightened to the point that you thought he was going to break them, hot tears spilling out of your cheeks. To the best of your ability, you tried relaxing but your legs tensed and squeezed around Eren's waist as he began to pick up the pacing. You wanted to believe that he wouldn't hurt you, the dearest boy that you've loved ever since the two of you were little.

"Good girl." He quietly praised under his breath and you couldn't help but feel your heart ignorantly skip from those simple words, parts of his now-long brown hair falling over his eyes as he focused on your lower half.

His eyes had always reminded you of a clear morning sky, bright and confidently focused on the future ahead of him. You've adored those turquoise-blue eyes of his for years, admiration running through your veins whenever you shared a look with him. Now as you were able to catch a glance of them as he played with your now-throbbing clit, only dread crawled up your spine.

He was unrecognizable, a build-up of years of pain and resentment rippling off in a dark stormy sky. This was someone who simply existed to get revenge, tearing through everything to get what he wanted in the end.

This man wasn't your best friend. This man was not your Eren. This was no longer the boy that you playfully chased after over hills and through alleys. Whoever this was on top of you is a stranger.

A monster.

A demon.

He began to dip two of his fingers into your hole, a small shudder of breath escaping you as he slowly pushed one of his digits in. "Fuck, you're tight. That asshole doesn't know what the hell he's doing with you."

It hurt, the stretch from only two of his lithe fingers was foreign to your body. The sound of them going in and out with the slightest sounds of squelching made you cringe internally.

Your boyfriend never touched you once, both you and him promised to save each other until marriage. The idea gave you comfort at the time that no matter what, this fight will be worth it in the end. Since the Titans started to slowly thin out, the chance of finally starting a family with him became even more likely. It seemed that the world thought otherwise, digging its claws deep within your flesh. You shook your head towards Eren, who raised a confused eyebrow before grinning ear-to-ear.

"Don't tell me he never touched you?" He let go of your wrists and the warmth of his hand left from between your thighs. You thought he was letting you go scot-free. The two of you would just forget this night ever happened and go back to pretending that you were the best of friends. Unfortunately, you thought wrong.

Once Eren got an idea in his head, it was difficult to convince him otherwise.

He suddenly grabbed your waist, pulling your lower body close to his face, your legs dangling on-top of his shoulders. His arms tightly wrapped around your stomach and held you upside down, blood rushing to your head. You struggled around for a little bit, confusion and terror melding into your expression before he pressed his mouth against your hardened clit and sucked.

"He's missing out then." He groaned and the vibrations shot through your body, hands gripping at the blanket underneath you. Like a starved man, he lapped up your fluids like it was going to be his last meal. You felt dizzy, from the position you were in and how feverishly focused he was as he continued to lick your folds. A muffled whine came out of your mouth as his tongue started to tease around your slick opening, your head shaking back and forth as you stared at him with scared eyes.

Eren ignored you, squeezing your body even closer to his, tongue now slipping in. He started to hold you with one arm and reached over to play with your clit as he prodded the muscle in you, your legs squeezing around his head. You tried to ignore the pulse in your core when you felt him press against your back, the tears coming back in full force. Never in years have you felt this powerless, especially when it was coming from the very person that you've always looked highly upon.

You felt disgusted as his saliva intertwined with your slick began to drip down your pussy, the flesh becoming glistened in the moonlight. Feeling his fingers soon dip in along with his tongue had you loudly exhale into the gag, your legs shaking as the tips of his fingers brushed against a particular spot with you. He kept poking and prodding till you could feel a heavy pressure build up in the pit of your stomach, an exploding desire to finally release something in your body had your eyes tightly closed shut.

You tried imagining the man that was enjoying you was your boyfriend, that this was your honeymoon and that he was the one that was pleasing you. Yet your body and mind refused to think picture him. The hands and fingers that touched you was far too calloused to be his. The hair that brushed against your inner thighs was too long. The body against yours was more muscular than his.

No matter what you tried to deny, this was Eren. Completely and wholly Eren.

A throaty groan made your whole body tense up and your eyes shoot back open. Eren finally pulled away from your lower half, his eyes half-lidded and dazed with lust. You were in a haze, confused and partially irritated that the pleasure was suddenly stopped, leaving you horridly unsatisfied. His mouth was covered with your fluids and you watched him run a tongue over his lips, a grin forming as he knew what you were thinking.

"I wanna feel you cum on my mouth another time. If I waited any longer, I would've came in my pants." He teased, letting you finally rest flat back on the blanket. You heard the click of his belt and the shuffle of his pants being pulled down, his lower half settling back in-between you.

"Watch me put it in." You shook your head in refusal and closed your eyes once more, but he didn't take that response well from the way he grabbed the top of your head and pulled at the hair roughly for you to look down.

"I said watch." He bore his teeth at you as tears formed in the corners of your eyes, the pain making you open them back up. You wished that you kept them closed, your breaths beginning to quicken as you realized his cockhead was getting close to your entrance.

It was a pretty cock, not too girthy nor was it too short. The tip was flushed a soft pink from what you could see in the moonlight, already dripping and glossy with precum. Tufts of dark brown hair trailed down towards the base of it and there was a shadow of a protruding vein that you were able to see on the side of his shaft.

Eren used his other hand to align himself to your hole, and you begrudgingly watched and felt him slowly sheath himself into your pussy. Agony was the first sensation that shot through your body, hands twisting the filthy sheet underneath you. The stretch burned your core and you painfully whined against the gag.

"Fuck — fuckkk — you're so warm and tight." He moaned as he released his hand from your hair. You felt grateful that he hadn't made any sudden movements, letting you at least adjust to the insertion. Perhaps there was still some form of compassion in the man you knew.

His hands went to your hips, gripping and kneading around the fat. You could feel him shaking, his cock twitching against your walls. Eren was never good at restraining himself and it showed, a muffled cry slipping out of you as he began to thrust without warning. You watched as his dick rhythmically slid in and out of you, splitting you in two.

"You're fucking mine, you hear me?" He hissed as he continued to rapidly plunge into your slopping cunt. You let out a muted cry as the palm of his hand made contact against the side of your ass, a stinging pain forming. "From the moment we were kids to now, you were and have always been mine."

He was relentless as he pounded into your pussy, every thrust caused sharp but muffled moans into the gag. You wanted to fight back but when you looked back into his eyes, your heart sank down to the pit of your stomach.

Desperation.

The most recognizable expression you've witnessed on others on numerous occasions. He fucked you like it was the last thing he'd ever get to do, as if this was a necessity. The tormented expression in his face, the way he bit down on his lip and dug his nails into your hips. No doubt he felt guilty for taking you like this, it was like he had no other option left.

His fingers reached over in between your lips and ripped out your spit-soaked panty, tossing it to the side. You took in heavy gulps of fresh air before he pressed his lips against yours, sloppily rubbing his tongue against yours. It was like he was trying to devour you whole, almost taking the air away from your lungs.

Eren pulled away with a pant, letting you moan out to the world without any more obstruction. "You're a cruel bitch, ignoring my feelings for years like this. Running to some bastard that'll never understand you."

His hips started to slam angrily against yours and reflectively, you wrapped your legs around his waist tightly. You could feel the tip of his cock nudging and poking against your cervix, whines slipping out of your lips as he continued to push his dick against it.

"E-eren, I'm s-sorry." You begged, tears pricking at the edges of your eyes, hoping that he'd ease up on your poor hole. You heard him breathily scoff at your weak apology.

