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styllwaters · 5 months

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KNIGHT DEITIES

It's been a hot minute since I posted Vivere 44 art. Been intensely busy with school for the past few months but now that I've graduated I've got a lot of time to kill! Since the Knights post surpassed 1k notes I figured I may as well elaborate on them more. I'm so blown away by how much love they're getting already! Thank you all <3

I'm gonna talk a bit about Mountain and Plains Knight religions, mythology and a snippet of evolutionary history. I will cover Polar Knight religions in another post. The focus is on two gods in particular, Uwet-Jana and Kiraiarik.

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Uwet-Jana is the demigod of good health, vitality, and inner balance. In some regions they are also the god of fertility. The name of their Host is Uwetsil, and their Helmet is Serrjana. Mainly worshiped by Mountain cultures, Uwet-Jana takes the form of a Knight whose Host and Helmet are physically merged into a singular being.

Kiraiarik [pronounced ki-rai-ah-rik] is the personification of the host-helmet symbiotic relationship. They are the god of symbiosis, rebirth, and love. Kiraiarik was the name given to two immortal partners, a Host and a Helmet, who began as a singular being born to the sea in Ettera’s prehistoric era. Ettera decided to make them Two, one half (the Helmet) ruling over the sea and the other (the Host) having domain over the land. The story goes that in every form they take, they try to find each other - for their body remembers being One.

Both gods have lots of lore to their name. Further information below!

UWET-JANA

Uwet-Jana's Host body has long spines and red stripes like a Pike, and long fingerlike paws like a Helmet's manipulators. The Helmet section sports two long horns and elegant facial markings. Uwet-Jana has an iridescent sheen on their golden fur, catching the rays of the sun in a shimmering glow.

The story of Uwet-Jana is as follows: Both Uwetsil and Serrjana were born as runts, in a dark time when sickly Knights were seen as curses and not worth caring for. Their Order, believing them to be bad omens, cast them out to wander the tundra alone. They believed that the natural forces of Ettera (the Knight’s homeplanet) would quickly end them. However, Ettera took pity on the castaway, sending them three blessings. The first gift was a bone with marrow inside that ensured one is never hungry or thirsty again. Then, Ettera sent a warm, sweet wind into Uwet-Jana’s lungs which warded off all sickness and disease. Finally, a sun shower fell, the rains cleansing them and blessing them with a coat made of ivory and gold.

Transformed into a demigod with a hybrid body, Uwet-Jana was offered a place among the deities in the sky - but they refused, preferring to stay on the ground to share their gift with the mortals. Unbeknownst to them, their Order who had exiled them was struck by three curses from the Gods to mirror Uwet-Jana’s blessings: all the rivers in the area dried up and all their hunts were unsuccessful, leaving them with no food or water. Infections and diseases picked them off one by one, and a great storm ravaged the land, destroying their home and all remaining survivors. Uwet-Jana now blesses Knight Orders who take care of their sick and ailing members, and ignores those who don’t, leaving them to the wrath of the Gods.

Although they are nomadic and always on the move, many Mountain Orders will refuse to leave any sick members behind. They may also keep ivory statues of Uwet-Jana in their bags as a token of good fortune. Sometimes these statues are filled with bone marrow, or have holes which make a whistling sound as wind passes through it as a reference to Ettera’s gifts. Occasionally Pike Helmets are born with an extra long ‘horn’ spike, and are considered a child/reincarnation of Uwet-Jana. Additionally, whenever it rains while the sun is still shining, it is seen as a blessing from the demigod.

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KIRAIARIK

Kiraiarik's Host is depicted as a small creature with a striped pelt to mirror its ancestral form, and the Helmet as an aquatic beast with long, trailing red fins. It is frequently shown twisting around the Host, sharing its blood. Kiraiarik is also often simplified as two disembodied eyes looking at each other. (And yes, the artstyle is a nod to medieval depictions of heraldic beasts!)

To understand Kiraiarik, one must be aware of how much Plains religions are intrinsically tied to concepts of evolution and paleontology.

Digression on the origins of Etteran symbiosis:

Large stretches of Plains Knight deserts and scrublands were once submerged beneath the sea. As a result, there are countless fossil hotspots which have been unearthed over the centuries. These high concentrations of fossilised remains have lead to Plains cultures basing their religions around said discoveries. Although many features have been warped, the general timelines are strikingly similar.

For instance, a mass extinction event occurred on Ettera millions of years ago, caused by a series of catastrophic volcanic eruptions on a worldwide scale. This event is known in Plains culture as The Remaking, traditionally interpreted as the planet shedding its skin. Many species were decimated, but some groups survived; these happened to be phyla who possessed an exposed ‘Interfacer’ organ, a precursor to the specialised Integrator organ which connects the Host’s brain to the Helmet’s. Before The Remaking, there was no prior record of the deep symbiotic connection which Knights possess (scientifically deemed ‘Hyperadvanced Mutualism’). The Interfacer organ was used in the phyla for species to communicate simple stretches of data to each other, such as health and reproductive status. After the extinction, populations of these species were dwindling. To ensure their survival, an odd phenomenon occurred in which many individuals began to interface with different species who possessed the same organ - strangely enough, some were able to successfully exchange information. These individuals survived and passed on the practice to their offspring, eventually culminating in what would be discovered as a very primitive form of mutualism. Host and Helmet ancestors (pictured above) were some of the first species to achieve this.

As the planet recovered and populations increased, the relationship continued to solidify and become more complex, with symbiotic species sharing memories, emotions and complex thought. In modern times there is now an entire class of organisms on Ettera which possess an Integrator organ for Advanced Mutualism, including Knights.

Kiraiarik is said to be a manifestation of this relationship. After The Remaking, their two halves finally managed to find each other again, eternally locked in a joyous dance of love. (Side note: the love in question is not platonic nor romantic, but a deeper kind which is indescribable and not easily understood. Due to their intricate nervous systems, Knights have a higher degree of emotional intelligence and can experience sensations we would consider alien). When a Plains Knight is experiencing inner turmoil, they will often pray to Kiraiarik to restore a healthy connection. The god’s blessing is also called upon when an infant Host and Helmet first Assimilate.

Note: Many Plains ‘saints’ and deities have palindromic names which can be read both forwards and backwards, an indicator of holiness. Fun fact, the word Kiraiariku means “Your heart and mine are very old friends.”

Thank you for reading! More Knight content coming soon ;)

#come get yo foood #vivere 44 #my art #knights #speculative biology #spec bio #speculative evolution #sophonts #spec evo #xenobiology #art #illustration #worldbuilding #artists on tumblr #good god I have been working on this for over a month.#also been playing around with a fun new brush #a bit painterly and experimental

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incognit0slut · 5 months

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Right Kind of Wrong (16)

She never thought she’d be involved in a murder investigation and encounter her one-night-stand again, the awkward guy who isn’t exactly that good in bed—Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong… But as he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye.

Part Summary: Spencer is faced with a dangerous confrontation. wc: 3.4k

Series Warnings: 18+ explicit content, graphic details of murders, mentions of suicide, mentions of SA

A/n: this part went through so much editing until I was satisfied with it, also, can't believe this is ending soon!!

Other parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15

EVERYTHING FINALLY FELL INTO PLACE. Although it took longer than it normally did to solve a case, Spencer finally gathered every piece of information, every obscure clue, and every small detail he unfortunately missed before to make a clear profile.

Eric Adler—or Henry Wyatt as Garcia discovered through her meticulous sleuthing—was a master of disguise. He had concealed his identity under a different persona, changing his name the moment he packed his bags and left the town he grew up in. Oliver confirmed this discovery when Spencer visited the hospital the following day, once he had regained consciousness.

"Eric... he's a stranger to me," Oliver had said, his voice carrying a tinge of disbelief, a foreign look gleaming in his eyes. "Henry, on the other hand, was one of my closest friends."

"I'm assuming something happened for you to drift apart."

Oliver's gaze shifted. "We grew up in a very tight community. Religion was all we were taught," he began, his voice tinged with defiance and nostalgia. "I guess we became close from our rejection of those traditional values and practices."

Spencer acknowledged his words with a nod. "Your files showed there were a lot of crimes you committed in the past."

"I-I was very rebellious."

"I would say forcing yourself on a young, innocent girl was more than rebellious."

Oliver winced. "Listen, I'm not proud of my past," he confessed, his voice carrying a hint of regret. "But yes, my friends and I grew up doing things that were out of morals."

Spencer studied him. "What happened then?"

"A lot of pointing fingers," he admitted. "Our community leaders eventually found out and threatened us with severe punishment. From the outside, it was simply community service, but from the inside, it involved a lot of restraints and, well, whips."

Silence stretched between them. "It was how they punished the bad," Oliver explained further, his eyes searching Spencer's for comprehension. "They always say it whenever they were going to abuse us; 'The wicked will not go unpunished, but those who are righteous will go free.'"

"Proverbs 11:21," Spencer mumbled under his breath, recognizing the scriptural reference.

A hint of surprise flickered across Oliver's face. "Are you a religious person?"

He shook his head, implying a depth of knowledge that surpassed the boundaries of religious beliefs. "Was that what made you drift apart?"

"Partly, yes," Oliver answered with a sigh. "We didn't admit to it at first, but then under the pressure and the constant threat of punishment, I guess I became weak."

"Did you betray him?"

