#humans versus the divine

[belle-epochalypse]

me looking at the car as I cross against the light: you are like an angel. you are larger than I and can kill me in an instant. yet you are beholden to your path and cannot stray from the street, controlled by an uncomprehensible light. I, I am free to go where I wish. you may have an automobile but I have autonomy

#I LOVE BREAKING TRAFFIC LAWS #angels #mortals #humans versus the divine

[quietwingsinthesky]

Thinking about the “Careful. That’s my Father you’re speaking about, boy.” line now. Because like. Raphael is the one angel with the perspective of “god is dead/so far out of the picture and not coming back that he is functionally dead to all of us anyway” so you’d think that they wouldn’t care if Dean is an asshole about it. Or at least, that they’d care dean is being an asshole and flippant to them, an archangel deserving his respect, but maybe not so much a little blasphemy because well. God doesn’t care about even the important things, so what’s a little quip from dean winchester?

“That’s my Father.” it’s like. “That’s my Father.” He left home and never came back. He abandoned Heaven, and he abandoned Michael, and he abandoned Raphael. He left. No instructions and a world to run. And Dean Winchester is making jokes while he stands at the epicenter of a godless universe.

It’s more personal here, right? In the show, there’s God, that amorphous idea of something all-powerful that made the world and skipped out on it, and then God, the father who had some kids and went out to get milk and cigarettes and didn’t come home. Venn diagram with a lot of crossover, but what starts in this scene, I think, as talking about the former and only the former, very quickly shifts into being about the latter. Dean’s taking the grandiose, the “Who ran off and disappeared. Who left no instructions and a world to run.” and turning it into the mundane, “Daddy ran away and disappeared. He didn't happen to work for the post office, did he?”

I’m not sure where I’m going with this. Just that there’s a difference between an insult to God as God and an insult to God as the father to angels, and the way Raphael responds to the latter, the way Dean is able to rile them up by pushing that interpretation into the conversation, is interesting to me. Careful. That’s their Father you’re talking about. A deadbeat dad is still their dad.

#raphael spn #idk. dean & Raphael fascinate me. I wish they had more arguments about their terrible dads together #Raphael’s resignation versus dean Winchester’s ability to be soo soo annoying #something about how spn insists that dads must be Respected. but it also knows that they are terrible sometimes. but that it doesn’t matter. #that you respect them anyway. because they don’t need to earn it. they are your dad and that’s enough. #or maybe I’m reading too much into this and it really is that dean is just so annoying #and Raphael doesn’t want to put up with his nonsense #I mean combine it with the way they’re clearly trying to address castiel the whole time and dean keeps butting #butting in. making the divine too human to bear. castiel might hear Raphael’s words and accept how god is to them. #dean hears them and goes ‘oh! let down by your dad huh? this is my wheelhouse.’ #idk. idk. #spn #dean winchester

[poligraf]

The light of the sun as it rises over the earth is by nature clear. The higher the sun rises, the more it emerges from the dark mists, spreading the pristine purity of its rays over an ever widening area. The real nature of man is likewise originally good, but it becomes clouded by contact with earthly things and therefore needs purification before it can shine forth in its native clarity.

Hexagram #35 from the I Ching · Progress · via Ask The Oracle

#quote #quotes #life quotes #wisdom #hexagram #i ching #oracle #divination #book of changes #light #sun #earth #nature #darkness #purity #human nature #humanity #good #good versus evil #purification #self-improvement #self-development #clarity

[sinnhelmingr]

✿ // @omen-promised​

send me a  ✿  and i’ll fill out the template below. bold for things i could definitely see or want, italics for things i could see or am unsure of and striked out for things i don’t want or cannot see.

FRIENDSHIP.     childhood friends  /  work buddies or coworkers  /  family friends  /  friends with benefits  /  smoking buddies  /  adventure buddies  /  fake friends  /  recently friends  /  party buddies  /  friendship of need  /  dying friendship  /  circumstantial friendship  /  partners in crime  /  old friendship  /  [ your muse ] is the good influence  /  [ your muse ] is the bad influence  /  [ my muse ] is the good influence  /  [ my muse ] is the bad influence  /  opposites attract  /  ride or die  /  frenemies  /  roommates or flatmates  /  penpals  /  exes to friends  /  enemies to friends  /  other

ROMANCE.     childhood sweethearts  /  [ your muse is mines ] childhood crush  /  [ my muse is yours ] childhood crush  /  exes  /  exes to lovers  /  forbidden lovers  /  highschool sweethearts  /  secret relationship  /  opposites attract  /  long distance  /  unrequited [ from your muses side ]  /  unrequited [ from my muses side ]  /  unrequited [ from both sides ]  /  skinny love  /  friends to lovers  /  enemies to lovers  /  spurious relationship  /  power couple  /  newly entered  /  soulmates [ metaphorical ]  /  soulmates  [ literal ]  /  awkward  /  turning toxic  /  toxic love  /  cheating [ on your muse ]  /  cheating [ with your muse ]  /  other

FAMILIAL.     siblings [ half ]  /  siblings [ step ]  /  [ my muse ] is an older sibling figure to your younger sibling figure  /  [ my muse ] is a younger sibling figure to your older sibling figure muse  /  [ my muse ] is a parental figure to yours  /  [ my muse ] is a child figure to your muse  /  guardian figure  /  legal guardian  /  adoptive child  /  foster child  /  [ your muse ] is taken under mines wing  /  [ my muse ] is taken under yours wing  /  other

ANTAGONISTIC.     dangerous to each other  /  dangerous to others  /  unpredictable  /  rivals  /  petty  /  developing into sexual or romantic tension  /  based off family matters  /  based of off circumstance  /  based of professional matters  /  based off misunderstanding or lies  /  conflict of ideology  /  betrayal  /  hero - villain dynamic  /  enemies  /  fight club  /  friends turned enemies  /  lovers turned enemies  /  exes turned enemies  /  other

