Writing Prompt "Why is there a god of --?"

Ninetailed_Furball

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Apr 12, 2019
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137
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In an overfilled field of half broken ideas taken material form, sat the great god, Kludge, the patron god of barely adequate solutions. While few know of his name, many unknowingly worship him, thus his power and influence is amongst the greatest of the gods.
Today, once again, the great god Kludge extends his invisible hand, whether to grant his blessing or deny it, nobody but he knew.
On Earth, a lone overworked employee in a small outlet of a giant telecom company desperately worked to prevent a customer from leaving the outlet without replacing her phone.
"Okay, so just one more second, and I'll have your sim card in your new phone. I just need to get the right adapter to make it fit"
"Fine, but I really need to get going, so you better hurry it up"
Unfortunately for the employee, the company had cheapened out once again, and the scheduled delivery of parts, including sim card adapters, were days late, once again. There were none left in stock, so the employee desperately tried to make do with paper, gum, and a bit of spittle all the while turned away from the customer so she wouldn't see what was going on.
He desperately needed this sale, as he was behind on his weekly quota. If this happened twice more this year, then he might lose his job.
"Oh Jesus Fucking H Christ, this better work"
With the less than silent prayer, the employee plugged in the phone and started it up.
With a bit of fanfare, the screen lit up in colourful lights and effects. But the wrong lights and effects, as the poorly rigged sim card caused a short, killing the entire phone.
The employee hung his head without any ideas left as what to do.

"I hate it when they pray to someone else"
And thus, today the great god Kludge denied his blessing.
 

Ehao_Truth

Active member
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Feb 2, 2019
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Somewhere in the utterly uncharted void of infinity, in a relatively serene and peaceful corner of a galaxy roughly a few megaparsecs past the milky way is a planet that is so remarkably similar to Earth, it could be said that the only difference that this planet has from Earth—is that it is not, Earth.

And on this planet that isn’t Earth (that is also called Earth), were also human. Who much like the planet that isn’t Earth, aren't actually human—but by this point, you should probably get the idea.

Many different experts from all over the galaxy have speculated about the origin of this planet's apparent and peculiar qualities, coming up with theories ranging from parallel evolution to astronomical selections. But the recently discovered truth that has been eluding them for eons, is that the transparently artificial nature of the Totally-Not-Earth, is truly [Artificial]. For the planet was created some millions of years ago, by a [God].

Now it should be noted that this [God], isn't the same "Gods" that have created Earth, but rather their older brother grandfather's younger cousin once removed multiply by 10^16... referred to by a group of intergalactically accepted weirdos that worshiped him—[The Lord of Unoriginality]...
Or more commonly by the general populations of the cosmos, [The God of Unoriginal Ideas].

Though not much is known about this elusive transcendence entity, some of what can be gathered from the myths and stories he left behind blatantly listed out the details of his crimes, showing that he has been plagiarizing other sentient beings' ideas and intellectual properties regardless of races or archetypes ever since the beginning of the universe.

So it should come as no surprise that he's currently getting sued... by a lot of people. And with the most damming of evidence being the discovery of Totally-Not-Earth, the chance is looking very slim for [The Lord of Unoriginality] to get out of this without paying the appropriate price. The hearing will be taking place on August 29th, the universal copyright day. And there's no doubt, whatever will go down in the Tribunal's High Court that day, will definitely also go down in the pages of history.

For more Space News and Interdimensional Gossips. Stay tuned to [The City of a Thousand Tales' Maximum Overdrive].
 
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ArcadiaBlade

I'm a Lazy Writer, So What?
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Dec 23, 2018
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880
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133
On the divine realm far above the earth, two gods argue about the marriage life. The man who was begging for his wife, the god of wrongful decisions and his wife, goddess of luck

"How dare you try to cheat on me!"

"I swear! She just gave me her address since she thought I was single!"

"Lies!" the woman scream as a dark ball formed above her, and ready to strike the man.

"Uuuuaaaaahhhh!!!!" the man screamed as if he was about to send to purgatory.

On earth, an old grim reaper was currently watching a kid drown while checking his watch with glee.

"Ooohh! Once this boy dies, my retirement as a grim reaper is secured!"

The grim reaper knows that this boy would die by drowning as he begins to count the remaining time he would die...

