#Divination System

[endless-nightshift]

There's something so sad to me about the fact Lan Xichen goes from happily encouraging Lan Wangji to befriend Wei Wuxian to Considering Wei Wuxian to be Lan Wangjis 'only mistake'

Like... Imaging getting a miracle second chance not only at life but to have be loved by the man you've always admired only to find out that his family detests you because during the worst time in your life, physically and mentally you didn't take into account the idea that a man who'd always treated with cool acquaintance at best, active distaste at worst actually cared about you and that his constant reproach and effort get you do give up the one method you have to protect yourself while everyone was literally actually out for your head was honestly because he was badly wording his concern and not because he hated you and the methods you used to survive.

[jamaalw]

Sacred Geometry and Geomancy Exposed

Sacred Geometry and Geomancy Exposed

What is Sacred Geometry and Geomancy? A geomancer or sand diviner from Mali traces geomantic figures in a prepared bed of sand. What is sacred geometry and geomancy? According to one source, “Sacred geometry ascribes symbolic and sacred meanings to certain geometric shapes and certain geometric proportions.” It is associated with the belief that a god is the geometer of the world. One source…

[sunderwight]

Thinking about a bingqiu Dreamling AU where Shen Yuan and Shang Qinghua are both bored deities, just sort of taking a brief sojourn through the mortal world to shoot the shit and see some interesting monster or other that Shen Yuan has heard about, when they come across a tea house and decide to take a break and do some people-watching instead.

Shen Yuan is well into something of a shut-in phase, which Shang Qinghua doesn't like, mostly because when Shen Yuan is in those phases he doesn't do particularly well either. Shen Yuan's a social butterfly, for however little he cares to actually acknowledge it about himself, and his critique of Shang Qinghua's literary masterpieces gets so much harsher when he's not getting enough enrichment.

So when they overhear one of the kitchen boys solemnly insisting that he is going to do everything in his power to never die, and Shen Yuan laments that the boy would probably regret such a wish if it came true, Shang Qinghua decides to bestow a rare bit of godly power onto this mortal and grant his wish.

He doesn't make him a god, of course, that wouldn't even be in his ability. At least, not without using up more time and effort than he's prepared to expend on this one random kid. But immortality on its own is not that difficult. The boy will still finish growing up, and will still be able to be harmed, to know hunger and pain and illness. It just won't ever kill him.

Shen Yuan sighs that it's a cruel thing to do to a mortal, especially one with such low odds of ever cultivating other skills to mitigate the potential torment of it all. But Shang Qinghua just shrugs and they place bets, that this boy will ask for the immortality to be revoked in a hundred years, or two hundred, or so on, or else he won't. Shen Qingqiu approaches the kitchen boy and flusters and bewilders him by telling him to meet him back here again in a hundred years time.

A hundred years later, the tea house is larger. The boy has grown to be a striking young man, who looks at Shen Yuan with wariness and something else, something almost like awe, as he asks what manner of creature he's made this bargain with. Shen Yuan assures him that he has no nefarious intentions, and instead asks Luo Binghe how the past century of his life has gone.

Horribly, at least at first. Binghe's mother had already died by the time they met, but afterwards he managed to earn enough money to travel to a nearby sect. Working in the tea house's kitchen was just a minor stopover along the way. Shen Yuan was wrong, it seems, about his odds of becoming a cultivator -- Luo Binghe earned entry as a disciple.

Yet, he had no success. The master who took him on was unaccountably cruel and mercurial, and Luo Binghe's attempts to cultivate failed. Looking back he sees now that there were many times when he should have died but didn't, but when it was all happening he just thought himself lucky. At least until an enemy sect attacked a cultivation conference, and he suffered mortal wounds that absolutely should have killed him (or anyone) but still didn't die. (No demon race or abyss in this AU, but there are still demonic and fantastical creatures.)

His cruel master, upon witnessing this, accused him of heretical practices and tried to kill him as well by flinging him off the edge of a gorge. The fall was terrible. Binghe lay at the bottom in a horrifying state, injured beyond reason and yet, still, he didn't die. Eventually his body recovered enough for him to drag himself out, and once he did the only thing on his mind was getting revenge. For the next several decades he managed to ingratiate himself to all manner of potential allies, forging alliances, accumulating blackmail, and convincing people that he had to be some powerful cultivator through his supernatural resilience, lack of visible aging, and a lot of bluffing. He got revenge on his old teacher, drove his first sect into ruin, and rose to prominence as a feared and respected leader of the cultivation world.