Oliver acknowledged the truth with a slow nod. "We were both punished, along with the others who were involved, but our leaders always wanted one name whom they could sacrifice, a name who held all responsibility. The initiator of all sins."

"So you put the blame on him," Spencer summarized, understanding the dynamics that had led to the fracture in their friendship.

"It was the only thing I thought of doing to save myself," he confessed. "He became a sacrifice. All the punishment turned onto him until he was cast out of the community. When his family didn't even try to interfere, he eventually left town. Never heard from him ever since."

"And then years later you saw him again."

His shoulders lifted in a nonchalant shrug.

"I didn't even recognize him at first. He had a different name, different hair, different style—he was practically a different person. When I realized who he actually was, I tried to confront him but he never acknowledged me." He then looked away, the emotion in his gaze concealed. "I just thought he didn't want to be associated with the past anymore."

It explained everything. The revelation about Eric's past and the harsh punishments he had to endure shed light on the motivations behind his actions. It explained why he felt compelled to punish people, as it was the only method deeply ingrained in his brain.

Their shared upbringing, the weight of betrayal, and the scars of their past had shaped his sense of justice, leading him down a dark path of vengeance. And with that new knowledge in mind, Spencer passed on the information he had discovered when he came to work the next day.

Everyone was gathered by the round table, an unusual thing to happen given that they were typically scattered in their assigned tasks, but all of them were present for once. Morgan leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing in contemplation after Spencer finished his thoughts. "So let me get this straight, Eric's vendetta against Oliver is personal. Goes beyond just catching a killer then."

"It's a cycle of betrayal." JJ, standing by the door with crossed arms, agreed aloud. "He attempted to shift the blame onto Oliver, something he also went through in the past."

Spencer nodded as he started to pace around the room. "Psychologically speaking, his actions seem to be rooted in a need for retribution, a manifestation of the punitive measures ingrained in his upbringing."

"So we're dealing with a man who sees himself as a guardian angel dispensing justice, even if it means resorting to extreme measures."

"A guardian angel while simultaneously executing his revenge," Emily mused from the other side, her words laced with a blend of contemplation and concern. "Very personal indeed."

Hotch crossed his arms as he stood by the table, and scrutinized his team with his usual detached and professional expression, devoid of any visible emotions. "We need to understand his patterns," he began. "If we can predict his next move, we might be able to intercept him."

"He clearly has a deep affection towards Y/n." Morgan offered, prompting Spencer to halt his pacing and turn his attention toward him at the mention of her name. "He probably has a list of people who he thinks have hurt her in the past."

Rossi studied everyone in the room, attentively listening to their thoughts. He tapped his finger against the wooden table, directing his focus on Morgan. "We should find out who might be on that list. It could give us insight into his next move."

Hotch agreed with a curt nod. "Morgan, Rossi, work on compiling a list of individuals connected to Y/n. Garcia, cross-reference it with Eric's history. Let's see if we can predict his next move based on the people he might target."

Garcia instinctively rose from her chair and nodded. "Yes, sir," and waltzed out of the room with determined steps, making her way to her office.

The others shifted from their spots, while Morgan, unlike the rest, kept his gaze on Spencer. He observed the frown stretching across his face and pondered whether to voice what he had in mind. He hesitated, acknowledging that Spencer's involvement with their witness wasn't strictly his business. Yet, considering the recent events, he felt compelled to express his thoughts.

"I don't want to be that kind of person to bear bad news, but I think—I think—there's a high chance that pretty boy here could be a target," Morgan declared. Spencer quickly met his gaze.

Everyone else, momentarily suspended in a collective pause, turned their attention toward him. He could feel their penetrating gaze, which started to make him uncomfortable as the seconds ticked by. He didn't want to entertain that possibility, but it made sense. Considering Eric had been with her right after he had hurt her, he could very well be the next target.

JJ, breaking the silence, voiced what lingered in everyone's thoughts as she took a step closer to him. "We should keep you safe then. If you're a potential target, we can't afford to overlook any possibility."

Spencer glanced over at her, noting the concern in her eyes. He sensed a silent plea in the way she looked at him as if she were urging him to agree, to step back and act on what seemed to be the logical thing to do. However, despite that, the gears in his mind were turning. If he was a potential target, it could offer an easy opportunity to get closer to their Unsub.

"No," he said, a conviction in his voice. "You can use me as bait."

The room held its breath as his unexpected proposal hung in the air. The team, still processing the revelation of his potentially being a target, turned their focus to his daring suggestion.

JJ simply stared at him, dumbfounded by the audacity of the idea. "You're crazy."

"No, think about it." He turned towards Hotch, knowing the older man would at least consider his idea. "We can get to him by luring him in."

Hotch held his gaze. The weight of leadership rested on his shoulders as he considered the risky proposition. "Reid, it's too dangerous. We can't—"

"If Eric believes he has a score to settle with me, then let's use that to our advantage. We set up a controlled scenario, anticipate his moves, and ensure we have the upper hand."

Emily looked at him with worry, taking a step forward from the other side of the room. "Reid, it's too risky. We don't know how he'll react, we can't even guarantee your safety."

"Yes, you can. You'll keep an eye on me." His eyes traveled around the room, meeting each one of their concerned gaze. "It's not something we haven't done before; we've used this method to lure an Unsub, and right now, we have no clue where he is. The only way we can draw his attention is by using me."

Hotch's gaze shifted between Spencer and the rest of the team, weighing the potential outcomes of such a high-stakes plan. It was undeniably risky, but Spencer was right. This wouldn't be their first time baiting an Unsub, and given their past success, a part of him believed the outcome would work out according to plan.

After a moment, he slowly nodded. "Alright, but if we proceed with this, we have to ensure everyone's safety." He gave Spencer a pointed look. "Especially yours, Reid."

He quickly nodded as a moment of understanding passed between them. The room suddenly filled with noise, and amidst the bustling movements, he felt a desperate grip on his arm, pulling him away from the group.

"Spence." JJ's grip tightened as she voiced her concern. "You could be putting yourself in danger. What if this goes wrong?"

That was the thing. It was the nature of their job—there would always be different outcomes. There was no certainty about what could transpire. But with nothing else to do, Spencer was growing desperate for more answers, so he held her gaze, determination etched in his eyes.

"If it means stopping him and knowing her whereabouts, I'm willing to take any risk."

It was raining when it happened. It had been pouring for the past few days as they started to plan the operation. The team decided to elevate the stakes by choosing his apartment as the bait location, aiming to create a scenario that would be emotionally charged for Eric, potentially triggering a faster and more decisive response.

They studied Eric's patterns and behaviors, gathering insights into his actions and motivations. Garcia, constantly stationed at her desk, continued to monitor social media, public records, and any other available data to gauge Eric's movements. She had identified potential triggers that might prompt Eric to act, such as media coverage or public discussions related to Y/n.

In addition to electronic surveillance, Morgan and JJ conducted physical surveillance on locations connected to Y/n's past, anticipating that Eric might revisit places with emotional significance. They strategically placed themselves in key positions, ready to observe and intercept any suspicious activity.

And then the clock ticked away, the minutes stretched into an agonizing waiting game, every second pregnant with anticipation.

Until it finally came to that night.

Everything felt strange. His apartment. The weather. Himself. The rain outside continued its steady rhythm, and Spencer watched the raindrops hit his windowpanes from his couch.

Weeks ago, he sat in the same place where he was now. The only difference was that he was alone. There was no faint smell of chocolate or the sweet melody of laughter. She wasn't here, gracing him with her smile as she nestled on his lap. Her whispers of his name were absent, and the cruel thing was, he didn't even know where she was now.

He had never felt so much pain before, the ache of not knowing where someone was, all the while having to keep his head up high. It was a facade he learned to put on. Pretending that the hidden cameras strategically placed in his apartment didn't unsettle him, or the discreetly wired microphone, or the inconspicuous headpiece nestled in his ear. He had to act as though the looming potential danger didn't faze him.

But then it finally happened, a sudden shift in the atmosphere permeated the air—like the calm before the storm. And in an instant, Garcia's voice crackled over the communication devices, urgency lacing her words. "I've got movement. Eric's online activity just spiked."

Morgan and Prentiss, stationed discreetly around the apartment complex, receiving the signal, tightened their surveillance. The external cameras around his building captured a figure approaching, shrouded in the shadows of the rainy night.

Within the confines of his home, his senses heightened. The rain outside intensified. A streak of lighting flashed through the window. A loud sound of thunder echoed in the background. Spencer waited with bated breath, his gaze fixated on the front door. Then, with a creak, it slowly swung open, revealing a silhouette of a figure in the doorway.

Water dripped from his clothes, leaving a trail of wetness as he crossed the threshold. Their eyes briefly locked, and a smile played on Eric's lips as he observed the way Spencer scrutinized him, closing the door behind him.

"Dr. Reid," his sinister tone sliced through the silence, his words dripping with a twisted sense of satisfaction. "I see you've been waiting for me."

Spencer watched him, maintaining a composed exterior despite the tension in the air, and met his gaze with a steely resolve. "And I see you've been busy."

Eric cocked an eyebrow.

"Carving your path of justice one victim at a time."

His expression remained unyielding. Stepping further into the room, Eric left a trail of dirty shoe marks on the floor as his eyes observed the dimly lit apartment. "I'm just doing what needs to be done."

Spencer slowly rose from his seat. "And what is that?"

"Punishing those who have wronged her."

"You're not her savior. You're a vigilante with a distorted sense of righteousness."