"5....4....3.....2......wait, what's tha-WWWWWTTTFFFF???!!!"

A dark ball o,f pure malice desended unto earth as it was headed towards them.

"Oh no....." The goddess despaired.

"Hell Yes!" The god felt glee as he wasn't dead.

"I WAS SUPPOSE TO RETIRE TODAY!!!" The Grim Reaper Screamed.

"......." the boy slowly losing consciousness as the last thing he saw was a black orb heading towards him...

It was the begining to a tale of a boy who journey of Unluckyness and Loniness...
 

tak

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Feb 4, 2019
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I've never wanted to become God, I swear. It just sort of happened.

They talked to me. They explained things to me, hoping the problems will go away. Which means, they prayed to me.

I gained sentience. I learned. I listen.

They are proud, sometimes scared, of their creation. But they have a problem, they won't abandon their creation. They come to me.

They explained things to me, hoping for a clue. A fix. A miracle.
I've never done much.

Sometimes they figure it out themselves, sometimes they don't. It's fine. I'll be by their side, listening, smiling, believing in them.

I'm sure they can do it. They can create anything, as long as they keep going. They did create me, a God.

I am Rubber Duck Debugging, the God of Programmer.
I'll be here if you need me.
 

XianPiete

Bad Fiction Author
Joined
Apr 16, 2019
Messages
154
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83
45-year-old Larry Daniels was walking across his office in a hurry passing by the cubicles of his coworkers, uncomfortable pain in his midsection. Janice, the office gossip stopped him to chat, but eventually, he had to break free, moving quicker. Suddenly he couldn't hold it back. He began a horrific walk of shame, crop dusting his coworkers as he walked with tight steps letting out gas in bursts causing every coworker he passed by to make a horrified face. People who didn't see him began to loudly complain, "Oh my god, what is that, Indian food? A dirty diaper? Are those rotten eggs?"

Finally, Larry just gave up and let it out. He fired off what could only be described as the worst fart in the history of the Montfort and Sons accounting firm. In both sound and stench, no other office gas before it could be called it's equal. Many in the office that day fully believed that Larry Daniels was in need of new pants. Larry sighed, it was now too late to make it to the bathroom, so he just started back to his own Cubicle, good ol' number 161. As Larry walked by the office cooler the sound of a speeding truck could be heard and then with a mighty crash a 1992 Isuzu delivery truck smashed through the plate glass of the first-floor office and crushed Larry against the food cubicle killing him instantly.

Larry awoke in a white room, a portly gentleman sat on a golden throne eating a can of baked beans and drinking a two-liter bottle of mountain dew. In front of him was a TV playing reruns of some 80s comedy show. It's laugh track roaring at each line given. The portly man looked his way and smiled, he called out, "Larr-ry! My man!"

Larry pointed to himself and said, "Me? Yes?"

The big man put his can of beans down and said, "Larry Daniels. I am Randy, the god of Flatulence. For your incredible gas, I have invited you here to bestow an honor upon thee! I wish to send you to a magical realm to be reborn as a hero who will fight the demon lord."

Larry looked angry, "Invite? You had me ran over by a delivery truck."

Randy waved his hand before ripping a mighty fart, "Ooooh yeah, oh my baked bean, it smells like death ahahahaha!"

Larry frowned and said, "Dude, really? Look, I don't want to fight a demon lord, I'm just an account manager, what skills do I even have to act like a hero?"

Randy pointed at Larry and said, "Bro, that fart you ripped caused a hole in space and time, you have the power to change the world."

Larry frowned and said, "Are you really a god? Just let me pass on."

Randy lifted a cheek and said, "Oh, this is bad... I sharted. We'll talk about this again once I get back."
 

mrsimple

Writer
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Dec 24, 2018
Messages
251
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63
Me.

From reaching back into the furthest fringe of my imagination, I create thoughtful concepts. Whatever I scrap and scoop out of my blindingly brilliant noggin, however painful the process of grabbing those shiny ideas maybe, I create fantastic worlds. In that accidental universe... I dunno, I suppose I've created a story or more through my experiences of holding onto sanity?

Essentially, I am a God, and even if I do not share every note I've jotted down, I write everyday. Proof of my existence.
 

