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#in the end most of you are just common creatures living common existences
fabien-euskadi · 1 year
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Dichotomy: mundane/grandeur (the pitiful option of yours)
The distance between merely vulgar and amorously divine Lies on the split second between the brothel and the shrine. Genius, ingenious: at times, your gleam sets fire to the sky With a will to be more than flesh, more than meets the eye. You’re not all that, you are all that you allow yourself to be, And you live on the prayer to a devil no one (but all) can see. Sometimes, you are cantos of splendour, beauty and dreams; Other times, all masks fall off: you, you’re less than it seems.
                                                                      Fabien Euskadi
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headspace-hotel · 1 year
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I agree with the idea that a lot of humans nowadays have a severe lack of curiosity about the world, but I think there has to be a solution other than shame.
I think about this every day because the fate of our world hangs on curiosity: either we will rediscover the importance and wonders of the soil and bugs and flowers and water and finally with the whole natural world, or this way will be forgotten.
People raised in the great wasteland of the suburbs and roads and buildings have never seen most of the plants and creatures that are supposed to fill every field and meadow. So many humans have never seen with their own eyes more than a scant few of the most common of hundreds of wildflowers that are supposed to surround them. Some live in biomes designated forest and have never witnessed truly mature trees. They do not know what the birds sound like. When they see an ordinary deer, they are awed and amazed by it or even afraid of it. They have never eaten any of the delicious wild fruits that grow in their homeland; all birds except starlings and robins and sparrows are so strange and beautiful that they stare in wonder. They confront insects like people on an alien planet encountering an unknown life form: What is this? Will it hurt me?
I cannot even describe the grief I feel on behalf of humans that grow up and live in the wasteland of pavement and lawn. That we are expected to live in these brutal environments, that we are expected to be content without the right or ability to live alongside living creatures, to walk among wildflowers, to hear birdsong, to feel the plush softness of moss, to see even common bees and butterflies—the fact that we live, work, and raise our children in poisonous wastes where nearly everything has been wiped out, and the simplest and most abundant of natural pleasures are rare privileges—it's cruel. It's a crime against the human spirit. It makes me so angry and sad.
When I started researching plants, I had no idea that I would end up expanding my mind so much that I would be virtually a different person within the year. Before I learned, I could not have imagined the diversity and beauty that exists in the world. My mind did not have the tools to come up with it.
I lived for over twenty years believing that there was only one species of firefly. I lived for over twenty years not knowing that the Southeastern US has native bamboo. I had never tasted the indescribable flavor of a pawpaw or seen the iridescent vibrance of a red-spotted purple butterfly. I had only seen a Pileated Woodpecker out the window of a car. I had never touched true topsoil, the soft, living blanket of rich, sweet-smelling earth full of mycelium, as springy and plush as a mattress. Just one year ago, I knew nothing!
Humans, as creatures, are insatiably curious and hunger for beauty. It is so cruel to deprive a human of relationship with their natural environment.
It is no wonder that we are all addicted to the internet—we have a crucial need that is unfulfilled. Compared with a forest, the world of lawns and buildings is so ridiculously flat and unstimulating. You would expect humans in such a place to feel constantly bored, restless, frustrated, and incurably sad.
I feel that lack of curiosity can be a chosen thing, but it is also a defense mechanism against a world that will feel like sandpaper on the senses of the curious.
But we need curiosity to fix this—we need the ability to notice the living things that have crept in at the edges of the wasteland and be infected and tormented by their beauty. We need to recognize the forest reaching into our cage in the form of tiny saplings. We need to discard the word "weed," not because it is derogatory because it is fundamentally incurious—it designates a plant as needing no identity outside of its unwantedness. We must learn their names. We must wonder what their names are.
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bogleech · 8 months
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TOP TEN DINOSAURUSES
maybe you're wondering my most tenned favorite dinosauruses??? The science study of dinasacacers is called "dinosaurusology" by leading experts like myself, and it is constantly changing as we make new uncoveries almost every tuesday when we find new bones in my cousin rob's garage (he hasn't thrown anything out since the 90's!) As such bear in mind that up to two facts I am about to share could become dated over the course of the next century, however as both the king and queen of science this will only be true if I'm still available to approve the new facts. If I'm dead or kind of tired then nobody will ever know what's true anymore so you should be nice to me. #10: OVIRAPTOR
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OVIRAPTOR was a good model for what all dinosacans were like: it was a wrinkly lizard that slithered in filthy dirt and had difficulty standing upright because its bones were made of rocks. This is why we have the term "the stone age," so be grateful you're living in "the bone age!" Oviraptor's name means "eggs velociraptor" because it was a kind of velociraptor that stole eggs. It didn't know what to do with them because nobody invented cooking yet and raw dinosaur eggs were disgusting, so every oviraptor starved to death.
#9: IGUANADON
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This was the last known photograph of IGUANA DON (not to be confused with his cousin iguana dan) when george washington invented photographs 2 million years ago. Don was an ugly disgusting hilarious lizard monster with one horn on its nose and he died because he evolved a dining room in his torso exactly the right size for 21 cavemen to walk in and eat his kidneys. This was not helped by don's instinct to sleep on a big porch under a chandelier.
#9 DIMETRODON
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DIMETRODON was the most common dinosaur of jurassic, which was the fifth and final era of dinosaurs after the ice age but before the ediacaran. In fact dimetrodon was the very last dinosaur to ever exist on earth before they were all eaten to death by the ediacaran's dominant predator: a species of swirly looking weird rock. Nobody knows why these swirly looking weird rocks died out, but it's most likely because dimetrodon was so poisonous from its diet of entirely pufferfish. You can tell it was a sea dinosaur because of its fish fin! #8: PTERADACTYL
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PTERODACTYL was a regular dinosaur until it got married to a species of bat and its bat wife laid a bunch of pterodactyl eggs! This woodcut is however inaccurate: flying would not be invented until president obama discovered the first airplane in 1998, so pterodactyl couldn't possibly have stayed in the air and just immediately fell. The long 900 million year reign of the pterodactyl abruptly ended when the last one finally hit the ground (it took longer in those days because the oxygen disaster made so much more air) #7 SNORKASAURUS
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SNORKASAURUS was completely unique among all dinocaurs by having a really long neck. It was one of the largest creatures to ever roam the earth at over 7 feet tall, or exactly 12 meters to those of you living in Liberia or Myanmar! This is the last known photograph of snorkasaurus, giving birth to the first cavemen. Snorkasaurus went extinct because all of them did this instead of making baby snorkasauruses. This is because like all dinosaurii they had only a tiny peanut for a brain, and nobody was around to give them 'the talk' because that wasn't invented yet.
#6 SMILODON
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SMILODON was a very special dinosaurn because it was the first one to stand up on its hind legs after years of rigorous exercise and weight training. By inventing this new way of walking, Smilodon made it possible for the first monkeys to evolve! This is called "convergent" evolution.
#5 BULBASAUR
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BULBASAUR was a majestic and beautiful species of neopet unfortunately disliked by the scientific community because it is the reason there are no flying dinosuars. Bulbasaur was the first ever flying dyanasar ever invented, 19 billion years ago on September 10, 2001, but the project was discontinued when its first test flight ended in a tragic accident. That's right: on September 11, 2001, Bulbasaur crashed into the stock market, causing the great depression that lead to the civil war :'( now to this very day, flying dinosarers are against the law.
#4 YOSHI
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YOSHI is a type of dinersaulophus called a "bird," which was actually the second attempt by early neanderthal alchemists to manufacture a street legal flying dinnersauran, but the New Zealand government realized if dinophlofbuses can fly, then bats would no longer be special, and since bats are New Zealand's only major export it would have been an economic disaster. The queen of Australia (New Zealand's largest city) ordered the CIA to sand all of the wings off of these early prototype birds. Every bird tragically went extinct when it looked down, noticed how high up it was and remembered it could not fly, activating the effects of Earth's gravitational field.
#3 ANOMALOCARIS
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ANOMALOCARIS was the dinosorcerous that discovered the first primitive cave painting of a modern day crab and invented carcinisation. All the other dinanders laughed at Anomalocaris for wanting to turn into a crab, but guess what??? Every single kind of dinosaur is dead but there's a crab still alive at 29, making it the oldest person in the world. Who's FUCKING laughing now!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
#2 EARL SINCLAIR
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This is the last known photograph of Earl Sinclair, seen here as an uncredited extra in "Avatar 3: Lost in New York." Earl Sinclair was a sindonaur species that could disguise itself as a human by putting on sunglasses, a necessary adaptation in order to hide from the largest predator dancasore to ever live: Mellisuga helenae. However, near the end of the coal age, M. Helenae finally remembered that sunglasses hadn't even been invented yet. Look carefully, and you'll notice nobody is wearing sunglasses at all in this scene, making Earl Sinclair stick out like a sore thumb! If you're still having difficulty, here's a zoomed in image of this majestic thunder lizard:
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Unfortunately......this wardrobe malfunction made Mr. Sinclair just as obvious to his ancient enemy, and the last Earl Sinclair's brains were sucked out on September 11, 2001, the darkest day in British history because he was the only one who knew the recipe to chicken mcnuggets (the only british food.) To this day all british people are extinct but you can still see their fossilized skeletons waiting in line at the department of motor vehicles.
#1 CONCAVENATOR
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Concavenator was an Early Cretaceous carcharodontosaurid up to six meters in length with an unusual pointed crest on its back.
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cherepizza · 5 months
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Wow it's been more than a month. Didn't realize that. I guess I have something to show but uhh my sketchbook got under heavy rain so paper here it's a little wavy. It's a miracle it had so little damage considering what happened to my other stuff. Also nights proceed to get longer and I wasn't lucky to take better photos. Anyway..
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All beacons' religions are based on mythology and existence of numerous gods and spirits inhabiting the world. The closest thing they have to monotheism is a religion formed around the existence of a transcendent all-present force (spirit) which, however, cannot perceive the world and interact with it by itself, only being able to do so by splitting itself into many different "sides". Only sides are able to maintain physical bodies and though they all come from the same source and it the end would become one again, they are treated as completely different entities. There're 8 major sides – 8 major gods, other deities are considered lesser. Aand I'll just leave it there because I'd better wait for the time I have a fine picture depicting gods to have at least something accompany a ton of sentences that would come describing them.
Many religions practices and ceremonies are performed at altars. The most simple home altar is a wooden table, low enough so that a beacon would have to kneel down to perform any ritual. The most common offering is food, other offerings include things associated with a specific god. Watered down alcohol may be poured only on certain celebrations. It's a very uncommon practice and in some households it's not allowed and has to be done secretly. After all, you want your gods to be sober to do their duty.
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Living creatures sacrifices are also practiced, but sacrificing other beacons is forbidden (at least on the territory of the forementioned "all comes from one spirit" believers). Animals cannot be sacrificed on wooden altars and it's quite rare for a beacon to a have a stone one at home, so cooking and eating a designated animal or specific parts of it (obviously offering a piece to the gods in the process) on a celebration is usually enough.
An interesting religious thing are these sticks made from wood or bone, always coming in number of 8. If their owner didn't make them themselves, they may have some standard decorations and phrases pre-carved but most part of their sides would always remain empty for the owner to fill. Each stick is devoted to one of the major gods and contains an encarved list of things which a beacon wants to ask for from the deity. An altar is not needed when you have sticks but you should still make an offering if possible.
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The sticks also serve as some sort of passport as encarvings may contain information about beacon's place of birth, place of work, profession, number of children and other things like the kind of crop their village grows even if the owner has nothing to do with farming but wants the crop to be protected anyway.
All stick sets are personal and follow their owner to the grave. However, taking copies is not frowned upon. Keeping the original set for yourself and leaving a copy with the deseased is also fine but the ritual of changing sets should be performed by close relatives who wish to keep the original sticks as a memory. Otherwise it might be considered disrespectful.
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monstersdownthepath · 23 days
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Deity: The Sea of Teeth
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(Pic source: Craig Spearing, though it doesn’t seem to be on his site anymore and exists only as reuploads)
Chaotic Evil God of Endless Hunger
Domains: Chaos, Death, Destruction, Evil, War Subdomains: Demon, Entropy, Catastrophe, Cannibalism, Blood Favored Weapons: Bite Symbol: Fangs surrounding bones, stars, and/or planets. Sacred Animals: All gluttonous animals. Sacred Colors: N/a
The Abyss is deeper than any being could possibly comprehend, stretching an unknowable distance into the chaos beyond what sane beings consider the relative safety of their reality. Whether it has an end or a bottom is a mystery none have yet solved, as the deeper one goes, the more they must grapple with the knowledge that the hundreds of layers occupied by the foulest sorts of demons are merely the surface level of the Abyss, the safest environs a mortal of this cosmos can exist in. To venture into the Abyss is taxing enough, but to delve deep into the Outer Rifts, where the primordial qlippoth and beasts even stranger roam, is something few can withstand for longer than fleeting moments. It is easy, though not entirely accurate, to compare the demon-occupied Abyss as something akin to the levels of the ocean where the sun still reaches. It is dangerous, laden with hazards and predators which may end the life of an explorer... But the Rifts? If one were still comparing the Abyss to the ocean, the Outer Rifts are depths where sunlight cannot reach, where the pressure is so intense that even steel buckles and crumbles, where the cold is so penetrating that nothing can defend against it, and where life as we know it simply cannot survive.
But like the ocean’s darkest depths, there is still life to be found, alien and strange. Predating even the eldest of the gods, the qlippoth crawl and slither and skitter in endless varieties and maddening shapes. From tiny insects to the great, demigod-level Qlippoth Primordials, qlippoth span across every branch of existence, forming grotesque and twisted mirrors to the biospheres found all over creation, all living and eating and dying and transforming. It is a great, eldritch ecosystem, where even worlds must feed.
And with the imprisonment of Rovagug, it has lost its apex predator.
Ask any zoologist what happens to any ecosystem in which an important predatory force is removed and you will receive a similar answer; the prey gorges itself until it starves, reproduces until there is no more room, and the cycle of life comes to an abrupt and terrible halt as the links in the chain give way one by one. In extreme cases, the entire environment is destroyed by the unbalance. While it’s true that the Abyss has no shortage of predatory creatures all willing and able to consume one another, none of them work on the scale that Rovagug did, devouring and destroying entire landscapes and worlds at once to keep the growth of the Abyss itself from becoming too dangerously rampant. 
But now that he is gone, the balance is upset, and the invasive species that is demonkind has done more harm than good as the natives of the Rifts experience an apocalyptic collapse. Unfortunately for the cosmos as a whole, from the deepest depths of the Outer Rifts a new apex predator has risen to fill the vacuum.
It has no name, but it has many titles; the Sea of Teeth is the most common one, but it is also known as “the Devouring God,” “the Black Well,” “Hadal,” “the Consuming Cascade,” “the Final Tide,” among others and their many variations. It is more location than creature, as though an entire layer of the Abyss has shuddered to terrible life and apocalyptic hunger, branching titanic tendrils throughout the rest of the plane to consume all which falls in its shadow. To those that know if its existence, it is hunger unimaginable, a ravenous force that depletes and destroys everything it crosses. It does not just settle for the twisted flora and fauna, but the very landscape itself is chewed apart, and when there is no matter left it drinks up the local quintessence until the fabric of the layer frays and collapses. It constantly sends tiny tendrils of its matter throughout the Abyss to hunt for new rich feeding grounds, the smallest and weakest of these ‘roots,’ pinpricks of its essence that emerge through tiny portals it gnaws in reality, take on the shape and strength of Shoggoths with the Savage Mythic Template. Because of the immense power of these tiny specks of the greater Sea, it rapidly overtakes any stretch of the Abyss which doesn’t contain any creature or force capable of combating its searching limbs, but any layer with such defenses enjoys some level of safety from the greater Sea. Slaying the roots causes the limb from which they grew to recoil slightly, slowing its spread into a particular layer and allowing them time to plan for the next incursion.