#omen-promised #ok let's see if i can get this sorted: #one: he fascinates her. he's true entropy. ultimate change. the rebel son of the rebel father. the pawn turning king. #even for her own divinity and millennia of life she's pulled into his gravity. i suppose that's a given where he is concerned. #two: she has been in love with his father for countless generations. love the father love the son is a trope for a reason. #alternatively she loves the father so she is fond of the son. enjoys his company. a pity he had to be jackal-born. #three: all this aside they are at odds. the primal versus the infernal. Armageddon against Ragnarok. #if he wins over the mortal realm then she loses her chance at her own revenge. besides which she loves humanity who so often #suffer in his presence. he must be dealt with. even if she is a fan of his in all other ways. it's nothing personal thorn. just business.

[her-satanic-wiles]

Masterlist ⛧ Hellish Delights Masterlist

Words: 8k.

Warnings: Copia’s a piece of shit, rape, non-con elements but more dubcon, mentions of rape, use of the word rape, violent sex, rough sex, dubcon, cnc, filmed having sex (unknowingly), filmed having sex (knowingly), piv, vaginal sex, rough vaginal sex, blood kink, pain kink, rape fantasy, masturbation, semi-public sex, semi-public masturbation, dirty talk, Copia is a creepy old man, rape recreation, spit as lube, fear kink, fear play?, degradation, misogyny, references to free use, reference to bondage, somnophilia, dacrophilia, vaginal fingering, rough fingering, exhibitionism, caught masturbating (close call), groping, coercion; slut shaming, nipple play, fingering, hair pulling, breeding kink, victim blaming, naked woman clothed man, under-negotiated to non-negotiated kinks, possessive, marking kink, use of safeword (sort of), praise, objectification, poor mental health, detailed trauma, aftercare

Author's note: Hey, all! I promise I will get on Divine Desires soon, but this just kept itching away at my brain, and whoooo Nelly, was it difficult to ignore. But here we are now! Please heed the trigger warnings!

The Ghouls aren't demons in my fic. They're humans who work in the Ministry, but they're a different class of profession, somewhere between personal assistants and body guards, depending on the importance of Papa's task.

This is a work of fiction based in the extreme horror category and should be treated as such. I do not condone the actions the characters make, nor am I actively encouraging others to participate in such actions in everyday life. It also does not reflect the personalities of the performers who play these characters.

The purpose of this fic is to shock, scare, entertain, and make readers entirely uncomfortable. If you are not in a headspace where you can safely read and enjoy this story, or even if the trigger warnings make you uncomfortable, I highly recommend and encourage you not to read this. Your mental health is more important than a work of fiction.

If you are struggling to come to terms with past trauma, please talk to someone and seek professional help.

You deserve to feel safe, loved, and cared for. Thank you.

🔞 MDNI 🔞

As this is dark fiction, I'm choosing to rate it 21+. Please respect my rating. Thank you.

Phantom didn’t need to be unmasked for Papa Copia to know something was wrong. The ghoul barely made out two words before Copia stood and grabbed his candles. The frantic explanation was given as Copia whipped around his room, trying to find the correct materials. On such short notice, certain members of the clergy wouldn’t be available to help. So Copia would just have to make do with what he had. Or rather who he had. Phantom had told him the situation at hand, but none of Phantom’s words were able to prepare him for what he was going to see.

He could hear your moans - no, screams- echoing down the corridor from the other end - the loud pleasure in your voice bouncing off the walls and ringing in his ears atop the sounds of the ten or so pairs of feet clambering down the hall to reach you quickly.

“Will you cum on his cock?” It was Swiss’ voice that sounded above all else, dual-toned and demonic. He was well and truly lost to the possession now. “Will you cum on the cock that rapes you?” Rape. Satan only knew how long you’d been subjected to demonic torture. Yes, your voice was oozing with pleasure, but he could still hear the pain sneaking through it. He could taste your fear on his tongue. You’d consented in the end, as it sounded, but how much of that was genuine want versus the deluded, terrified mind clouded in order to protect its host from life-altering trauma.

“Yes!” You screamed looking back up into his eyes. “I’m gonna c-cum! I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna-!”

Copia swung the door open right as your orgasm hit, your mind clouding over and drool dripping from your mouth as you came all over Swiss’ cock. His eyes locked with yours and he had the unfortunate pleasure of watching the light fade, and your body go limp, bouncing with the rough force of Swiss’ hips as he continued to use you for his own gratification.

“You’re just in time, child.” The demon said, thrusts growing erratic. “Witness the gift of the Olde One.”

“He doesn’t advocate for such torment - especially on those undeserving.” Copia remarked as his clergymen took their positions in the room. The demon knew it was outmatched, and thus continued his assault on your body.

“Perhaps. But he advocates for rewards for his finest soldiers.”

“Ah, Asmodeus.”

“In the flesh, child.”

“Not for much longer.”

As the clergy began their chant, and the exorcism truly began, the demon Asmodeus made his final thrusts before releasing his spend into your unconscious body. Two of the Ministry’s ghouls, gargoyles more like, came forth to apprehend Swiss’ body and pull him away from you. Your hips fell onto the floor, ricocheting off the wood. Both Copia’s and Swiss’ eyes were trained on your severely abused core, the white flowing from you and dripping onto the ground, turning the faintest shade of pink as it mixed with the blood Swiss’ cock had forced out of you as he broke you. Copia could feel Asmodeus’ ferocity, his power surging at the sight of you, battered and bruised on the ground, leaking his cum. Given the surge of power coming from him, Asmodeus’ lust had mixed with Swiss’, both of them now fighting to bury themselves deep inside you again and have you once more to quench their lustful thirst.