Shen Yuan listens with clear interest, asking plenty of questions and seemingly quite taken up with the story. At the conclusion, Luo Binghe admits that his actual cultivation is still mostly a matter of smoke and mirrors, and wonders if -- now that the hundred years have passed -- Shen Yuan means to strip his immortality from him.

Shen Yuan asks if Luo Binghe wants that. When Luo Binghe says no, he accepts the answer, and tells him to meet him back here again in another hundred years. Luo Binghe calls after him, but before he can ask anything more, Shen Yuan has disappeared again.

A hundred years later, Binghe arrives back at the tea house with an entourage befitting of an emperor. The tea house has also expanded. Luo Binghe orders a lavish feast from them, which everyone hastens to provide. He's spent the past several decades consolidating his power, forging alliances with key political players via several marriages, producing heirs, and crushing his enemies. As he brags about the state of his massive harem to Shen Yuan, the deity's eyes begin to glaze over. He doesn't seem impressed. He also doesn't seem to care much for the food, and eventually his attention is stolen away by a conversation at another table. The diners are discussing the exploits of a promising new poet and novelist. Try as he might, Luo Binghe fails to regain Shen Yuan's attention before the evening is done. Shen Yuan doesn't think it's a big deal -- after all, if Binghe is still riding on top of the world, he's probably not going to want his immortality gift revoked just yet!

Another hundred years go by. The tea house has returned to a more modest situation, the next time Shen Yuan sets foot in it. He waits an unusually long while for his guest to arrive, and when he does, he's almost stopped at the door by the tea house's servers. It's only when Shen Yuan bids them let him through that Luo Binghe is able to come to the table, almost collapsing against it and desperately falling onto the arrangement of snacks with obvious hunger.

Shen Yuan wonders if this, now, will be when the boy (no longer a boy) asks for the immortality to be revoked. Surprisingly, he finds himself resistant to the idea, even though it's also clear that the game has run too long. Maybe hundred year check-ins were too short? He doesn't like the implications of what's gone on, even if he's not really surprised about it either.

Between desperate mouthfuls of food, Luo Binghe explains that without mastering inedia, going hungry but never dying is a deeply unpleasant experience. Shen Yuan orders more food. Once Binghe has finally eaten his fill, he begins, haltingly, to explain his situation. His clothes are ragged, he is painfully thin, and his gaze is haunted.

Apparently, several of his wives conspired to assassinate him, despite his reputation as unkillable. Realizing that most poisons and such didn't kill him, but that he could still be incapacitated, they hatched a scheme to dose his food with a powerful sleeping agent, and then walled him up in a famous ancestral tomb. They went to great length to ensure that it was impossible to escape from. It took Binghe decades to do it anyway, digging away at the floors, and when he got out he found that his power base had collapsed. In-fighting and the incursion of his enemies had led to the deaths of all of his children, and what wives had survived had either fled or remarried. Not that he particularly wanted them back at that point, since the ones actually most loyal to him had also been killed early on after his own "death". His face marked him, to the eyes of his enemy, as a surviving descendant of himself. He was hunted down, chased across the continent and back again, until he managed to fall into enough obscurity that his pursuers abandoned the chase. Except that he has nothing, and any time he tries to regain something, he runs the risk of being hounded again. Those who might see some potential in him still remember the collapse of his recent "dynasty" and slam doors in his face, or else try and turn him over to those now in power in pursuit of a reward. Those who don't know that much see only a dirty beggar, and usually run him off on that basis instead.

Shen Yuan, almost hesitant, asks if Luo Binghe would like to have his immortality revoked.

Luo Binghe declines. How will he be able to take revenge on those who wronged him if he is dead? He has a hit list a mile long by now.

Which is definitely not the most noble of reasons to persist, but Shen Yuan finds himself reluctant to ask twice. Instead he orders more food, and then even reserves one of the traveler's rooms above the tea house for several days. By then the sky is turning grey, and Luo Binghe is losing his apparent battle with exhaustion. Shen Yuan presses the key into his hand, thinking it's probably not enough, but there are limits to how much gods are supposed to interfere and Shang Qinghua already stretched them to the breaking point with this entire scenario.

He leaves, not seeing the hand that reaches after him just before he is out of the door and gone.