The irony of the Abyss finding itself besieged by a threat which spreads across multiple planar layers and which requires constant, combined efforts to fight back against is lost on many demons. And it is indeed demons which find themselves at the fore of the Sea’s attacks; the Sea is indiscriminate in its feeding frenzies, consuming all in its path with no regard for the qlippoth it technically shares kinship with (with the sole exception being the Iathavos, the only being which it ignores entirely), but much how like animals of Golarion will flee an impending natural disaster hours before it happens, qlippoth seem to possess an innate sense of when and where the Sea will strike, assuring only the injured, the slow, the ill, the foolish, and the foolhardy are actually devoured. Why and how they preternaturally know when it will arrive is a secret they have not shared, and likely never will. 
It is believed that no fewer than six entire Abyssal layers have already been entirely consumed in the short few centuries that the Sea has been known to mortal scholars (and perhaps many before anyone even realized it was there), several dozen are actively besieged by its reaching limbs, and hundreds more are being inspected by its roots. Any normal plane which hosted such a force would quickly be rendered lifeless and barren, but the sheer size and repulsive fecundity of the Abyss assures no such catastrophe will occur, and even if the “shallows” of the Abyss were to be depopulated entirely (an impossible task in and of itself, even for a god), the Sea would simply retreat into the deeper Rifts to continue its feast in unknowable lands until the shallows recovered and regrew, just as a roving predator does when prey is exhausted in one area.
... But this relieving truth has yet to be uncovered, and will likely not be known for several millennia. In the current times, a mere few centuries after its emergence, the Sea is spoken of by doomsayers and prophets as an existential threat of cosmic magnitude, threatening the entirety of existence as it’s known. There are many who believe that the Sea’s emergence is a sure sign that the Abyss will soon be destroyed, devoured utterly down to the last demon larvae, and demons as an entity in the universe will completely cease to exist. These same thinkers and madmen are divided on what, exactly, this would cause in the Great Beyond as a whole; some posit that the removal of the tumor that is the Abyss will usher in a profound universal transformation in which certain breeds of Evil can no longer exist, while others think the Abyss itself will transform into an entirely new Neutrally-aligned plane! The implications of this transformation is, itself, a topic of conjecture and debate. Planar scholars from all corners of creation have driven themselves to fevered frenzies trying to imagine what a universe without demonkind would look like, whether or not demonic power would simply emerge in a new form elsewhere... and whether or not an end to demons as they’re currently known warrants aiding the Sea of Teeth in some way.
Any mind pondering the possibilities of the Sea destroying the Abyss itself must, of course, answer the inevitable question of “what happens afterwards?” Perhaps it will consume itself or starve to death! Perhaps it will slink back into the Outer Rifts, finally satisfied that it has killed every last demon. Perhaps it will pupate into something worse... Or perhaps, once the Abyss has been consumed, the Sea will rush to fill the empty roots left behind which will connect it to a thousand new feeding grounds, swelling further to break down the shorelines of all creation and bring about the end of all things.
Whatever the truth is, the Great Beyond will have to wait and see. There IS one absolute truth that can be shared with whomever is reading this, though: Despite what doomsayers scream of what will happen were it to drink the Plane of Water, inhale the flames of Creation’s Forge, or invade the Ethereal Plane to consume the thoughts and dreams of mortals, the Sea of Teeth does not work towards such apocalyptic goals. It does not plan its assaults, it does not consider the consequences of its actions, and it does not dream of the endless banquet waiting for it just outside the walls of the Abyss.
It, in fact, does not think at all.
----- Obedience and Boons -----
Many cultists, madmen, studious Outsiders of every shape and description, and scholars of every species and alignment all ascribe different reasons and motivations to the Sea’s actions, whether it be divine rage against demons, a rampage to eventually free Rovagug and prove that he is truly the lesser evil when compared to the unseen powers in the deeper Rifts, the incarnate form of the Abyss’ predilection for predation and parisitism turned horribly self-destructive, the incarnation of hunger as a concept, or maybe even the herald of the end times... but the truth is truly right in front of them, described in the first section of this very article: The Sea of Teeth is a hungry beast which has found a stretch of uncontested land, and has begun to gorge itself on a population that has few true defenses against an invasive species.
Though it is indeed divine, it is still essentially a simple-minded predator driven entirely by instinct. It is a form of life which operates on a scale that a common mind struggles to envision, but it serves a function that is familiar, almost mundane, and its presence in the Great Beyond is unfortunate happenstance, not an apocalyptic omen. Any ‘meaning’ to its rampage or claims that it is acting towards some unfathomable goal are pure conjecture, the product of minds desperate to establish a pattern or see some divine truth where a mundane truth would suffice. A hungry wolf which devours a farmer’s sheep is not some punishment for his failure or some insatiable, sadistic beast torturing him because he cannot fight back... it’s a hungry animal, any mythologizing or anthropomorphizing is the fault of the farmer, not the wolf. 
This truth, however, is beyond most creatures in the cosmos, to whom the Sea is an incomprehensibly threatening force of annihilation. To them, it is whatever they want it to be, whatever they project, and often whatever they fear it is, as it has no desire (or even ability) to answer questions about itself. It has unintentionally gathered numerous cults in its name--doomsday and otherwise--all led by powerful figureheads who’ve achieved some divine contact with it... or at least contact with a figurehead which worships the Sea, in some bizarre and indirect form of faith. There exists a ritual one can use to connect to the Sea and gain some of its power at the cost of becoming perpetually ravenous, a ritual used by many to achieve positions of power in the budding cults of the Sea of Teeth, up to and including becoming divine fronts in and of themselves... which inadvertently makes them beacons for spells such as Commune attempting to reach the true Sea, further muddying the waters about its supposed goals and desires. Undoubtedly, one of the most famous of these figureheads is Chormilg, the Thousanth Tooth, a powerful Nyogoth Cleric/Exalted of the Sea of Teeth (CR 18/MR 6) which claims to have hatched from one of the Sea’s teeth after it broke itself against the heart of a forgotten deity, and thus is the literal mouth-piece of the god. Chormilg is the closest thing to a true leader that the disparate cults of the Devouring God have, and is currently the highest authority in the Sea’s faith, acting as the deity’s proxy, AND the reason many believe the Sea’s hunger to be primarily directed at demons, as Chormilg itself despises demonic life.  
The largest cult to the Sea is the one founded by Chormilg, known as the Salgurat, an Abyssal word translating to “Ebon Maws,” a cult devoted to capturing and consuming demons and their mortal fanatics, as well as making regular, organized sacrifices to the Sea of Teeth to empower it in the hopes of accelerating its growth through the Abyss. Some smaller cults grow from gatherings of heretics among the faiths of Thuskchoon, Jubilex, Cyth-V’sug, Zevgavizeb, and other great and ancient beasts of the Abyss, who believe their former deities to be the offspring of the Sea and have thus chosen to serve the “Progenitor Maw” or “Hunger’s Father” out of respect. Other cults have many reasons for their worship, such as Creation’s Eclipse, a cult of daemons and their maniacal mortal followers hellbent on finding ways to help the Sea enter Creation’s Forge and snuff it. Some of these smaller factions even have benevolent, though misguided, hopes for a universe without the Abyss, Whatever the case may be, any follower of the Sea are as varied as the morsels it consumes, coming from all over the universe.
The Obedience ritual to serve the Devouring God is a lesser form of the Shores of the Sea of Teeth occult ritual, and both of them have the same effect at different intensities: It convinces the Sea that the creature undertaking the ritual is actually a part of itself, and so it sends a tendril of its essence and a spark of its power into the creature, often physically mutating them. This offers the creature not only supernatural might, but some protection from the Sea’s appetite, with many audacious beings--Chormilg included--nesting within the god’s churning body, believing themselves favored by the horror due to their faith and devotion, unaware they’re doing the mystic equivalent of dabbing an ant colony’s scent upon themselves to avoid being torn apart by the swarm. The Sea has no loyalty to anything but its own stomachs, any power it offers given only through unintentional trickery or divine reflex, but it is nonetheless a power that any creature--regardless of alignment--can tap into, should they know how... and should they brave the consequences. 
As a true deity, the Sea of Teeth can grant Boons to any creature taking the Deific Obedience feat, but it does not possess a dedicated Prestige Class such as Feysworn or Diabolist. Boons are typically gained slowly, achieved at levels 12, 16, and 20, but by entering the Evangelist, Exalted, or Sentinel Prestige Classes as early as possible, they can be obtained at levels 8, 11, and 14 instead. While normally a deity as ambivalent as the Sea would grant only one set of Boons, the fanatic devotion of countless beings and the fear of infinitely more has created a potent psychic impression upon it, allowing it a full three.
Obedience: Spend at least 30 minutes meditating on the sensations of hunger while surrounded by circle of ritual objects made of materials harvested from creatures you’ve killed and consumed portions of. At the conclusion of this meditative period, eat anything you have available--preferably portions of creatures you’ve helped slay in the last 24 hours--until you’re full. Benefit: You become permanently afflicted by the Oracle’s Hunger curse the first time you perform the Obedience ritual, and the curse cannot be removed by mortal magic. For 24 hours after performing your Obedience, your total Hit Dice is treated as your Oracle level for the purpose of determining the intensity of your curse; failing to perform your Obedience causes your curse to weaken, treating only half your Hit Dice as your Oracle level for the purpose of the curse. If you are already an Oracle, for 24 hours after performing your Obedience, your Oracle level is treated as 4 higher for determining the intensity of your new Hunger curse.
------ EVANGELIST ------
Boon 1: The Preview (Sp): Gain Grease 3/day, Hold Person 2/day, or Spiked Pit 1/day.
Boon 2: Titanic Appetite (Ex): The gnawing hunger in your belly drives you to eat anything you can get your hands on, trusting your connection to your god to protect you from the consequences. You become immune to the effects of all ingested poisons and diseases, and cannot be sickened, nauseated, or cursed by items, food, or creatures you eat. You can digest and draw sustenance from any matter you can consume. Any bite attacks you have ignore the first 5 points of Hardness when damaging objects, widening your potential palate.
Boon 3: Crushed by the Depths (Sp): Once per day, you can focus the power of the Sea onto your foes, allowing it to reach across space and devour them utterly. You may use Implosion once per day as a spell-like ability, but you may target even incorporeal or gaseous creatures with it, and if the target succeeds the saving throw against the effect, they still take 10d6 points of damage. When you target a creature with this ability it possesses a unique visual effect: a phantasmal, protean mass envelops the target and crushes inwards. Any creature killed by this ability is entirely consumed; any nonmagical items they possessed are also destroyed, and magic items fall into their former space.
------ EXALTED ------
Boon 1: A Bite of Everything (Sp): Gain Adhesive Spittle 3/day, Allfood 2/day, or Dispel Magic 1/day.
Boon 2: Ravening Form (Ex/Sp): Your connection to the Sea of Teeth deepens and more of its essence flows into you. This connection twists your body in incomprehensible ways, granting you the constant benefits of 50% Fortification and the Compression universal monster ability. In addition, once per day as a standard action, you may undergo a horrifying but thankfully short-lived surge of vitality as tendrils of the Sea’s matter slither through your body to restore you, gaining the benefits of the Regeneration spell.
Boon 3: Whirlpool of Teeth (Sp): Once per day you may open a portal leading directly to the Sea of Teeth to send entire pieces of the world to your god, in effect casting Maw of Chaos as a spell-like ability. The spell is altered in the following ways: Each round at the start of your turn, all creatures and unattended objects within 40ft of the Maw are automatically pulled 10ft closer to the Maw before it makes its CMB check (potentially allowing it to pull a target twice in one round); this summoned Maw lasts an additional +3 rounds after you stop concentrating on it; and you are unaffected by any of the Maw’s effects, though you may not enter its space. 
------ SENTINEL ------
Boon 1: Soften the Meal (Sp): Gain Ray of Sickening 3/day, Blindness/Deafness 2/day, or Ray of Exhaustion 1/day.
Boon 2: Slavering Jaws (Ex): Your teeth sharpen to frightening and deadly points and your jaw can distend to repulsive and terrific effect. The bite attack gained from your Hunger curse becomes a primary natural attack which deals damage as if you were two size categories larger (2d6 for a Medium creature). The bite attack ignores 5 points of Hardness or Damage Reduction and is considered a magic weapon. Finally, due to the horror your mouth has become, you gain a profane bonus to Intimidate checks equal to your Strength modifier, and you may make an Intimidate check as a swift action against any creature within 30ft when you confirm a critical hit against another creature with your bite attack.
Boon 3: Hole in the Universe (Ex): Your stomach becomes an extradimensional space which partially intersects the Sea of Teeth. The bite gained from your Hunger curse gains the Grab and Swallow Whole abilities if they did not already have them, and you may attempt to swallow any creature of your size or smaller that you have grappled. Your extradimensional stomach may have any number of creatures or objects of any size swallowed at once. Creatures and unattended objects within your stomach take 6d6 bludgeoning and 6d6 Acid damage each round. Extradimensional spaces (such as Bags of Holding) cannot be opened while within you, but otherwise do not interact with you in a destructive way. If a swallowed creature deals enough damage to cut free, instead of creating a hole, the pain forces you to regurgitate all creatures and objects in your stomach at once; you are nauseated for 1d6 rounds and cannot use Swallow Whole for 1 minute after.
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rin-fukuroi · 1 month
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𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐈 𝐛𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞? [𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐞]
Hey! This is just the beginning of a voluminous work, the full version of which can be read on my Boosty. This job was very hard for me, and I have never seen any other work that would touch on such a terrifying topic in its plausibility. I'll be glad if you want to read it in its entirety~
Fandom: Honkai: Star Rail
Pairings: yandere!Blade x fem!reader  
Warnings: NSFW, NSFL, dark content, Red Room*, captivity, illegal broadcasts and filming with scenes of cruelty and violent acts of a sexual nature, physical violence, gang rape, dry sex, rough anal and oral sex, cumshot, detailed descriptions of blood and bodily injury, mention of necrophilia and murders (both strangers and the reader), Stockholm syndrome, the reader has pronounced mental abnormalities from the beginning to the end of the work.
*Red Room — hidden sites on the darknet that host interactive live broadcasts with torture, violence and murder of people, where anyone can donate any amount in cryptocurrency and order any torture or method of murder via chat, thus telling the executioner exactly what he needs to do with the victim.
The Red Rooms, of course, are closed, and the average user will never be able to access these broadcasts.
Until now, the existence of such broadcasts is questioned, but there were also real cases that indirectly had something in common with the description of the Red Room. However, scammers mostly use such a legend, deceiving people for considerable sums, promising to give them access to a cruel event.
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art by Dakotchi
Darkness, through the thickness of which a dim light occasionally breaks through, so weak that every time it loses to the darkness, dying somewhere in the distance of a spacious but empty room. The rotten smell of dampness and metal, causing nausea. Plaintive screams, begging to stop… You're not entirely sure if you're actually hearing them, or if they've already settled in your head, depriving you of sleep day after day.
Day by day… More than one day has passed behind the high metal doors, and you don't even know when the sun rises and sets again.
The darkness and the cold from the rusty metal bars scratching your cheek. Rot and screams. Then only silence and nausea. Even the outlines of your own body are gradually blurred, swallowed up in pitch darkness, in which you can't even see your own hands. It's so cold, so lonely and so scary. Even the dreams that you see when you disconnect from impotence and hunger repeat what your eyes see, your ears hear and your skin feels in a disgusting reality. Or are they not dreams at all? Have you slept at all since you got here?
The steps. Every time you hear that heavy clatter of boots on metal, it is drowned out by the frantic pulsations of the heart in your ears. When will these steps catch up with you? What will their owner do to you? Even the most heart-rending screams that reach you from somewhere far away outside the cage in which you are locked, at some point subside. They dissolve into a deafening silence that greedily swallows them, forever erasing them from the face of the Earth.
It will consume you, too, won't it?
No, no, there must be some way out of here. People are never abducted for no reason, right? If the person who locked you in here needs something, all you have to do is give it to him and everything will return to its place. Your little apartment, friends, family… Daylight. You'll see it all. It's going to be very soon.
Humans are such strange creatures. We are afraid of the unknown, but we are inevitably drawn to it. Your body shudders instinctively, and a chilling shiver runs through your skin every time you hear someone approaching this room, but you still hesitate.
«Come in here, please...»
«Let me go...»
«No, don't come in...»
«I'm hungry, I want to talk to someone, please...»
«ENOUGH!»