"Yeah? You're sorry?" He half-heartedly laughed and put one of his hands under your jaw, squeezing your cheeks together. "If you're really sorry, open your mouth for me then slut."

You hesitantly obeyed, confused with his request but at least he stopped thrusting so violently. He grinned cockily and spat on your tongue, your face contorting to a grimace as you felt the warm and thick liquid rest on the surface. You wanted to spit it out, almost gagging as it was nearly sliding down your throat but Eren stopped you from turning your head to eject it out.

"Swallow it." He absolutely lost his mind if he thought you were going to do that. You glared at him but he simply smiled smugly, running his fingers through your hair, lightly tugging at the strands.

"Swallow it and I won't cum in you." The second he said that, your blood ran cold, eyes widening in fear. He can't be serious, can he? This was Eren you were talking about, of course he'd be serious.

You hated this, you hated how it felt like you knew him but at the same time, knew nothing about him at all.

With one swift motion, you swallowed and started coughing, trying not to throw up the dinner you had nearly an hour ago. He pried open your mouth with his fingers, checking as if you really did do it and kissed you once more after he finished his inspection.

"Good, you're doing so good." He whispered into your ear as he rolled his hips, plunging you once more with his cock. You unintentionally squeezed him as he angled himself more to hit a spongy spot within your cunt, a dragged out moan coming out as the tip rubbed it.

"You like that, you whore?" You nodded wordlessly as you rolled your head back, pleasure swimming in your muddled brain. You could feel his fingers slip in-between your drenched pussy, curling against your throbbing clit.

"Ha— What would your boyfriend think? His so-called innocent girlfriend being a filthy cock-slut for her best friend." He teased as he rolled his fingertips around the nub, your core clenching around him. You wanted to tell him off — to stop mentioning your boyfriend — but you were so close to that release from earlier that you couldn't focus on what he was saying about him.

You could feel Eren start to speed up, his thrusts becoming more deeper and erratic, his fingers moving faster and faster against your clit until you couldn't hold it in anymore. You could barely hear him tell you that you can do it, that he was almost there too. Your walls gripped around his moving cock and your vision went white, every single muscle in your body became pulled taut as you finally came.

He didn't stop throughout your orgasm, letting out a broken cry as he finally stopped moving. You felt nothing until he sat up and pulled away from your body, whining quietly as he slipped his now-soft cock out of your still-sensitive pussy. With that, you could feel a warm liquid spill out of your hole.

"You p-promised." You sobbed out in a whisper and he silently stroked the side of your face.

"I didn't promise you anything, but I meant what I said earlier. I love you, I won't let anyone or anything take you away from me. Not even fate will tear us apart." Eren laid next to you, your bodies sweaty and sticky. You couldn't stop crying, letting the tears fall down your face as you stared up at the night sky with him.

"I'll take care of you, okay? You won't need anyone else but me from now on." His calloused hand took in yours, interlocking his fingers with yours and holding it firmly.

"Me, you, and our baby. That's all that matters in the world." You couldn't help but cry aloud at that.

If there was a god, good or bad, may they never let this child live through this hell.

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petrichorium · 1 year

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BAM: Flower Crowns

in which gojo satoru, your beloved king and betrothed, knows his time is best spent in your company riling you up.

gojo satoru x fem!reader

word count: 2.5k reader: fem (she/her pronouns, fem terms, fem clothing including dresses) tags: fluff, royal au, childhood friends to lovers, once again hes pushy n the reader's a lil bit hesitant but hed stop if she rlly wanted, vague references to violence note: see i was gonna do a few lil scenes but the first one got away from me.... but basically the period of him courting the reader (which full disclosure isnt technically courting bc that should be happening before one proposes but this occurs while theyre engaged bc Gojo Didnt Get That Memo but i digress) is just him being WILDLY inappropriate for cultural standards, everyone silently pitying the reader, and the reader having a whole ton of conflicting emotions but ultimately rlly liking it 😭😭😭

usurper!gojo tag || masterlist

“they say you’re inhuman, you know.” you’ve finished the flower chain. his eyes don’t stray from your fingers as they nimbly connect the two ends and tie them together with a final stem into a thick circlet. “they said it a lot that night. they said you were the gods’ fury made mortal.”

he snickers. “how dramatic.”

you lift yourself up onto your thighs, shuffle towards him further and reach out, and he bows his head to let you place your creation upon it. your hand trails down when you let go, drifting over his ear and along his jaw as he lifts his head from its bow to look at you. you certainly mean to pull it away but his hand beats you to it, darting up to keep your palm against his cheek as you settle back down on the backs of your heels.

“i know why they came to that conclusion,” you say. “you terrified me when i saw you.”

“did you think me inhuman?”

you hum, eyes tracing along the band of flowers now gracing his forehead, falling to rest on his hand over yours. “no. never. monstrous, perhaps. odious. but very human.”

Satoru finds you out on the grounds, tucked away at the edge where the manicured gardens give way to rough forest. The weather has been turbulent, but for the first time since the coup there’s enough sun to stand being outside the castle longer than a scant few minutes. You’d said that morning that you planned to venture out, now that early spring flowers were beginning to bloom.

You’re cloaked in heavy furs, layers of skirts and wool protecting you from the cold, all elaborate garments that he’s gifted you. It's adorable (satisfying) to see you dressed up in his presents. He tells you as much when he finds you, delves into the treeline long before you see him so that he can sneak up upon you and whisper it into your ear to make you yelp and jump away.

“You mongrel,” you accuse with wide eyes and a hand on your heart as you work to steady your breathing. “Have you no respect for your future wife?”

“Ah, she admits it readily now? Progress.”

Your face twists as if someone has struck you. He chooses to ignore it and drops to sit sprawled out on the grass, beckoning unabashedly for you to join him on his lap. You won’t relent, he’s well aware, but he’ll have his desires known either way.

“Presumptuous,” you say. He'd die a happy man if you kissed him as many times as you called him that, but in lack of the former he’ll be content with the latter.

“Sit with me, my queen. I've missed you.”

“I am not yet your queen, Satoru,” you correct out of obligation. “You saw me an hour ago, we ate together.”

“Ah, but every moment apart is agony.” Satoru wonders if you know how serious he is beneath the breezy tone. From the way you wrinkle your nose, he doubts it.

“You have a meeting with your advisors now. You should not be out here.”

He pouts. “But you’re out here, and if I have to spend more time with those old fools than you today then I'll throw a tantrum tomorrow.”

You roll your eyes, let out a sigh that sounds long-suffering, but you shift your skirts and ease yourself down to sit gracefully before him with your legs tucked next to you. His threats aren’t empty and you know it.

“Fine.” You look down, as if inspecting the grass, spreading fingers along the blades as you begin to pluck wildflowers. Then you pause and glance up at him. “Remove those… oh, whatever they are. Let me see your eyes unhindered, at least.”

“Anything for my darling bride,” he coos at you, immediately doing as asked. He’d have done so anyway, if only to watch you lose yourself in staring when he reveals his eyes, catching yourself once he blinks and snapping your head back to the ground to busy yourself once more with plucking your blooms.

“How do you see a thing through those,” you grumble lowly, certainly just to break yourself from being flustered. It works too well; Satoru immediately jumps on the chance you’ve given him.

“Would you like to try them?” he asks, but doesn’t wait for a response, mind already conjuring an image of you draped in every golden chain and precious stone gracing his chambers.