Another hundred years pass. This time, Shen Yuan arrives to find Luo Binghe already waiting for him. He isn't surprised to see that Binghe's situation has visibly improved -- maybe he was keeping closer tabs on him, just a little bit, for this past while. If only to be sure he wouldn't have to warn the tea house workers to expect an unorthodox visitor again! But no, Binghe has been doing well enough for himself. No more harems or thrones, though. He dresses more like a well-off merchant now, deliberately posing as his own mortal descendant rather than as a great immortal cultivator. The food at the table looks far more delicious than usual too (Binghe commandeered the tea house's kitchen himself this time). As they chat, Shen Yuan is regaled with the exploits of Luo Binghe's travels and adventures, how even though he initially set out to claim revenge on those who overthrew him, by the time he was in a position to actually do so they had already died of the usual causes (time, illness, their own schemes backfiring, etc). Subsequently, only their children and grandchildren were left with the scraps of power they had obtained, and when one of those children employed Luo Binghe as a bodyguard, his initial plan to assassinate them eventually fell by the wayside. After all, the wrongdoings weren't actually theirs. From that point, Binghe was able to restore himself to a more comfortable life, joining his new employer on their travels until he had set aside enough earnings to take his leave before his youthful good-looks earned him suspicion. He then began investing in travel and trade, specifically cargo ships, because never spending too long in the same place or around the same people helped disguise his immortality. He had found that, at least for now, this served him better than playing the part of a cultivator. It also gave him time to try and actually repair his ruined cultivation base somewhat, and fighting pirates proved very diverting.

Binghe is midway through recounting his adventures with a gigantic sea monster, while Shen Yuan hangs on every word, when they're interrupted by the arrival of a brash young mistress, clearly wealthy and trained in cultivation. The young lady declares that there is a rumor that a fallen god and a demon meet in this tea house once a century, that they wield strange powers, etc etc, and she intends to interrogate them both with the assistance of her hired muscle and her own spiritual weapon, and discover the truth of the matter. Then she whips out, well, a whip!

Before Shen Yuan can deal with the matter, Luo Binghe is already on his feet, disarming the goons and breaking a few arms in the process. Shen Yuan is so distracted that he almost misses the whip aimed right for him, but before Binghe can catch the barbed weapon with his bare hand (wtf, Binghe, no) Shen Yuan deflects it with a wave of his fan, and then efficiently knocks the troublesome young lady unconscious. The hired muscle flees, Shen Yuan arranges for their assailant to be placed in a room upstairs until she regains consciousness, and he and Binghe resume their meal and conversation in relative peace.

Even though it's clear that Luo Binghe has not yet reached the end of his tolerance for life, Shen Yuan nevertheless finds himself strangely reluctant to part ways at the end of the night. Still, he does, because that's what is expected of him, gently denying Luo Binghe's suggestions that they find some other establishment to continue their conversation at. He also has to investigate these "rumors" that the young lady mentioned. It's probably nothing (Shang Qinghua has a loose tongue when he's drunk, and a lot of imaginative storytellers have frequented this tea house over the years) but he doesn't like being caught unawares like that. Heavenly politics are... complicated, it's best not to court unwanted attention in any capacity.

Another hundred years go by. This time, when they meet at the tea house, Luo Binghe asks Shen Yuan why he keeps it up. Why did he pick Binghe? What is he really after? When Shen Yuan fails to give any kind of clear answer, Luo Binghe shoots his shot and makes a (very obvious) move on him.

Shen Yuan, flustered, gets up and flees. Ignoring Luo Binghe's calls after him. It just doesn't make any sense! Why would Binghe do that?! He's a man who once had a harem of wives in the triple digits! Clearly he's not gay, so what was that all about? Was he just messing with him?! How dare he! Etc, etc.

Another century passes. Luo Binghe waits at the tea house, which has fallen onto hard times again. With the construction of some new roadways, travelers no longer pass through as often. Binghe listens, worried, to the proprietor's laments that this old place will probably not be around in another hundred years. He listens because he has no one else to speak to, because Shen Yuan has not shown up. Not that morning, not during the day, not come evening, and not now that it is closing time. Binghe nevertheless charms and bribes the proprietor to let him stay even after the place has shuttered.

It seems damning, of course. He pressed too hard and now his mysterious benefactor wants nothing more to do with him. Except, no, he refuses to accept that. He's still immortal. And he has gleaned enough of Shen Yuan's character by now that he thinks that even if he was rejected, he would be let down more clearly and gently than this. The more he thinks about it, the less willing Luo Binghe is to believe that he has been deliberately stood up (also, since the tenor of his confession was different from Hob Gadling's, he never delivered an ultimatum about what it might imply when they met up again).