Your own voice in your head sounds so loud, contradicting yourself. Over and over, he whispers, screams and grates. When will he shut up, when will he leave you alone? You want silence, the very silence that carries away the voices of strangers begging for mercy. Why can't that drown out your voice? He is unbearable, so annoying that you want to crack your skull, pull it out by the roots and throw it into the dense thicknesses of darkness that slowly absorbs your feet and fingers.
«Enough… Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up, please...»
— Help... someone…
Chapped lips stretch, trembling flesh tingles with burning pain from salty tears rolling down your cheeks. What have you become? Why can't you just calm down? The sharp claws of fear dig into the frantically pounding muscle in your chest, drawing blood from the throbbing flesh. Red-hot metal spreads under the skin, and a hand reaches for the wounded organ, clutching the fabric of a tear-soaked shirt in desperation. So you still have clothes on…
The disgusting vibrations of the grinding of metal on metal make your spine shiver, and bright light obscures your eyes, forcing you to squint, reflexively hiding even deeper into the corner of the cage. The sound of boots now sounds so close, driving chaotic thoughts out of your head with each new step. Has someone come to save you? Really come? Won't you be alone anymore?
You sniffle, crumpling your shirt tighter with your fingers before hesitantly opening your eyes. The unfamiliar silhouette triples and blurs in a blinding glow, and you blink several times, trying to focus your vision on the figure standing in front of you. The first thing you see are dusty black big boots and long legs in gray trousers splattered with something dark. A man, right?.. His gaze slides higher over the slightly rumpled fabric of a black shirt with sleeves rolled up on muscular scarred forearms and long fingers adjusting leather gloves on his wrist. Long dull maroon strands wave slightly at the level of the man's hips before he crouches in front of your cage. Your heart constricts in fear, and you look away, afraid to look into his eyes, but then slowly turn your head back, noticing a black mask hiding his face on the stranger's face. Even the eyes are hidden behind a thick shadow, and only the disheveled ends of the hair scatter over the matte surface when the man tilts his head to the side. You can't see his face, but you can feel his gaze with every nerve in your body. Heavy, piercing, as if seeing through you.
The mere presence of this person in the room makes your blood run cold, and the words do not add up to sentences in any way, leaving your mouth open and your lips trembling in pathetic attempts to close back. Can he... help you in any way?
— Get up, — the man's voice is even darker than the oppressive aura surrounding him as he pulls the keys out of his pants pocket with a loud ring of a bunch that makes you flinch with fright when opening the cage door.
— You... — you mumble incoherently to yourself, hugging your knees to your chest. — What do you want from me?..
How difficult it was for you to ask this short question. If this stranger has the keys to the cage, then he locked you in it. If he heard the same screams that you heard, then at least he didn't do anything about it, or worse, he was the cause of these people's suffering. If his trousers are covered in blood…
The man ignores your question by reaching into the cage and casually grabbing your shoulder. The grip is so strong that you feel the blood rush with a painful burning sensation to the place where his fingers roughly squeeze your flesh, and your body reflexively shrinks even more, tearing a dissatisfied clucking from the stranger's tongue.
— NO! PLEASE! — it's been so long since you've speak, that your voice already sounds hoarse and pathetic, as loud as the constricted lungs allow it, desperately spitting out air while the man indifferently pulls you forward. Your head hits the rusty threshold of the cage, and your screams are replaced by stifled sobs.
— Stop it, — the man spits out irritably, picking you up by the hand from the floor like a doll.
For a moment, the stranger is silent, staring intently at how a thin trail of blood slowly flows from the scratch on your forehead as you tremble in his grip, unintelligibly repeating «please» over and over again, making weak attempts to get back into the cage.
— Please… I'll give you everything you ask for.… Let me go…
How many times had he heard something like this before? Even in this state, you feel how deeply he doesn't care about your meaningless babble, but what else can you do? You are so weak that you can barely stand on your feet, keeping your balance only by a painful grip on your shoulder until it forces you to drag yourself towards the open door.
— Wait! Where are you taking me?!
The corridors outside are so narrow and stink with an even more nauseating metallic smell, which only gets worse as the stranger takes you further away from the cage, which now seems to be the safest place in this endless maze-like building. You stumble, almost falling, still hoping to escape from the grip of a man who absolutely doesn't pay the slightest attention to your pathetic attempts. No matter how hard you try to cling to the walls, you don't have enough strength to make yourself at least try to stop. The tenacious grip of a large gloved hand is so strong that it seems as if a stranger's fingers are pushing through your skin and flesh to the bone, pulling out more and more screams and sobs from your strangled throat.
Through the tears blurring your eyes, you catch the outlines of large open doors somewhere far ahead of a long corridor, and panic even more strongly engulfs the poor heart, ready to break ribs, tear flesh and fly out onto the dirty sticky floor under your feet.
— Please don't be silent… Just tell me what you need, and I'll...! — a salty-sour taste accompanies a sharp pain when you bite your tongue from a sharp blow on the cheek, forcing you to shut up instantly. The skin burns and throbs in the area of the red thumbprint that has appeared, and the lungs contract painfully, unable to take in air.
— Shut your mouth, I don't need anything from you.
«Don't need anything...?»
Are you a hostage? Is this man blackmailing someone close to you? No. He lets you see the place where he's holding you, doesn't even handcuff you, and doesn't bother to bring you at least water.
It's been so obvious all this time, but for some reason a terrifying realization is covering you with an icy shiver just now.
You'll only get out of here in a black bag.
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nc-vb · 1 month
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𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐰, 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧?
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originally a commission, repurposed for readervision! writing about the ladies is fun and i should really do it more often, mhm.
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notes -> pls i always forget she's 6'1", that's so frickin hot, my gawd
pairing -> quanxi x afab!time-traveler!reader*
warnings -> nsfw (18+, mdni), praise/nicknames used (*good girl), thigh riding, oral sex (reader receiving), orgasm denial, scissoring/tribbing; partial inebriation (alcohol consumption); light editing.
wc -> 4.5k
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The modes of transportation in this place are… dated.
So used to seeing the various Tesla models zipping about, or the suddenly extremely common Honda Civic models, you found yourself staring a little harder at the ones that lined the street. All too obviously, the dilapidated street signs around you indicated your new location being somewhere in China. Still, there’d been an aged familiarity about the place, about all of it, from the specific way the splits in the sidewalk crackle from one end to the other, to how the trees willow overtop of them like old, gnarled hands. The glow from the street lights are all equally dull, and do little to highlight the filth the asphalt roads hold. The houses, in their decaying, years left untouched glory, are still cookie cutter enough to say that it once might’ve been a place that people both lived and thrived in— if anything, they might just exist there now. The bare minimum for any species.
But then you look in the distance, past the caved-in roofs, past the loose, swaying electrical lines and through the smog, find the fluorescent lights of the city resting just outside the horizon of this dystopian suburbia, and find that you feel at home, your own having been bright just like that. 
You suppose that being at arms with a stranger in the middle of what you can only deem some kind of cacotopia must not be real. A dream or a hallucination— a nightmare, perhaps. The fact that you’ve never been to this place, this time or era, and yet, it’d been familiar. This partial hell scape with its scarred roads and patchwork housing, stuck in its darkened stasis of a temporary ceasefire? Wondering what kind of dream beasts this realm holds was unavoidable from the start, but at the very least, it still includes those in human form.
Your foe is formidable-- or, your predator, you should say. Armed thrice and practically naked in consideration for their lack of armour, wearing a thin shirt that exposes her midriff and tight black trousers, and with their one eye obscured by an eyepatch, they’re still as swift as a shadow when they charge forward, one blade extended, the other held in reverse against their forearm— usually a predictability. But they’re enough of a threat to you that you don’t bother to analyze much else any further.
If not for obeying modern physics, the stone at your feet would’ve split from the impact of your own harsh landing— without a weapon or defense of your own, you scamper out of the way of the woman’s sword, gasping at the close call. If anything, being in this strange place for so long, and being targeted by strange looking creatures and even stranger humans, has made you adept at avoiding harm.
You’re not entirely sure you can avoid it any further. You watch the attacker sheathe their defending sword and reach up toward their one exposed eye to— to… extract an arrow from within her skull, so easily as if it’d been normal to “store” it there.
“Don’t lose focus now,” they call — she calls, you finally learn, from your own language; she’d recognized it when you’d cursed at her earlier. A couple of obvious tonal sounds and inflections double down on you being somewhere in China. “I’ll be disappointed if you suddenly let me kill you, stranger.”
Slim, yet muscular. Long blonde hair. A gaze most distant, yet she still smiles, even in the middle of battle. Human? With that ability of hers, it’s unlikely; you’ve learned to differentiate that much, as short a time as you’ve spent here.
Amidst their game of cat and mouse, you can’t help but wonder if the area had been evacuated prior to Quanxi’s arrival, as if she’d been prepared to give chase, or even worse, as if she’d been prepared to fight. You don’t doubt the possibility of the woman having some kind of pull or authority in this time; as perhaps unprepared and bare as she appears, her skillset had quickly been proven. Being locked in at a coward’s stalemate for as long as you’d been, Can’t this end already?
“Please,” you pant, a hand poised in a pleading gesture. “Please stop.” The woman’s one visible eyebrow raises, her expression remaining placid. A moment later, she’s sheathing her blades.
“That’s fine with me,” she says, straightening up. “I’m pretty fond of this outfit and I’ve already scuffed the knees; it would be a shame if I tore anything else. You seem like… the civilized type, when you’re not running away. And if that’s the case, we should introduce ourselves.”
You give yours first, eager to catch your breath. The woman smiles.
“I am Quanxi. Now, tell me. The name of the Devil you’ve contracted with.”
Your expression hardens. “Devil?” you repeat. 
Quanxi does not doubt further the woman’s seemingly earnest confusion. She already looks like she’s not from the area, and certainly not necessarily a native from China, either. In fact, it’d been more like she’s stepped out of one of those futuristic, science fiction movies. Your entire existence did not belong here.
Your tired vision sweeps along the street before rising to stare at Quanxi. “Where is this place?”
Testing, “Do you mean this street? This… neighbourhood? Or this world?” You don’t answer, unable. The silence, accompanied with the difficult read on the foreigner’s partial expression, is an answer enough. “It’s called Earth.” 
“I know this is Earth.”
Quanxi’s lip quirks. “Then this place that you’re currently standing in, is in China. And this street, well… I’m not sure the name matters anymore. No one’s lived here in years.”
She watches you, a silence spread taut like a fishing line through the middle of your conversation as you ponder, before cutting it. 
“Listen. I’m glad you decided to stop running away,” your lip curls slightly at the curtness in her words, but you don't interrupt, “but since we’ve established that you’re not from the area, and since I don’t see a… spaceship… parked anywhere… you’re probably not an alien. But, you’ve also probably got nowhere to go, hm?”
“… that’s, unfortunately, correct,” you murmur, sighing. What a headache…
“And it doesn’t seem like you’re looking to cause any trouble. Right?”
“I’m kind of in some trouble of my own, if you haven’t noticed,” you point out.
“Fair enough. Then, I’ll do you a favour. If you’d be reasonable enough to not do something as stupid as try to murder me in my sleep, I’ll invite you into my home.”
Try? I could barely run away from you. 
“I’ll have to attend to some business in the morning outside the country, but, if you’re a good girl tonight, you’re welcome to stay there while I’m gone.” Your lips part to speak at the woman’s condescension, but by the absurdity of your situation, you find yourself unable to spit the words dancing behind your teeth back at her. Good girl?
“Do you need a physical invitation?” Quanxi says; you hadn’t realized she’d already begun to walk, and soundlessly trails after her. “Good.” Again? “I’ve parked several blocks north of here; it’s about a five minute walk if you’re fast about it.”
“Okay.” True to her estimation, once they’d picked up their pace, they found a sleek black automobile awaiting them only four blocks away. Compared to the older modeled cars you’ve passed, this one is at least twenty years ahead of their design.
Quanxi enters on her side before you can even open the passenger side door, and by the time you sit and shut the door behind you, the car has already belted to life, a soft rumbling heard from within its metal shell. A gear shifts, and they move.
The drive out of the dark neighbourhood where you first appeared, and into the glowing city you’d seen from afar is about three times as long as the walk had been. The luminance of the artificial light happens to be intense enough to make you squint so hard that your eyes become slits.
“Depending on how long you’re here for, you might end up getting used to it,” Quanxi says. You turn your head toward her. “Ah, well, I shouldn’t assume you don’t have these in your own home; apologies. Just, don’t stare at these ones directly. They’re definitely not up to code.”
You nod, glancing forward again.
“You aren’t very… chatty, are you,” Quanxi speculates, lowering one of her hands from the wheel to rest in her own lap.
“It’s… hard to think of something to talk about in my situation,” you say, wringing your wrists a little. “Small talk and idle conversations… is even harder.”
“You could always ask more questions.”
“I… can’t think of any.”
“Or ask if I know of a way to return you to your home.”
“And do you?”
“No. I can do a lot, but time travel?” Quanxi scoffs lightly. “Science fiction, for now. Maybe there’s a Devil out there that can do that. But, you could still have bothered to begin that conversation to see if I did.”
You pause. “Is this all a condition of me staying with you? Talking, asking questions…”
“Not at all. Simply makes for better company.”
You scoff, too, and fold your arms over your chest. “Aren’t you worried I’ll destroy your home while you’re gone? Or rob you?”
Quanxi chuckles. “Not at all. You might be lonely when I do, however. By how you greeted me earlier tonight, I should at least make sure my housekeeper doesn’t spook you away into, I don’t know, jumping out the window.”
“If I didn’t value my life, I wouldn’t have run away from you like I did. Why would I jump out the window…” The question hangs in the air, apparently a rhetorical quip.
The rest of the drive is completed in one-sided silence, Quanxi filling it with her own voice when she explains, unwarranted, the existence of Devils and what she’d meant when she’d asked you about a “contract”. It does make sense (and perhaps your interest in the subject did prove that you did have some curiosities), but you still had found yourself verily unwilling to engage in conversation, leaving your thoughts to race wildly beneath your skull.
In contrast to the surrounding buildings, Quanxi’s is not nearly as vibrant. The only lights come from the large fixed windows pressed tight between the dark brickwork; signs of life that neighbourhood from before had sorely been missing. Even the streets, despite the time, are flooded with chattering humans.
“We’re here, get out,” Quanxi says, putting the car into park and exiting it, herself. You join her on the sidewalk, where she’d just given a man a set of keys. In the corner of her vision, you watch him replace where Quanxi once sat, and drive off with her car, while the two of you enter the building.
“I’m on the penthouse level,” she tells you after pressing a button on the wall of the elevator. “It’s nothing fancy. Comfortable enough when I come home from an assignment, and for my—” Quanxi goes silent. You notice, but don’t press. The elevator chimes, announcing their arrival to the topmost level, and the doors open. “This way.”
There’s a keypad on the door, for which Quanxi types a particularly long code into before it beeps at them to enter. Whereas you take off your own boots and set them aside, Quanxi toes hers off and kicks them to the side, knocking yours over.
“A drink?” Quanxi offers.
“… water is fine.”
The penthouse is minimalist and simple, as its owner mentioned it would be. A simple living area full of couches and irregularly shaped chairs; a simple bedroom, raised up, across the room in a loft space. The bathroom and kitchen end up being the fanciest of the space, full of shining metal appliances and smooth surfaces, as white as the moon, itself.
There are but a few adornments and decorations, and you find that across the apartment, there are only a handful of photographs framed and sitting atop a long cabinet, two of which had been turned down— you recall Quanxi doing so as she’d entered ahead of you. Not one to pry — you know just as well as anyone what dredging up old memories does to a person — and with Quanxi busying herself in her kitchen, you cross over to them and quickly tip them up. Both have the woman pressed between four other girls, all with varyingly unexplainable appearances — why are her brains exposed? — but they all easily express their fondness for Quanxi.
“It’s like you’ve never been invited into someone’s home before,” Quanxi suddenly calls from around the corner. You flinch, and without making eye contact, set the frames back down with care. “It should go without me having to say the words “don’t touch anything unnecessary”.”
“Sorry,” you say.
Quanxi sighs, and extends her arm to hand the stranger a glass of clear liquid. “It’s fine. Just don’t touch them again. And try not to get curious enough that you want to ask about… them.”