Copia felt guilt wash over his body as it merged with an ocean of arousal. At the sight of Swiss’ cum spilling from you, his cock began to stir awake, wanting nothing more than to just get on his knees and take you as Asmodeus did. But he was your Papa, he could never bring himself to betray you, like that. If he was buried deep inside you, it would be with you as a willing participant, screaming beneath him, sure, but because he was taking you to paradise.

He shook himself out of the gross thoughts he was experiencing, and joined in to chant with his brethren. When he looked at Asmodeus finally, the demon shot Copia a knowing look before he was banished back to Hell, and Swiss’ unconscious body flopped exhaustedly to the floor. That look he received, told him that the demon saw right through him down to his very tainted soul. And though he knew the clergymen couldn’t read his mind like Asmodeus could, he still feared that someone could tell what he was thinking.

“Phantom,” Copia began, his voice shaky and weak until he cleared his throat, “we must take them all to the infirmary. Please go down and get as much help as you need. Wheelchairs should suffice.”

“Yes, Papa!”

Phantom, eager to save his closest friends turned on his heels and began his journey to the infirmary. Copia looked around the room, his eyes lingering as subtly as they could on each of the clergy’s lower regions, hoping he could find solidarity in such a fucked up situation. He couldn’t - which only added to his guilt.

He waited until everyone was settled on their chairs before he spoke again, giving specific instructions to each of the nurses who had come to assist with the tragedy, then addressing the clergy. “We must keep Swiss and the Sister separated,” he told everyone, “she has been through enough tonight without seeing his face again so soon.”

“What punishment for him, Papa?” a cardinal asked.

Copia sighed. “He was possessed - he would never do this in his right mind. I am… hesitant to sentence him. I’ll leave that up to the Sister’s good graces when she is strong enough to make those decisions. In the meantime, keep them separated.”

Copia followed you all the way down to the infirmary and stayed with you as you were getting immediate treatment. The bruises on your jaw were beginning to show, and your body was incredibly battered and red from the attack. But even so, even as he watched them mend you and put your broken pieces back together, his mind kept showing him your face - the expression twisted on it as you came around Swiss’ cock. The way you sounded still ringing in his ears - the sight of his seed dripping out of you.

He politely excused himself after making sure that you’d be okay and trotted back to his office, slamming the door shut behind him. By now, his erection was full of blood and aching to the touch against the confines of his jeans. His hands fumbled against his robes in desperation, throwing the garment over his head and onto the floor and leaning against the doorway as he pushed his jeans down far enough to expose himself. The cool, crisp autumn air making his balls tighten and his nipples erect beneath his shirt. His hand, still hidden beneath his leather glove, received a healthy glob of spit before he wrapped it around the head and began to stroke, spreading his saliva around and lubricating the slide.

He groaned at the sensation, his back fully pressed against the wood of his door. The slide was impeccable, but nothing compared to how you’d feel. Swiss wasn’t a small man by any capacity, and so Copia swallowed some guilt forming as he let his mind wander. Did he ruin your cunt? The amount of time he was inside you was so great, did he form a space just for him? Or were you still as tight as Copia wanted you to be? He imagined you’d still be nice and tight for him, though, he couldn’t help the way his cock twitched at the thought of him invading a space carved out by another man.

Copia always made it abundantly clear he wasn’t like other men, and sometimes that was to his detriment. For you, especially, he wanted you to feel safe around him, loved by him. He didn’t want you to be uncomfortable in any capacity because he prided himself on being one of the “good guys”, that he’d never betray you in the same way the other men did. He worshipped women, he’d never be misogynistic to one. He was a stand-up, tolerant man. Yet there he was, walking slowly towards his desk and positioning himself against it, rubbing his erection so hard and fast, his arm was beginning to ache in discomfort with the image of you being roughly taken by one of his hardest-working ghouls. And he couldn’t help imagine what it would feel like to have been in Swiss’ - no, Azmodeus’ position - how tightly you’d cling onto him as he used you for his own pleasure; how your delicious cries would travel all the way down to his erection and have you weeping below him. He wondered how deliciously you’d sound begging for him to stop, pleading with him to show you mercy as he took what he wanted and gave not a single fuck for your wants, desires, or even personal pleasure.

His eyes shut tight as he savoured the sensations he experienced when he swung the door open, the painful pleasure painted on your face as you came for Lucifer knows how many times. How you passed out and your body went limp from exhaustion, yet bounced at the violence of Swiss’ thrusts. How his mouth went dry when he saw your red and swollen pussy eject Swiss’ seed, and pool amongst your blood on the floor. And with that final sight, his own orgasm reached him - his cum spurted across his desk and gathered on the wood, sending flashbacks to Swiss’ cum gathering the same way beneath you. He grunted animalistically, mouth hanging open as his body tingled from the force of his orgasm, toes curling in his boots and hand slowly coming to a halt, yet still wrapped tightly around his cock.

This was when the guilt was beginning to set in. Though you may have consented towards the end - you weren’t in your right mind. Copia had no idea just how long you’d been the subject of Azmodeus’ torment - or rather, torture - and thus knew that whatever happened to you earlier was not done with your willingness and permission. Yet there he was, eyes fixated on his cum as though it had tumbled from your delectable core, with disgust filling him from bottom to top as he realised just how gross he’d been. If you found out about this - you’d never trust him again. The Satanic Church didn’t welcome things like this in the same way Catholocism did. Granted they pretended they didn’t, but no actions were taken against the perpetrators of such crimes. And he was Papa. He was supposed to keep you safe. He’d failed you then, and as he wiped his spend from the mahogany, he realised he’d failed you now.

