#none of self all of God

[yeslordmyking]

Proverbs 10:8 — Today's Verse for Tuesday, October 8, 2024

[justaz]

i wish i was a good artist. i would draw merlin so androgynous. in a dress. long hair. mmmmmm. kiss boys. arthur. kiss arthur. sigh

[rnelodyy]

guys please im literally begging yall to understand that "the gods should have interfered when i was a hurt and scared little kid begging them for help" and "the gods shouldnt be forcing themselves onto mortals by way of colonial incursion" are not contradictory statements. ashton's perspective is flawed and biased due to their own experiences sure but its not hypocritical.

[lovesickeros]

☆ from gold, i am undone

{☆} characters tsaritsa {☆} notes cult au, yandere, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings blood, implied self harm, implied suicide attempts {☆} word count 0.9k

You weren't meant to be here.

You can feel it in the marrow of your bones– it weighs you down like heavy shackles, gold bleeding from your pores until it is all you know. The taste of ichor on your tongue, the warmth of its invasion beneath your skin, that gleam of gold that lingers in the color of your eyes like specks of dust.

You are changed, and you are whole.

But you are so unbearably broken.

A shattered piece of porcelain hastily put back together with gold to fill the cracks.

Decoration, in the end, for you are not fit to walk as "mortals" do. This gold had filled every empty crevice of your body, spilled the red into your frantic hands and made you bleed so it's callous gold could make room inside your body. It has taken from you many things, given many more, but you scratch and bite and tear until it drips onto the floor and even then it never leaves. It stains the floor no matter how hard you scrub– a permanent reminder of the sickening gold that molds you into something that used to look like you– that does look like you. Desecrated, yet so horribly divine.

All you see is a monster.

Something new, something old.

A hollowed out shell, wounds left to rot and fester until you suited the image of the Creator they bore upon statues and murals, the Creator worshiped in prayers spoken in hushed whispers and joyous chants praising your magnificence.

But what magnificence is there in detachment? What joy is there to be found in carving a God out of a human? They kneel like lambs before the shepherd, but the flock has made you– and you want to unmake them. Unweave the tapestry of their being stitch by stitch until it all falls apart and the world knows the cost of casting molten gold into the shape of a human, knows the price that has been left unpaid.

You want to take it from them. Watch them squabble and pray, blind sheep stepping into the wolf's open maw– to tear the seams of their being until the world is unwound by your heavy hands.

But you know it will not satisfy you.

Nothing does anymore.

You are no wolf. Only the shepherd who guides.

And with every drop of blood spilled, they ripped the humanity from your very bones until your body was the cast in which they made something anew– something gold, something horrific. A monster as much a God, a beast as much a man.

There is nothing left but absolute authority.

You try again and again to mend this act of desecration, to peel back the outer shell and rend the gold from your marrow– but your body cannot, will not, die. It mends itself back into place no matter how damaged, and all you feel is the uncomfortable tug of your body forcing itself to live. You cannot die, but were you ever truly alive at all?

Yet with every cycle, you know only one constant besides the thrum of golden ichor in your veins– cold.

Ice that burns, ice that spreads and festers and devours. Claws that pull you apart until the gold runs thick, teeth that burrow into your bones and rip it out from the source..eyes that witness the fall of a God with reverence– hungering, all consuming reverence.

You welcome it.

It is the first time you felt pain since you were cast into an image of a being you were not meant to be. The sting of cold upon your skin makes you shiver, your body tries to reject it, but you want to welcome it– for a brief moment that lasts only as long as it takes for you to blink, you see the glint of something familiar in the reflection of her empty eyes. Something achingly, horribly familiar– something human, all the more terrifying for it.

Even when Teyvat itself crumples like paper beneath the weight of her sins – of this desecration anew, this wretched heresy – you allow her hands to do it again. You grasp her hands in yours like chains, willing her to shackle you, willing her to pull you apart and make you whole again. To break you until the gold cannot put you back together again.

You long, each time, for those eyes like spears that lodge into your skin– burrow deep and sting deeper, making gold flow like water. You long for the biting tongue, the cutting words and those teeth like weapons– long to see the spite and anger and impure disgust aimed at the woman of silver who leads you down a hall that ends only in damnation. You follow each time like the lamb led astray by the wolf, but you do not wail in betrayal when she sinks her teeth into your throat and devours you whole.

For is it a sin if you welcome it? Has their God sinned, in the eyes of the flock, for welcoming such heresy with open arms? For allowing the wolf into their home?

Is it a sin to be broken beneath the only hands that have loved you?

Is it a sin to want to love, too, those hands and teeth stained in gold?

Then you shall be damned, you swear it. Damned, but gold no more.

For death is the closest you have ever felt to being human.

[shannonsketches]

[slavhew]

Hello!

If you're not too busy, would you mind listing some of the things you think count as death flags for Mr. Spender?

There's the obvious fact that he's the "old" mentor to group of young protagonists, but what else do you think would count?

OHH BOY ok so I'd think I'm a crackpot for this but since we're talking about Zack "Foreshadowing" Morrison. I have some thoughts

No harm in leading with the (chronologically) first thing that jumped out at me:

This one IMMEDIATELY made me antsy whenever I came back to it after my initial read, and considering Zack has referred to it on twitter in the past as one of their favorite jokes it's definitely not been forgotten about.