He removes them from his face, pulling the chain from around his neck, and swiftly transfers them to yours before you can refuse—tilts your head up to look at him and tugs your hair out of the way with deft fingers, eases the gilded extremities onto your ears and lets the pads of his digits linger on either side of your head before pulling away. Pausing in your work and tilting your head back down to peer at him over the top of the frames, you blink at him owlishly from behind the glass, unused to staring through it. Precious, he thinks, and wishes briefly to kiss you—but he has to be smart about kissing you, calculating. Too much attention too fast and you have a tendency to pull away from him like the ebbing tide. It's agony for him, wanting nothing more than to hold you as much as he wishes, but as much as he wants there’s very little he hates more than when you tense under his touch and turn away from him.

“They suit you better,” he tells you, because they do. You look good adorned with jewelry of his design. “You oughtn’t wear them in public, though, or all the courtiers will be scrambling to get themselves a pair. Just for me, I suppose.”

Your nose wrinkles at the mention of your newfound influence, eyes darting to the side and lower lip pouting, an expression that makes him cast aside all his convoluted schemes to ease you into his affections. He leans down to peck at your lips, kiss away the pout, gone before you can complain. It’s fast enough that you don’t immediately recoil and give him a lecture on decorum, or perhaps you’re simply getting more used to it.

Satoru’s attention doesn’t stray as you return to your work. You’ve gravitated towards flowers with long stems, he realizes; collected them in a pile on your skirts, which you seem to have deemed large enough as you pick a notably long one up and begin to string them together in a chain. You don’t bother removing his glasses either, simply allowing them to slide down to the end of your nose. The golden chain clinks softly with every movement of your head.

He wonders when you learned to make them. You’ve always been so careful about the skills you acquire, but he thinks perhaps your mother might have taught you. Or his aunt, for how much she loves flowers, and for how much of her time as queen (he’s been told anyway) was spent doing such frivolous things as making daisy chains in the gardens. You’re so very meticulous with your actions, every choice carefully constructed. He knows you’ve been doing that less and less around him—perhaps it’s finally sinking in that he cares very little about your actions, that he finds everything you do to be enthralling. More likely you’ve exhausted yourself trying. You’ve certainly exhausted yourself attempting to rein him in, though he’d like to believe you’re beginning to allow yourself to enjoy his antics.

Posterity, he thinks, will paint him as you do—bold, brash, uncaring of tradition, unapologetic in pursuit of a woman far beneath his status. There are a great many reasons you hesitate to marry him, he doesn’t blame you for your doubt. Certainly when he was younger he’d never imagined himself the type of man you’d end up betrothed to; he couldn’t count on his fingers the number of more suitable matches for the both of you in the eyes of society, but whereas in his youth he might silence himself and go along with the whims of his advisors he’s lost all sense of decency now. His close call with death and the coup he’d spent years preparing for had rid him of any desire to compromise, and he stands now in a position where he can certainly refuse the very people who once held sway over him. And you appreciate all of that, he knows it. It’s one of the reasons he adores you so; beneath your veneer of decorum lies not a lady but a queen with desires all too different from those you’ve been forced to portray. He’s always known this, and to an extent he can’t find it within himself to regret the events that have led him to where he is today because if they hadn’t transpired he wouldn’t have you.

Satoru remembers a time in his youth when his mother made a passing mention that she enjoyed a certain hairstyle on young girls—two long braids, tied with ribbons. For months afterward all the upcoming court ladies wore it diligently, yourself included. He found it painful to see on you until he discovered that they made a lovely way to pull your nose from a book and fix your attention onto him, and that he could tug on the ribbons at the ends until they unfurled and he could pocket them to return later by tying them around the necks of one of his hunting dogs and sending it after you.

(If he were the kind of man you’d marry without hesitation he’d feel remorse for his childhood actions. Instead he’s the man you will marry, and he plots how to steal one of your hair ribbons again and return it in the same way. For memory’s sake.)

“They say you’re inhuman, you know.” You’ve finished the flower chain. His eyes don’t stray from your fingers as they nimbly connect the two ends and tie them together with a final stem into a thick circlet. “They said it a lot that night. They said you were the Gods’ fury made mortal.”

He snickers. “How dramatic.”

You lift yourself up onto your thighs, shuffle towards him further and reach out, and he bows his head to let you place your creation upon it. Your hand trails down when you let go, drifting over his ear and along his jaw as he lifts his head from its bow to look at you. You certainly mean to pull it away but his hand beats you to it, darting up to keep your palm against his cheek as you settle back down on the backs of your heels.

“I know why they came to that conclusion,” you say. “You terrified me when I saw you.”

“Did you think me inhuman?”

You hum, eyes tracing along the band of flowers now gracing his forehead, falling to rest on his hand over yours. “No. Never. Monstrous, perhaps. Odious. But very human.”

“You wound me. I might die by your cruelty.”

“Die, then.”

Satoru makes a show of it just for you. Falling back to sprawl on the ground, he gags violently, stabbing at his own heart with an invisible knife and convulsing with his tongue hanging out until you shriek for him to stop, voice filled with giggles. He takes that as a cue to still, to fall limp as if truly dead with eyes fluttering shut—then beckons you closer.

“I need…” he rasps out, barely audible.

You indulge him and do so. “My king?”

“…iss…”

“What?”

“True love’s kiss,” he repeats louder, pursing his lips expectantly. He doesn’t truly think you’ll do it, and you don’t—you lean in like you will, but bypass his lips entirely and bite his cheek instead.

He yelps, just for you, just so you’ll feel accomplished. And so he can see your smile, hear the smugness in your voice as you say, “It’s a miracle, you’ve come back to life.”

But he doesn’t give you weakness for free. No, he snakes his arms around your waist before you can pull back, and uses the grip to all but pull you on top of his lap as he sits up. Perhaps it’s his lack of insistence on you giving him a kiss, or perhaps he’s simply started to break down your walls enough, but whichever it is you don’t protest. Instead you seem to find flaws in the flower crown you’ve gifted him. Your lips purse, hands coming up to fiddle with the blooms. He realizes that he can’t stand a single moment of your attention on anything other than him, even if your fingers are nearly tangled in his hair.

“If I return to court with a crown of flowers made by my lover still on my head, do you suppose they’ll think me less inhuman?”

Your face falls at the suggestion, eyes widening in mortification. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“It's far more comfortable than that heavy gold. And I happen to personally adore the artisan who made it, so—”

“I don't trust you anymore, take it off! You’ve lost the right!” You attempt to remove it, but he reacts with the very reflexes that make him so inhuman, uses that monstrous height to lift his head higher than you can reasonably reach, though it doesn’t stop you from trying.

“It'd be rude of me to refuse a gift, my queen.” Laughing, Satoru holds you back with ease, eager for the excuse to put his hands all over you while you’re too worked up to feel self-conscious.

“Not yet,” you wail. “Not your queen yet, you knave!”

“Mine either way, though,” he replies smugly with a playful tug to the chain you still wear. “Covered in my presents. It’s only fair that I get to display a token you’ve given me, no?”

“No, it is not. You’ve stolen all of my outerwear and replaced it with these, I've no other choice. But you will not return to your advisors displaying that—that childish trifle, I won't allow it, you will not expose to the court that I made such a thing for yo—oh!”

He tackles you to the ground, careful not to even knock the wind out of you, though he steals your breath the moment you’re safe in his arms by pulling you into a kiss to keep you from talking further. He’d intended it to be faster, but his nose crashes into the tinted spectacles still upon your face and he’s filled with such ardor that he can’t help but deepen it.