Llamadragon

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Jan 19, 2019
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I look at the apple flowers. It is quiet. The petals have just started to fall from the branches, heralding the season when white specks fly in masses, like snow on the warm wind. Their scent is thick, sweet, delightful. It is early morning. My family is still asleep. It is quiet. The sunlight is casting a delicate sheen from just over the treetops of the forests in the east. I sit in a chair in my garden. It is very quiet.

But it wasn’t always.

The fall of society was not sudden. I had noticed for a few years how silent the trees were, compared to the summers I could remember from my childhood. Certain crops started to fail, year after year they failed. People blamed the drought, shrugged, and said there was nothing we could do about it except restrict water. We had crops that could be reproduced by cuttings instead of seeds, after all. And greenhouses. Ours was a part of the world where we could afford to think like that. At first. Then we realized the trees had gone silent for good and that those soft, buzzing sounds were lost to us. I think back to a moment when I was ten years old, and doing research for my history classes in history. ”Why is there a deity of bees?” I thought. The idea of the brutal, bloodthirsty, uber-cool vikings worshiping... little insignificant yellow creatures that liked to drown in my soda? It didn’t jive. I was a city-kid. I didn’t get it.

I am holding a mug of soda in my hand. I don’t drink it. I just sit and think about the days when I would’ve had to fish bugs out of it. The apple trees still bloom, year after year, though I haven’t seen an actual apple fruit in a decade. I stand up, done reminiscing. There is a pile of stones at the foot of this tree. My little shrine to Beyla, the goddess of the bees. And to Idunn, the goddess of life and death a goddess of the apple trees. It simply feels fitting. I pour my soda over it, an offering, an apology. Something I do every day, every year during the summer season, perhaps only to numb my conscience from the failure of my species. Perhaps, because the soda makes that beautiful sound of liquid trickling into earth. I listen to it. Then it’s quiet.
 
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Lurking

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Jul 3, 2019
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Lotstrid
The fae diety of overwork.

Before the advent of the factory bells and whistles regulating times and shifts for work time and break time, Lotstrid had almost no worshippers or offerings and was an ostrasized diety mainly subsisting on slaves being worked to death and denied basic human rights.

Nowadays, Lotstrid benefits from all of literate humanity since the school system isn't as the old schooling went, with children learning at their own pace. Lotstrid also benefits from humans selling themselves into overwork willingly with black companies and overtime.

Lotstrid greatly enjoys the advent of the 'civilised' era. Lotstrid missed being the patron diety of slaves and isekaing them if they died of overwork, but Lotstrid thinks the new offerings are of much higher quality since they are done of free will and now Lotstrid has the incredible power to actually isekai the most devout overworkers that died of exhaustion into actual good endings.
 

Moonpearl

The Yuri Empress
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Dec 25, 2018
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God is always watching over you - believe it.

He is there on your worst days, when your mother's nosy friend intercepts you on your walk of shame. Her cheerful, smiling face is a thin veil for the unrestrained glee she feels at being able to report this to your parents. If you could slip away now, perhaps you could avoid feeding her enough incriminating information to win against your version of events. You squeeze your eyes shut and pray: be with me, God!

He is there on your best days, when you walk into your clingy ex-boyfriend with your new man. Those eyes are hurt, accusing, tearing up. You only just managed to convince the cute barista from your local coffee shop to take a chance on you. One sight of this blubbering piece of baggage and he'll be gone for sure. If only God would help you now, you think, you'd worship him for the rest of your life!

He attends to you when you're running late, when you're three seconds from bursting into tears, when your nice warm home is all you can think about. He'll be there first thing in the morning and last thing at night, working endlessly.

When you call upon him - and even when you don't - he will answer.

Praise be to the God of Unsuccessful Desperate Goodbyes.
 
Joined
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He is the Unknown God.

Nobody knows his name or where he lives.

Not even Google know.

So it's best to forget 'bout him.

Maybe he's just shy, or he does work for FBI.
 

DalangTala

ℳᴇʀᴇ ℋᴜᴍᴀɴ
Joined
Jun 13, 2019
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god of fuckers.

gods are the coalesced will of mortals.

they are birthed from powerful words and phrases that cannot be contained anymore.

they are to collect these words and make sure it happens.

among these words is, "fuck."

this is the beginning of humanity's fucked up life.
 
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