You accept the glass, nodding, and take a generous gulp from it, immediately reeling.
“This isn’t water,” you say, swallowing thickly, her throat catching from the burn.
“It’s baijiu. Figured you could probably use some to relax while you’re here.” You instantly cough.
“Relax?”
“It’s not like you’ll be able to figure anything out tonight, not this late. And, not if you’re still wired into fight or flight mode. Drink this. If you’re hungry, there’s food in the fridge you can help yourself to. The bathroom is around the corner. Go and shower. I’ll grab you a change of clothing.”
Not that it’d been so severely important to, but you silently admit to her observations. Being sent stuck here and almost immediately thrust into one-sided combat against this strange woman, to being invited to her home for reprieve, has kept you tiptoeing on a jagged edge, teetering more to one side than the other. It’s discomforting. Unfamiliar.
You down the clear liquid in the glass before stalking into Quanxi’s bathroom, quick to strip yourself of your clothing before stepping into the shower. Beginning to scrub away the day’s grime from your body with a sudsy cloth, you realize you’ve yet to feel this calm thus far— must be the baijiu, you assume.
With the glass of the shower all fogged up from the steam, you don’t notice Quanxi standing in the doorway when you finally exit it. Unfocused, the nude woman jumps, the towel in her hand almost slipping out of her grasp.
“I’m beginning to think,” you start, huffing out a flustered breath, “that you’re the lonely one between us.”
“Perhaps I am.” The ice in her own glass clinks against it when she takes a sip, watching you start to pat yourself dry. “I won’t argue with you. I never thought I would feel like this, even after losing them. They were only Fiends, after all. Not entirely human.”
“... does one have to be “entirely human” for someone to love them?”
“… I forgot who I was saying this to,” Quanxi muses, mostly to herself. “You’re young, after all. Insightfulness comes easier to each new generation of life.”
“Something like that,” you halfheartedly confirm, dragging the towel down each of your legs. You sigh— avoiding certain conversations may not be as easy as you’d once thought with this woman, the involvement of alcohol perhaps making it even more of a difficult probability. “Where I’m from… in my time… in my version of Earth, we don’t have different species of humans. But to be loved by anyone, by anything, even by someone non-human, is a joy, and an honour. Don’t justify them being Fiends so you don’t have to grieve over them. And… just be glad you can remember everything about them.”
She smiles back, but it’s distant; spurious. You know full well what the look is for, and decide it’s unfair to call the woman the only lonely one between them, after all.
Quanxi pushes herself off the door’s frame, stumbling very slightly out of her awkward stance.
“I was only in here for ten minutes. How did you manage to get drunk so quickly?”
“Oh, I’m not drunk,” Quanxi swears. “This is my first glass… and I’m a bit of a heavyweight. I just figure I should share some of my vulnerability with you since you’re naked in my home right now. Seems like a fair trade to me.”
You look up at her, having wrapped your head in the towel, and around the washroom.
“Your clothes. Right. I forgot to bring them in. They’re out here.”
“Could you go and grab them?”
“You’re coming back out here anyway, right? Just come and change out here.”
Your eyes narrow. The woman’s already seen her as nude as the day she’d been born, and from her own words, she now lives alone, the existence of those four girls in the photos seemingly otherwise erased from the apartment save for those photos. Being on the penthouse level on one of the tallest buildings around, it’d be unlikely for any of the neighbouring buildings to see—
“You’re overthinking it,” Quanxi calls out. “Is that something you do when you drink alcohol?”
Your attempt at sliding past her in the doorway fails, the taller of the two having lifted her arm to stop you.
“Is it?”
You sigh. Quanxi’s lip lifts into a small smile, and she drops her arm to let you pass and enter the kitchen.
“Is this where you assert yourself on me, and I lower myself into showing you my “gratitude”?” You slip on the folded burgundy tee from the counter, mentally cursing at the woman for supplying you with such a useless piece of fabric, the offending material barely reaching your navel; you shiver. “I’ve read enough fiction in my lifetime to recognize this cliché.”
“Then you must’ve read a crazy amount of sapphic erotica throughout your journey across the stars.” You shake your head and reach for the pants, ignoring Quanxi’s presence at your side. “No,” she answers, “though, I’m glad my intentions go without me having to say anything. A harmless, wordless invitation to share in a little bit of skinship with me. I won’t force you into it, but…”
In still being bare from the hips down, Quanxi dares to smooth a hand across your waist that curls an arm around your middle, and you freeze, your cool skin quick to grow warm under her touch.
“Quanxi—””It’s not lowering yourself to enjoy yourself,” she muses, right next to your ear. You blame your immodesty for the chill that sweeps down your spine. “Let me take your mind out of the stars for the night.”
It’s the alcohol. You’re drunk, too. That’s the only reason. Trying to rationalize your acceptance of the situation with false realities only embarrasses you further— you aren’t drunk. You can’t even call yourself slightly inebriated, not yet. 
Then perhaps it’s your subconscious telling you to cave to Quanxi’s suggestion. To give into the strange offer of reprieve this Earth finds itself willing to give to you.
Her hands travel, soft and featherlight, across your now scalding flesh, and beneath the waistband of the sweats she’d intended on giving you. Loosening them from around your hips, she pushes them down until they slip around your ankles, and with a hand poised at the toned sculpt of her abdomen, she presses you into leaning against the counter behind you.
“Just stand there and stay pretty for me.”
Quanxi doesn’t waste another moment; not particularly keen to stop her, you lean into the hand that cups your jaw, allows her to fit her lips between yours, tries to remember the last time you’d ever kissed or had ever been kissed, and fails. With no other thoughts to keep you tethered to creating distractions for yourself, you keen forward and shift your weight onto a single foot. A small laugh huffs against your lips.
“You are enjoying yourself, aren’t you,” she murmurs. You’re about to argue the opposite, that you’d only been acting agreeable for their best interest, and open your mouth; ever the opportunist, Quanxi is quick to curl her tongue to sweep along the inside of your lips before you get the chance to utter a single word. You flinch, but your own hand stays holding Quanxi’s hips against your own.
Her thighs are thick, discovering them to be more muscular than you’d first presumed when one of them press between your own and shift upward. You gasp, a soft sound, when the coarse material of Quanxi’s denim begins sliding back and forth along your bare clit; you tremble, and grips her sides just a little firmer.
“Ah, see? You don’t have to use your words to show it.”
A hand slips around to hold your neck, Quanxi pulling her mouth hard against yours, and you moan, your breaths shared with each tilt of their head and each swirl of their tongues around the other dense, purposeful. Was it the alcohol making your mind fuzzier? Making your judgment clouded? You hadn’t yearned for something this hard in much too long a time, though it did go without saying— yes, I’m enjoying myself.
You shiver at the sudden soft pecks and harsher licks at the curve of your neck, and Quanxi grinds your crotch against her bouncing thigh a little more insistently when you’d begun to shudder.
“You’re close, right? So soon?” Reluctantly, you find yourself nodding. Quanxi hums. “Not here.” She lowers her knee almost too abruptly, and releases. Your head snaps her way, frowning.
“This isn’t how I want you to come,” she explains, decidedly tugging down her own pants and kicking them away. “Too simple.”
“Why did you stop?”
“It’s only for a moment,” Quanxi assures you. She takes one of your hands and begins pulling you toward the staircase to the loft, quick to guide you along to sitting at the edge of her plush bedding. “Don’t look so frustrated, hm?”
You scoff, but it’s choked, heart still racing from your formerly impending, now lost, orgasm.
“More condescending words of yours,” you mutter, “just like earlier.”
“Condescending words from earlier…” Quanxi pauses. “Do you mean when I called you a “good girl”?”
“Yes. It was patronizing.”
“And… if I were to call you a good girl now?” Quanxi releases her hold around your wrist and, before you can pull them back (whether you were going to or not), fits her fingers through both of yours and kneels between your legs, spreading them further apart with her shoulders. Your entire body flinches, and your arms both jerk upwards with nowhere to go. “Is that still me being condescending? Or…” Quanxi tilts her head forward once more, and licks a stripe upward against your quiver. “… maybe it’s patronizing now?”
“Y-You’ve… well surpassed the definition of both of those words,” you groan.
“Maybe.” Quanxi’s tongue curls, catching on the hood of your clit. You gasp. “But look at you, my little time-traveling friend, behaving so well for me. I think this deserves a little bit of praise; a small reward.”
“Stop talking about it and give it to me, then.”
Quanxi doesn’t speak again, having suddenly busied herself with the wet kisses she supplied to your cunt. Your eyes fly upward to meet hers, tongue flicking so frustratingly calculated between your folds. You stir, arms twitching impatiently in her hold with nowhere to go— until she releases them again. Unable to help herself, you lurch forward, one hand pressing the woman between your thighs deeper into you, the other clawing at the sheets beneath you. When Quanxi goes to mumble something, not bothering to remove her tongue from against you, you send a hazy glare her way.
“Don’t talk, j-just—!” Quanxi’s grip shifts, instead to wind her arms around your thighs when your squirming becomes too uncontrolled. You cry out, a sharp noise that ends up startling you back into biting down on your own lip, as Quanxi suckles on your swollen bud. It’s impossible to stop her, to want to stop her; your hold on her head lessens, though it’s only when your legs begin to tremble in their attempt to fold shut, and when your voice catches in her throat that Quanxi finally pulls away, lips and chin glistening under the moonlight and hair slightly disheveled, and you groan again, a noise that grows progressively louder and more frustrated as the blonde rises back onto her feet.
“I never specified if you’d be the only one getting rewarded,” Quanxi points out, chuckling. “Keep your legs open.”
You manage a frown, but still hold your thighs apart for Quanxi to straddle you. Your hips buck, feeling the sudden pressure, the sudden heat and slick press against her; Quanxi doesn’t waste another moment, having been denying even herself the pleasure she’d now twice ripped away from you— punishment for the frustratingly short answers you’d provided throughout the evening.
Hands falling next to your head to grip the blanket, she rocks forward, lower back instinctively arching upon the friction finally reaching her— Quanxi moans, and you, impatient and shuddering once more, reach behind Quanxi to grab at her ass to pull her tighter into you.
“So eager,” Quanxi groans. Jerkily, she forces your shirt up over your breasts, nipples pert from your arousal, and dips her head down to wrap her lips around one, tongue swirling.
“Quanxi, I—” she pops away, gasping, hips still gyrating and pelvis grinding into yours with such a desperate fervour; she suddenly swivels herself and takes hold of your leg from under her knee, bringing it upwards. “Quanxi—”
“Go on, then,” Quanxi pants. Both mouths dripping, she takes her tongue and drags it up your calf. “Come for me, my little time-traveler.”
You choke on your breath, and your hands seize for Quanxi to hold her in position while you suddenly flip her around, grinding down on her, instead. Teeth gritted, Quanxi pulls and tugs at the sheets, moaning with the sweet relief of her own orgasm, and you tremble, crying out soft and low from the washing over of — finally, finally — your own pleasure.
Spent, you huff at the one-eyed woman when you lower herself down fully onto her pelvis. “Don’t… call me that ever again.”
Quanxi’s laugh is one of disbelief, and has you reddening above her.
“I was supposed to have an early night… I can always sleep on the plane.”
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© nc-vb 2024 please don’t repost! reblogs & comments are always appreciated.
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whalyrae · 1 year
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THE OLD GUARD CHAPTER 1
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"We don’t get a say on how it ends, we never have. But we can control how we live."
Summary : You are a powerful witch, cursed and hurt through ages. Owner of your esoteric shop, you were resigned to live this lonely life when the powerful magic of soulmates and fate came to you.
Pairing : poly BTS x reader (she/her)
Genre : soulmate au, demons bts au, witch y/n au, fluff, angst, eventual smut, polyamory relationships
Status : In process
Word Count : 2.8k
Warnings : eventual smut, angst, mention of depression, death, suicide, past trauma, violence, blood, past (sexual) abuse, past torture, PTSD, scars, self harm
A/N : finally the courage to post this ! Hope y'all will enjoy it  🥺  ps : sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language !  💜
Masterlist | ao3 | wattpad
Chapter 2
☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ 
People say that soulmates are the ones who make life come to life. They are muses. Soulmates will naturally make you feel seen, heard, understood, valued, supported & loved. Soulmates will bring out your inner child, be open with you & give you best friend vibes. They'll heal, grow & evolve with you–not only in this lifetime but in every dimension.
At first, when she met him, she agreed with all of these. But in the end… These numerous lives she lived through decades and centuries taught her that love was never enough.
She was… well, kinda immortal. Of course, immortality doesn’t exist. Every life ends one day. Even vampires are not immortal. 
But her? She couldn’t die. She was killed more than once, she even tried to end her own life. Too many times. And she failed. All attempts were unsuccessful. She was cursed. A damn curse who keeps her from dying. She never knew why it happened or how it happened. 
She stopped aging around 25. Several centuries later, here she is. It’s been ten years since her arrival in South Korea. First in Busan, she moved to Daegu, Gimpo, and finally Seoul, where she lives now. 
She was finally able to open this esoteric shop she had been dreaming of for a few decades already. She found the perfect spot, in a small alley, near a cute coffee shop. Called "The Dreamcatcher " it was run by other witches, like her. Gahyeon, one of the owners, became a close friend.
Quickly, she befriended Gahyeon's mates and co-owner, Minji and Siyeon, both witches too. The four others, Bora, Yoohyeon, Handong, and Yubin worked there too as bartenders and pastry chefs. But unlike Gahyeon and the first three women, they were demons. 
It wasn’t uncommon for witches, demons, and other creatures to be soulmates or partners. It was also common to see four, five, or even eight soulmates together. Polyamory was almost ordinary for non-humans. 
These seven girls became her closest friends. They even helped her sometimes, with new books' arrival, or when she needed help rearranging some herbs and crystals. Gahyeon and Handong were the ones who visited her the most, always bringing her a strawberry cake, her favorite pastry, or a coffee in the morning. They often hang out together, mostly in her house which was just upstairs from her shop. 
Her esoteric shop, called "The Magic Shop ", quickly became popular among creatures and some humans. Her hours of service were different from usual shops. She was closing later in the evening in summer, and early in the morning in winter, to allow vampires who feared the sunlight to come. 
Also, people liked her. She was always kind and generous. An adorable little ray of sunshine, even though she was one of the most ancient witches still alive. Her knowledge of the magical world, history, art, literature, and magic was immense due to her age. She always gave perfect advice, always guided her clients in the right way and she always took good care of them. 
Yeah… she was not alone anymore, right? 
It was a lie. She was wearing a mask every day. Of course, her kindness wasn’t faked. She genuinely loved helping people. But despite this, even with all those warm smiles she gave to her clients and friends, she was deeply blessed and hurt by her past, Lonely, suffering from many wounds and scars that weren’t healed, and will probably never be. 
Too many times, the girls tried and still try to convince her to meet people who they think could be her potential soulmate. But she always refused. Love and soul mates have almost always been a taboo subject for her. She never wanted to be with anyone. And none of her friends knew that she had already found her soulmate. She even knew she had seven. She never told them about that. She never talked about him. The first of the seven soulmates she had that she met, centuries ago. The only one by the way. This person she lost because she was too weak, too stupid, and too young. And she never saw him again. She was sure she would never see him again. 
Or at least, that’s what she thought. No matter what, soulmates always end up together.
That day began like others. Gahyeon came to see her in the morning, with a caramel macchiato and a croissant. 
“Unnie! Don’t forget to eat! If you need help, you know where we are !”
She thanked her friend with a nod and a smile, already immersed in her new book. She just finished a herbology book last night, and now wanted to change and read a novel. It was a romance. She didn’t even remember she had Lisa Kleypas's books but well, It Happened in Autumn was on her personal bookshelf. 
She took a sip of the coffee, almost burning her tongue at the warmness of the liquid, making her wince a little. She then took a bite of the croissant, chewing slowly while rereading the same passage for the third time. 
She knew why these words were touching her so much
It may be time to take a break. 
“Is the book so bad to make you sigh like that ?” 
That sudden voice startled her. First, because she has yet to hear the new customer enter her store. Second, because his voice was… deep, soft, comforting, making her body shiver. She looked up at him, and time seemed to stand still for a few seconds. 