Your hand slides behind his head, threads through his hair. He feels you snap a single stem between your fingers. The crown comes apart just as he takes a moment to pull away, and the flowers fall to scatter in the grass beneath him, a halo around your head. There’s a little smile on your face, your chest huffs with quiet laughter, and your palm slides down to the base of his hair. You use that hold and your other hand, which has fisted his tunic, to yank him down and connect your lips again.

Above, a cloud passes. Satoru can feel the sun shine warm on his back, hear the wind in the budding trees, smell the bite of melting snow and the petals of your wildflowers, yet there’s nothing that could distract him from the feeling of your kiss. His eyes close, he pushes closer though he hardly needs to with the way you still tug on his shirt. His arm comes up to brace next to your head, just to make sure he’s holding his own weight rather than crushing you, and the other leaves your waist to trail down your thigh and grip beneath your knee, shifting your leg to hook around him. If your mouth weren’t occupied he thinks you’d be lecturing him for such an obscene display in a place where anyone could stumble upon you—so he does well to keep it occupied, refusing to part even as your grip on his tunic loosens and he’s forced to grab your newly freed hand to pin it to the ground with fingers intertwined.

It's the first time you’ve ever kissed him. He already plots how to push you into doing it again when he finally pulls away, eyes locked on your swollen lips.

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #mine.🌧#char.🌧 gojo #usurper!gojo

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koszmarnybudyn · 3 months

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Here's a long poem about the teens, and growing up and about a lot of things, its called "You have to kill god"

You and your besties need to kill god, maybe you were always destined to, fate is such a picky woman after all, you didnt ask for it, there should have been better options, maybe there were, older, stronger wiser, but there all useless now. You didn't want to kill god, not untill you were in highschool, not untill you saw the incocent die, not untill you saw the ones in power as corrupt, your kindegarden teacher smiled so wide as those kids grew up much faster than they should, oh so wide, you did too you think, the clothes from a few weeks ago dont fit anymore, the photos on the walls feel fake, you shouldnt look so young, it doesnt feel like you, but it is, youve changed, it hurts, and isnt that the thing that comes for us all, after all youve seen death, you know heaven and you know hell and you know they are both shells of what they told you, both run by incompetent assholes, so you have to kill god, there is no debate. The mayor died, i guess nurture failed after all, youve been destined to be what you are, and what you are is nothing, the blood you have has always dragged you here, the first hands to hold you were the ones to burn those marks into your soul, do you have a soul? You share one, so you must, but maybe you dont maybe you are as hollow as you feel, he didn't, do you even remember him? You never did. hes back, he is going to die, he said he loved you, you dont think he lied, but youve been wrong about many things. You know this one, you have to kill god, he never hugged you enough, he wasnt there enough, will you be the same? Will your hands also hurt more than they create, will the act of creation be something worse than that of destroying. Will your children ever forgive you, will you love them enough? You were never enough, they never liked you, you now know there is a diffrence. It hurts, it always hurts. You have to kill god, they were suppose to do it, they failed, they always fail, dont you always fail as well? You tried so so hard, you studied, you learned you listened, it wasnt enough, its stupid, its like soooo stupid, you shouldnt care, youre cool like that, you still care. You always cared, more than you should have. You have to kill god, hes stupid, he tried to be like you, well he pretended to be, you belived him, you freed him, he lied. They voted for him, he was beloved, your mom loves him, your dad loves him, you never got the hype, maybe you tried it, they spoke so highly of him, in his nice suit and with his firm handshake, with his perfect smile, he nearly got you and your friends arrested, he nearly got you killed, he made the public hate you, you were never safe, were you ever safe? Is anyone ever safe? You dont know, you wish you did, you wish for so many things. That's youth isnt it, being foolish and dumb and trusting people you shouldnt, maybe all adults suck, maybe they all want to see you fail so they can scream about your generation as you crawl up clifs they made by destroying bridges their parents built. Maybe all life is a battle, you were too young to know anything else, they were always fighting, they didnt rest they sacrificed everything, you should be greatful why arent you greatful!! You are so disrespectful!!

...Why dont we talk anymore? You used to be so small, and life was simple, and now with the strechmarks and the too short tshirts came the difficult, there came the power the independance, the knowledge, but you still know nothing, how can you be so dumb. You used to be soooo smart, maybe the world got dumber, the adults seem to, they dont get it, you have to kill god and then theres homework and the extracuricullums and well you gotta sleep sometime so no sorry can't hang out schedules pretty tight sorry guys maybe next month. You know they didnt require seatbellts in cars once? The world got safer, simpler, so why arent you? Why are you still fighting, you should be at the club, sonics maybe, sneaking alcohol into parties, trying vaping, dancing to shitty pop songs, but you arent, you maybe never will, will you even go back to highschool, its probablly ash now, rubble maybe, youve been absent for months, dad talkes about going to sleepovers, the one you did ended in a double kiddnapping. You dont know what youll do in the future, will you have a future? After you kill god maybe, youll go to school, collage, get a job act like everythings normal, carry on, smile, act like the scars you have are from fireworks or dumb accidents, not enemies and spells. You have to kill god, you dont know how, youll have to figure it out, yoy always do, they never gave instuctions for this stuff. You have to kill god, and maybe its not alright, and maybe it never will, but you are trying and you are here with your besties so maybe you can do it, this once.

#dndads #dungeons and daddies #my art #dndads spoilers #dndads s2 #poetry #i wrote this and didnt really edit so its kinda a rant like all my poetry tbh

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queerprayers · 3 months

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does God love me? will He be okay if I go to him, tired and weary, ready to collapse? what will happen when I do that?

Hello beloved, many months later. I'm answering you today because I want you and everyone reading this (and myself) to know the answer to this. Your questions are questions we all ask, ones that people have gone to God with for at least as long as we have stories of God's people.

Mostly today I have God's words for you (through other people), said and experienced much more deeply than I could write, but I will say what I have in my heart too. And that is that God's love is present even when we cannot feel it. God loves you not just when you are aware of this fact. And however much you question it or tear it apart or run away from it or ignore it or forget it, it is all around us and within us. Also, "God loves you" always feels incomplete to me (although it isn't)--I always want to add, take a moment to see the Trinity as Lover/Beloved/Love, see God as Love and the One who Loves and the One who is Love, because love is a verb and a noun and a state of being, and God loves us because we exist in a world in the palm of his hand. God loves you as a person, yes, please know that, and also: our existence is inseparable from the Love moving through each breath. If grief is love with nowhere to go, God is love with everywhere to go.

"Will he be okay" is such an interesting phrase but I think I know exactly what you mean. The answer is that God holds and experiences and is himself the universe, which has space for everything within you. After creating the world, God rested--holy rest is built in to our experiences. God knows and welcomes our need to rest, even commanded it. He will be more than okay--he will rejoice at your arrival, however much of a prodigal son you are, and your collapse will be into him.

What will happen? I can't promise you won't still be tired. There are so many reasons to be tired, and they won't all disappear. Many of things that most tire me are the things that are the things most worth it--the work of love, of caring about the world, of caring for myself, of putting one foot in front of the other. The evil and pain of the world drains us the more we pay attention to it--and yet we are called to do these tiring things. The more I go to God the more love I have in me and the more that care drains me--and yet. It fills me too. God is a well that will never run dry. I drink and am more satisfied and more thirsty than anything else can make me.

What will happen is you will keep caring. And keep working. And hopefully you will have enough rest to not collapse but if you do, if the world fills you with more weariness than you can stand, the One who holds the world in the palm of his hand has room for that. You will be filled with the hunger and the rest of love. A foretaste of the feast to come, when hunger and thirst will be no more.