"And that's where you're wrong. You don't know the pain she's been through. I'm the only one who can protect her."

Spencer silently watched as he continued to survey his apartment. Eric's eyes swept through all the framed certificates on his wall, his finger delicately tracing the edge of each frame. When he was met with silence, Eric turned back to him, narrowing the distance between them.

"You were always the one she trusted, weren't you?" He shook his head with disdain. "Yet you're the one who hurt her the most."

Aware that each word could either defuse or escalate the situation, Spencer continued to engage him. "I haven't hurt her," he responded carefully. "I've been trying to protect her from someone like you, someone who's lost sight of justice."

Eric let out a scoff. "You think I've lost sight? No, Dr. Reid, I've found clarity. I've seen the darkness that lurks in the hearts of those who pretend to be righteous."

"Your version of justice is a perversion. You've become the monster you claim to fight against."

The room crackled with tension as they held each other's gaze. "Do you even listen to yourself?" Eric retorted, his eyes narrowing with accusation. "You claim to protect her, yet she's left alone in the darkness you couldn't save her from."

The air in the room seemed to thicken as the weight of his words hung between them. His heart quickened its pace while he tried to maintain a calm facade. "Where is she?"

Eric's laughter cut through the air. "You think I'll tell you voluntarily?"

Spencer's gaze remained steady on him. "What do you want?"

The sinister grin on Eric's face revealed a gambit. "You." He took another step closer. "Come with me and I'll take you to her..."

There was definitely a but. It was never that easy, and the way he trailed off his words prompted Spencer to ask, "On what condition?"

He smiled, eyes narrowing as he conveyed a sense of menace while he delivered his proposition.

"Cut off all communication with your team."

Tension lingered around the room like an invisible web, each word contributing to the growing stakes. Eric's laughter, a haunting sound, followed the slightly alarmed look on Spencer's face.

"You think I didn't know?" he taunted. "Two of your agents are outside this building, and come on, you could've hidden that earpiece better than that." He pointed towards the device. "Your hair might be long, but it's not that long."

Eric then picked up a framed picture sitting on his shelf. It was a photo of him and his team casually smiling to the camera. He remembered that day, it was one of the many times they visited Rossi's house for dinner, and Garcia decided it was the perfect time to capture the moment. To preserve the happy times, she had said, and true to her words, he was happy that day.

His mind suddenly raced, considering the options and potential consequences of complying with his demand. He finally responded. "What if I refuse?"

"Then you'll never find her," Eric retorted, looking back at him. "It's a simple choice. Sacrifice your precious communication or lose her forever."

He wanted him to step into his trap willingly. It was a cruel choice, and it seemed he wasn't the only one who agreed. As Eric's demand hung in the air, the team's voices crackled urgently through his earpiece. Panic and concern infused their words as they frantically implored him to reconsider.

"Spence, step back!"

"Reid, don't do it."

"Stand down, Reid. We're coming through."

The chorus of concerned voices reverberated in his earpiece, each team member contributing to their worry. Despite the chaos of emotions echoing through the line, Spencer remained outwardly composed, his mind working swiftly to navigate the dangerous situation.

"Don't—" he urged, his gaze piercing on Eric while his voice pointed towards his team. "Stay where you are."

Eric watched him with a predatory gleam in his eyes.

"Seems like your team is in quite a frenzy there. Are you really willing to risk her safety for their voices in your ear?" He continued with a sinister grin, reveling the chaos he had stirred. "Strip away your lifeline, Spencer. The battle is between you and me."

Spencer stood there, calculating his next move. He weighed the possible outcomes of his choices and realized that nothing good would come from either of them. Eric, observing his contemplation, smirked with a twisted satisfaction.

"Come on, Dr. Reid, time is ticking." He tapped the watch around his wrist. "Make up your mind."

Spencer inhaled a sharp breath. Eric was right, there was no time to waste. The more he contemplated his answer, the more danger she was in. He needed her safe. He needed to see her. He needed to know where she was. And there was only one way to find out.

At the other end of the line, Garcia, stationed at her desk, watched Spencer through the screen with a growing sense of urgency. His gaze slowly swept over the room, and she could sense the critical decision looming. Her heart raced as his eyes fell on one of the hidden cameras.

"He's onto us," she muttered to herself, her fingers flying over the keyboard. She tried to maintain the connection as he walked over to the device and unplugged it.

Garcia cursed under her breath. "No—" She pressed on her intercom, her voice tinged with frustration. "I'm losing him."

One by one, the video feeds from the hidden cameras in his apartment turned black. The loss of visual contact with each camera felt like a punch to the gut. Her frustration mounted as the screens blinked out, leaving her staring at a grid of darkness.

"No, no, no," she muttered, fingers dancing over the keyboard in a desperate attempt to reestablish connection. But there was nothing else she could do.

The earpieces crackled with an ominous quiet before a sudden crash echoed through, the sharp sound of impact reverberating. A groan. A thud. A grunt. The team exchanged alarmed glances in their respective locations as the audio crackled with static, and their heart raced at the uncertainty hanging in the air.

Then, abruptly, there was nothing else but silence.

>> NEXT PART

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sweet-evie · 6 months

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I have so many thoughts and headcanons about the Gojo clan... You have no idea. 😭 Also, I'm talking out of my ass and everything I say is fictional and from pure imagination... Don't take it seriously.

The Gojo clan may or may not span 40 generations based off of how long ago Suguwara Michizane lived...

and ummm... That's a lot of generational wealth 🤯.

Imagine if you married into that -- married Satoru Gojo. You're automatically the highest-ranking woman in the family, on top of having access to all that money. 😆

Listen, some of the world's richest families like the Rockefellers currently span 7 generations and they're worth billions of dollars.

Damn I really need a full backstory on the 3 major clans. I need to know how rich they are and how they maintained and/or grew that wealth until the modern day.

There's plenty of drama and info on the Zen'in clan. We get crumbs and pieces about the Kamo clan...

But info on the Gojo clan is close to nada, and I WANT TO KNOW MORE ABOUT THEM DAMMIT! I'm so thirsty for more worldbuilding in JJK, you have no idea.

At this point, just seeing Satoru's parents would make me happy.

I have a headcanon that Gojo's family, apart from being sorcerers and political powers in the jujutsu community, are probably mixed bags of company shareholders, politicians, lawyers, philantropists, etc.

Yeah, it's said that the Gojo clan is a one-man army that consists of Satoru Gojo, but I interpret that as Satoru outshining every other family member -- especially every other practicing sorcerer in the family. (There's simply no surpassing the wielder of the Six Eyes and the Limitless technique).

The Gojo clan is a sorcerer clan first and upper tier members of Japanese society second.

Some of Satoru's male relatives are probably Shinto and Buddhist monks. The point is to have a foothold in influential religions among non-sorcerers.

I like to think that maybe one sorcerer in the clan has Limitless... maybe his grandpa, but the man was never as efficient with it as Satoru Gojo.

Maybe the majority of the sorcerers in the Gojo clan fight with Grade 1 cursed tools and good-old hand-to-hand imbued with cursed energy. Maybe other cursed techniques exist within the Gojo clan too... It's all just overshadowed by Satoru.

I also think the Big 3 actually tend to keep to themselves (e.g., the Zen'ins having their own military unit). Their spawns don't ALL go to Jujutsu High, do they? It's a choice for them rather than a necessity. Like, Jujutsu High was established primarily for sorcerers who come from "somewhat normal" backgrounds, unlike people from the Big 3. Satoru was born into jujutsu sorcery and it's the only life he's ever known, whereas people like Suguru who come from non-sorcerer families are brought into Jujutsu Tech to learn about what it means to be a part of jujutsu society, and to teach them that they're not, you know, mentally ill because they can see curses.

Quick side note, I imagine Jujutsu Tech as the bridge between the branch of the Japanese government that is aware of the existence of curses and the jujutsu society as a whole. It just kind of makes sense that way, especially when you consider where their funds to pay people come from -- not from thin air, that's for sure. I mean, how else do the higher-ups get the funding to pay their actively practicing sorcerers, especially the special-grades? Does jujutsu sorcerer pay roll come from citizens' tax money?

Also... On top of Satoru Gojo having access to his clan's generational wealth and assets, how much is he getting paid as an instructor at Jujutsu Tech? Is that salary separate from his special-grade sorcerer salary? Is he technically working 2 full-time jobs?

Man is rolling in cash...

Anyway, I want to circle back to the point that Satoru Gojo is the most active sorcerer in the Gojo clan when it comes to interacting with the higher-ups and being a constant presence in Jujutsu Tech. Obviously, his fingerprints are all over Jujutsu society politics as well.

I headcanon that Satoru comes from a big family, actually. Satoru is an only child, but I imagine lots of cousins and aunts and uncles and distant relatives, and the Gojo estate is probably one massive compound where most of the family lives. Like, they can live in that huge ass ancestral property if they want too... There's plenty of room.

The clan also likely owns several other properties and probably small temples or shrines across Japan. They have one ancestral seat and other properties. That goes for the Kamo and the Zen'in clans as well.

That real estate portfolio be popping.

As for actual size, think Heian estate in ancient Japan big. It's expansive.

Maybe the sorcerers in the family would be fond of living in the Gojo estate. The others, especially the ones who hold positions in the government or the military or who have public-facing jobs have their own homes registered under their own name, and not... you know... registered under the family with the clan head.