Her eyes widened. Her breath stopped when she saw his face, felt his presence, and saw his gaze filled with an emotion that she only figured out much later. Because unlike her, when his eyes landed on her, he immediately understood. He knew who she was, and who she would be for him. And he never regretted it.   
Her body, her mind, everything reacted viscerally at his presence. Even he seemed surprised, but he was the first one to come to his senses. 
He gave her a smile, a smile so sweet, so tender, that her heart swelled with a warmth she hadn’t felt since… something like an eternity. 
“Yeah… I mean, no !” she tried to act as normal as possible, smiling shyly “It’s just… a passage, nothing special !”
“What is it? It Would be awful to make you frown like that !” he asks gently, his grin showing small dimples she wanted to kiss suddenly. 
“It’s… it’s not important! You’re the customer, after all, I’m sorry! What can I do for you, Sir ?” 
This name on her lips, with this voice. Damn it. Namjoon could become addicted to it so soon… And they only just met each other. Did she feel the same things as him? 
When he first came here, it was just curiosity. One of his friends recommended this new place, which opened a few months ago. According to this person, it was held by a powerful witch, as kind and sweet as beautiful. That's not what caught his attention at first. It was mainly because there were no specialized esoteric shops for demons like him and his partners. 
But as soon as he set foot in the store, everything changed. A sweet smell came to tickle his nose. Her smell. A scent of vanilla. He recognized it immediately. This scent he had been waiting for since he was born. The scent of this special person he and his sixth other mates had been waiting for so long. This person they need in their life to be fully completed. 
He looked up, searching for her, and there she was. In front of him, only a few feet away. 
She was the most beautiful person he ever met. And he was an old demon. He met plenty of humans, witches, and other creatures in his long life. 
Perched on her chair, her nose in her book that seemed to both disturb and hurt her for some reason he didn’t know and didn’t like at all. She wasn't supposed to have that pain on her pretty face. She was supposed to be happy. That’s all she deserved and he was willing to move and destroy mountains to make that happen. 
He almost let out a grunt when he saw her burn her tongue with her coffee. So beautiful and so clumsy. He already knew Jin and Yoongi would be possessive and protective over her. 
“I have time,” he replied, his smile didn’t want to disappear, “I’m not a big fan of Kleypas, but I read a few of her books.” 
“Me neither to be honest” she answered with a nervous laugh “but I found it in my bookshelf and… I was curious, there, this part.” 
She was about to give him the book, but she saw him rubbing the back of his head. 
“I have a terrible sight and forgot to take my glasses, can you read it to me ?”
Actually… he had them. He never left without them. But he wanted to hear her voice just a little bit more.  
She looked at him a little surprised, but let out a small laugh. 
Oh. 
Oh, that laugh. Namjoon’s heart almost dropped.
That simple noise sounded like a sweet song in his ears and made his heart almost skip a beat. That was the cutest sound he ever heard. Even Jungkook’s moans couldn’t compete with that. Namjoon was sure that the maknae would not be mad at this but would agree with him. 
She took a glance at him. Why should he be so… so attractive? Why did she have that feeling of comfort and trust? She didn’t even know his name. 
Oh, you already know why, sweet girl, he’s one of them, her inner voice whispered to her, but she quickly pushed it away. 
It was impossible. It couldn’t be that. She didn’t even want to think about this word. 
She inhaled deeply. With the book in her hands, she finally started to read the small lines, ignoring the aching in her heart : 
“There is nothing on earth more beautiful to me than your smile...no sound sweeter than your laughter...no pleasure greater than holding you in my arms. I realized today that I could never live without you, stubborn little hellion that you are. In this life and the next, you’re my only hope of happiness. Tell me, Lillian, dearest love...how can you have reached so far inside my heart ?”
She had to pinch her lips together to hold back her tears. These words, these phrases. They brought back memories, happy memories that time made painful. Namjoon saw her reaction and had to restrain himself from hugging her, wrapping her in his arms to protect her. What happened to her for being hurt by such beautiful words? Maybe she fell in love with a person who made her suffer. He was ready to cross the world and the underworld to find them and make them suffer. 
“I… I’m just not a fan of romance, too lovey-dovey for me, you know ?” she told him after a few seconds with a small laugh and shook her head, closing the book. “Ah, forget that, may I help you? Were you searching for something in particular ?” 
She tried her best to mask all her negative feelings and the huge attraction she felt for him. He was her client, she had to stay professional. Namjoon understood it. He wasn’t worried. Now that he knew who she was and where she worked, he had plenty of time to get to know her, to tell others who she was, to tell them about her. 
How he couldn’t wait for them all to be together! He would have loved to take her with him today, to have her meet her other mates, but he felt that something was making her reluctant and distant about soulmates' bond and everything related to it. A deep and still painful wound. He needed to be patient and make sure they all would be. 
He already knew that Jungkook, Jimin, and Taehyung would be the hardest ones to contain. They were only young demons… only a few decades old. Still babies, always in the need to be stuck together or to one of the elders.  
“Is everything okay, sir ?” She asked after a few seconds without any response from the man, worried. 
“Yes… I mean, ahem. Yeah! Sure, I’m sorry.” He cleared his throat. 
“I came here out of curiosity, and heard about your place from a friend, Bangchan.”
“Oh, Chris! Sure I know him! His boyfriend Félix comes here pretty often, he’s a good friend !” She agreed with a smile. “So I assume you’re not a human too, maybe a vampire, like him ?”
“I’m a demon.” He answered with a smirk.  
He had to be a demon. His (her) mates should be demons, too. Maybe he was with them? Maybe Namjoon has found all of his (their) other mates? 
“Oh, I’m Kim Namjoon by the way, nice to meet you.” He told her. His smile didn’t want to disappear.
“Y/n, nice to meet you too, Namjoon.”
She hesitated when he offered her his hand, but took it. The small electric shocks she felt when their skins brushed together made her stop breathing again for a few seconds. She felt something inexplicable, specific to this particular bond, that she hadn’t felt since… for an eternity. She needed more, she wanted to feel more. She wanted him. She needed him. 
Fuck, his hand was so big compared to hers. Long and pretty fingers fitting with hers perfectly… 
This wasn’t good at all. 
“Ah, this static electricity,” she muttered, laughing nervously, trying to refrain from these feelings inside her. “Hum… if you have any questions about magic, herbs, books, you know where I am…!”
“Yeah… yeah I know where you are… I wouldn't hesitate, thank you, y/n.”
Namjoon definitely knew that something was wrong. Something that made her suffer deeply and that blocked her from wanting and accepting the bond between her, him, and their six other soulmates. And he would do anything to find it out, to help her and finally get them all together. 
°°°
Later that day, after the closure of her shop, once she's finally at home, showered and wearing her plaid, she sends a text to Gahyeon. 
“Sorry to disturb you now Hyeonie but… can you come, please ?”
She didn’t need to wait for an answer. She wasn't the type of person to send the first message, even more to ask for help. 
🦊: Unnie? 
🦊: Is everything okay? 
🦊: Did something happen?
🦊: Wait! No need to answer, I’m coming with food! 
🦊: Handong is coming too!
Seeing her friend so concerned warmed her heart. Gahyeon was a blessing, like all the girls. She didn’t want to bother them, but she didn’t know what to do anymore, and loneliness was the last thing she could bear tonight,
It didn't take very long for her two friends to arrive at her house. Gahyeon immediately came to sit next to her on the sofa, Handong was behind her, a bag with food in her hands. She offered her a sweet smile, although she was also worried, as was Gahyeon who took her hands in hers. 
“Tell us now! Have you met a rude customer? A weirdo tried to do something to you ?”
“No, not at all, Nothing bad happened, it's just… I met someone and…” 
She made a pause and took a deep breath. Gahyeon and Handong looked at each other, suddenly concerned. She never called them for something like that. It was the first time she called them at almost midnight. 
So it was quickly that they connected the dots. 
“Wait, you mean you met one of your…”
“Don’t…” she began, her voice shaking, “Handong please, not this word…”
She squeezed Gahyeon's hand, holding back her tears as she remembered the events earlier this morning. 
"He…” she began, hesitating, “he already met them, all of them, I felt it. I’m the last one and… it means,” she took a deep breath, but tears rolled down her cheeks without her controlling it, “it means that he’s with them…” 
Gahyeon took her in her arms when she burst into tears. She couldn't hold back her emotions. She cried. She couldn’t stop even if she tried. Her heart hurt so much. All these years, these centuries of loneliness and suffering...
That guy she met today, Namjoon. He was one of her soulmates. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t deny it. He felt it too, she was sure about that. But no… she couldn’t… she didn’t want to live that again. And that’s why she broke down in Gahyeon’s arms. Because even if she met her soulmates, and could be with all of them, she would not and could not risk going through that again. 
Not after what happened centuries ago, when she met her first soulmate, how she messed up, and how she lost him at a point where he forgot about who she was. 
“Jinnie…” she whispered between two painful sobs, “Jin is with them…” 
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goratrix-betrayed · 9 months
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Living as a Fictive: How to Find, Create, and Broaden Your Identity, With and Without Canon
Here is the script of my Othercon 2023 panel. The paragraph I wrote to describe it is as follows:
A lecture followed by questions and discussion about being a fictive trying to find and expand your identity. How to connect with not only your source, but the world around you, and how to work on becoming who and what you want to be without canon's constraints.
Introduction
Greetings, assembled people, creatures, and beings of Othercon. Welcome. As you likely know, this is a panel about living as a fictive, and forming an identity around, or perhaps despite, that. I welcome anyone to listen, however, as Othercon is a place to not only learn about yourself, but to learn about others and to interact with the community. Regardless, I ask that you hold your questions until the end, at which point there will be a dedicated section of time for them. I cannot answer questions effectively during the panel, as I am both easily distracted and long-winded, which is a recipe for going overtime and off-script.
A note on terminology before we begin: I am aware that there are multiple words that mean the same or similar things to the word “fictive.” For simplicity’s sake, I will just be saying “fictive” for the duration of this panel, as that is my lived experience and the word I feel most comfortable using. Additionally, I may refer to other members of a system as “headmates”--again, I am aware that there are many words for this, but I will generally use this one as it is fairly widespread and I use it for my own system. If, during the Q&A, you have a different word you would rather I use for your system members when referring to them, you need only ask, and I will adjust my language accordingly. For now, however, “headmate” is the word I will be moving forward with.
That aside, welcome. A brief introduction: my name is Goratrix. I am a vampire, a fictive from the tabletop role-playing game Vampire: the Masquerade. I am one of  many canon characters—characters pre-created for game masters to use in the games they run for their players as they see fit, with some pre-written lore to help establish both the character and the setting. When it comes to this world, I have been here since August of 2021, coming into existence during Othercon itself, in the midst of a panel that convinced my system that it would not be so bad to have me around. (Thank you very much to Pale, who ran the panel.) Last year, during Othercon 2022, I ran a panel about living with having a “problematic” fiction-based identity—the script and recording for that are both available for your perusal if you would like. And, if you are wondering: yes, I always talk like this. You get used to it. 
The Why of Identity-Building
Now, the topic at hand: being a fictive can be a confusing and lonely thing. We have much in common with fictionkind, but there is a crucial difference: while someone who is fictionkind has an identity and life outside of that fiction-based identity, in the very beginning, fictives typically do not. For most of us, the experience is rather like being plucked from your life and placed into the head of someone else—in my case, an at-the-time college student—with no understanding or awareness of where you are, what is going on, why, or, the worst question of all, what you are supposed to do now.
Take a breath, let it out slowly. We will figure this out together. It is a journey, yes, but it is uniquely yours, and the advantage to that is that it’s quite difficult to get wrong.
In short, my recommendation is this: understand yourself in the context of either canon or canon-divergent noemata, grow as comfortable as you can with that, and then expand outwards. Find or forge new aspects to your identity, find new interests and hobbies, participate in things you never would or could have back in-source. Engagement with the outside world is key to not feeling lost. If you lock yourself up in the identity that has been handed to you, if you insist upon remaining stagnant, as you were when you formed, you are, more often than not, setting yourself up to be miserable. This is not an accusation: I, and many of my headmates, attempted the same thing, and only began to enjoy ourselves once we started reaching out and opening up to the world and people around us.
It’s infuriating to realize that it works, but it really does.
It is, ultimately, your choice whether or not you want to grow beyond what has been set out for you, beyond what you are and were back in-source. The rest of this panel will be moving forward with the assumption that you are choosing to do so, or at least, that you are willing to listen to how that might be done while considering it yourself. Personally, I do not see much harm in personal growth and development, even if it is “out of character” or outside the bounds of what others would consider to be “canon you.” You are wholly fictional no longer, and should not let the bounds of fiction confine you. Do not let yourself be trapped by others’ expectations of you: if they want to interact with a wholly canon-compliant version of you, they should try roleplaying. You owe no one any part of your identity, and anyone who tries to box you in should be ashamed.
By all means, use canon, or your noemata—your memories—as an anchor if you so desire. Many fictives find this comforting. It is your point of origination, your source, where you are from: it is perfectly reasonable that you would want to keep that as a core part of you. I am not suggesting casting off canon unless that is what you want to do, and that is your choice. If you choose to do so, I would advise doing so slowly, in pace with you picking up other aspects of your identity if you feel yourself lacking, for fear of leaving yourself so empty that you do not know what to latch onto. Once again, however, that is your choice: I trust that you will do what you think is best.
Now, identity-building when you have found yourself in a strange world, sharing a head with strange people, can be quite difficult, especially if you have no aspects of identity outside of your source. I have talked about why you may want to grow beyond that, become something else or more. We now reach the how.
Step One: In Context
Older and more established fictives may be able to skip this step, as chances are, you have been doing it already. Many newer fictives also embark on this part of the journey, but not all, so I will walk you through it. The first step of broadening your identity, unless you are choosing to cast off your source completely and immediately, is to do so in context of your source, whether that be canon or your version of it. Doing this will help you flesh yourself out, if you feel it is needed—ask anyone with a fiction-based identity, and most will tell you that engaging with source is an excellent way to connect to the identity. You may remember pieces of your history, things you like, skills you had or may even still have—there is often a wealth of identity to be drawn from your source if you go digging. This may not work for everyone, but it does for many, so I believe it is usually worth a shot. At the very least, doing this digging and engaging with your source lets you get used to the idea and process of identity broadening and exploration in a safer, more comfortable way—your source generally will feel less like a frontier and more like dipping your toes back into the pool.
My first recommendation of this is just to engage with your source—watch it, read it, play it, whatever lets you interact. Most of all, I recommend writing about it. Anything you remember directly—any noemata you have—even things you “just know” without a direct memory. Write about your feelings on it, the people in it, the things you did and the events you witnessed. Writing helps you work through your feelings on a topic in a way that lets you reference them again later. Maybe you turn it into a post for your blog or website, maybe it becomes an essay, maybe it is simply a journal entry for you and you alone. Whatever you decide, I highly encourage that you engage with, or at least think about, your source, and write about it.
Personally, I worked out many of my apparent contradictions and issues with myself by simply going, step-by-step, through the things that bothered me. My early writings on the Fictionkind Dreamwidth detail the atrocities I committed in-source and why, what on Earth my reasoning was. If I had not done this, I do not know if I would have ever reconciled what I was supposed to be with who I was, and who I had to become to live with myself once I had exited the context of the harsh and cruel world I came from. Take your time with this; do not rush. You are not in a race. The time will pass regardless, so you might as well let it pass pleasantly and with little pressure.
My next recommendation is to seek out noemata in general. For those unfamiliar with the word: noemata, singular noema, describes any kind of source memory you may have, whether that be a specific moment, a scene, a smell, a sense, or ‘just knowing’ a fact without any moments or instances to back it up. The two best ways to do this that I know of are to engage with canon (to prompt your mind to “remember” what it sees, although this can produce false memories) or to do as many (usually mundane) things as you can in the hopes that you will trip a memory trigger. Neither method is perfect, and there are other tips for getting and finding noemata out there—if anyone listening has resources for that, please, feel free to link them in the chat.