Some words of scripture for you--may they be a moment of rest.

God is love. Whoever lives in love lives in God, and God in them. (1 John 4:16 NIV)

For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord. (Romans 8:37-39 NIV)

[Elijah] went on a day's journey into the wilderness. He came to a broom bush, sat down under it and prayed that he might die. "I have had enough, LORD," he said. "Take my life; I am no better than my ancestors." Then he lay down under the bush and fell asleep. All at once an angel touched him and said, "Get up and eat." He looked around, and there by his head was some bread baked over hot coals, and a jar of water. He ate and drank and then lay down again. The angel of the LORD came back a second time and touched him and said, "Get up and eat, for the journey is too much for you." So he got up and ate and drank. Strengthened by that food, he traveled forty days and forty nights until he reached Horeb, the mountain of God. There he went into a cave and spent the night. And the word of the LORD came to him: . . . "Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the LORD, for the LORD is about to pass by." Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the LORD, but the LORD was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the LORD was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper. When Elijah heard it, he pulled his cloak over his face and went out and stood at the mouth of the cave. (1 Kings 19:4-13 NIV)

This is probably my favorite Bible passage. When we collapse in the desert and ask to die, God doesn't make us get up right away. First an angel gives us food and water. And then, God is in the gentle whisper, the quiet breath. Elijah finds his purpose after resting and hears God in the quiet. May it be so for us.

. . . Jesus, tired as he was from the journey, sat down by the well. It was about noon. When a Samaritan woman came to draw water, Jesus said to her, "Will you give me a drink?" . . . "Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life." (John 4:6-7; 13 NIV)

This obviously isn't the full story (which you should definitely read if you're not familiar--this is Jesus talking with a woman Jewish people didn't associate themselves with, already knowing her, revealing himself as the Messiah to her), but I wanted you to hear Jesus tired, asking for a drink of earthly water--and also knowing that what he can give us is more than any well can provide. So, too, with rest. Jesus ate and drank and rested on this earth, while being God. He experienced weariness even though he didn't need to, so he could do it with us--while teaching the bigger picture.

And I leave you with this, which answers your question "what will happen" beautifully:

The LORD your God in your midst, the Mighty One, will save; He will rejoice over you with gladness, He will quiet you with his love, He will rejoice over you with singing. (Zephaniah 3:17 NKJV)

Go in peace. If you still carry the weariness of this ask, may it be blessed.

<3 Johanna

#asks #i'm letting go of the embarrassment of answering people late and just. answering #even if the original asker doesn't need it anymore someone will #also i used different translations because the zephaniah is translated multiple ways and i wanted one that used 'quiet'#idk hebrew idk which is more faithful to the text but that word brings it to life for me

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wolfiafuntime · 1 year

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Modern! Cult Leader! Zhongli

My first brainrot!! Or rather, the first one I'm actually writing about lol.

Ft. Modern Sagau X Nonbinary! Reader (you get called adorable once)

TW: cults, children being in cults, diet control, murder

Published: June 14, 2023

Words: 1,742

Pages: 5

This brainrot takes place in a Modern! SAGAU. Where, within the state/city (haven't decided yet) of Teyvat, at Akademiya University, a young and self-absorbed Zhongli- who longs for money, violence, and fame- decides to start a cult.

He makes up this genderless god who created the universe and all life within it. He says that each planet within our solar system once had its own dominant race. That the god fell in love with one of their creations- a dragon-like harbinger of war known as Rex Lapis- and who's love was returned. That together, the pair had seven children (Anemo, Geo, Electro, Dendro, Hydro, Pyro, and Cyro), and they were going to have another. But sadly, before they could be born, one of the planet's kings had grown jealous of their not only their love, but also their power. So, with his cunning wit, the king convinced six other planets to do a hostile takeover. One that killed both the Creator and their kids.

He says that the grieving Rex Lapis, in a blind fury, went and slaughtered every living being that had contributed to his beloved's death. When he was finally finished, he went to the only planet that hadn't betrayed his spouse (Earth), and laid down for a several-million-year depression nap. At first, the people of Earth treated him with kindness. They cleaned his body while he slept, and created various shrines around him so they would have a proper place to put their offerings. But as the years went on, the people mysteriously stopped taking care of him. And so, life began to bloom across the Rex Lapis's body, and he slowly but surely turned into a mountain.

He says that, when Rex Lapis had finally woke up, with life all across him, he didn't have the heart to move. For it reminded him of both his spouse and some of his children. And so, he used his powers to create a tiny solid projection of himself that he could act as his eyes and ears for the new world outside him. And, after getting a good look at everything, he decided to make a human form and conjure various other things he would need to disguise himself as a member of modern society. But doing so had stretched his what was left of his powers (which were weakened from years of disuse, like atrophied muscles) thin. So thin he couldn't do anything more without them breaking, and trapping himself within the mountain for who-knows how long.

This human, as you've probably guessed by now, named himself Zhongli.

Zhongli says that he felt insulted by the people for forgetting his beloved spouse, who oh so graciously gave them life. But without his powers, he couldn't seek vengeance like he wanted. So, he decided to take a more peaceful route and start spreading the gospel of his spouse and kids.

The first few members of his cult are an odd bunch. A drunk wannabe musician, a pair of abused sisters, a married lady, and more. As a reward, he gave each of them a piece of jewelry, crafted with one of his children in mind, so they could identify each other. He called these accessories 'Visions', and said that they 'revealed the mortals who see the truth'. Each vision represented a different one of his born children.

To keep his cultists where he wanted them, he created the 'creators diet', which, while being versatile, successfully damaged his servants' ability to think. He had them pray every morning, every night, and every time they faced any trouble. He had the cult move into a house located on the very mountain he claims his body is trapped under. This house, which he claims was made with power he gained from all the worshipping, is a building many family reunions were held when he was a child. One that his grandparents, who he had not talked to for years at that point, just so happened to give him before dying.

The house was fairly large. Two stories, with two rooms on the ground floor (a large living room and large dining room (with a small kitchen attached)), and eleven rooms (ten bedrooms and a communal bathroom) on the floor above. One of the ten bedrooms was a master bedroom, which he obviously had to himself. While the members spent only slept in and cleaned the house, due to the distance from the city and the fact they all had jobs, he still had them meet every Monday at noon for 'group prayer' and group sparing. During these prayer sessions, he would have his servants give nearly all of their money to him. After all; he was a dragon. And what was a dragon without treasure?

To his mild surprise, but great amusement, the cult grew very big within a few years. Too big for him to manage. So, he divided the job amongst six of the seven original members; a reward for 'enlightening' so many people. He also gave them physical rewards- another, different piece of jewelry he called gnosis, that he 'infused with his power' so that when their natural death comes, they would be able to sit beside his spouse and kids in celestia. Through them, he was able to get six different houses that his expanding cult could move into. Sadly, not everyone could move into one of the buildings. But considering the members that couldn't were all very big names within Teyvat, he was fine with making exceptions.

As the years went on, he slowly started decorating himself with various makeup and props to make himself look more dragon-like. Horns, cat-pupil eye contacts; he even went so far as to get his arms tattooed brown and gold! All to show his people "the growth of his power".

"The more acolytes I-- and my beloved, of course- gain, then more of you should be able to meet their grace when your natural death comes. Why, with enough of you, we might even be able to raise them from the dead!" <- Something Zhongli will soon regret saying on a regular basis.