Over the centuries, Luo Binghe has built up a few contacts with similarly strange and supernatural stories. Cultivators, sure, but also others, fortune tellers and people of strange ancestry, questionable abilities, those who have interacted with powerful beings of mysterious provenance. He makes his way to a certain gambling den, frequented often by such people, and while he flashes around enough money to draw curiosity, he collects information. Shen Yuan wasn't the only person who started paying more attention to the kinds of rumors surrounding the two of them after their confrontation with the young cultivator a couple centuries ago. And in fact, Luo Binghe has been spending many, many years trying to find out more about his mystery man. Though, too many potential deities and immortals fit his description for him to have ever conclusively figured much out.

This is how Binghe gets wind of a rumor that an eccentric occultist has somehow captured a god in his basement...

[sea-buns]

K E L M P

[othersharkss]

SQQ alien who manifested to me fully formed to fit with my 90s sci-fi anime-inspired setting. So I guess this is an au for me to play with. Plus another guy.

Just having fun! Just riffing!

[zeravmeta]

i know that the witch king as we know him probably hadn't been fully conceptualized early on when we had IS1 but i think it would have been hilarious had we found out that Ceobe had also somehow broken into and out of the genesis spire since like, one of the IS collectible is the fucking Witch Kings Horn Itself meaning that ceobe had to have one point seen it and recognized it as super cursed and thus also Taken It

like imagine in the final sections of zwillingsturme when the witch king is talking to fremont and he's like "yes the liches of the sarkaz are some of the only few beings to have reached this place. the ancient feranmut of yan, the ascended consciousness of the ocean, the travelling machines from beyond the fake sky..." and then his face twists. "...that one weird perro that one time who made off with one of my horns"

[i4mth4ti4m]

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚

O Jesus, through the Immaculate Heart of Mary,

I offer you my prayers, works, joys and sufferings of this day

for all the intentions of your Sacred Heart,

in union with the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass throughout the world,

for the salvation of souls, the reparation for sins, the reunion of all Christians,

and in particular for the intentions of the Holy Father this month.

Amen

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆

[kittykatninja321]

My problem with religious!Jason headcanons is that people automatically assume it’d be a typical Catholic guilt/looking for atonement type narrative and not this:

[maythestormsnevertakefromme]

The world when pagans, wiccans and witches acknowledge that divine feminine is literally just repackaged tradwife propaganda and dark feminine is oversexualisation of pagan women and their bodies:

[lizzybeanbutt]

now that you mention it, yeah kabru is kind of an ibex

trying to pin it down but I don't feel confident on my grasp of kabru's characterization (depsite him being my favourite guy. you know how it is) but like. Kabru is a nicer ibex. Ibex is kabru but he's no longer asking. Ibex is a kabru but he's not afraid to let outright enemies stay on the board if he knows he'll win the overall battle. I think Kabru would make a better candidate of rightousness. I need a two way au and we're gonna send the dunmeshi cast to divine cycle space and we're throwing the kingdom crew in a last ditch dungeon crawl

@arcnoise tagging just in case

[movedtocringecrew]

Angelkin/Demonkin positivity post <3

Shout out to Angels who are corrupted, confused or unable to say how they feel.

Angels who aren’t really “angels”.

Angels who actually REALLY like humans.

Angels who are soft and pastel and sweet.

Angelkin who are horrifying and have scary true forms.

Angels who know everything about heaven and the hierarchy.

Angels who don’t know shit and don’t want to.

Love you guys.

Shout out to Demoms who wish they hadn’t fallen.

Demons who wish they could go back home

Demon who hate heaven for what they did

Demon who have nothing to do with heaven and never did.

Demon who are stereotypical horned hot bastards.

Demons who aren’t sexual at all.

Demons who love religious imagery

and Demons who are deeply uncomfortable with it.

Demons who are calm and sweet and pastel and angelic.

Love you guys.

[divineruins00]

lazy twitter crosspost. idk maybe theres hostduo fans here too. i just couldnt deal w the dogshit twitter quality

electro polearm failboat & hydro bow jaymoji

vv original twitter post

[the-alarm-system]

ITS HERE

ANGELKIN EUPHORIA

-Ardyn

[17th-shard]

May 2024 Art Commission

What's this, more art? Welcome to the weird world of Ashyn! (You can check out our Patreon to learn where our information on this floating, upside-down city with a burning ground in place of a sky comes from, and for a flipped right-side-up version. You could also, incidentally, check it out to help decide what other art gets made.) This piece is by hug.ham!

[my-insanity-is-an-artform]

It had been a week since The Lamb had been summoned to The Gateway in the aftermath of Shamura’s death.

A week since The One Wh-… since Narinder had ordered them to kneel.

A week since they refused.