Life passed without incident until a few days later, when it had been brought to his attention by one of the guitar techs that Swiss kept disappearing from his duties and no one knew where he went for hours at a time. Copia knew. He didn’t want to believe it, but he had his suspicions. Immediately, he went into his office and switched on the computer, clicking away at menus and windows until he found what he was looking for: the security camera footage. He clicked on the first video in date chronological order and sat there, studying each frame. At first, nothing happened: it was just Swiss sitting at the foot of your bed, and by the looks of his shoulders - he was sobbing. He saw you two engaging in conversation - how your eyes widened in apparent fear as you registered who was there with you. He couldn’t help the stirrings of excitement at the sight of you visibly recoiling from Swiss’ presence, and then later from his comforting touch. Then, it all happened so fast.

One moment you were having a conversation, you nodded at him and then Copia watched as Swiss climbed on top of you. He was like an animal - a desperate, hungry animal that needed to be sated immediately or he’d die of whatever ailment was afflicting him. Swiss pawed at your bedsheets and hospital gown as he exposed your heavily bruised body to the elements, and spreading your legs wide enough to fit himself in between them. Swiss immediately pushed into you, and you winced as though you felt the same searing pain you felt the first time he did. But after a few uncomfortable thrusts, the pleasure returned once more, and your hands, now finally responding, flew to his shoulders and grasped on, digging your nails into his skin.

Copia’s cock was standing to attention at the sight of Swiss taking you again, and you accepting him willingly. And this time, he knew it was willing - your head nod was enough for him to know that you wanted Swiss inside you again - you wanted to feel that fucking cock take you for a second time. Copia was all but foaming at the mouth, fumbling with his robes once again and freeing his achingly hard cock. He barely even had the wherewithal to spit on it, so desperate to time his hands with Swiss’ hips, he was more than willing to start rubbing himself dry. Any pain he felt could be retribution for his perverted actions.

He cursed - partly at the feel of his cock being abused by his own hand, but also in frustration at the stupid, shitty fucking cameras they put everywhere had no fucking sound! Sweet Satan, he’d give his left nut to hear what Swiss was saying to you, and he’d give his right one to hear your response. He couldn’t even see Swiss’ lips to lip read anything, so instead he let his mind to the work.

He imagined Swiss telling you how much of a whore you were for him, letting him fuck you in an infirmary where anyone could walk in. He imagined Swiss reminding you of what he did to you the day before, and how he would do it again and again if he could. Lucifer knows Copia would. Copia would keep you bound and gagged and spread wide open for him to use as and when he saw fit. Copia would take your tight little cunt for hours at a time, and offer you no reprieve until he had his fill. What if Swiss was telling you that he wanted to do that very thing to you? Would Swiss let Copia have a turn on you? Would Swiss watch? Before Copia had chance to cum, Swiss had already done so, and was climbing off you. Copia loosened the grip on his dick but still continued to watch as Swiss walked away.

The next video was dated to the very next day, and began with Swiss entering your room while you were asleep. His hand reached up your legs and dipped below the comforter. That fucking scrap of fabric was obstructing his view, but Copia understood exactly what was going on, especially when your hips started bucking in response. He was fondling your body as he played with your clit, biting his lip and molesting you as you slept. Your body clearly wanted it, though, given how willingly your legs parted and your hips chased the pleasure. When your eyes fluttered open, so achingly innocent Copia wanted to bite you, again there was a flash of fear behind your eyes before you became soothed at Swiss’ face. He was smiling, a devilish grin that would no doubt make even Copia quake in his boots, but you, still sporting bandages and unable to make full expressions, were staring at him, daring him to take it further. You didn’t say anything, you couldn’t, but instead you pointed up at the camera, and for a brief moment, Copia felt his heart fall out of his ass as both you and Swiss were looking directly at him. Neither of you knew Copia was there, of course. At that time, no one was. But it didn’t stop Copia from feeling like he’d just been caught by you both with his cock in his hand and said hand rubbing it vigorously, like a horny teenager who’d peered into the girl’s locker rooms.

Swiss took the comforter and pulled it off your body, folding it haphazardly over the foot of the bed and exposing your pretty, little cunt to the room. Given the camera was positioned to your right and in the corner of the room, he couldn’t see everything he wanted to see, but he got a glimpse of your labia parting as Swiss’ fat fingers spread them to access your cunt. His fingers entered you, and wasted no time stretching you open for him. Copia watched your body jiggle helplessly beneath the wrath of his hands, and how little Swiss cared for your hands grappling onto him and holding on for dear life. Copia’s hand once again matched Swiss’ tempo, and found himself coming to the edge far quicker than he wanted, but he just couldn’t stop himself.

Ashamedly, Copia came before he could even finish the second video. Your face was contorted in absolute agony as Swiss pushed into you and fucked you hard without giving you a moment’s rest to recover and get used to his size. Copia’s cum landed on his screen, splattering all over your pixelated face as a fucked up cum tribute. Copia wondered how your face would look covered in his cum in real life, and that almost got his cock standing on edge again. The guilt settled in soon after, but not as much as it did the first time he came to you. This time because your consent was all over these encounters. You let Swiss fuck you now, legs spread for him willingly and screams no doubt wanton for his cock. You let him maneuver your body in ways benefiting the security camera. You nodded, and cursed, and screamed out your consent as Swiss played with you. His only guilt now was that you didn’t know he was watching you.

Yet, he downloaded each and every single one of those videos (there were seven in total, one of each day of your time in the infirmary), and each one a varying degree of fucked up with you in a varying state of healed. In one of those videos, Swiss had just decided to stick his dick inside you as you slept, and you had no idea he was even there until he’d been gone thirty minutes and you felt his cum oozing out of you. Copia watched you use Swiss’ cum as lube and masturbate for hours, cumming four times just with your fingers and glistening with both his release and your own. If he wasn’t such an old man, he’d have joined you in your multiple orgasms. Alas, though his cock was very much interested, his body would have no more of it today.