Sadly, some of them meet their 'natural death's fairly soon. Like Makoto and Rukkhadevata, who had discovered the truth through his goddamn parents of all people. Of course, he killed all four, but that brought some new problems. While Makoto was easily replaced by her sister, he not only needed a replacement for Rukkhadevata, but she had a daughter that needed to be taken care of. Her father didn't know she even existed, and he feared her discovery would start an investigation into his cult. Little did he know that his murders already did.

It took him a few years to discover, but when he did, it was already too late. He, in another panic to preserve everything, killed the mole. But, worried that there was another one, he made plan and slowly acted on it over the following months. First, he had one of the archons buy him a house and faked a 'power tear' because of overusing said powers (he, before leaving, compared it to a muscle tear). Then, he had all but one of the houses change the day and time of the weekly prayer session. Finally, through his archons, he had the seven houses turned into buildings for newcomers, with the only members ever coming for the weekly prayer session (Which he also altered to be on separate days depending on the house they're in).

Don't be mistaken, he still had connections to the cult and most certainly still had control over it! He made absolutely sure of it before he left. The archons, who knew of the truth and were sworn to secrecy, regularly contacted him for guidance, prayers, and offerings. But he was now living a much more normal lifestyle. It was kind of difficult for him, to be honest. He had to wear long sleeves and gloves whenever he left the house. He had no one to talk to him, no one to clean for him, no one to cook for him… But the worst of all, in his opinion, was him having to get a job.

He can't help but be thankful for his past self's decision to complete college and get his degree, even though it had become unneeded before he had even finished school. Without it, he wouldn't be able to get a job as a funeral consultant. And, just his luck, his boss was also a member of his cult! A member of the liyue house, with a pretty little pyro vision ring worn on her ring finger of all things.

He had a difficult time hiding his laughter. Sadly, that was just about the best thing he discovered as of late. For he made a rather worrisome discovery a few months later.

When he first heard he was getting a new neighbor, he didn't think much of it. Other than anticipation for getting a new toy for him to use and abuse, of course. But then he actually saw his neighbor, and he froze for a second. A (s/t) person with the hair, eyes, and body to match his so-called beloved spouse. He cursed his past self for allowing that one geo boy draw the 'human form' of his 'beloved' for a moment. But then he took a deep breath, and went and introduced himself to you.

You- kind, sweet, and adorable you. Who's personality somehow also matches the one he made up for his 'creator'. And he silently worries as he helps you carry some boxes into your deceased grandparents house. Worries about someone from his hundred-membered cult, all of whom now having homes of their own- spotting you. If you accidentally snap his followers out of his control..! No- that can't happen. Won't happen. Not on his watch.

And my brainrot's died. Or rather, passed out, 'cause I wanna continue with this idea, but I have no idea on where to go from here. Maybe he kidnaps you. Maybe he manipulates you into becoming a recluse that only relies on him. Maybe he falls in love with you and decides to make you the vice-leader of his cult. Or maybe he falls into a delusion where you are his dead spouse.

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nychta-luxury · 1 year

Text

An Imposter or a God's Helper?

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You are a normal person, with a pretty average life. Your favorite game is Genshin Impact even though the fanbase is can be..Very concerning to say the least. Ignoring the amount of toxicity, you still loved the game and would play it at every opportunity.

One day, your friend Darling wanted you to look after their account, which kind of surprised you considering Darling was a Genshin fanatic until you learned that Darling needed to focus on their finals. Which is fair. You don't exactly go to collage so might as well help out. what's the worst that can happen?

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Part one (here) Part 2

First story I posted, any advise would be appreciated! Please comment as well :)

Warnings: Not proofread, cult behavior, worship, religious themes.

Darling au

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"What the actual fuck" You say as you get no five star artifact.

"I'm doing a level 90 domain how is it possible that I don't get a single 5 star in three runs?!" You yelled annoyed. Look you understand if it happened in one run but three?!

"Darling, how in the world did you live like this??" You wined

"I JUST WANT A GOOD SANDS" You were hopping that you get some luck in Darling's account with the sands...We don't talk about the luck you get in your own account alright? It could leave a meta player 6ft under.

"Ugh, fine screw luck I can just fight some bosses" You say confidently, after all bosses don't need luck. Sure you can hope to get three of the boss drops but other than that everything else is guarantied!

You hum as you go over to Oceanid with Raiden and start it's battle

.....

"Why are they level 100..?"

--------------------------------

"AHHHH RAIDEN WHY IS YOUR BURST NOT UP YET????"

"WHY THE FUCK DOES ZHONGLI'S SHIELD BREAK IN ONE HIT??? HE HAS 50K HP??"

"TIGHNARI I SWEAR IF YOU DONT AUTO AIM AT THOSE DAMN BIRDS-"

"YAE MIKO WHY ARE YOU NOT CRITING YOU HAVE 70+ CRITE RATE???"

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..... You died over five times trying to fight Oceanid and only got one Cleansing Heart..

"This game makes me want to quit." You say before logging off

---

In Teyvat the dear acolytes were so happy to see their grace yet again, oh how much they missed Darling! They don't care if they saw Darling yesterday, they are always pleased to be in their presence anytime.

However, some of the more observant acolytes have noticed something is off about Darling.

They don't dare question their grace but something is definitely off. Darling has been interacting with the acolytes a little too much not that they don't mind! However they have been muttering things about how they will miss them.

Darling would never leave them right? Their God would never.

So imagine when they got greeted with you and not their beloved grace.

Many of the acolytes are filled with rage especially the immortals. They have been worshiping the divine one for hundreds of years. And when they have been blessed with Darlings guidance, you a lowly creature dare try to steal the almighty's creations?

No one is happy how dare an imposter try to steal the beautiful world the all mighty has created? Even Teyvat itself is displeased with the new management.

They may not be able to kick you out however, They will make your stay here as miserable as possible.

#sagau #genshin impact #genshin sagau #Darling au #genshin cult au #Reader is not Darling

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a-998h · 3 months

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Hi I hope your having a good day.

Anyways I've got a sagau idea

So I've made like ten-ish or over OCs who look exactly like/similar to me because of Lore Reasons.

So pretend Reader has their own universe with a look-alike self-insert and over ten OCs who look just like their IRL self because of Lore Reasons.

It only applies to physical appearance and it ranges from "you're identical to the Reader" to "you could be a relative to them."

Let's say that instead of Reader getting Isekai-ed to Teyvat, one of their OCs who looks just like them lands in there instead and is executed in Imposter AU fashion, no matter how much they say they aren't Reader and never even claimed to be them.

They wake up in their universe like it was just a nightmare, but now have scars permanently acquired from the Imposter Hunt.

As for Reader, they had a nightmare where they saw their OC brutally hunted and killed in all the worst angles and don't take it well.

Next time its time to boot up Genshin Impact, they just hand it to a friend who loves the game but don't have the storage to play it, and just watches them play.

Their acolytes are wondering why their creator isn't controlling them anymore.

"As glad as I am that your letting me play, what's the fuck happened to make you let go of your borderline obsession with it?"

"Nightmare."

"one hell of a nightmare to put this off, the fuck happened?"

"You know [OC's Name]? I had a nightmare they woke up in Teyvat and was murdered and tortured by almost everyone in Teyvat. Because they looked like a Creator Deity."

"There's never even been a mention of a Creator God, and looking like them got one of your favorites killed, good god."

"yeah I can't stomach this anymore. I think I'll focus on my own original creations instead, you can have my account for now on."

"Woof. Not too keen on spoiling my Teyvatian faves myself knowing they might be culpable in making you sad."

"yeah I'm scared of having nightmares of my other look-alikes being murdered."