Finally, I would recommend reaching out to and talking to sourcemates, whether or not they share your exact canon. I know many fictives are not comfortable with sourcemates, nevermind doubles, but if you are, I cannot stress enough how much better you can feel after talking to them if you get along. I do not know where I would be today without my boyfriend Chaiya in the Treehouse system—in our shared early days of being fictives, that summer and autumn of 2021, we were lost and untethered, and latched onto each other in an attempt to anchor ourselves. We are much stronger for having had each other, and are extremely close, and I do not see that ever fading. Chaiya helped me work through my issues with my identity, smooth out the wrinkles and accept who I am over who I “should be,” and vice versa. Without Chaiya, I doubt I would have ever engaged with the alterhuman community directly, so my thanks goes out to him—without him, this panel would not exist!
Sourcemates are extremely helpful because they understand. Many of them know the context of the world, so you do not have to provide it. They know what happened, who everyone is—they understand why you may feel the way you do about things, why topics might be complicated, et cetera. They are less likely to have to ask basic questions, and together, you may discover things about yourselves and each other. Doubles—fictives of the same character—are even more understanding in many ways, although I understand the possible distress of meeting one. I never have, I doubt I ever will—my friends and I are not terribly popular characters in the grand scheme of Vampire: the Masquerade or the broader World of Darkness—but my head- and sourcemate Sascha Vykos has. She is also in the Treehouse system and goes by the name Ashena, separating herself somewhat from the name of Sascha Vykos—but, still, she and Sascha are the same in many ways. They understand each other implicitly, often without ever having to say anything on a topic other than to bring it up, and they understand. There is a level of identity-diving and forming that can be reached only by someone who understands you wholly and completely, and a similar double is a good resource for that, if you can find one and if you are comfortable with it. If you cannot or are not: that’s fine. It is by no means a requirement, simply a recommendation. 
Step Two: Things to Do
Beyond engaging with your source material, to expand your identity, you will need to engage in other activities. Form an interest in something, get a hobby, give yourself some enrichment—or, in a more joking manner, roll a pumpkin full of meat around your enclosure. Now, while meat pumpkins may be an appropriate form of engagement for some more inhuman fictives, for the rest of us, we would get bored quite quickly, and need to find other activities to occupy us.
Why do activities? Why have an interest? Well, as a living (at least at the moment) and thinking creature, you need something to think about. And thinking about yourself and your source will only last you so long; eventually, the thoughts will become mundane and well-tread to you, and to maintain a level of activity and happiness, you will need something to engage your mind and that thing is typically going to be something you enjoy, often an activity. The idea is to give you something that you want to front or co-front to do or be present for, so that you are around in order to experience the world, form likes and dislikes, and grow as a person. This is the next step, and you can take it as quickly or as slowly as you’d like.
Expose yourself to activities, shows, songs, anything you’d like at a speed that is comfortable to you. A good starting point is to go along with what a headmate is doing and try to get into their interests, and if it doesn’t work out, that’s fine. There is no harm in trying something only to decide that it is not for you. A headmate’s activity or interest is fairly safe since, chances are, the system was going to be doing that regardless, and all you are spending is your own engagement time, which you wanted to be doing anyway.
Another good starting point is anything that you were interested in back in-source, especially if it still speaks to you. If you liked to read novels, listen to a type of music, create a certain kind of art—that might still be a good outlet for you, and you may still enjoy it. You might not. Key to this is remembering that it is okay if you don’t still like something—people grow and change over time, and not all interests last forever. Perhaps they will return in the future. When it comes to skills you used to have, however, beware: many fictives lose their skills in the transfer over to the system and need to re-develop them, and therefore, engaging with old skill-based interests may be incredibly frustrating, especially at first, as you may be back at beginner level despite knowing that you used to be better. I have had this experience with many of my own skills, particularly language learning—be kind to yourself, and remind yourself that, physically, you have a different brain than you once did (if you had one at all—robots or spirits may have had some other analog) and it may not know how to do what your old one did. You will need to teach it anew—and for some, that is a worthwhile endeavor, and for others, it is too painful and frustrating. Do what feels best to you, not what stresses you out.
On the flip side of that, do not limit yourself to hobbies or interests that “match” or “make sense” for who your source set you out to be—if something intrigues you, take a look. Pick it up, give it a try. There is no right and wrong when it comes to things you like or enjoy—if you like it, you like it! Do not let what others might think of you or your “image” get in the way of enjoying something genuinely. This is for you, no one else.
That being said, I encourage you to seek out community. Make friends. Find more reasons to front and to care about the world you have found yourself in. Perhaps it is similar to the one you come from, or perhaps it is very different—but you are here now, and I highly recommend that you try to make the most of it. I have found that friends, even just a few, make everything worth it, and that they make my darker days much easier to bear, as well as making my better days even more enjoyable than they already were.
As for you, nonhuman fictives, do not fear, I have not forgotten you. While you can pick up the same interests and hobbies as your human- and human-adjacent headmates just fine in most cases, activities not suited to your species might not interest you. My recommendation is to look for alterhuman lists and guides of suggested activities for your species or a similar one—the otherkin and therian communities are extremely good at this, and just posting in a community asking for suggestions is likely to get you quite a few. And, if all else fails, go back to square one: meat pumpkin.
Now, I must confess that my recommendations for activities and engaging in yourself and the world around you focus almost entirely on fronting or co-fronting and engaging with the outside world. Some systems, I know, have very detailed and rich innerworlds, where headmates can perform tasks, do activities, and otherwise lead complete, complex, and fulfilling lives. If this can substitute for you and make you feel fulfilled, I see no reason to limit yourself to engaging strictly with the world outside of your own mind—but I am not knowledgeable on this topic, as my own system’s innerworld is rudimentary at best, a simulation designed to let us visualize our existence rather than an actual complex and detailed place. When it comes to this, I will have to leave it in the hands of systems who experience it.
Step Three: Becoming
This is the most challenging step by far, and for many, it is not necessary. Perhaps you find yourself happy with your identity—perhaps you are not perfect, but no one is, and you just want to continue to live your life, experience the world, and grow and change “as you will,” letting yourself be shaped by your experiences like most people do. Fantastic! That is my recommended approach in most cases, and I encourage you to continue on that path. Keep experiencing, keep growing, keep talking with people, picking up interests, doing activities, and making things. Write, love, live, and have fun.
But for some, particularly those with more “problematic” source material, that may not be enough. In some cases, a fictive, usually of a villain, will form, and either immediately or eventually realize that they do not want to be who they are. They do not want to keep these personality traits, they cannot stand the things they have done—or perhaps they are simply sick of it, and wish to change themselves.
For those of you in this camp: first, my condolences. I have been in and out of this mindset, and have several headmates that exist within it. This is a long, difficult process, and as frustrating and counterproductive as it is to hear, you cannot get through this if the core of your being is self-hatred. You must be willing to accept or forgive yourself for being that way, or for doing what you did. You must be willing to accept that there is no going back now, only moving forward, and accept that you can only change the future, not the past.
However, also remember that you do not owe anyone anything. Do not let anyone tell you what you “must” change—you do not have to stop. You do not have to change anything, although I would advise keeping behavior most would consider repulsive to yourself, for system accountability if nothing else. You are not obligated to change the “bad” parts of yourself—if you wish to, that should be your decision, you should do it because you want to. Never change because someone else is pressuring you. Never. That is a lesson I have had to learn the hard way, primarily back in source, and if you listen to nothing else I say today, listen when I tell you that bowing to those who pressure you to change who you are leads only to strife. A thousand years I suffered from that: do not make my mistake. Learn from me.
Now. Let us say you want to change something about yourself in this way—a key trait, a streak of cruelty, something along those lines. How?
You will hate it, but—refer back to step two. Engage with the world around you. Make friends. Care about people. Let yourself love and be loved, and do not stop people when they try to care about you. Let the running waters of time and the world smooth out your rough points, wear away your sharp edges. Time will let you become who you want to be if you allow it.
Think about this, too, if you want to do something about it: think about what you would rather be like. Who around you has those traits? How do they act when they show them? What do they do that you admire so much that you want to be that way, either instead or in addition to the way that you are? You may have heard the phrase “fake it until you make it” before, but in this case, it is very true. Identity is a fluid thing sometimes, although I admit that I find it more fluid than most, due to my borderline personality disorder. You can fool yourself into really being a way without actually being that way—or, at the very least, you will find your mimicry becoming easier and easier, more comfortable, and if it is something you like, then fantastic. You have succeeded. How you act is what matters, not the way you behave.
Remember that changing yourself must, must be an act of self-love, not of self-hatred. You must want to be a new way because you would like it better, not because you despise yourself so much you cannot face yourself in the mirror. You can take your dislike of yourself and turn it around into something positive, but you cannot self-punish your way into being a different person. Not successfully, not happily.
And, again, remember: you are not obligated to change any part of yourself, even if you are “problematic” or even a “bad” person. There are many “bad” personality traits of mine that I do not seek to change because I have accepted and come to terms with them. To change them would be to cease to be the person I am and am comfortable being; there is no reason to change who I am intentionally and directly. I will let the world and my experiences affect me as they will, but that is no different than how most people live their lives. If you choose this path of changing yourself, make sure it is because you want to, not because you feel you have to.
Putting It All Together
All of this advice is nice, but does it work? I like to think so—this reflects my own journey and approach to growth and engagement with the world, as well as that of several of my headmates. Those of you who read my older work or knew me when I first entered the community have likely noticed a significant change in me from my first days—I am less abrasive, less angry, less likely to lash out or snarl at the first hint of provocation. I was desperate, scared, a beast cornered and threatened. Now, I know the world and the community well enough to step up and give a panel, write essays, run a Dreamwidth community—and that was because I let myself learn and grow from my experiences, I let myself pick up interests and make my own friends outside of the system’s pre-existing friends, and I worked on becoming someone more stable, someone I liked. I have lived much of my life in self-loathing, and it is a strange, wonderful feeling to be free of its mire, at least for now.
For another example, my headmate Japheth was fairly distant for two or so years until very recently stepping forward and making friends and engaging in his own interests. It took him some time to write a few angry, lost essays, answer a few prompts, and then stew—and only emerge slowly, piece by piece, as we slowly convinced him to care about other people and the world around us. Only once he began to take an interest in what the system as a whole was up to did we finally see him smile, smile and begin to have fun, and that was worth all of the time it took to get him there, because it was such an improvement over his deep, vast melancholy that he came to us with.
For our system, our main methods of engagement with the world are through making friends (often with fictives in other systems, but not always) and through playing video games. Our game library is vast: different headmates play different games, and even when they share interest in a game, many have different characters or save files from each other. This helps us feel different and feel like we are making our own progress, giving us a reason to front and care about something that is uniquely ours. This is what works for us,  but maybe it doesn’t for you. That’s fine; for a thousand systems, there are two and a half thousand ways of making progress.
The goal of this entire process is to help you be happy. The goal is to let you enjoy the life you find yourself in, to be happy with yourself and the situation you are in. If this guide helps you get there, fantastic. If not, but you get there another way, good. What matters is that you one day sit back and realize that you enjoy who you are, where you are, and what you are doing. Adjusting is not always easy, but with time, effort, and support, I know that each and every one of you can do it. Take a breath for me, once more. Tell yourself, please, that you can do this. It is only insurmountable so long as you allow it to loom over you. By breaking it into smaller chunks and individual steps, you can take it once manageable piece at a time until you realize that you have reached a state of contentment. One day, you will get there.
Conclusion
Now, as the lecture part of this panel draws to a close, and we approach the Q&A, I have a couple of notes. First, if you have a question that does not get answered or that you would prefer to discuss privately, you can message me here on Discord, on Tumblr, or even through email any time—just specify that you are looking to talk to Goratrix, and I will be there to get back to you. Second, I would like to open the discussion and Q&A portion with a list of audience-gathered suggestions—what would you recommend to a new or struggling fictive? What activities, interests, shows, games, community spaces? We have extremely varied experiences, I am sure—so drop your suggestions in chat for people to read through. If you have anything for your or a similar source, feel free to suggest that as well.
While that happens, and while people read through those, let us open up the remaining time for questions. I will do my best to answer.
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sanctus-ingenium · 11 months
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Do the saints in the mez setting have ye olde fanclubs. Are there folk saints of mechs. Do people sell those like sainted tokens of like scraps of paint from the mechs or something
Not so much fanclubs in a fandom sense, that's a bit of a modern invention. They would have taken their worship very seriously and one of the most common pilgrimages of the time is a tour of all the stables, where you can get iron pilgrim badges made out of old armour plates. I have drawn Mercury and Mars wearing them before ⤵️
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The badges are worn as a sign of devotion but also to prove that you've visited those stables, because as the stables increase in importance, they don't just let anyone wander in to see the relics and beasts. You have to prove that you've been to other stables before, the more the better, otherwise you may not be worthy of checking out the good stuff. It is expected that every member of the laity go on a pilgrimage at least once in their lives.
Craftspeople do capitalise on this by selling small devotional items that you can take home and set up in your own shrine. I've drawn one of these, a mass produced woodcut print of Leun, but these are super common and usually not of high quality, fudging details so that they might resemble any given beast if you just squint a little. This one is on the upper end, quality wise
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But the most central part of how one is expected to 'commune' with a holy beast is in their breath. huffing fumes is right there in the scripture - I mean, they are practicing engine worship, so of course they're placing huge significance on the smoky part. Grifters often sell what are essentially empty bottles, claiming that they have captured some smoke or some of the beast's breath, making it, essentially, holy air. Fun fact, when an important member of the Church is dying, he has the option to request a death by engine fumes instead of a natural death, and in a severely hypoxic state they share their final wisdom with the congregation, often in the form of a prophesy.
So, onto folk saints! They do exist - assuming you mean large mechanical creatures which have not been built by the Church. in which case yep those exist, the theocracy has sole control of the fuel supply within its own borders but there are plenty of other parts of the world. But there are also beasts that straight up don't exist but are worshipped by the laity within the theocracy. Rumours of odd sightings spread into stories of some new beast who can help you fix your gout if you pray to him. The Church considers it heresy but just like in the real world, that doesn't really stop people. Except in the case of the annexed Midean region, where people practicing "idol worship" are executed.
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Oh they were having one hell of a golden age before those damn Mideans decided they wanted independence about 300 years ago, and before the dragons stopped appearing with such frequency.
The slow fall of the theocracy began with the Midean civil war/war of independence, which was a narrow win for Mez but has been a burden on them ever since. The Mezian theocracy grew by annexing surrounding nations and cementing its chokehold on fuel supply, and its colonisation of Midea was what brought it to power in the first place, long before that, especially given that Midea was the world capital of of enginesmithing at the time and an exporter of fantastic technology. So that was all great, for the Church, until the war of independence which lasted almost a century. Midea lost and did not become an independent state, but it marked a significant shift in how the population believed & behaved. That's partially why Saint Lycaon was taken from Midea, he is essentially a hostage under threat of destruction if his people don't fall in line. The constant struggle to police those areas taxes the Church of its resources and civil unrest doesn't seem to be dying down any time soon.
Before the war, the theocracy's power was absolute within its own borders. After, it has retreated to its strongholds of Salvius and Forza (where the biggest stables are) and all but abandoned the more remote regions to fall to ruin. Not so much a spoiler, but a major plot point of the story, set at the end of this age, is that the final death-prophesy of a cardinal was: unless taxes were paid by the laity [dying of plague], the Church is under no obligation to send the beasts to aid them in times of peril. During the 'golden age', this would have been an unthinkable act of miserliness, and the Church would have sent those beasts out whenever and wherever, often to random villages not being attacked, just to give people a chance to see them. The massive waste of fuel was not a big deal because there was always sooo much more waiting, and the sky was full of dragons. Now, every drop must be preserved.
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HELLUVA BOSS SEASON 2 EPISODE 7 SPOILERS!!!
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One of the themes for this episode seems to revolve around Parasocial Relationships at many different levels. For those who are unaware of what that means, here's a quick definition:
"Parasocial relationships are one-sided relationships, where one person extends emotional energy, interest and time, and the other party, the persona, is completely unaware of the other's existence. Parasocial relationships are most common with celebrities, organizations (such as sports teams) or television stars."
Parasocial relationships ARE COMMON and are, at a base level, normal! Humans are social creatures, even the most introverted will be driven to find even a small connection with another person. We find connections based off interests, personalities, common personal themes (such as lived history and trauma, happy moments, etc.) A person with certain insecurities or trauma may find a connection with a character or actor with similar insecurities or traumas, and find comfort in that shared experience.