Second, the sheer amounts of near-misses, jokey or not, of Spender narrowly avoiding specifically lightning

Again, not much, but it's weird that it happened thrice, latter two of which had real gravitas rather than an one-off joke.

And third, Spender himself. He's repeatedly shown himself to be kind of a self sacrificing idiot, as well as prideful to a fault. Granted, it's both him and Mina trying to take on all the responsibility of saving Mayview and its inhabitants from their fate.. But Spender is exactly that right measure of doesn't-value-himself-enough (chest footprint aftercare or lack thereof), having an obscene amount of power (enables his loner act + pride) and poor judgement that has the capacity to put him at great risk. And it has!

Spender has not only shown low enough self-esteem to view himself as the de-facto scapegoat for the safety of the town, but also prideful enough to make very bad calls that end up in people, often himself, hurt (COUGH FORGE INCIDENT COUGH)

This is all conjecture, but it's definitely enough to make me worried about him :') Even if all this doesn't mean he'll necessarily die he's definitely getting (even more) seriously injured at some point. I love the guy but he's so far doing a horrible job of convincing me he wants to live bad enough to circumvent at least that

[britcision]

So I’ve been trying this thing this year

Where I look at the things I’ve decided in the past were too difficult for me or that I couldn’t do so I shouldn’t try

And saying “fuck it let’s noodle around for a couple hours and see what happens”

Because the time will pass anyway and I might as well

And listen

I already knew I was far too powerful and my incredible gifts had to be nerfed by the gods in the form of about six separate physical and mental disabilities lest I threaten the fabric of reality

But it turns out that actually I am a golden god and the limits of my abilities are defined solely by a combination of my own self doubt and the amount of time and energy I’m willing to put in to practice something

I can be as good at anything as I decide I want to be, because I decide when I don’t want to put more work in to improve

And listen

This might sound hard

This might sound silly and completely inapplicable to yourself because clearly you are not as magnificent and talented as I

But that is the demon of self doubt that sits upon your shoulder to constrain your might

And how do you know you’re not also a golden god capable of anything unless you give it a try?

[crumpet-doodles]

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

all the robotniks have autism I think. it’s not even a genetic thing half of them are adopted they’re just all autistic

[zymstarz]

yeah sure that's how i'll [re]come out

[ebbpettier]

*sees you're into Simon Snow and also Percy Jackson*

*points*

YOU LIKE CHOSEN ONES AND THE INEVITABLY OF THE PROPHECY BUT NOT THE WAY THEY THOUGHT! YOU LIKE HEROES BURDENED WITH RESPONSIBILITY BUT WHO FEEL OBLOGATED TO GO THROUGH WITH IT DESPITE THE MORALLY QUESTIONABLE POWERS THAT BE THAT PUT THEM IN THIS SITUATION IN THE FIRST PLACE! HAHA!

(I also enjoy these things hello)

ALL OF THIS IS TRUE!!!! ADDITIONALLY I'M ALSO BISEXUAL AND I LIKE SWORDFIGHTING AND CHARACTERS WITH THEMES

also this picture is awful bc the lighting in here is awful but

[todayisafridaynight]

THIS IS GONNA SOUND SO MEAN BUT WHY DO U LIKE RYO AOKI/MASATO

masato hot

[nostalgia-tblr]

u know, once someone has pointed out the orientalism in most of fandom's depictions of jotun!loki you can never unsee it.

[selfish--envy]

reading a yan manga and feeling jealous of the darling whats new ^_^

[clawedevil]

Tag Dump because I'm tired of not having my tags handy.

Also NSFW headcanons because i forget my headcanons. I have headcanons but I only write smut when the stars align and two blood sacrifices have been made in my honor so no one needs to know these.

HIM's eyes go black when they c*m.

They are a nonbinary-shapeshifter but they prefer to have a pen*s.

Head game is insane.

They are EXTREMELY vain so when it comes to talking during its usually stuff like "you like my *blank*" "i know it feels good when i *blank*"

Believe it or not, HIM is a switch. They have no preference for either though. It's really just whatever they feel like at the moment.

They love to leave marks in visible spots.

Finally, the tags:

ooc. ｢ monster fucker simulator. ｣ ic. ｢ lace a lie with truth none is sweeter. ｣ him. ｢ creature most vile. ｣ mojo. ｢ prove yourself worthy to a worthless cause. ｣ musings. ｢ delights of pain and pleasure. ｣ headcanons. ｢ to kill a god. ｣ aesthetic. ｢ luxuries of devil to make angels weep. ｣ style. ｢ dipped with gold and blood. ｣ self promo. ｢ fall in decay. ｣ promo. ｢ succumb to your weakness. ｣ desires. ｢ the taste of the forbidden  ｣

body. ｢ all the better to eat you with. ｣ fc. ｢ evil always seeks to tempt. ｣ answers. ｢ look to the heavens and pray to devils. ｣ jojoisnomo. ｢ beautiful disaster i’ll eat you. ｣ mojo and him. ｢ own me i'll let you play the role. ｣ rebelpuff. ｢ what's the most you ever lost ｣

[july-19th-club]

tanaaj is such a tragic character "i do everything right nobody has ever been as good or correct about the rule of saint leah as i am. unrelated but why do i feel so bad and guilty and lonely all the time?" well for starters you live in fully automated luxury catholicism so that's gonna contribute to the issue for sure