"Whatever makes you happy."

From then on Teyvat has to grapple with only having attention from a friend of their Creator occasionally giving them the time of day instead of their Creator's doting.

Teyvat will have to grapple with the 'imposter' being one of their many direct creation always meant to look just like them.

Teyvat will have to grapple with having executed a direct creation of the creator and loosing their love because of it. All that love now directed to those very mistreated creations.

Teyvat will have to grapple with their Creator Deity not even knowing/remembering that they created Teyvat, and only thinks they made their current focus.

Okay now I'm imagining an AU where another look-alikes OC whose heard of what happens the first time around wakes up in Teyvat and it very intent on staying away from civilization and finding their own way back to their universe.

Like what if this happened because Teyvat or other parties couldn't get the Creator back yet, so they settled for the next best thing. Their own creation who looked oh so similar.

This fits with my own lore for my series on my blog.

They want you. You're their beloved god but they can't have you, at least not yet. Thanks to Travel and the existence of you controlling them they knew other world exist.

The first they thought was a copy of you. They hunted the imposter, how dare this weakling impersonate their god. The death was brutal. That one woke up with scars.

This repeated for who know how long. As they come to terms with the fact that they won't have you just yet, the settle for someone they think is related to you. There are traits shared between the two of you, but that one isn't their god. But the have to settle until they can have you.

The nightmares that follow you push you away, they're sorry. They want you back, they'll be nice to the next one if you just look their way again. Please, they need you.

There is guilt, they killed a creation of yours with no remorse. They killed someone because they happened to look like you, and Teyvat thought this person was lying about being their god. They'll all make it up to you, just please look their way again.

#genshin fanfic #cult au #sagau #creator!reader #sagau lore #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader

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ancientcraftnoccultism · 1 year

Text

🌿 Herb Of The Day

Title: Lilac

Gender: Feminine

Element: Water

Planet: Venus

📜 Folklore & History 📜

Lilacs are an old, old, species that originated in Persia and then traveled to Europe. They were brought to America in 1750 and then planted at New Jersey Governor Wentworth’s home. Other prominent men fell in love with lilacs. They were reportedly one of Thomas Jefferson’s favorite flowers, and he documented his lilac-planting-methods in 1767. George Washington followed suit and moved existing lilacs on his property to his garden in 1785.

In Greek mythology, Pan, the god of the wild, chased a nymph named Syringa. She turned herself into a lilac bush to escape Pan, and in anger, he broke off the reed-like branches which made pipes. With regret, he tried kissing the broken branches, and as his air pushed over them, sounds were made. Lilacs were responsible for the creation of “Panpipes.”

Russian folklore believed that hanging lilacs above a baby’s bed would bring the child wisdom.

American folklore thought that lilacs could drive away evil and that placing them in a haunted house would displace ghosts. Thought to be symbolic of “old love,” Victorian widows often wore lilacs as a sign of remembrance. One hundred and fifty-five years ago today, April 15th, Abraham Lincoln died after being shot by John Wilkes Booth. Any American — and much of the world — knows the story of the self-educated, country lawyer who became one of our nation’s most beloved presidents. But what many Americans might not realize is how the death of Lincoln reverberated into so many areas of our collective psyche, including literature and horticulture, thanks to Walt Whitman. Walt Whitman was a reporter, printer, writer, traveler and Civil War nurse who is considered one of America’s greatest poets. He self-published Leaves of Grass and worked on it throughout his lifetime, eventually modifying it so that there are eight different editions. Whitman felt a great affinity with President Abraham Lincoln, and when Lincoln was assassinated in the spring of 1865, Whitman grieved.

He wrote years later in Specimen Days about learning of the President’s death:

"I remember where I was stopping at the time, the season being advanced, there were many lilacs in full bloom. By one of those caprices that enter and give tinge to events without being at all a part of them, I find myself always reminded of great tragedy of that day by the sight and odor of these blossoms. It never fails."

While lilacs are first to bloom, their flowers are short-lived. The heady fragrance lingers sweetly at first, but then the blooms start to die, leaving a heavy, cloying smell. One of the first flowers of spring, lilacs contain a natural compound called indole that’s found in flowers — and feces. It’s that undercurrent of the “bottom note” of fragrance that suggests decay and death.

🔮 Metaphysical Properties 🔮

The beautiful May-blooming lilac is one of the loveliest tokens of spring. But they are much more than beautiful shrubs with showy, sweet-smelling flowers. Originally lilacs were planted to repel all evil. Planted near the entryway, lilacs were believed to send out protective vibrations. When the flowers are cut and brought into the home they cleanse any living space. And they'll also remove any unwanted spiritual presence. Blue and white varieties work well for this purpose. Since lilacs are ruled by Venus, they are also used in love spells. Try placing some pink lilacs on your altar while performing a love spell. The dried flowers make a powerful addition to any love sachet.

🍴⚕️ Culinary & Medicinal Properties

The simplest way to enjoy lilacs is as an infusion of the flowers for a lilac sugar. The sugar can then be used in recipes to add lilac flavor to baked goods. This also works with a lilac simple syrup which is just a liquid form of the same thing that’s perfect for making cocktails. For my money though, I think lilac infused honey sounds the best. The sweet floral flavor of lilacs translates beautifully into an ice cream base.

To prevent the recurrence of disease, lilac flowers were used to help strengthen the system and prevent relapse after a patient had healed. They’re said to be specifically good after cases of malaria. Tasting the raw flowers you can actually pick up some of the astringent qualities, as they make your mouth dry and pucker a bit (along with their floral flavors). This astringent quality makes them good for use in skin care products. Lilacs are used as a folk remedy for intestinal worms, as well as a treatment for gastric discomfort and gas. Regardless of the purpose, the most likely medicinal lilac preparation is a tincture, which is just a lilac infused alcohol

#elder witch #baby witch #beginner witch #dark witchcraft #herbalism #herbology #herbs #whimsigoth #witch aesthetic #witch herbs #divination #spirituality #spiritual #witchblr #witchcore #witchcraft #witch tip

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theresattrpgforthat · 6 months

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do you have any games with a sci-fi fantasy setting that are adventuring/exploration focused, similar to numenera or wildsea? the flexibility to play more or less mature games, lots of character creation options, and a solid combat system would be a bonus

THEME: Exploration

God I wish I could recommend As the Sun Forever Sets yet but it’s still in development. It’s a game inspired by The War of the Worlds, and is a Forged in the Dark hex crawl. The creator is partnering with Evil Hat so you’ll want to keep an eye out for when they start crowdfunding it.

If you’re interested in games like The Wildsea, I’d also recommend checking out the Wildsea Discord, where there are plenty of games in the works using the Wild Words engine. I don't think much there has reached playtest levels yet, but there's a lot of game-things that look very interesting.

Anyways, let’s see what else is out there.

Dreams and Machines (Players Guide) (Game-Master's Guide), by Modiphius.

Dreams and Machines is a brand new RPG setting where people come together to rebuild their world following a catastrophic war. You will venture into a world of mystery and adventure, a world where slumbering mechs dot the landscape and people build their lives anew in the wreckage of paradise. Take on the role of one of the new tribes of humanity, an Archivist, Dreamer, Everan, River, or Spear, and forge a path for yourself and your people.