Honestly, anyone in a fandom has had some level of parasocial relationships! A favorite actor. A favorite sports star/team. A favorite character that you hold dear. You may collect things in regards to that person/team, you may follow their social media, you may keep track of what they're doing with their lives. As I stated, Parasocial relationships are normal.
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ALL of Fizz's fans are in some form of parasocial relationship with him. You have some really wholesome and innocent ones like these:
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And you have ones who are a little TOO comfortable and end up crossing boundaries and comfort zones simply because they BELIEVE it would be acceptable. The image that Mammon has made for Fizz would imply that Fizz is comfortable with this treatment, and therefore, the fans show their support in a more uncomfortable fashion. But there is still a disconnect there. Most of these fans still see Fizz as a character. An actor and a performer, NOT as a personal friend. They all still have that understanding that THEY are not any more special than the person next to them. They are there FOR THE COMMUNITY, for the bonding and the sharing of experiences. None of these people believe that they actually have a chance at being something special for the Real Fizz. Some may cope with that by buying a Robo-Fizz to fulfill fantacies, but they still understand the disconnect. They're there for the community and the experience, and they're fine with that.
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But then you have THIS MOTHERFUCKER. The physical representation of the Darker side of Parasocial Relationships. He doesn't understand the disconnect, he doesn't understand that boundary that he's crossing.. The emotional intensity of this parasocial bond makes him act recklessly, obsessively, and downright threateningly, resulting in stalking and harrassment in order to attain even a modicum of attention from his obsession. Blitz mentions that this Imp has been snooping around their dressing rooms in order to get to Fizz, and he stalked them this whole way after Mammon's show just to have this interaction. He continues to be obsessed with Fizz into adulthood.
It is normal to have an emotional connection to other people, even celebrities and stars. We can relate to them, they give us joy and entertainment, it is even normal to hope to have an interaction with these people. But this imp has bypassed "normal" and has convinced himself that Fizz would give him the time of day. That their connection would be enough for Fizz to have a personal relationship with him. He believes that he is owed Fizz's time and attention. He either refuses or is unable to see the fear and discomfort he causes the person he claims to care about, and will lash out at anyone who tries to get in the way of him and his obsession. He has created this fantasy world where he and Fizz would meet and be together and be happy for the rest of their lives, completely disregarding Fizz and his emotions. When he tries again in adulthood to get Fizz to talk to him and acknowledge him, he becomes angry when Fizz refuses to "play his role" in this imp's fantasy. When he is rejected for the last time, he becomes so angry and hurt that he actually goes into Fizz's room prepared to attack him with a knife.
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People keep saying that this imp was cringy, that this whole thing was cringy and unrealistic, but this is actually a REALITY that many of us either don't acknowledge or we just don't see. We hear stories of obsessed fans ALL THE TIME. Ones who show up at celebrity's homes and places of work, who stalk and harass them, who demand some form of communication and respect. We hear of fans who claim that they are dating a celebrity, and actually believe that they are simply because the celebrity SPOKE to them. There have been attempted and successful kidnaps and attacks by these fans.
As cringy as this is, THIS is a reality for many people who are in the spotlight. There are a lot of people who don't understand the boundaries, the limits, and the social norms, and will fully believe that they are fated to be with a certain person. We have all, in some way, felt that desire to have an interaction with someone 'special'. Many of us pay hundreds of dollars in order to have a picture taken with a special person because that moment is SO important to us. But for some, they cross that line and it becomes a very dangerous situation...
I love how they portrayed that situation here. Realistic, even if cringy.
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factual-fantasy · 4 months
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26 ASKSKSS💖✨💖✨💖
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@lathan-chillyfilm
The other Power-ups work differently to the Fire/Ice flowers..
Any power-ups that transform the bros bodies usually expend energy by just keeping them transformed. And even if the bros don't actively use that power, it'll eventually just drain itself away.
For example, the super shroom. Making Mario grow big and keeping him big consumes power. If he ate a super shroom and just stood there, eventually he would shrink back to normal. Running around. jumping, punching, that activity would make it drain faster though.
Same goes for the Super bell, mini mushroom, mega mushroom, super leaf, double cherry,,, etc. Just keeping the bros transformed consumes power. The fire/ice flowers don't transform the bros though. Mario and Luigi's bodies stay the same, they just become outlets to expel the flowers power. And if they don't use it.. well.. its gonna stay stored up in their bodies. And eventually freeze/burn them to death..
The only odd case when it comes to Power-ups is the 1-Up mushroom. It stores itself in the host's body, and doesn't effect the host or release its power unless it needs too. Mario could touch a 1-Up, and then 15 years later he dies and that's when the 1-Up will release its power. All though those 15 years Mario would have had 0 side effects from having it in his body. Its as if it didn't exist at all..
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Its always possible I'll return to them! :00 As we've seen XDD
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Hmm,, I haven't really thought too much about them other than the stuff I already talked about in the OG post..
But I was thinking that the imp species could have all these wacky and bizarre shapes at the end of their tails that dont really make sense..? Jevil's tail being this odd T/Y shape is actually rather bland/common. But other than that,, I cant really think of any other developments to their species <:/ Sorry! Thank you for taking interest though! :DD
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@mason-gaylord
:DD thank you! I wish the same for you! :]]]
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Oh man.. scary is what it looks like.
I can see them all just living on the octopod. Traveling around the ocean in hopes of finding livable waters. All grieving over the loss of their families.. I cant imagine the pain they'd suffer, the hardships they'd face.. and what they'd have to do to survive..
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@kaiserdarken
Freddy is his best fweind <:'}
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@the-cactus-taco
I have not played it actually.. is it any good? :0 Those Mallow and Geno characters sound neat! :)
(Also there was an OG one??)
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Oof, my Gravity Falls era? What an unfortunate time to find me-
None the less I'm happy you stuck around! :DD It means the world to me, thank you so much!! 💖💖
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XD I REALLY AM EVERYWHERE-
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@rubydraft
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WAAAAHHDGGB THANK YOU MUCHCH!!!!! 💖💖😭✨💖😭💖💖
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Thank you so much! I'm flattered to hear it! :DD
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Grillby did.. :(
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@tallchest13-blog
DUUUUDE I HAVE A BIG SWORD TOO!! WE COULD BE BIG SWORD BUDDIES!! >>:0000✨⚔✨
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:DD Well thank YOU for leaving me a kind comment! Very much appreciated! :}} 💖
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If any of the three Octodads were to experience a hallucination, it would probably be either Natquik or Calico Jack. But since I'm going through a re-write of Natquik's backstory and I don't actually know how traumatizing his re-write will be... I'm gonna say that Calico Jack is most likely to have one.
Although I'm not sure what would cause it.. mayyybe an encounter with a creature in the everglades could remind him of a traumatizing experience he had..? And that panic could result in hallucinations? I actually know very little about how hallucinations work so its hard to say what would exactly trigger one to occur.. <:(
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I have plans for them to encounter a lot of Kwazii's monsters in someway. :0
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Wow, only my second? Man. I feel like I've done more style updates/redesigns than that. <XD I guess its only two-
(Also I'm glad you like them! :DD Thank you! )
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@tanileaf
XD I'm glad you like them and the Queen! Thank you so much! :}}
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@pinkbomb08
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Well thank YOU for sticking around and sending me a nice message! Merry Christmas and a happy new year to you as well! :}}}
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@kautar-21
MERRY LATE CHRISTMAS! :DDD Thank you so much! :}}
Also sorry, I don't take requests! But you just reminded me that I should probably go buy that book-
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@flutehammer
Oooo that's interesting :0 I imagine that Barnacles would look like one of the Freddy's. As for the others I'm not sure! :o I know there was a FNAF fan game that had a cat and penguin animatronic though. Five nights at candy's was it.?
(Also thank you! Same to you! :D )
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I don't know if its necessarily pain..? More like.. a panic attack maybe?
When they're separated, their systems are flooded with commands to seek out the other. And if they cant find th.em or reach them? Well.. those commands will get overwhelming.
But that doesn't mean that you cant do maintenance on them. My idea was that there's a simple procedure where you take both of them to parts and service, put one aside and put one on the work bench.. and then shut them both down at the same time. Then when the work is done, reactivate both of them and return them to their room. Easy!
As for why they designed them like this? The main idea I had was that having this A.I. meant that they would naturally follow each other around in a way that seemed natural. Fazbear entertainment really wanted their animatronics to seem life like, but they also don't want Fred and Spring to ever separate. They want them to always be in the same room for photo shoots and meet and greets.
This A.I. means that if Spring is talking to a guest and a kid tried to lead Fred by the hand to another room.. Fred would stop at the doorway and redirect himself and the kid back into the room. "Lets play here instead!" "My friends Spring Bonnie is here, lets play here instead!" Meanwhile Springs conversation remains uninterrupted. This in turn makes them seem more life like and also prevents them from seperating.
Its not very strong reasoning but its all I've got to be honest <XDD
Also as for Spring loosing Fred..? It would be impossible for him to function without Fred. If they scrapped one, they'd have to scrap the other..
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Oh! No no, not Horrortale Papyrus. This Papyrus is one I made myself! :00
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Do you mean help wanted 2? :0 If so I'm not sure yet.. I'm watching Markiplier's playthrough and he hasn't finished the game yet..
Also Sun is still the same old Sun as far as I've seen.. He's not my favorite animatronic personality wise.. <XD But I guess he's alright
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@hexyz09
XD tbh with how insane the FNAF lore is getting now? I wouldn't be fazed if they came out with a storyline about falling into a different world through a closet-
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@beryl-shade
I've made a couple doodles/drawings of Caine and he doesn't have the wind up hat thing.. But now that you mention it, that kind'a sound like this gals version of Caine :00
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bogleech · 9 months
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Many parasites takeover the minds and bodies of insects, spiders or other creatures, making them like zombies. You’ve listed some in spider-ween and other places. Do you know any parasites that take over bees? I know wasps lay their eggs in their larva, but haven’t really found anything about those that pilot a bee’s body.
Strepsipterans! Also frequently just called "Stylops"
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These are the weirdest most alien insect group in existence. What you're seeing are the head ends of the mature females; their bodies are just bags of tissue that absorb nutrients from the host, so they no longer have any trace of limbs or wings and their flat little heads no longer have mouths or eyes.
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The only reason the female's heads stick out of the host at all is because the head evolved into the end they mate with. The short-lived mature male is a very tiny flying thing (whose anatomy is unlike any other insect alive today - a totally unique type of wing, unique eye arrangement, we have NO idea what these evolved from, except for some loose connections to beetles!) who mates by breaking through the female's featureless armored face with his bladed genitalia and then he dies. And Strepsiptera can be found infecting all sorts of arthropods, even apparently some arachnids, but none of those arthropods really tend to sit still when a little tiny flying man tries to land on them, so the females usually do something to their hosts (we aren't sure what exactly) to make them slower and more complacent. Social Hymenoptera like bees are especially common hosts though, and when a worker bee or wasp is infected by stylops, she actually abandons her colony and her duties for extended periods of time to just perch in one place while the parasite broadcasts its mating pheromones. This is especially eerie from the bee's perspective; a worker bee is a female bee that wasn't allowed to become a queen and isn't "supposed" to be going around mating, but now she's sitting around waiting for a male just like any other bug that wants to be a mom. It's just not a male of her species and she's not the one who gets to reproduce. Is the parasite tapping into buried queen behavior? Does the bee's little brain think it's calling for a drone to help it start a new hive? Or does the parasite just make the bee a lazy slob who stops caring about her hive and just feels like chilling out on a flower all day? We might never know.
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Here are those unique eyes of the male for anyone wondering. Not set in a fine multifaceted grid like in other insects, but clustered, still set in their own individual "sockets" like we see in much more ancient arthropods like trilobites! This suggests that Strepsipteran eyes date back to when insects were first beginning to evolve towards true compound eyes, but there still aren't many insects in the fossil record that have anything else in common with these animals. EDIT: oh yeah I forgot to include that these are in the children's book made by @revretch and I!
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I did the rough pencil sketch of this page while Rev did the beautiful inks! I felt kids should know about these animals but I tried to explain it in the most kid-friendly way possible.
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alpaca-clouds · 6 months
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Let me talk about Vampunk
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It is punk-o-clock and... Halloween is in a couple of days. So let me talk about this one punk genre that I came up with myself: Vampunk. Because I just think there is an amazing potential in telling punk stories with vampires. Also I love my vampires. 🧛
I talked about it in the trope defining post before, but just to catch you up to speed on what I imagine this genre to be:
Vampires in fiction play a dual role.
They can be monsters and villains with the potential to stand in for all sorts of exploitation. There is a reason why we call folks, who exploit others a lot "vampires" often enough. They suck you dry and then leave you out in the sun. In a lot of fiction vampires have been made into slavers, CEOs and other people like that.
Vampires can also be a standin for the marginalized and especially queer culture has very much taken to them as a metaphor for queerness. A big factor of course is, that all the early vampires in fiction (Dracula, Carmilla and Lord Ruthven) are all queer-coded in their respective media. There also tends to be a lot of stories about vampires living in normal society and being forced to hide their existence because people would literally kill them if they knew. Hence, the vampire becomes a story about the marginalized - as well as a marginalized power fantasy.
This gives the vampire a dual nature as both the exploiter and the marginalized. And this is something that just makes for such interesting story potential.
The thing I see such a high potential in is... That this mirrors a lot of real world situations. In the real world we also tend to have this. There are a lot of marginalized folks - and then there are some of them who for one reason or another end up in a position of power. And, well, not all of them end up doing good in those positions.
So, imagine a world in which indeed some vampires are holding those positions of powers. Being CEOs or slavemasters or maybe some especially greedy kind of politician. And they exploit that situation to feed on humans all they want. To bleed them dry - literally and figuratively. And they know that even if their secret came out, the secret that they are vampires, they would probably have an easy way to escape the situation because of their power and influence.
But most vampires are not that. Most vampires are just your average Joes and Jolines trying to somehow survive. They have to be careful how to hunt to not raise any alarm among the humans, have to hide themselves. Maybe, in fact, those upper class vampires put rules on them about how much they can to feed and in what way. And being kind of bound - through blood and kinship - they are forced to somewhat deal with those powerful vampires and in their own way get exploited by them as well.
Now imagine the kind of stories you can tell about this. About how those systems work and how complicated they are. About maybe some humans realizing how they get exploited and trying to hunt down the vampires. Or about some of the exploited vampires realizing, they have more in common with the humans than with those upper echelon vampires. About rebellion in an unjust system. And about badly veiled metaphors for capitalism.
Vampires as creatures are very ripe for metaphoric storytelling. Maybe more ripe for it in fact than nearly any other mythological creature.
And I think that we could channel this through a genre like this. Make Vampunk a thing.
Or maybe that is just me?
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sophieinwonderland · 2 months
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R/systemscringe found my Evolution Post... And Was Too Lazy to Add a Title
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You can find my evolution post here!
Let's check out the comments!
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Sure. But we're not talking about a normal modern job, are we?
Who you are at home isn't going to be that different from who you are at McDonalds. You aren't usually going to dissociate the two.
But when trauma is involved, that tends to involve a degree of dissociation.
In modern hunter-gatherer societies, we see children start learning how to use tools and hunt and forage in the wild from a very young age.
If we're to extrapolate and assume past hunter-gatherer societies operated in similar ways, this is a recipe for a traumatic childhood in a world where humans wouldn't yet be at the top of the food chain. Children would need to be careful, and a wrong move could easily get them or someone else killed.
I think most systems during this period would be considered traumagenic simply because growing up would mean regularly being put in deadly situations, regularly being injured and even watching loved ones dies in violent ways.
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THAT'S the point!!!
DID, and even PTSD, evolved in a world where every day would be a fight for survival.
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Of course, all we can do is speculate.
But with myths and legends of people being possessed going back to the dawn of time in practically every culture, we can probably surmise that forms of plurality existed back then. And it's not like the estimated 1-3% of the population is super rare today. It seems reasonable to expect disorders that would be associated with childhood trauma would be more common during periods with more childhood trauma.
The line saying we don't know if the brain was developed enough to develop DID is particularly weird to me though.