A day didn’t go by where he’d load up one of the security camera videos and jerk off in his office. By the end of the two weeks you’d been out of the infirmary, and when you’d recovered enough to return to your duties, he’d replayed each of the videos several times. It was like he was addicted, choosing only those videos. When he’d decided to quit them, for fear that his actions and attitudes would change towards you, he’d become unbearably miserable and frustrated with everyone and everything. Everyone noticed the difference, and even gave him a wide berth, just in case he snapped or shouted, something he never used to do. It got to the point where those videos became a necessity, and he hated himself for it. He would continue to hate himself twice a day or a week further before the inevitable happened.

All that time spent with his hand on his cock in his office meant that one day, a knock would come mid-stroke, and he’d be forced to conduct a meeting with a raging boner. It happened, and as he scrambled to close the video and cover his modesty, you walked through the door. Satan, he wanted to pounce on you. Despite all you’d been through the previous month, your demeanour had barely changed. In order to appear respectful to your superiors, you still crept through the door with wide, innocent eyes, body closing in on itself in shyness and submission. Before, he thought this was endearing - telling of your sweet personality. Now, it made him want to rip your clothes off you, bury himself inside you, and take you until you were screaming his name, and shaking beneath him. His cock twitched when you made eye contact with him, and spoke in a soft voice, “You wanted to see me, Papa?”

He did? Fuck - he did! How could he forget he sent one of his ghouls to find you this morning? He needed to know what to do about Swiss - although, the CCTV footage of your infirmary room told him all he needed to know. You didn’t know that he knew, and so he had to at least keep up appearances. “Yes, tesoro.” He gestured to the sofa in front of his desk. “Please, sit.” You sat so prettily on his sofa, making sure your habit was draped in such a way that preserved any modesty you may have had. It all seemed like a viscous facade now. He knew who you truly were when you were naked and vulnerable. “How is your recovery?”

There was still a faint bruise on your jaw from the assault, but otherwise it looked like you were almost completely healed. You confirmed as much in your response, finalising it with a sincere, “thank you.” Those two syllables felt like punches to his gut. ‘Thank you, Papa, for caring about me, and worrying about me. I appreciate you.’ Meanwhile, he used one of the most traumatic experiences of your life as his masturbation material and betrayed your trust twice daily.

“Are you starting therapy now?”

You nodded. “I’ve only had two sessions so far, but she’s already helping me work through things.”

Copia nodded. “That is excellent news, tesoro. You should be proud of yourself.”

“Thank you, Papa. And, I wanted to say thank you for saving me back then. I’m sorry it’s taken so long for me to tell you, but I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t have come when you did.”

He swallowed, the guilt eating him alive as his mind showed him your face as it came around Swiss’ cock - the first time he’d seen it. His posture changed, allowing his right hand to naturally rest on his thigh, before travelling true north and beginning to rub over his clothed bulge as subtly as he could manage. “Please, do not thank me. I only have your safety and wellbeing at heart.” Fucking liar. “Anyone would have done the same.”

“Even still, thank you.”

“It is actually why I wanted to see you today. I wanted you to be strong enough to have this conversation with me. Swiss committed a vile sin, even one Sathanas cannot support. As you know, He is all for depravity but only when all are happy with said depravity. He needs to be punished - let the punishment fit the crime. I wanted you to decide the punishment, as you were the victim in all of this. How do you think we should punish him, tesoro? No limits, what you say goes.”

As expected, the look on your face was made up of stunned silence. Your eyes widened in fear. You didn’t want Swiss to be punished. You’d already forgiven him. The look on your face had his hand applying pressure to his cock. Fuck, you had no right looking this sinful. “I don’t want him to be punished, Papa.” You said quietly.

“But, tesoro… he-”

“I know. But he didn’t, did he? He was possessed. And you sent the demon back to Hell, right? I think that’s punishment enough. Let our Dark Lord punish the demon for his crimes and have him suffer for eternity in the pits of Hell.”

“Well, no punishment will be given to Swiss, if that’s what you ask. I must say, this is highly irregular. A testament to your kindness, I suppose. How do you feel about Swiss?” He was skirting dangerous territory now, but he couldn’t help himself. He wondered if he could use your trust in himself against you, and have you admit to sleeping with Swiss. Copia didn’t know what he’d do if he heard those words fall from your mouth, but he poked and prodded nonetheless. “Would you be comfortable being around him again?”

“I believe so, yes.”

Copia raised his brows in fake surprise. “You truly are incredible, tesoro. After everything? I’m in awe of you. I’m surprised to hear that. Perhaps we can start with - eh - supervised socialising until you’re used to seeing him again.”

You nodded in response, eyes to the ground and refusing to make eye contact. You were shifty. You were withholding the truth. You were obvious about it.

“Tesoro?” He asked, allowing his voice to be just a fraction sterner than usual. “Is something wrong?”

“No, Papa.”

“Then why aren’t you looking at me?” There was silence for a moment. “You’ve already seen him, haven’t you?”

You nodded.

Copia deliberately sighed. “Well, you are a grown adult, tesoro. I cannot stop you from seeing anyone you do not wish to. But you should know I disapprove. He could still have been dangerous to you. I couldn’t bear it if he hurt you again.” There was silence again. “What are you not telling me, Sister?”

“I- Please don’t be disappointed in me, Papa.”

“I could never be disappointed in you. Please, tell your Papa what’s troubling you.”