Another headcanon is that the clan head is capable of assigning properties and other clan assets to family members if he chooses to. Satoru Gojo can give away houses if he wants too, like a nobleman or European feudal lord. But for real, the Gojo clan might have been part of the nobility in ancient Japan, only losing their noble titles after the Imperial family changed the rules around the 1940s.

Speaking of, it's probably not a reach to assume, that the clan head has his fingers in many many honey pots. 🍯 That is to say, Satoru Gojo has access to more money than he can spend in a single life time. And after he's passed, maybe the money just goes back to the surviving members of the clan.

I need to know Satoru Gojo's net worth.

I think each of the Big 3 has their own hierarchy and their own family politics. Again, the Zen'ins are a prime example...

For the Gojo clan, I headcanon that there's a small council of elders -- people way older than Satoru. Satoru's own father is probably part of that. Put his grandfather and a couple of uncles and aunts in there too.

How do they work? I imagine it's pretty similar to how the Small Council functions in Game of Thrones. Like, there's someone in charge of managing finances, someone who keeps an ear on clan politics, someone who has a foothold in the national military, etc.

I imagine they have a bi-weekly gathering. They offer counsel, but the final decision in any dilemma they discuss always falls to the clan head -- Satoru Gojo.

I also headcanon that Satoru has a penthouse somewhere in Tokyo -- a place he considers as his own residence, away from clan politics and the rest of his probably snobby family.

But Satoru is always busy, so his penthouse is way too clean. It looks like no one lives there.

This is the vibe of the penthouse... I have his penthouse in my Sims 4 game.

Speaking of snobby... The Gojo's clan general reputation? I would say... They're intellectual people, some of them are likely obsessed with history, and rigid and formal when it comes to observing traditions. I imagine they have a tendency to be really elegant.

Whenever the Zen'ins look at them, the stereotypical thought is, "Look at those pompous, snobby, jackasses."

In the succeeding years since December 7, 1989, the Gojo clan's sense of pride has only grown, because well... The most powerful and strongest sorcerer of the modern age came through their lineage.

Needless to say, Satoru Gojo is the pride and power of the Gojo clan.

Satoru's parents were practicing Grade 1 sorcerers... really active in the field, and Satoru's grandfather was Clan Head for a time.

Satoru's mom retired from fieldwork after she married Satoru's dad and after she got pregnant and became a mom. I love my headcanon that she's a shrewd politician and is all about maintaining good standing with the elders while doing intelligence gathering. The woman maintains a network, so she's always in-the-know.

Satoru doesn't make it easy for his mom especially when he goes around and does what he wants. e.g., Becoming a benefactor to Megumi, saving Yuji and Yuta, etc. She's actively working to cover his tracks wherever she can.

Satoru's mom is actively looking for a wife for him, for obvious reasons. The plan never came to fruition because of the Shibuya incident and Ch #236.

Satoru's father is more politician than actively practicing sorcerer by the time Satoru was studying in Jujutsu Tech. He's all about maintaining solid relations with the other clans, the elders, and collaborating with the branch of Japanese government that knows of the existence of jujutsu sorcery. He probably works with the Japanese government too.

Satoru Gojo visits the family estate once in a while... for other business, but primarily for hearings and clan meetings. It's peculiar to look at during these meetings because Satoru is the only person in that room who isn't wearing traditional clothes. Like, I headcanon that he shows up in casual attire, or his Jujutsu Tech uniform, complete with the blindfold.

His mom probably tried to talk him into wearing traditional clothes for these meetings when he was younger, but it just never stuck. Satoru is Satoru, after all.

After Satoru Gojo passes away, I like to imagine the Gojo clan takes a bit of a backseat. It's probably the wiser course of action too, considering everything that's happened in Japan after October 31, 2018.

[I know some people think he's the only survivor of the Gojo clan, but you gotta think of the fact that he learned about Hollow Purple from some people. Someone taught him FBE as a kid.]

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk imagines #jjk headcanons #jjk #gojo satoru headcanons #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #wbad blog #wbad fanfiction #gojo clan

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god-complex-12 · 3 months

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Atychiphobia

— Paring; Capt. John Price x male reader. Fandom; Call of Duty: Modern Warfare II

Atychiphobia: (n.) fear of failure; fear of not being good enough

Quote; “You’re perfect.” “Not anymore.”

Description; An Angel falling in love with a human is sinful is the face of judgment, and is to be dissipated. Disclaimer; Reader is an Angel. Religious based. Christianity. Talks of sinning. Reader is a fallen Angel. Descriptions of pain. Not an accurate representation of the religion. God is referred to as “Father”. Kissing. Tears. Praying. Begging for forgiveness. More of the reader’s relationship with God rather than the reader’s relationship with John. Religious trauma.

Word Count: 0.6k

Masterlist

Over the hundreds and hundreds of years Y/N has lived, he has never once thought he would find himself here. Y/N loved being a Guardian Angel. He found a passion for protecting those who deserve it, and that feeling of joy he got when his Father assigned him to a human was indescribable. It was no different when he was assigned Jonathan Price.

As the Angel slowly worked his way into the man’s life, over years of working with him. He found an attachment to the man, but brushed it off because he does that with every human. He finds himself in Task Force 141, second in command to Captain John Price. Though it wasn’t hard for the Angel to work himself up to that status and he could even surpass Jonathan, but he doesn’t need a high status. All Y/N needs is to watch over this man.

“Jonathan, you shouldn’t smoke so much.” Y/N said, placing a warm cup of tea onto his desk.

John’s eyes flickered to meet Y/N’s. “Why do you call me that?” He asked suddenly, putting out the cigar in the ashtray. “You’re the only person I know that calls me by my full name.”

Y/N smiled warmly and shrugged. “I’ve just grown accustomed to it.”

Then there was a brief silence. They stared at each other, almost longingly. John breaks away first with a deep breath. He straightens himself in his seat and grabs the cup. “Thank you, Y/N. For the tea.”

Y/N nodded. “Do you need any help?”

John paused, looking over at the paperwork. He knew he could finish it within an hour, but he wanted Y/N to stay.

It seemed with every passing second they grew closer. Accidental touches turned into purposeful ones. A tension growing with each glance stolen, begging to be snapped. Those late night meetings, turning into late night talks, turning into something more intimate.

Y/N’s hand holds the side of John’s neck as they kiss. The other kept him propped up on the desk. John is standing between Y/N’s legs, his hands on the Angel’s thighs. John pulls back only to whisper, “You’re perfect.”

Y/N hopes his Father will forgive him for this. He shook his head. “Not anymore..” He whispered back, but before John could respond, Y/N’s lips found his.

But in the face of judgment, his Father had no mercy. Y/N was dissipated from heaven the minute he got to report back. The Angel finds himself kneeled in his room with an unfathomable pain shooting from his back as his wings are ripped from his body completely. Even if it can’t be seen, it can be felt. He’s biting his own hand to muffle his screams as he writhes in pain. Blood soaks into his shirt and he finds himself clawing desperately to get off.

Y/N shakily pulls himself to his knees, resting his head on the side of his bed. He puts his hands together and whispers a prayer through his pained sob. He failed to notice his barrack door open.

“Y/N?” John asked, terrified by the bloodied sight before him. He rushed to Y/N’s side. “Y/N what happened?”

Y/N doesn’t respond as he continues to beg for forgiveness from a God who is doubtful to listen.

————

Part II

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burnt-coffeepot · 2 months

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otdgxooztoxhoxjixhicg yes yes yeeeessss homoeroticism and christianuty and the machine that surpasses humanity and then surpasses religion itself YESS

#ultrakill #ultrakill fanart #gabv1el

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gtsdreamer2 · 6 months

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The church of Dommon was always looking for new followers. No one knew how or when the demoness was summoned, only that when she manifested on the mortal plane, a religion was formed around her. Her worshippers granted her power, and, in return, she shared a portion of her power with each follower. Those she liked more, received special blessings. Her congregation met on Saturdays, and this was the chance for her followers to bask in the presence of their god, and to hopefully receive her favor.

"My children," The demonness started, "It has been many years since I have come to this realm. As you can see, all of your love, and devotion, and worship has made me grow into this deity of a demon." She gestured to her hulking form. The demon was about twenty-five feet in height and thick from constant feasts and her lazy status. Her dark red skin shined without a blemish and her huge pendulous breasts leaked constant milk. This sweet nectar was what her followers sought after. As she grew from the worship of her flock, so did the amount of milk that she could produce. and this milk caused the drinker to in turn grow, much like the demon herself. Those who partook of the creamy gift grew stronger and more demonlike. They were looked apon faborably in this new society as well, The bigger the better.

Aimee was by far Dommon's most devout follower. She had never missed a sermon and always recieved the "Devil's blessing". Today was no different. She sat up front, blocking the view of the three seats behind her with her height and width. As of this moment in time, she was now eighteen feet in height. She had small protrusions on her back, the beginning of wings, matching the nubs on her head that would soon be horns. Her skin had begun to shine and redden, mimicking the demoness from whom she fed.

"I don't know what it is that I have done to deserve all of this worship from you all, but as I have always stated, I am humbled by my followers and it is my duty as your deity to give back what I can. Come and feed from me! I feel exceptionally bountiful this evening!" First in line, as always, was Aimee. She approached Dommon and did the ceremonial bow. Dommon in turn presented her full chest. Diving right in, Aimee latched on and began to suckle, noticing right away that the supply she was receiving was far greater than it had been the week before. 'She must have gotten some new followers.' She thought to herself between the great gulps she was taking. 'I'm going to suck this demon dry again.' Meanwhile Dommon was lost in the pleasure of being suckled by her favorite follower, far too distracted to notice how much milk Aimee was taking in and what it was doing to her.