The war against the machines was 200 years ago, but many threats from that era abound, along with others, like raiding parties of Thralls from the deep ruins, that have arisen in the intervening years. The machines are dormant, but they sometimes awake, causing death and destruction until they are stopped. Hideous, mutated, creatures infest the landscape, vicious byproducts of the war. Ghostly nanograms lurk in the ruins promising knowledge or luring the unwary to their deaths. Yet against all this, humanity is rebuilding. People live full, happy lives despite the threats that assail them. Cooperation and mutual aid are everywhere, humans coming together to build something new amid the ruins of the past.

If you are a fan of Horizon Zero Dawn, this game was made for you. While it’s not taking place within the official licensed setting, the inspiration is visible all over this game. The game uses the 2d20 mechanic found among many of Modiphhius’ well-known titles, tailored for the large range of movement and large-scale conflict expected in a game like HZD. Characters are composed of an origin, archetype, temperament and bond, and refer to attributes and skills when determining whether or not the succeed. Some rolls have a difficulty determined by truths attached to locations, scenes, or equipment. Others are contests, and the outcomes are determined by the results from each opponent. These pieces point towards a complex ttrpg that has plenty of potential both for exploration and combat.

If you don’t want to get the Players Handbook and the GM’s Handbook without a bit of a first taste, you can check out the free Quickstart!

Between Clouds, by Andi Licht.

Between Clouds is a colorful, biopunk, tabletop RPG about a family of misfits navigating the open skies atop their beloved flying beast. Life among the clouds revolves around the Kirin, oversized animals that possess volatile genetics and the gift of flight. Across the skies, floating vessels and cities are held aloft by the animated remains of hunted Kirin, whose beating hearts defy gravity itself. Commoners are wary of becoming abducted or eaten by these creatures, while propaganda and folklore only stoke their fears. With an uninhabitable surface below, humanity must learn to coexist with the flora and fauna of their airborne realm or perish.

In Between Clouds players assume the role of Symbiotes, rare outcasts who have formed unbreakable bonds with a Kirin. It is not an easy choice to join forces with such a reviled creature. Those who crave power and a comfortable life seek to hunt the Kirin, and the Symbiotes with them if necessary. Few are ever approached by the flying beasts, and fewer still head the call. Those who do lead nomadic lives. They travel across Empyrea atop their airborne companions, making allies and enemies along the way, all while striving to help those in need and protect the wild Kirin that they encounter.

This game looks so pretty. The world looks very unique, with larger-than-life creatures called Kirin and a number of isolated biomes accessible only through riding on their backs. While the system uses the Year Zero engine, the creator also claims inspiration from Belonging Outside Belonging and Forged in the Dark games, so I’m expecting a complicated world with a lot of narrative prompts to drive the story forward.

Electric Bastionland, by Chris McDowell.

Bastion - The Electric Hub of Mankind. The only city that matters.

In Deep Country, the land stretches forever. The long shadow of our embarrassing past. Villages rot away, trees don’t bother to flower anymore, and the potato is eaten cold from the ground. Things were better before. Better before Bastion. In the Underground are impossible tunnels beneath time and space. Devious machines release their creations into the corridors. All while the twisting network grows and touches everything. Connects everything. You can get anywhere, but there’s always a challenge.

You have a failed career and a colossal debt. Treasure is your only option. A spark of hope in Electric Bastionland.

Electric Bastionland is a roleplaying game written by Chris McDowall, author of the critically-acclaimed Into The Odd. It uses and expands upon the systems developed in Into The Odd, resulting in a rules-set that’s easy to run as a Referee and even easier to play. It’s not a sourcebook or an expansion - it’s a standalone journey into an unknowable world.

If you like OSR games this might be a game for you. Bastion is such a unique city that begs you to explore it. Your characters start as people who have failed in another career before, which is an interesting premise to give you at the beginning of the game. Treasure hunting was nobody’s first option, so your entire crew already has something in common. This feels like a game where survival is difficult, and everyone is trying to get themselves out of a rough place to a slightly less rough place. If you want a fantastic setting that might beat you up a little bit, I recommend Electric Bastionland.

Odyssey Aquatica, by Old Dog Games.

The year is 1960 and you are an Oceanographic Adventurer, a brave or foolhardy soul who goes to the most remote seas and the deepest ocean trenches to conduct groundbreaking research, help those in peril, document the wonders you discover — and bask in the glory. You will chart your character’s life work, from their first expeditions to their last, and record memoirs of the years lived in-between.

ODYSSEY AQUATICA adapts the fast and flexible PARAGON system to a world of 20th century oceanographic adventure inspired by The Life Aquatic, Subnautica, and the life and times of Jacques Cousteau.

I’ve talked before about how AGON is a great tool for exploration games by providing you with a new way to journey, and plenty of the supplements for this system confirm my theory. Odyssey Aquatica keeps the exploration at sea, but brings it into the modern day, adding memoir rules that expand the game’s timeline to cover your characters’ careers. It’s also beautifully laid out, with a stunning boat sheet to help you keep all of your tools and equipment organized. If you like PARAGON games, you’ll like Odyssey Aquatica.

Bug World, by Alfie.

maybe the apocalypse could have been averted, but it wasn’t, and here we are, in a brand new world. this isn’t your cold, nuclear winter, sparse and dead kind of post-apocalypse. the end sent the world on a new course, brimming with life - just not quite as much human life as before. ok, barely any. in the super oxygen-rich atmosphere of the earth today, insect life has thrived.

it only took a few decades for bugs to reach incredible sizes, and now, about a century-and-a-half after the disaster, gargantuan insects are a normal sight. from a ladybug the size of a dog, to millipedes that might as well be trains, to horned beetles with skeletons big enough to use as shelter. bugs are huge and they are everywhere. the remaining humans have domesticated some, trained others, made wary peace with some intelligent groups, and carved themselves out sections of the world to live.

BUG WORLD is a Powered by the Apocalypse TTRPG where players navigate this post-apocalyptic jungle world, with all its scavenger towns, junk economies, and incredibly huge bugs. playbooks include more classic TTRPG options alongside bug wranglers and jockeys, rock collector archaeologists, and mob bosses.

Currently a work in progress, this game is all about exploration and survival. It uses a PbtA ruleset with moves like deal damage and survive harm for combat, and playbooks that specialize in it, like the Brutalizer and the Exoskeleton. As a post-apocalypse game I think it has plenty of opportunity for death and danger, and like plenty of PbtA games, the setting is baked into the character options more than anything else. I like the premise of this game and I think it holds a lot of promise, even if your play group has to build a lot of the setting themselves.

Nibiru, by Araukana Media.

Nibiru is a science fiction tabletop roleplaying game, set in a massive space station in a neighboring solar system. Players take on the role of Vagabonds; people who woke up in the space station with no memories of their past.

Nibiru tackles themes of memory, nature and artificiality through simple mechanics, evocative art and immersive worldbuilding.

This feels like such a unique game to me. Nibiru has a character creation system that you engage with during the entirety of your campaign experience, as your characters are uncovering more of their backstory as they play. You will fill in pieces of your memory as your character tries to do new things, and each new experience has the potential to cement a part of your character’s personality. The world itself is also begging to be explored: the Skyless World is a monstrous space station with an unknown purpose. Each choice your characters make will draw them deeper into the world, and have ripple effects on the world around them.

If you want a unique method of character generation, and a truly breathtaking reading experience, I recommend Nbiru.

Games I have Recommended in the Past

Apocalypse Roadtrip, by Mynar Lenahan.

Songs for the Dusk, by Kavita Poduri

ICON, by Massif Press.

Ultraviolet Grasslands, by Wizardtheiffighter.

#tabletop games #indie ttrpgs #dnd #game recommendations #asks #exploration

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