The flood gates opened. You were desperate to share the information with someone. Clearly, you’d not been doing so with your therapist. You confessed to everything, how Swiss came to you when you first woke up, how he’d fucked you every day since. Not that you used such explicit words. He’d taken advantage of your nervousness and lack of eye contact, and had gotten more and more brazen with the movement of his hand over his cock, openly masturbating now beneath his desk. He didn’t expect you to look up - he didn’t think you would. But as you were talking, you glanced at him every now and again, so quickly he missed every one. Until your talking had slowed and a soft, “Papa?” Fell from your lips. Your eyes were now fixated on his hand, a hint of betrayal glistening in them. Copia didn’t stop now - he couldn’t. The look on your face had travelled straight to his cock, and now he was going to take this opportunity to take you. “You already knew that I’d seen Swiss, didn’t you?”

“Sì.”

You swallowed. “H-how?” By this point you’d stood from the sofa.

“I think you know.”

“You saw…?”

“Every one.”

You turned your back to him, hand over your mouth and tears of humiliation threatening to spill. The second you saw the camera, you should have refused Swiss. But the thrill was too much and you couldn’t say no. You also couldn’t lie and say you felt completely and utterly betrayed by your Papa - because while you were, and had every right to be, you also felt heat pooling between your legs at the thought of Copia watching every single time Swiss was inside you.

You didn’t hear Copia stand or approach you. You only knew he was there when you felt him press up against you, hands snaking round your waist and pulling you towards him. Any piece of you that he could get his hands on, he did so: gripping your thighs, stomach, breasts. His chin rested on your shoulder, lips mere centimetres from your ear as he spoke. “Perhaps there are other ways to work through your thoughts, hm? Do you want that? You know, for all I saw, I didn’t hear much of anything. That first night in the infirmary, what did he say to you, tesoro? What did he say that made you part your legs so willingly, so soon?”

“H-he…” You felt Copia remove your veil, pulling it to the floor and exposing your hair.

“Go on?” He urged as his hands began to unbutton your habit. They were moving sinfully slow, almost painfully so. It was as if he were dragging this out on purpose just to spite you, or drive you insane. Perhaps both were true.

“He told me that he was sorry.” Copia had dipped his hands beneath the shoulders of your outfit and dragged it down your body to pool at your feet, his lips immediately attaching themselves to your near-naked shoulder. If it wasn’t for that infernal bra strap, he’d have you completely bare for him. “He told me that he felt bad for what he did.”

“And that’s all you need, Sister? An apology has you spreading your legs for any man who offers one?”

“No! He-” You bit your lip, now feeling his hands unclasp your bra, one hook at a time. “He told me that he felt guilty for finding it so hot. But that he…” Your bra fell to the floor and you swallowed.

“Keep going.”

“He couldn’t stop touching himself to the thought of it.”

Copia groaned behind you, his teeth grazing your delicate skin. His gloved hands moved up to your nipples and began to pull and play with them, rolling them through his index finger and thumb. His hard cock rubbed gently against your clothed ass, showing you just how desperate he’d become.

“He’s a talker, isn’t he?”

You nodded.

“Tell me, tesoro. What else did that filthy mouth of his tell you? What got you so riled up for you to let him fuck you in your hospital bed?”

One of his hands released your nipple and gently traced the curves of your stomach all the way down to your panties. His fingers dipped beneath the waistband, and immediately went in search of your clit. He needed no map to find it, it as as if he already knew your body and how it worked - perhaps it was all the videos he watched of his ghoul doing the exact same thing to you. He worked your clit in gentle circles to begin with, fully content on just teasing you until he got the information he wanted out of you. You released a soft moan in response, reaching your left arm behind you to grip onto his greying hair. Your right hand clutched at his wrist, and held on tightly as he continued his assault - an assault you welcomed with open arms.

“Papa!” You whispered. “I can’t.”

He tutted. “She’s getting bashful on me now, no? Seems a bit late for false modesty when I watched your cunt get spread on a camera. You can and you will. What did he say to you?”

Though his voice never raised, it did become more stern. It didn’t feel as though he’d take no for an answer. Just like Asmodeus, he would use you with or without your willingness being present. Unlike with Asmodeus, you knew Copia would stop if you really asked him to. He could be an asshole sometimes, but he wasn’t a monster. You didn’t want to tell him no. That night unlocked something in you that at first you’d only thought about doing again with Swiss, but now with Papa willing to give you what you wanted, it turned out you wanted this again, over and over until you were some kind of brainless toy.

Copia pinched your clit between his fingers when you were taking too long. “I won’t ask again, Sorella.”

“Fuck!” You screamed. It was painful, of course it was, but your scream was oozing with pleasure, just like it was when Copia had walked in on Asmodeus taking you. “He loved how wet I got! He - fuck, Papa! - He loved me c-creaming on his cock. He loved hearing me cry out for him, and begging for him to-”

“To what?” Copia’s finger now rubbed in circles, faster and with a lot more pressure. “Say it!”

You were talking much faster than before, the words spilling from your mouth before you could even process them. “He want to hear me beg him to fuck me over and over. Wanted to turn me into his toy. Get me pregnant. Papa, please!”

He bit your ear softly. “Did you enjoy it, tesoro? That night with the demon? Did you love it?”

“Mmmmm fuck! Not at first! He - shit - hurt me. But then it - it felt good towards the end.”

“How many times did you cum?”

“I d-don’t remember. Maybe twice?”

Copia groaned again. “Puttana.”

Your hips were bucking wildly, chasing a high that Copia was right on the precipise of giving you. You were so close. You needed it. “I’m gonna cum! Papa! Papa!”

“Cum all over your Papa’s fingers like a common fucking whore, that’s it!”

The dam broke and the floodwaters emerged, your orgasm hitting you like a ten-tonne truck and tensing your body from head to toe. Those very toes were now curling into the rug, your fingers tightening in his hair causing him to let out his own screams. You had no idea what your body was doing, and the fact that you were yelling throughout the entirety of your orgasm, howling like a banshee as tears fell from your eyes at the intensity of it all.