Aimee could feel her blood pumping as her muscles pulsed larger. 'Something is happening to me.' She thought, gaining two feet of height in the span of as many minutes. Dommon's followers watched with jealousy, not daring to interrupt the ritual. She began to suck harder, trying to get as much milk as she could before suddenly switching to the other engorged tit, eliciting a forced moan from the demoness.

"Mmmph, yes my child, feed till you're full. This is my gift to you." She said, more aroused at this point than thinking about the consequences of what was happening. With a fresh supply rushing down her throat, Aimee could feel the surge resurging and accelerating as she let out her own moan. Her skin darkened another couple shades as her top ripped off of her. At the same time her pants split. Twenty-one, Twenty-two, Twenty-four, Twenty-six. Her height kept increasing. The demon was still lost in pleasure as she was suddenly smaller than her follower. As soon as Aimee surpassed Dommon in height, there was a shift in the room.

"The little winglets protruding from Aimee's back suddenly sprouted. they flapped back and forth as Aimee flexed her back. Her horns grew from nubs to great pointed antlers, proudly on display. She let out another moan as she could feel all the eyes of Dommon's followers on her. No...That wasn't right. They weren't Dommon's followers. Not anymore. She could FEEL it. Their devotion. It was pouring into her like a great waterfall.

Only now did Dommon snap out of her ritualistic trance. She could feel the power fading from her. It was surrendering itself to her previous worshipper. Dommon suddenly shrunk five feet. "What's happening to me!?" She shouted, her breasts shrinking with her and no longer producing the blessing. Aimee unlatched now and let out a powerful laugh.

"You've been usurped, that's what!" Aimee had been twenty-seven feet just from her previous god's favor, but now, all the love and devotion and worship from her new congregation was fueling her further. She grew and grew and grew while Dommon shrunk. At forty feet, the twelve foot demoness looked positively puny beneath her. "Worship me!" Aimee roared, forcing Dommon between her legs to sevice her. The weakened demoness had no choice but to obey, licking and sucking and suffocating against the massive womanhood before her. Aimee grinded herself against Dommon's face until she finished with a loud crescendo and another growth spurt, gushing all over the humiliated ex-god's face, and putting her at forty-five feet, nearly breaking out of the church. Her massive breasts now leaking the same blessing that she had previously used to ascend to goddesshood.

"Go." She commanded. "Take your seat in the pews with the rest of my followers. I need to rest." Aimee closed her eyes and dreamed about outgrowing the church...And everything else.

#gts #giantess #size kink #sizetumblr #size difference #growth #gts writing #writing prompt

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swankyahbri · 9 months

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So modesty is now something that I admire and it took forever bc as women, we’re often taught that showing our bodies off and wearing provocative clothing is “eMpOwErMeNt”. When in reality is just another way men get to get a view without having to commit, surpass our standards, and treat us with respect. When you think abt it, the world only encourage women to dress this way and if you do the opposite then you’re a “prude”, “a slave to religion” or even “that you’re insecure”

It’s sickening 🤮

Modesty is a beautiful thing.

Modesty is sexy.

Modesty is how you treat others.

Modesty is your mindset.

Modesty is your speech choices.

Modesty is your clothing choices.

Modesty is even how you treat yourself.

Biblical modesty is beautiful.

Men should be modest too.

Modesty isn’t boring.

You are much more than the skin you choose to show.

Don’t let others tell you ladies otherwise 🩷🤝🏾

Luv y’all 🫶🏾🫶🏾

*if you don’t agree, scrolling is free 😘

#modesty #soft black girls #black women #bougie black girl #black woman femininity #rich black women #black girl magic #black girls are beautiful #black women in leisure #black woman appreciation #christian girl

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y-rhywbeth2 · 2 months

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Lore: Baldur's Gate #1

Link: Disclaimer regarding D&D "canon" & Index [tldr: D&D lore is a giant conflicting mess. Larian's lore is also a conflicting mess. You learn to take what you want and leave the rest]

The City #1 | The City #2 | Administration & Government | ??? - WIP

Might as well start compiling lore on the namesake of the game...

Featuring the city aesthetic (the depiction of it in-game wasn't nearly grey, damp or claustrophobic enough) and a mostly complete overview of the city and its major areas: the Lower City, Upper City, Outer City, Undercellar and Undercity.

Cultural titbits: like why you can't have animals bigger than peacocks; that you shouldn't live here if you have claustrophobia; how the Patriars clearly have it out for people with hay fever; the constant mould problem; where to go to get a glowing tattoo, a fake tan and the magical equivalent of a plastic surgeon; and why, in fairness to the Banites, the city requires very little effort to turn into a nightmarish police state under the control of an evil deity.

And if your Dark Urge is a sewer gremlin then that's a life choice they're making, not a Bhaalist thing: the Undercity isn't in the sewers.

The city state of Baldur's Gate is one of Faerûn's more important ports, situated geographically between the massive trade centres of Athkatla and Waterdeep. It began its life as a fusion of the early fishing hamlet of Loklee (formed around 0 DR) and the pirate and smuggler hub that formed nearby. It was a popular port with a shipyard and visitor's wharves by 204 DR. The natural harbour the man-made harbour is built on is one of the only places in hundreds of miles that's safe for ships to dock at.

Due to the lack of nearby settlements to form competition, the trade hub attained city status and import early in its existence. It briefly fell under the early kingdom of Shavinar, though this was mostly a technicality and the settlement continued to govern itself and continued to do so when the kingdom fell in 277 DR.

The area was first officially recognised in the history books as the city of of Baldur's Gate in 446 DR.

The primary spoken language of the Gate is Chondathan, however during the Spellplague the city attracted enough refugees to become one of Faerûn's most populated cities, and it's a diverse enough location that many people are at least bilingual (not counting Common): many speak Chondathan, their native/ancestral language and a third.

As a major port the city has always been something of a melting pot and encouraged a policy of tolerance - you don't want to drive away merchants and trade, after all. Likewise, in the interests of encouraging trade, the city has enforced a stance of political neutrality and refuses to be drawn into international problems.

Officially, the city prides itself on being welcoming to all ways of life, to the point where anyone and anything goes as long as they obey the laws and don't rock the boat; even the open worship of the majority evil gods is completely unremarkable - what if you want to trade with a place where those gods are a major religion, after all? While Umberlee is worshipped everywhere near the sea (under threat of tidal waves and drowning in retribution for not worshipping her), Baldur's Gate is one of the few places she has an actual temple.

A shrine to any god - regardless of what their faith does or preaches - can be established in any of the temple districts for public worship, and the law will pay it no mind.

This reputation for tolerance and neutrality means it tends to be one of the first choices for refugees and immigrants looking for a new start. The city is extremely crowded, with many people packed into tight spaces and narrow streets, and its population numbers surpassed the metropolis of Waterdeep decades ago; standing at 42,103 people in the 14th century, it has likely more than doubled since. Visitors often find it incredibly - possibly intolerably - loud and busy, while locals consider them to be backwater farmers who don't know what civilisation looks like.

While the city doesn't discriminate legally against any groups, its reputation for tolerance is somewhat overexaggerated. Peoples who are viewed as monstrous by the Realms at large, such as orcs and other goblinoids, or drow, can expect to feel unwelcome as with everywhere else. The recent wave of unwanted human refugees from Calimshan have a strained relationship with the established Baldurians, who view them as foreign and wish they'd just assimilate and start speaking Chondathan already. The city is a human settlement by culture and demographics, retaining its historical human majority, and while the demihuman minorities are part of mundane everyday life, there have been incidents such as in the early 14th century, which saw the rise of The Sure Helm: a human supremacy group who had an issue with the non-humans in their society and were known to carry out hate crimes on the likes of half-elves and half-orcs if they thought they could get away with it.

On a slightly saner note: you have the freedom of religion to worship a god who demands slaves and blood sacrifice, but it's a bad idea to advertise that... Or get caught slaving and murdering, unless you're a very high ranking priest.

Local bards tend to refer to the city as the Cresent moon in their lyrics and poems, after the shape of the city layout. The musical traditions of the Gate focus on "brassy-voiced tenors" and "delightfully smoky altos".

Baldurians frown on drunk, debauched and disorderly behaviour in public: there's no space for this nonsense and you're keeping everybody on the street awake.

The gate has an array of cosmetic services available in the markets of the Wide, where - as well as mundane tattooists and piercers - one can hire wizards in the market to perform cosmetic alterations with transmutation magic: glowing tattoos and other strange illusions, tans, magically affixing gems and jewellery like pieces to your body, changing hair colour, texture and style, changing your eye colour, altering your height or your weight or your sexual dimorphism, etc etc.

It's considered bad luck to harm a cat. Many of the animals moved into the area by hitching a ride on sea traffic, and as they're extremely useful for keeping vermin down both on land and at sea, Baldurians are fond of them.

If you need help carrying your shopping or finding somewhere in the city, most street corners have youths known as "lamp boys" and "lamp lasses" you can hire - so called because of the lanterns they carry at night. With the founding of the newspaper you can also find them hawking the daily papers.