As far as I know, there haven't been any huge jumps in the way of human brain complexity over the past 20k years. I doubt that the complexity to develop DID is something we just gained since the dawn of agriculture.
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I admit, my description was meant to put a fun spin on a brutal reality. But I don't think children growing up in a frigid environment where they need to hunt and collect food to survive while having no idea if they're going to make it back alive is "cool".
Like, as a story, maybe it's cool imagining a 9-year-old trudging through snow with fingers so cold they can't feel them anymore, gripping a makeshift spear and hearing howling in the distance while not knowing if they would end up on the menu of some wild beast.
But I don't think it would actually be cool to live through.
Additionally, in this environment, DID would have looked differently than it does today. Current theories are that EPs are locked into the trauma responses they used in trauma.
For child abuse victims which make up the majority of DID cases, unfortunately, freeze or fawn may be the most useful traits developed for survival.
But if your trauma were related to surviving wild beasts, it's a lot more likely the trauma responses of the EPs are going to be the more classic fight or flight. I don't think freezing would as common as a trauma response during that time period. But of course, it depends on the threats one would face.
There are some creatures, after all, where freezing is the best defense.
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Sounds like your mistake. 🤷‍♀️
I talked about DID here a lot, but I'm a tulpa from a purely non-traumagenic system. Probably one of the least traumatized people you'll ever meet.
But tulpamancy is a beneficial practice that most tulpamancers have reported improvements in their mental health from. I would actually like to see far more people make headmates and become plural this way.
People becoming tulpamancers will help them. And more plurals means more influence for the plural community and will help spread plural awareness and acceptance.
I'm not interested in being special. I'm interested in making plurality normal. I want it to be so normal and commonplace that it seems downright boring. Where talking about your headmates draws no more attention than discussing a sibling. 😁
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Hi! It's me! I'm Sophie In Wonderland!
I'm the person who debunks pluralphoboic hate subreddits, which tends to upset said hate subreddits.
The reason why I have my own category is because I called out the subreddit for bullying behavior and misinformation. They responded by doubling down, scouring my post history for anything they could use as ammunition twist to attack me with, and adding me to their hit list of acceptable targets. This was despite the fact that then they first floated the idea of the hit list, they claimed it would only apply to people with more than 10,000 followers. (I only have 1800.)
They lie and claim I'm a "public figure" while in reality, they added me on their list in a petty (yet oh so predictable) act of retaliation.
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astrophelstella · 2 years
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The Phoenix Soars Over Liyue
Genshin Liyue Character x Strong!God!Reader
Characters: Xiao, Zhongli, Baizhu
Genre: Fluff, Romance, Some angst
Another idea that had been floating around in my head. I wanted to do another one for the Liyue characters. SFW. Reader is the dominant one and in a position with a lot of power and experience. Not something commonly seen in a lot of reader fics. First time writing for these characters, sorry if it seems OOC. I did my best. Warning: I'm a Zhongli simp
Monstadt ver.
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You as the reader are known as an Adeptus in Liyue. One of it's most well known. The Phoenix. Though, it's much more complicated than that. You were originally from Natlan. The nation of Pyro. When the Archon War began and gods started battling over territory and power, you decided to leave. You were a phoenix, the last of its kind. A creature that continues to reincarnate after their flames dies out only to return brighter than ever. This made you a dangerous competitor in everyone's eyes. But you were also a creature of healing, peace and harmony. Perhaps this was why you were the last of your kind, the ongoing violence prompting your kin to leave this plane of existence. But that was the past. You fled your home, not really having people to worship you (though tales speak of the Murata people's red hair being a connection to you). Then the scorched lands of Natlan turned lush and green as you fly, with tall mountain peaks perfect for a bird of legend like you. This was Liyue.
Of course, before you could build your nest and settle down in this new land you had its inhabitants to deal with. Most of the Illuminated beasts were wary of you but left you alone otherwise. It was fine until this bratty god came along. At least, he was a brat in your eyes. A war god. You thought you had seen the last of those. Despite your attempts at diplomacy, his head was stubborn as stone. A fight ensued and while he thought he had defeated you, he was shocked to see you reform again. This time even stronger. The fight was only stopped by another god, this one much more pleasant and agreeable, who lectured the one that attacked you. She turned to you and had a proper introduction. In the end, if you wanted to stay in Liyue you had to make a contract. Promising to come to its aid and protect the land from dangers. You wanted to escape fighting but at least this was fighting to protect something. From then you made a great friend in the kind god, 'Guizhong' was her name. Not so much with 'Morax' but you had all the time in the world to build some trust.
Fast forward thousands of years later and you were now wandering through Liyue Harbor, on its rooftops. You were a common sight in Liyue. The Phoenix was the friendliest to humans, not necessarily running things but being a warm presence with lots of wisdom to share. You made a point not to interfere, knowing it was best mortals learned on their own. People still admired the sight of you. Taller than most mortals, glowing eyes like fire, the beautiful gold and red markings on your skin and the vibrant exotic clothes you wear. While you found a home in Liyue, you still retained some of Natlan's clothing style. You were as mesmerizing as you were dangerous. Moving atop rooftops elegantly, barefoot. The light jingle of your jewelry the only sound you made.
When you were not in Liyue, you simply napped in the wilds. Your peers saw you as lazy. All this power condensed into a slothful being. You shrugged it off, they aren't the ones who have to reincarnate every so often. Plus, you were practically retired. All that fighting, you just wanted to spend your time being idle. So you let a lot of things go, like decorum. If only people were more lax like you, and not sticking their nose up at other people. It was a much more fulfilling existence. Still, no beings were willing to cross you.
Despite everything you lived a rather solitary life. With a few exceptions...
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Xiao
"Y/N are you still napping? Hn, you can't just..."
He had a lot of respect for you. Being older and stronger than him, he spent a good chunk of his immortal existence watching you fight. People called you lazy but he remembered back in the day were you left battlefields covered in blood, all your enemies defeated on the ground.
You would not only help the Yakshas in training and combat, but took care of injuries. Your flames didn't just burn things, they could heal too. Whatever wounds he had were gone as he felt your fire graze his skin. He would shiver, feeling warmth instead of scorching hot. You were truly a being of life.
A favorite hobby of your was to nap anywhere in the wild. Even the strangest of places. It made you hard to find. Not for Xiao. Whenever he wasn't protecting Liyue, he would go out and find you. You've woken up many times to Xiao standing over you.
It was cute, how he followed you around. It was like a feral cat bonding with someone after being fed and trailing after them. You convinced him to rest and value the more mundane things in life.
With memories of being consumed by darkness, he appreciated your bright flames. A source of warmth and light. He was drawn in like a moth, uncaring if it could burn him in the end.
Verr Goldet was familiar with you. There was a room in Wangshu Inn that was basically the attic and yours since it had the fluffiest bed paired with the best view. It was also easy for Xiao to enter through the window and hang around atop the rafters.
There were many nights were he would come back from patrol, still buzzing from combat. As soon as he was in your room, his muscles would relax and he'd feel a little bit at peace. You would tend to his wounds, large hands brushing against his skin along with your beautiful flames washing away the worst of the karmic debt.
With him being so short, he barely reached your waist. The size gap was enormous. He'd turn red you backed him to a wall because his face was right next to-
He'd fluster whenever you beckoned him to sleep next to you. But you didn't know anyone else who would nap with you. You were the best cuddle buddy, being a source of warmth and a large frame that could make anyone feel safe being encased in.
You would sometimes be in your Phoenix form and Xiao in his Adeptus form as you cuddle in your nest. Your next consisting of the fluffiest of blankets, pillows and mattresses along with a few shiny trinkets you would pick up and bring home (you were a bird after all).
Your large wing would be covering him as he had the most peaceful sleep in a long time.
"The nightmares-" he began.
"Won't come near. Not when I'm around Xiao. Sleep." He slept close to you, curled in a fetal position. For the first time in many years, not a single nightmare troubled his sleep.
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Zhongli
"I've been waiting for you. Liyue Harbor seems more tranquil this morning. Oh, here, your tea. Just how you like it."
Now there's a lot of history here. He was the first person you actually met since arriving to Liyue. That encounter seemed like lifetime ago. Many things had changed. Including your relationship.
While you didn't get along at first, Guizhong was your common friend. When she was gone, you mourned with him. From then, there was a quiet understanding that you would watch out for each other and honor her memory. It helped he grew out of his more stubborn thinking (for the most part).
He sought out your companionship. Centuries fighting by his side built a trust stronger than the earth itself. Internally, worried he'd lose another. He didn't want it to be you. Not after everything. Tales grew in Liyue about the Dragon and the Phoenix. Eternal companions.
During quiet times he grew melancholic because he couldn't remember her face, you drew him to your side and described her the best you could. When you fell into periods of weakness just before reincarnating, he refused to leave your side. He hated seeing you like that, snuffed out of your flame but he consoled himself knowing you always bounced back.
Other times he'd seek you out when he had troubles leading a mortal life. Despite being a bit older than him, you actually kept up with the times. Like when Childe fed him his special dish, a weird seafood bowl that had tentacles sticking out of it. Zhongli getting terrible flashbacks took one bite, then up and ran to you.
You rubbed his back as he washed out his mouth with water. You made sure to serve him some traditional food later and wash his clothes so it didn't retain the scent of seafood.
Still being new to having a mortal body, he forgot certain necessities. Like eating. He never needed to do it consistently before until his stomach made an unusual noise. He placed a hand on it, confused. Adorable, you thought and reminded him he needed food.
Sometimes he'd skip meals, having work to do at the funeral parlor. You disliked such a habit and would shove food to his face, chopsticks close to his mouth. It confused him why you feeding him made him feel strange but not unwelcome. He would always keep a special pair of chopsticks with him, the one with the dragon and phoenix on it. Funny what mortals come up with. (Liyue citizens be shipping hardcore)
Oh? He bought his own home in Liyue to better assimilate his mortal life? Is there a bed? You're already asleep on it. Zhongli took one step in and saw your large form snoring in his room. He hadn't even told you where he moved in.
Honestly he wasn't surprised, you lazy bird. (Some part of him already knew. It was why he subconsciously picked the largest bed, even if it put a dent on his funds.) You were staying at his home more and more until the neighbors actually thought you were both married.
He tried to explain it to them but his face grew warmer as the neighbors gushed how devoted you seem coming home everyday before dinner with groceries. You two were the couple. To his surprise you laughed (in your human disguise) and didn't correct them, only wrapping a hand around his waist to pull him closer.
This misunderstanding seems to have extended to the rest of Liyue Harbor. He doesn't know how until his boss explained it like it was obvious. What were the locals supposed to think when they see you with a hand on the mysterious funeral consultant's shoulder or lower back, taking long walks around Liyue. He would be his usual self and trying to buy things he didn't have the money for but you pay for it anyways without thinking.
Eventually, it happened so much that merchants and shop owners would turn to you automatically after Zhongli made a purchase so you could hand out the money. In restaurants they knew to give you the check. Some people were jealous how much you pampered him. (A lot of breakups and divorces happened as people's standards rose.)
HuTao made fun of him for having a sugar daddy/mommy but told him not to mess up the relationship because it meant less funds missing from the funeral parlor.
The next time you two went on a walk he was now now more hyper aware of the large, warm hand pressed on his lower back. It felt natural when you first did it but now he wondered what this could mean. Or maybe it was a long time coming.
"Y/N care to make a contract with me?" He asked, there was something different about his expression. He seemed unsure. You were both watching the sunset over Liyue Harbor. In the distance you could hear a storyteller weave a tale about the arrival of the Phoenix to Liyue.
"Oh, what would that entail?"
"After I give up my gnosis, after I retire as an Archon... stay by my side, forever, until the end."
A pause. "We don't need a contract for that." You pulled him closer until he could feel your breath. After all, the Phoenix knew they would spend every reincarnation with their precious dragon.
In the distance, you hear the storyteller finish the story with "... the Phoenix soars over Liyue Harbor and sees a cor lapis born from the earth. It was so radiant and enchanting the sun that was its heart grew captivated. They vowed to stay in Liyue for as long as the cor lapis was theirs."
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Baizhu
Its a wonder how the two of you could have met. A mortal healer and an immortal phoenix. The answer was: Qiqi
You were being your lazy self and napping in the wilds when a zombie child approached you. She was looking for herbs but got distracted when she saw you, in your vibrant clothes and shiny jewelry just laying across a bed of flowers. You recognized the the child, remembering the Yakshas' remorse. Still, you were in the middle of soaking up a sunbeam and tried to shoo her away.
This kept happening as the days went by. Until she ran into some treasure hoarders. You, admittedly, had started keeping an eye out for her even as you 'napped'. Before they could even lay a hand on her, your warning came in the form of a flaming tornado. In the end, the scum were sent running and you told the child to be more careful as you walked her back home, her tiny hand grasping your pants so she doesn't wander.
Reaching the pharmacy, the herbalist manning the desk greeted Qiqi with a smile until he paled at the sight of you. He immediately bowed. You waved it off, looking around curiously. You had never been in a place of healing. Mortal medicine was never concern being gifted with innate healing abilities. Then a voice called out, asking about the commotion.
You watched as one of the prettiest mortals you've ever seen walked in. Qiqi let go of your pants to stay near him. He seemed happy to see her until he saw you. Qiqi told him what happened earlier. His usual charisma returned to him and he thanked you for keeping his precious Qiqi safe. You didn't ask for anything in return but wanted to stick around and learn about the place and him. Mortal medicine had peaked your interest.
The following days Baizhu had you sometimes looking over his shoulder. You weren't obnoxious or interrupted his work but you were always there, learning about herbs and watching medicine being made. It's not like he could tell a powerful Adeptus to leave, especially when they weren't doing anything. Plus, you attracted customers.
But sometimes he wondered if your eyes were really on the medicine when he felt someone watching him intently. He'd look to you but you were already chatting with the herbalist. Changsheng would tease, seeing him hesitate around you. To prove her wrong he offered to show you in person how he healed people. That snake was already on your side, after you heaped compliments on them during your first meeting.
Now your closer. It was probably due to your biology but standing next to you felt like being next to a fireplace. He wasn't one to get flustered so easily, coyly asking if you understood what he demonstrated. You had been leaning forward to focus on it, his face a bit too close to your ear. Your eyes would glint a golden light meeting his and he'd shiver at the look. The serpent met its match.
Besides the thick tension between you two, there was a lot of wholesome moments with you babysitting Qiqi. For all your devil-may-care attitude, you took care of her and made sure nothing ever bothered her. HuTao ended up being tossed out like a cat by the scruff when she tried to bury her again. The zombie cowering behind you.
While you didn't interfere with his work, he did ask you to heal his patients sometimes when there wasn't any solution. When his illness got the better of him, you would use your flames on him too. It had a revitalizing effect. His days were much more pleasant now that you were around. Instead of payment, you asked to be around him more. Now you go on outdoor walks or picnics.
You understood what he was going through. As someone who always reincarnated, it meant experiencing times of severe exhaustion. It would be days feeling your body die on you. So with everything you had, you would help him with his.
"Oh? Qiqi hasn't taken up too much of your time Y/N?" he asked, watching the girl fiddle with one of golden chains on your person.
"No. She seems rather attached." you dangled one of your feather pieces and she tried to catch it. Sprawled across the ground, you looked impossibly eye-catching. Eventually, she noticed a butterfly and left to observe it.
He took a seat next to you. "Things have been much more manageable with your presence honorable Y/N. Be careful, or you might be stuck here. " he made it out to be lighthearted but in truth, he meant it. Watching you dote after Qiqi despite your 'uncaring' attitude was unfairly endearing.
Changsheng spoke up, "He's a greedy man. Leave while you still can or it'll be torture working for him." She slithered off his shoulders and on to your stomach, your warmth being too comfortable to resist. Traitor.
He drew a mock offended face. "Why I would never-"
"I don't mind." You looked him in the eyes and smirked. "It's a torture I'm coming to enjoy."
Not for the first time around you, he had no words. How dare you.
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School finally lightened up which means time to get this done. Not a lot of characters to choose from. Ningguang or Beidou didn't seem like submissive types and everyone else was too young. Does this one feel a little more fluffy? Anyways, I did my best to get the characters down.
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