“On your back on the floor.” Copia instructed.

You did as you were told, lying your bare back against the plush of the rug. Copia’s face crumpled at the sight, though. He wanted you on the wood. So, he nudged you with his shoe to get your attention, shook his head and pointed to where he wanted you. You obliged, and spread your legs as soon as the cold shock had dissipated from your body.

“You get off on this, don’t you?” He said, removing his robes and reaching for his zipper. “On being used and manhandled against your will.”

You nodded.

“Is that why you let Swiss use you every fucking day, eh? Are you trying to relive it?”

You hesitated for a moment too long, and Copia took that as confirmation. He chuckled darkly, unzipping his jeans and removing his cock from its confines, finally letting it breathe after you almost catching him at the beginning. “Do you know what, tesoro?” He began to position himself above you, lining up with your sopping heat and rubbing himself against your clit. Your fingernails dug into the floor at the oversensitivity that had now begun to set in, your heart racing with anticipation. He pulled your hips closer to him, having you partly resting on his thighs, immaturely laughing a little at the sound your body made as it was dragged against the floor. “I got off on it too.”

He delighted in the way your eyes lit up with so many emotions, before finally allowing your face to contort with the pleasure of him pushing his cock inside you. There was lust in your eye, of course, remembering how you made eye contact with Papa as you reached your second orgasm that night. You remembered the last thoughts that raced around your head before you blacked out. Now that you’re thinking about it, you remembered seeing a primal look in Copia’s eyes underneath his concern, and the thought made you tighten around Copia’s cock that had begun slamming into you, after deeming you ready enough.

“Swiss was feral for you afterwards,” he told you, eyes fixated on your cunt as it squeezed him, “we had to restrain him with multiple gargoyles because he was going to go back in for a second turn.”

“Fuck, Papa!”

“And now I see why - cazzo!” A string of Italian fell from his lips that you couldn’t quite understand. But it didn’t matter, the thought of Swiss fighting against the Ministry’s protectors in order to get inside you a second time had set your body alight - the primal need to satiate his hunger now ingrained in your mind for the rest of time. You allowed loud moans to fall from your lips as the angle Copia fucked you at had his cock hitting your g-spot each time. “His - his cum… and your blood - fuck! - I wanted to taste it then see how my cum would look mingling with both of you. If I wasn’t surrounded by the clergy, I might have had my fill there and then too.”

You bit your lip and gripped onto his strong arms, those arms and hands grasping onto your hips for leverage as he roughly fucked into you, getting deeper and deeper to now have his tip hit your cervix and his shaft rub constantly against that sweet spot. You were losing your mind, mewling out for Papa as he took you on his office floor. “You sh-should have anyway!” You mumbled through your moans.

Copia’s eyebrows raised. “Yeah? You wanted me to fuck you in the ritual room with the clergy watching? Fucking Jezebel. You always seemed so sweet, Sister. Who knew you were so filthy? Is that why you agreed to the ritual in the first place, tesoro? You like it when people watch?”

“Yes!”

At this revelation, Copia began to thrust harder. This wasn’t usually a turn on for him - in fact, he’d never really thought much about it before - but the idea that you would get off on it had him harder than he ever had been in his life. He wondered how far it would go - if you imagined the other members of the clergy joining in in some capacity. How many of them could you have taken before it became too much? How many before you woke up? What about when you were awake? How would you react knowing that all the clergy members were touching themselves in a circle around you as Copia railed you for a ritual? Would you willingly open your mouth for them? Would you let them cum on you? Had you done this before? Was this a revelation that was new to you after Asmodeus? Copia’s mind was racing with questions and possibilities.

His mind snapped out of its musings to watch you beneath him, taking his cock to the hilt and loving every second of it. It felt so good, your mouth was hanging open and drool was slipping from the corners. Your eyes rolled back, eyebrows furrowed and sweat glistening over your body. You were so wet, creaming on Copia’s dick and he watched the strings of your juices pull and snap with his movements. With every passing second, every thrust, he understood why Swiss couldn’t get enough of you, why Asmodeus fought tooth and claw to get inside you again. Copia would be inside you every single day if you let him. He wanted to watch you bounce off his cock every day, watch your body jiggle at the force of his thrusts, how your tits jerked while his cock ravaged your insides. The way your ass ricocheted off the ground each time he moved had him damn near feral for you. You resorted him down to his animalistic instincts, his primal urges. He just wanted to bite you as he fucked you, mark you, claim you, show the world that you were his.

He wondered how Swiss would react to finding marks on you that didn’t belong to him. He imagined Swiss getting angry - he shouldn’t but he did. Fucking you within an inch of your life, bruising your body in multiple ways while he was deep inside you, reminding you that you belonged to him. Sathanas, he wished he could strip you bare and uncover Swiss’ artwork on you, and add more of his own. It was fucked up but he needed it and so, without much thought, he lifted your leg, bent himself over you and bit wherever he could reach, painfully biting and sucking hickeys onto your body. You screamed with the onslaught, your own fingernails and hands digging into his flesh and leaving marks of your own. But, after the third bite, you let go with one hand and began to furiously rub at your clit, relishing the pain and fucking yourself to a second orgasm, and shaking with the force of it. You tightened impossibly around Copia’s cock, forcing him to rest while you finished yourself off. But Copia wasn’t done with you. Not even the slightest bit. “On your stomach, tesoro.”

Your eyes widened a little, a small inch of panic setting in. “What?”

“Stomach. Now.”

“Copia…”

The use of his name hit him like a punch to the gut. “What’s wrong?” He said, his voice dripping with concern, not an ounce of lust in his eyes anymore. He noticed. He was taking it seriously.