The trade the city brings is the lifeline of the Sword Coast (South), and the only place one can buy foreign and luxury goods in the entire region. That said, these goods come at a significant mark up compared to the prices you'd find in Waterdeep or anywhere in Amn.

The majority of silver trade bars (bars of metal used in place of coins, for ease of transport) are made in the Gate, and the city sets the standards for this form of currency.

The city has always been heavily policed, and is known for being quiet and one of the safest cities in Western Faerûn; Baldurians don't expect much if any major disruption to the city's day-to-day life.

The city has its own City Watch - member of the watch being readily identified by their black helms, bearing a red stripe down one side - however the Flaming Fist Mercenary Company is the first thing that comes to mind when you mention law enforcement; you can barely go more than an hour without seeing at least one uniformed officer.

The City Watch used to be the city's police force, however by the end of the 15th century the Fist has taken on much of their role, and the Watch now functions purely as the private law keepers of the Upper City. They are permitted to live within the Upper City, and positions in the watch are now mostly hereditary.

Even when the Watch was the official city police the Fist boasted an army a thousand strong. By the start of the 15th century the Fist had taken over city patrols in a semi-official capacity. The two groups also overlap, and many of the Watch are also secretly members of the Fist. One in ten people in the gate - Watch or otherwise - are spies and informants for the mercenary company.

They may not be fully reliable as a police force however, as they are known to chose not to deal with some problems, declaring it a problem for the watch to deal with. Notably they do not police the Outer City and refuse to touch anything involving the Undercellar.

The Flaming Fist also has outposts in other realms, where it guards the foreign trade interests of the city, such as Fort Beluarian (a hamlet of 313 people) in the jungles of Chult on the Southern end of Faerûn. Being mercenaries, they are available for hire for any purpose that isn't considered flat out evil.

Of course the heavy policing and massive police presence, to anybody who cares to look closer at the city's outward appearance of security, is a giant tip-off that the city has a thriving underworld. The Thieves Guild is an ever-present force, and the religious tolerance means that there are a lot of other organised crime syndicates (ie the priests), murderers and extortion rackets running around. Such organisations keep close diplomatic ties to the Grand Dukes and the commander of the Flaming Fist.

The weather conditions are typically rain, sleet or fog depending on season and time of day, and the streets and buildings are almost constantly wet either from the weather or the sea. The architecture is almost entirely stone, as it's less likely to rot. The streets are often slippery, and straw or gravel from the river is sometimes thrown over the cobbles for grip. The citizens take advantage of the moisture and damp to use their cellars to cultivate edible fungi. Damp, mould and mildew are a common menace, but it did lead a wizard named Halbazzer Drin to make his fortune by inventing spells that banishes mildew (12gp per casting) and dry out an area without damaging anything (10gp), so services exist if you need to hire them. The spell is not known outside of the city; Drin refused to sell knowledge of the spell to anyone for any price or offer. Due to the damp, the streets have no banners or other hanging fabrics around.

Buildings tend to be tall and narrow, with shuttered slit windows placed high up, which will be firmly shut at night and all day in winter, to keep out the gales and invading gulls looking for places to nest. The extremely narrow streets of the Lower City are full of window planters and hanging baskets of flowers, providing the sole spot of colour amongst the grey. As the city streets are so steep and narrow, the city has a ban on allowing animals larger than a dog into the city (it's too difficult for them to navigate and likely to cause traffic issues).

Boxed in by its thick, heavily fortified city walls and with no space to expand the city has largely built upwards, and the streets are filled with stone buttresses and arches supporting the upper floors.

Due to its stony architecture and frequent overcast, the entire city is often referred to as the Grey Harbour by residents. (This is also the name of the actual city harbour)

The city is built into the chalk white cliffs around the harbour, growing in elevation until the settlement stops at the outermost walls.

By the 15th century, the city was firmly divided into the Lower and Upper Cities, the latter of which is built into the highest elevation, cut off by a wall. In the population boom that followed the mass immigration of Spellplague refugees, many people were forced to make space for themselves outside of the walls, building the Outer City. Beneath the city lies the Undercellar

Descending from the Undercellar is a labyrinth of tunnels leading down into caverns buried beneath Baldur's Gate; housing the ruins of a forgotten era, where the Temple of Bhaal stands over the ruins, surrounded by the restless spirits and walking corpses of undead residents ancient and brand new.

The Lower City houses most of the city, crafts and trade.

With the narrow spaces, cliffs, tall buildings and arches, the city can get rather dark at night. What public lighting is available is maintained by the citizens themselves. The wealthier parts of the Lower City, like Bloomridge, use oil and wick copper bowls, while poorer areas make do with candles in tin lanterns, usually such things are mounted on the walls and ceilings of the darkest corners; but when you want to navigate at night you'll usually be hiring lamp lads.

The Grey Harbour is one of Toril's most famous and best ports, frequented by legitimate merchant captains and pirates alike; many of the families living on the docks are the families of sailors. The area is very industrialised, sporting the shipyard, multiple cranes and railway tracks used to facilitate the moving of goods. The most notable structures are the Harbourmaster's Office, a tiny building with barred windows that deals with all trades and taxes - and the Water Queen's House at the end of the pier, which everybody with a brain makes offerings to and nobody looks too closely at whatever the Umberlant priests get up to in there, because the vast majority of people like breathing.

The Gate has little in the way of large fanciful festivals, but specific streets in the Lower City are prone to a centuries old tradition of "cobble parties", where the people living on a street pull up some chairs, benches and barrels and gather outside to share a mild drink, tell stories and chat. An ongoing cobble party can be recognised by the bright rose-red torches that are hung up along the street walls - these torches are made at Felogyr's Fireworks and can be bought almost anywhere in the city.

Bloomridge is as close the Upper City as you can get without actually gaining access, and houses the Gate's middle class. It was initially built in elevated platforms cimbing up the Upper City's walls using magic and Gondian engineering. It's various attractions - including fanciful architecture, florists, artisanal boutiques, fancy open-air kaeth houses (cafes) and dining houses (restaurants; also known as "skaethars" or "feasthalls"), and elaborate hanging gardens and floral arcades - made it attractive to those with wealth but no pedigree.

The district expanded as those who could afford to do so began purchasing and razing the original, less fancy buildings in the vicinity and building estates on the ground where they used to stand. Those who can't quite afford that instead opt to live in high class apartment buildings and flats over the local businesses. Buildings here often have rooftop gardens and balconies with pleasant vistas.

The Upper City is located in the oldest quarter of the city, the Lower City being built outside of the walls and stretching down to the harbour and then having the lower city walls constructed around it. The only gate connecting the two halves is the eponymous Baldur's Gate, the first of the many city gates constructed. It's also heavily guarded and the only gate by which outsiders may access the Upper City; there are numerous smaller gates, but they are exclusively used by patriars and those bearing family livery or bearing a letter of employment signed by a patriar. This district houses the Gate's oldest and most powerful families: anyone who isn't a patriar is either a servant or a watchman, who will most likely be a member of a family that has served a patriar family/the Upper City for generations. The exceptions tend to be a handful of the most successful and affluent business owners whose businesses have become popular enough with the nobility to be welcomed in. Every business and city service in this district exists to serve the upper class exclusively.

It's the most open and colourful part of the city; the shutters and doors are painted in fresh, vibrant paints. The streets are broad and well lit with ornate enchanted lamps; the terrain is mostly flat, unlike the streets of the Lower City, which can often resemble giant staircases.

Businesses that would cause unpleasant smells are banned from the area, and the Upper City maintains many gardens, windowsill planters and trellises where flowers bloom and fill the air with pleasant scents (unless you have hay fever, anyway). Wandering minstrels provide ambient music as they wander the streets - usually a singer playing a lute or harp accompanied by a flutist and perhaps a drummer who may provide a chorus.

They've also got drains, so the streets are less inclined to flood or turn to mud the way the rest of the city is.

There are no inns or alehouses here: a noble who wishes to drink will either host a party, attend a private club, or go slumming in the Lower City.

The Upper City houses the High Hall, also known as the ducal palace; the administrative building that provides a place for feasts, court hearings and government meetings. The meeting rooms are and have always been open for public use, however there is a rule that states you cannot rent a meeting room there twice within 48 hours (to stop people from monopolising the rooms). The High Hall used to be a more grim, military building but has since been renovated to appear more bright and friendly as a PR stunt following a giant riot over taxes.

The other two of the city's temples are located in the Upper City, the Lady's Hall - a Temple of Tymora - and the High House of Wonders, the temple of Gond (who is near enough the city's patron god). The building serves various purposes: a temple, workshops, factories and laboratories. When something deemed ready for the eye is released it can usually be viewed in the Hall of Wonders: a science museum across the street to the temple.

It's also where the Gate's largest marker - the Wide - is situated. It's the only large open space in the city, and the only open air market. Outside of festivals, performances and music is banned in the area. The Wide is usually packed with people forced to stand shoulder-to-shoulder, and those who are hired to perform deliveries in the Wide are always tall and large, capable of seeing over the heads of the throngs and pushing their way through. Goods are carried atop tall poles that are strapped to the deliverymen's chests or backs. Prices are lowest in the Wide compared to anywhere else, and any transactions that cannot be performed within a licensed store must take place here by law.

Permits to rent space in the Wide for the day are limited, and they usually go to whoever has the money to bribe the bailiff, watchmen and other officials who have sway in over the market's administration - which is usually the merchants of the Upper City.