A week since they won.

A week since…

Since they had returned to the cult, bloody and victorious over their former patron, only to find him at the centre of a concerned crowd by the Indoctrination Circle.

Comatose.

The Lamb methodically tucked the blanket securely around Narinder’s still form. The only sign of life being the rise and fall of his thin chest. Whether the thinness was a sign of his former role as Death or due to his long imprisonment, the Lamb wasn’t sure but it was something of concern.

As was the gaunt look to his wrist, scarred and furless, with long oozing sores up his forearms.

“Oh, what am I going to do with you?” The Lamb murmured softly as they smoothed out the blanket.

While not entirely sure why Narinder had fallen into a coma, the Lamb suspected it might have been related to the shock of becoming mortal.

The wounds that were so easily shrugged off as a god were fatal to any mortal.

“I don’t know why I spared you. You demanded so much of me and took everything else. Maybe it was pity. Maybe I am just a coward like you said. Or perhaps I’m just tired of all the bloodshed. So many of us have died, mortal and divine and for what?” They soothed another fake wrinkle in the blanket.

They did not regret killing the Bishops. How could they when the four had stolen their entire people from them? The Genocide had started before they had been born and thus any chance of them knowing what it was like to be a Lamb, to know their culture, their heritage, was destroyed before it began. The fanaticism had extended to any who would show a lamb any form of mercy or those who tried to preserve anything of lamb culture.

The zealotry had even begun to affect other species as the number of lambs dwindled. Goats, antelopes, deer, bison, cattle, even llamas, all became rarer towards the end.

Cats, black ones especially, were also affected, being considered an ill omen and too many cats considered themselves allies of lambs to allow such brutality.

And for what?

The prophesised inevitable had finally come to pass. Five became Four became Three became Two became One became…

Nothing.

The Lamb began to gather the old, ichor-stained bandages they had replaced and threw them into a bowl. Cloths they had used to wipe Narinder down followed. The old bedding was thrown by the door, ready to be washed. They refused to allow anyone else care for him with only the healers being allowed to watch over him while they performed their duties away from his bedside.

An act of devotion, penitence and safeguard all rolled into one.

“It’s funny. I thought we’d do all sorts of things once you were free. I wanted to stay by your side. I wanted to show you my favourite fishing spot by the docks and show you where I picked all those camellias in the Darkwood. I wanted to make you my favourite meal.” They were quiet for a moment. “I wanted to know if I meant as much to you as you did to me. Even if I didn’t, I hoped you let me stay. I would’ve given anything, you know, but after everything I’d done for you, after all I had given, you just had to ask for the one thing I couldn’t do.”

The Lamb sat on the floor by the bed and rested their head on the cover, watching his face for even the smallest of reactions.

“If you hadn’t demanded that... If you had found another way… Would you have let me stay?”

Nothing.

Just the rise and fall of the thin chest.

Just as it had been for a week.

Just as it would be for a long time yet.

____________________________

Everyone: Narinder is pissed and tries to assassinate the Lamb when he's indoctrinated.

Me: What if he's comatose tho?

AU where the shock of becoming mortal after being imprisoned for so long causes Narinder's body to be so overwhelmed that he falls into a coma immediately upon arrival to the cult.

The Lamb, while feeling betrayed yet still devoted, decides to personally care for Narinder while he's comatose.

Rumours spread about the mysterious comatose new recruit and how the Lamb spends every moment they aren't caring for the Cult with him.

Some think something happened their leader blames themself for.

Others think it's out of duty and safeguarding since he's technically not been indoctrinated yet.

One very persistent rumour insists that the mystery person is actually the Lamb's lover who was hurt and now they cannot bear to part from his side.

Even when the Mystic Seller commands them to free the Bishops, the Lamb is slow to do so until it offers to help Narinder heal.

With every freed bishop, the stronger Narinder becomes.

Aym and Baal are resurrected and are the only ones allowed to help with Narinder while the Lamb frees the bishops. The only ones they can trust with Narinder.

The Lamb continues to talk to Narinder throughout everything about everything. All of their hopes and fears and plans are laid bare to him. Their feelings too.

(Maybe the bishops also talk to him. Quietly and on the rare moments that the Lamb isn't hovering by his side. Their own form of confessional.)

However, no one has any idea that Narinder can hear every word.

And then he wakes up.

[deicidedlygay]

integrating your systems into hers. dragging your hands across her controls. syncing your tech with her blades. forming one Divine machine. Osiris and Sisyphus communing as gods. losing where each begins and ends. becoming One. becoming Ourself.