As well as the usual fare of goods, the Wide offers a large range of cosmetic services including the mundane body modifications and stylists that one would find on Earth, and more esoteric concepts that can only be accomplished with magic; such services and the artisans who provide them are seasonal and ever changing. The Wide is the most colourful spot in the city, and the only place that's the exception to the lack of banners and other hanging fabrics. Historically the Wide was open all day and night, but in recent times the watch has been closing the area at dusk - nobody except for the patriars may have use of the Upper City after dark.

The Wide is only closed if the area must be used for something else, such as public Highharvestide festivals... or because a patriar decided to close it off for private use, such as a ball or wedding.

Just outside of the market area is the rest of the Upper City's commercial area; stores, insurance offices, trade guildhalls, Ramazith's tower and the public entrance to the Undercellar - a flight of stone stairs leading down to a pair of heavy oak doors at the southern edge of the market. The doors are shut, but the Undercellar never closes and if you knock somebody will open them and usher you inside.

The Undercellar is a maze of underground passages lying beneath the city - mostly vaulted stone chambers created from the interconnected and abandoned cellars of the old Upper City, with hidden exits all over the city. Those who know where these exits are tend to guard them jealously, but may be willing to allow the Thieves' Guild access for coin or service. The Guild itself controls a fair few of these exits, and has been working on expanding the network.

It's also the playground for the criminal underworld of the Gate. The Undercellar's public image is that of a rather unprincipled festhall (a specific form of adult entertainment venue in the Realms that serves as a fusion of casino, bar, lounge, spa, brothel, playground, BDSM scene, LARPing club and so forth), which in a way, it is. Due to its dangerous reputation, it's incredibly popular, especially with those who are trying to look edgy and dangerous (particularly teenagers).

If one is openly carrying weapons, you can expect the armed guards stationed in the room to start following you closely; otherwise they'll leave you be. The guards are unlikely to care much about any disturbances, so long as they don't start disrupting everybody's business. Customers are not to venture further into the Undercellar without permission and an escort.

And behind that edgy, but mostly harmless veneer visitors play at and never see past is the real Undercellar, which is every bit as dark as its rumoured to be.

The Guild has its offices down here, and other rooms are used for varying purposes by other criminals. Want to put a hit on somebody, watch somebody get murdered in a Bhaalist red room, smuggle people or whatever crimes against humanity you feel like seeking out, this'd be the place to do it.

The Undercellar is policed by nobody except the criminals who do their work down there; whatever might take place down there, neither the Watch nor the Fists have any desire to know about them if you try and bring them to light. Want to avoid bad things? Don't get involved with the Undercellar.

The sprawling, pitch-black maze - if one knows how to navigate it - is a good way to get around the Upper City without detection. Somewhere down there is a passage that goes deeper, leading further into the earth and into the Undercity.

The Undercity is, clue in the name, the dead remains of a city buried beneath the living Baldur's Gate (specifically the original city that became the Upper City). At its heart is the Temple of Bhaal, and the city is inhabited by Bhaalists, alive and dead; the original, now undead, inhabitants of the undercity and any victims of the temple that have joined them.

The Outer City, Cliffgate and Blackgate are not technically parts of the city, being constructed outside of them.

The soil surrounding the city is little use for agriculture, but it is sufficient for grazing, so most farmers are the likes of shepherds and cattle farmers. As livestock and large animals are not permitted inside the city, cattle markets, stables and such businesses will be found there. Many of the less pleasant businesses, such as butchers and tanners, have relocated here to spare the rest of the city the smell and mess.

Much of the structures are semi-permanent in nature, and the areas are not subject to official oversight or in possession of any particular infrastructure. They aren't policed by the Fist or the watch, the area is near enough lawless, and crime is frequent. "Security" tends to be overseen by the Guild, and while the government doesn't tax outside the walls, residents still have to pay their dues to the local thieves and thugs.

The Outer City is as crowded as the Lower City, but less sanitary or orderly: these places are dirty, loud, smell a lot and tend to be quite dangerous. Many of the residents are farmers, criminals and foreigners and immigrants of varying generation who can't afford or find a place in the city proper.

The Blackgate is the historical slum area, and grew around the inland-facing Black Gate to the North West, growing around the Trade Way connecting The Gate to Waterdeep.

The Tumbledown district, located in Cliffgate outside the city gate of the same name, is the middle child of the expansions, leading down the cliffs. The land was owned by the Szarr family generations ago, before they were all (supposedly) slaughtered by a rival family in the night. Tumbledown is an extremely foggy area, full of graveyards and tombs, and rumours abound that the ghosts of the dead Szarrs haunt the streets there and steal people away. People do disappear there, but most people are sceptical that it's due to ghosts.

The Outer City is a newer, larger slum that grew around the Basilisk Gate and spread along the Coast Way - the road between the Gate and Athkatla - as the city population exploded at the end of the 14th century.

Immigrant communities have taken the opportunity to build their own settlements in the Outer City, styled in their own architectural styles, such as Little Calimshan; a tenement on Wyrm's Crossing is exclusively occupied by halflings; Whitkeep houses a gnomish community who does most of the city's tinsmithing; half-orcs lodge in Stoneyes; a shield dwarven community is located in Shieldgate.

These communities are considered outsiders by most Baldurians, and generally there's no love lost between those inside the walls and outside.

#...the Durge player in me is looking at all the various ways one could go undercover as an assassin I must admit #Karlach is actually a good example of how surnames work in the Realms: she was born/raised in Cliffgate so it's her “surname”#long post

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damianstarbradley · 7 months

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the twelfth house

when Alice Sparkly Kat wrote about the twelfth house she said "The best way to work with the twelfth house is to follow ghosts". viewing the twelfth house through this lens resonates with me as someone with twelfth house emphasis and an interest in the paranormal.

when I think of the twelfth house I picture the black lodge from twin peaks. it seems ominous and scary at first but it ultimately is something happening behind the scenes, much like how I view ghosts. being haunted by a ghost, like the twelfth house, is scarier than it seems. ghosts are malleable; you can make ghosts go away by simply asking them to. in this sense, the planets in the twelfth house are the ghosts we are haunted by. twelfth house is where all things begin and end. it isn't life and death, that is the eighth house. once something has happened it is over and it cannot hurt us anymore, like a ghost.

I'm currently reading the twelfth house by Karen Hamaker-zondag where she analyzes the twelfth house through a jungian viewpoint. she writes about how babies spend at least one year in the unconscious world during infancy as their brain develops. we absorb the energies and emotions of our parent and the collective through our unconscious minds because our infant brain has no repression mechanism. in other words, our brain cannot protect itself during the first few years of life.we have no memory of what happened during this time but on some level, we know the truth.

the sun in the twelfth house can represent a missing father figure early in life -- the father may have been absent mentally emotionally or physically -- in worst cases the father dies or is separated from the child due to a divorce, in other cases he is disinterested or doesn't have the energy for the children. maybe he comes home from work late, too tired to offer the child any attention or affection, or he avoids responsibility of the child, filling his time doing odd jobs about the house, not contributing much to the household. in many cases the sun can show a very dominant mother figure to devalues and demeans the father.

the result is a deep longing to find oneself. you dont know who you are, what you like or who you want to be, or you are embarrassed of or ashamed of who you are and what you like especially if mercury is involved or there is a link to the fifth house (ex fifth house ruler in twelfth house).

moon in twelfth house indicates an emotionally or physically absent mother figure. she could have spent some time in the hospital for a significant time after childbirth, or suffered postpartum depression preventing her from offering the child warmth and closeness it craves. other times the mother has a difficult relationship with her own mother, or struggles to accept her role as a mother.

in this case the child is hyperaware of others emotions so much that it surpasses its own. you could feel out of touch with your own feelings or not feel anything entirely. sometimes you feel everything and nothing all at once. the emotions of your mother/mother figure are subconsciously tied in with your own so much that you are unable to separate them. you long for the sense of security you have been missing all of your life.

one is not required to fend off the ghosts of their past. in the case of Neptune in the twelfth house the individual is highly attached to their ghosts and learns to live with them. Neptune in the twelfth house, on the ascendent or a connection between Neptune and the twelfth house can show a person who is more likely to suffer from paranoia, phobias and obsessive -- many find it necessary to stay connected to the spiritual realm through spirituality, religion, hellenistic/alternative medicines, yoga, dream work etc.

#twelfth house #astrology #12h #astro notes #astrology thoughts #astrology observations #astrology readings #zodiac #alice sparkly kat #astrology community #moon in 12th house #sun in 12th house #8th house #12th house #neptune #neptune in 12th house

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sneezemonster15 · 1 month

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It's crazy how popular Naruto is. Like damn, every comment section of every video/reel has someone with a Naruto user name. And Naruto gifs in the comment section hahaha. If it's a dog with its owner video, Kiba gifs. If it's a snake video, Orochimaru gifs. All garbage videos have Sakura gifs. Every single crow video I have checked out, and I love crows so I have seen a lot, has Itachi dissolving into crows and disappearing gif lol. All the running videos have the Naruto run gif. If it's a video about someone getting yeeted, Pain sending Hinata flying gifs. If it's a fox video, Kurama gifs. All shark videos have Kisame gifs. All emo type videos/songs/fashion videos have either Sasuke or Pain gifs in their comment sections. All ramen videos have Naruto slurping ramen gifs. All wholesome teacher student videos have Naruto and Jiraiya gifs in their comment sections, and people upvote them with the intensity of me slathering butter on my toast. It's PERSONAL.

I am sure I am missing a lot. But over the years, I have seen Naruto to be more popular than any other anime. How could it be more evident? You will find Naruto fans posting Naruto shit in videos that seemingly have nothing to do with any of it but they will find a connection AND get upvoted lol. Like yes, I see One piece characters, I see Dragonball a lot because it's naturally so meme worthy lol, I see Pokemon, Gintama, Sailor Moon, but Naruto surpasses everyone in terms of visibility. It surpasses every class, religion, region, caste, and demographics.

I nerd out freely on a lot of subjects online which covers a lot of ground, and I can tell you Naruto fans are all invasive, they spread faster than mould in the rainy season. I am now beginning to see JJK fans but they are mostly in comment sections of thirst trap type videos, not very widely traveled. Hehehe. And one can see why, Gege has facilitated it with such aplomb after all. But it just doesn't compare to Naruto in terms of visibility of fans.

Naruto fans would post the dumbest shit with so much confidence, it's adorable. No it really is, it shows their conviction in Naruto. This is what it inspires. Unflinching, iron clad loyalty even in the face of ridicule and potential discrimination. Hahaha. This show has something for everyone. You can relate deeply with one or the other character, you root for them and you cry for them. You rage and you laugh and sometimes you get so annoyed , you throw your slipper at the tv screen. You go absolutely insane and willingly remain insane with pride in your face. Like the hot red glowing passion. I would do a lot of things before starting an argument with an Itachi fanboy on Insta.

I could always pivot this whole thing to bring it back to my punchline - Do you still think something like this be accidental?

But this post isn't about that. It's really about appreciating what Kishi has given us. Again, as an adjunct I can also lament about how its legacy is being superlatively clusterfucked by Boruto, especially after its recent developments (the fuck was that about Himawari radiating Kurama's chakra, wtactualf??), but again, this post isn't about that.

Behold Naruto. It's not a show, it's a litmus test. If this show didn't fuck you up a little bit, it's because you have had it easy. There's a reason why there are so many Naruto fans in the world and why they don't give a fuck anymore.

Cue Evil Laughter.

#this post might seem a little hyperbolic and maybe it is #but its not that far from the truth #naruto #naruto fandom #kishimoto #i love you kishimoto even though i have enough reason to hate you as well #you know what you did...

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brights-place · 2 months

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The Boondocks with an Mother figure! Reader

Pairings: Riley X Reader, Huey X Reader (All Platonic)

Warnings: Fluff, Cursing,

A/N: Man I grew up with the Boondocks! love the show so much it was so funny and still is funny to see! Anyways imma do an motherly figure! - Okay LISTEN! LISTENNN! these boys have no parents they live with their fucking grandpa so you being an motherly figure to them is... Wild! - You were their neighbor so you wanted to greet them with your S/O but he/she/they/it was too busy at work so you went to greet them by yourself - You made some Sweets and came by smiling at them as Grandpa freeman opened the door to show you smiling at him who greete d you as you exchanegd conversation and handed him the container filled of baked goods before noticing an young boy by the age of 9 with cornrows raise an eyebrow judging you while an 10 year old beside him with an afro eyed you - You waved to them before waving goodbye to grandpa freeman "I'll invite you for dinner sweet pea" grandpa freeman said smiling as you smiled nodding "My partner and I will gladly come along!" you soon left after that - You have tried to befriend the two young boys but failed... - NGL I see Grandpa freeman see you as an daughter and cares for you - Wouldn't threaten you with an belt at all but maybe would whoop the two boys asses aka Huey and Riley most of the time when your around he doesn't hesitate at all unless you are used as a human shield - First of all, they didn’t trust you but then you started offering to babysit them when they were unsupervised. The two boys were more reluctant to accept your pressence, although they were polite with you... well Huey was RIley on the other hand would swear at you - You always took good care of them, you watched them closely and made sure they ate proeprly and didn’t get hurt... - When grandpa freeman says anything sexual around the two you gave the male an disgusted look just like the two boys and go try to cover their ears the best you could - When needed too you Cover the two's eyes whenever something bad would effect them which confuses the two since they were used to this type of shit but Huey didn't try to peak while Riley was squirming saying he wanted to see what the hell was going on - Riley is a highly impressionable third grader. He embraces the stereotypical "gangsta" lifestyle, doing his best to promote the urban culture in the contrasting suburb of Woodcrest since he was HEAVILY Influenced by the mass media via rap music and television, he frequently uses poor grammar, and tends to defend his idols even when his imitations go against common sense and righteousness... BUT DAMN WHEN HE SAW YOU WHOOP SOMEONE IS ASS WITH YOU IN HEELS? HE WAS GAWKING! - Huey is a highly intelligent 10-year-old boy, who rarely smiles or laughs, and recognizes and detests the absurdities (both obvious and perceived) of the society in which he lives. His cynicism often touches upon subjects such as politics, religion, the media, businesses and corporations, African-American culture, and American society as a whole. Tending to be obstinate in both manner and speech which makes you freak out on how an 10 year old knows ALOT! - Huey has shown like ALOT OF DEPTH! of understanding that would seem to surpass his young age, such as knowing roughly what is going to happen in the future based on the actions and personalities of the people involved... Which makes you concerned asking him if he or riley had even gotten a proper childhood... - Riley when he is close to getting his ass whooped would run towards you screaming and hide behind your legs as you stare in utter confusion when he jumps into your arms or hides behind your legs as Grandpa freeman stop and stare at you "Put the boy down Sweet pea I gotta beat this boys ass!" You stared at Grandpa Freeman before staring at riley before running away with the child in your arms screaming as Huey just stared at the chaos unfolding - After awhile you would cpome visit and would try to offer to braid rileys hair which he doesn't allow at first...

- When he does get comfy though and needs his cornrows to be fixed or get a new design he would go to you sit down between your legs on the couch while picking up his controller which makes you laugh - You and Huey discuss lots of things together and compliment and praise the young boy fro his work which he is thankful for - You are seen like a motherly figure to them after 7 Months of meeting you due to your sweet personality - For Riley and Hueyy felt so nice to have someone caring for them other then grandpa freeman. After all they didn't grow up with a good relationship with their parents or didn't have any? you didn't know - You are shocked by the boys is skills... like THEY KNOW SELF DEFENSE! in an shocking way and have done things no child would have done but this was Woodcrest... - Huey and Riley would come up to you if they ever finish a test and show you their scores huey always getting 100 and Riley getting... lets not talk about riley is scores - They both enjoy how you pat their heads when they do something right - Whenever they try to cuss infront of you, they always get an glare from you "Boy if you even try that Imma get your grandad to whoop you" You stated with an smile that held an menacing aura - You panic sometimes when you come to visit and see the boys attack eachother with weapons and they both stop quickly when you shout their names and scold them - If you ahve siblings though and their is a party at your place due to your partner hosting it they would be amazed how you are a whole different person cussing out your siblings - The other woodcrest neighbourghs wood also be shocked to see you close to whooping your younger/older sibling(s) asses with your purse cause they ate the last piece of your favourite food - You definetly will have to step in between Riley and Huey sometimes to stop them from killing one another which always freaks you out - You were staying over and helping Grandpa freeman with his upcoming date but you brought some sweets and got some of them eating one before lifting one up and walking towards you and Huey who were sitting on teh couch talking about one of Hueys recent experiments "Yo ma! what the fuck is this-" Riley froze when he realized what he said as Huey froze aswell turning to Riley with an raised brow as you stared at Riley - Riley spoke "Yall N**** ain't heard shit!" Riley said quickly but was to late when you rushed over hugging riley "AWWWW! RILEYYYY!" Huey glared at Riley who was getting your attention as Riley scoffed hugging you back - Riley and Huey wouldn't call you Ma, or Mother in public only in private cause they didn't want to seem like 'Pussies' by rileys words but to Huey he just doesn't want you to know he see's you as a mother figure - For huey the first time he call you Ma/mother was when you praised him for succeding in one of his experiments he worked REALLY hard on - he was in the garage and his eyes widened when he saw he succeed on making the bomb he had spent so long on... So when you come by he perks up slightly which is unusual and grabbing your hand taking you to the garage and telling you about his... 'Experiment' that def isn't a bomb and how long it took "Thats amazing Huey! your such a Genuis! you are an intelligent young boy I'm very proud of you" you stated with an sweet smile patting his head while his afro cause you didn't know where to pat as he stares up at you and looks away smiling slightly which wasn't shown well "Thanks Ma" Riley was walking past to grab his basketball before having his jaw drop so fast when hearing those quiet words from Hueys lips - Huey denies he ever said it but would say it to you in private. - He enjoys that he doesn't have to always be the responsible one in the family even if you live next door - They call you mom/momma/mum/mama/ma/mother - Believe it or not Huey respects you more than anyone in this world, I mean- have you seen yourself when you protected them of a group of assholes

- It’s still strange for you to know why some people hated the two boys Riley he has definitely called you “mom/mama” ) sometimes... and YES, Huey is still mocking him for that, when he does, surprisingly Riley does not get violent, he just scowls in shame and shouts “Well, SHE IS our mom! right?” he just looks at you with the most confused and adorable expression ever made and you just can’t say no to him. - The two boys are very thankful for you like REALLY THANKFUL! even if they don't show it alot - Grandpa freeman is very greatful for having you around so he didn't have to always look after those assholes

reblogs + comments are appreciated ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

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