“Please not my stomach.” He wasn’t there for the first half of your torment - he didn’t see what Asmodeus did to you. You wanted to explain why, but you couldn’t find the words. But Copia seemed to understand immediately.

He nodded, “Of course, tesoro. D-do you want to stop?” He asked the question almost like an afterthought, but it came to him nonetheless.

“No. Please.”

“Please what?”

“I-”

“We can go as dark or as soft as you like, amore. Please what? Tell me how you want me to fuck you.”

“Take what you need. Use me, Papa. Please.” You said, your voice tapering off to a desperate whimper.

Copia groaned, a visceral, gutteral sound. “Spawn of Satan, begging me to use her like a fucking toy, eh? As you wish, tesoro. Take my fucking cock. It’s what you were made for, right?” He dropped your hips dramatically, kind of showing you now that he had no interest in making you feel good now. It was all about him from this point onwards, and you were going to know about it. He positioned himself above you, completely trapping you beneath him now, and began to slam into you so hard, your body moved across the floor each time. Grunts and groans were ripped from your throat involuntarily, spilling your truth into his ears whether you liked it or not - the helpless feeling had you wrapping around him like a vice, and refusing to loosen the grip.

“Gonna fuck this cunt every day.” He continued, muttering mostly to himself. “Might keep you in my chambers, spread out and ready for me to use at any point.” You tightened. “Or better yet, keep you naked and tied to my desk so I can use this hole when I’m stressed. You want that, hm?”

“Yes, Papa!”

“Tell me.”

“I want t-to be your toy! I want you to use me every day. I want your cock inside me every day. Please, Papa!”

“Such a good slut for me. Swiss trained this cunt well, didn’t he?”

“Yes! Made me ready to please my Papa whenever he wants me. Trained me to take all of Papa’s cum and not spill a drop.”

“Filthy whore. Take my fucking cum. T-take it all. Merda! Cum- cumming!”

Copia’s groan filled the room much louder than any of your moans ever did, drowning out the sound of his hips slapping against your wetness over and over again. His thrusts became more and more erratic until he eventually stilled inside you, completely emptying his balls and filling you to the brim. He felt so good inside you, like you were made to take him. He stayed inside you for a little while before pulling out and removing himself from your body, and that was when you felt it.

All of the helplessness from before returned the moment Copia stopped touching you, and you realised just how vulnerable you’d allowed yourself to be with someone other than Swiss. Tears began to fall, and wracked sobs took over your body as you lay naked on his floor, an ache beginning to form in your core as you tucked your body in on itself. Copia, who was putting himself back together, immediately dropped his robe and dropped back to his knees, enveloping you in a tight hug and pulling you close to him, allowing you to hide your face in his chest. “I got you, schricchio.” He said, bringing back the pet name that you loved. The ultimate comfort nickname. “You’re safe. I got you.” He rocked you back and forth, shushing you gently and rubbing your skin. “I got you.” He let you cry. You obviously needed to.

With Swiss, it all felt different because he was just as tormented as you were. His body was assaulted too, and despite his body being in the dominant role, he had no control and no way to stop it. The guilt ate him alive when he wasn’t inside you - when you weren’t begging him for it. But Copia? Copia was your boss - the head of your church - a man who you’d spent the better part of a decade trusting and loving. You’d never let him see you like this before, never let him catch you being weak and powerless. You saw that despite the nature of your coming together, you could still trust him. He still cared deeply about you and your emotional needs. When you almost told him to stop, he would have, and in fact, he almost did.

“I’m sorry for being too rough with you.” He told you. “I’m sorry for starting this.”

“No.” You said through tears. “I liked it.”

“No, schricchio. I took advantage. I’m sorry.”

He let go of you just for a brief second to grab his robe, and wrap you up in it, trying to warm you up as soon as he heard your teeth chattering. It was the adrenaline wearing off, he knew that, but still he wanted to do everything he could to comfort you after that. “Thank you.” You whispered through tears.

“I want you to listen to me, okay? No one is ever going to do any of that to you again without your consent first. I should have protected you better the first time, ___. I’ll do better in the future.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“It wasn’t yours, either. And I’m here if you want anything. A talk, a distraction, a friend.”

You sniffed. “Were you serious about locking me up in your chambers and having your wicked way with me?”

He chuckled. “Why are you interested?”

“I might be.”

“We’ll see. For now, lie on my sofa. I’ll get you cleaned up soon, but for now get some rest, schricchio.”

He helped you off the floor and led you to the plush couch you sat on before. He sat on the floor while you got comfortable and held your hand as you began to drift off to sleep. All the while, his thumbs rubbed against your skin, and every now and then, you felt a gentle kiss on the back of your hand. You were safe with him. You always would be.

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#the band ghost #ghost bc #ghost #ghost band #ghost the band #ghost fanfiction #ghost fan fiction #ghost fanfic #ghost fandom #the band ghost fanfiction #papa emeritus iv #papa emeritus iv x reader #papa emeritus iv x reader smut #papa emeritus iv smut #papa iv x reader #papa iv #papa iv x reader smut #papa iv smut #copia #copia x reader #copia x reader smut #copia smut #papa copia #papa copia x reader #papa copia x reader smut #papa copia smut #ghost copia #copia emeritus #copia fanfiction #popia copia

[fefairys]

"The session always "knows" things about players. It knows Karkat has blood issues, so it gave him a planet full of bright red blood. It knows Dave has a thing about broken swords, which is tied up with his personal mythology related to the intersection between intense combat training for his destined role as a warrior, and deeply traumatizing abuse which causes him to resist the call to such heroism. He cites said abuse in the text above, in case there's any doubt this issue has been inseparably woven into the lore of his arc at an early stage. There's a lot to say about the broken sword as a symbol... First, there are two symbolic modes, an "Unbroken Sword" and a "Broken Sword," which have meaning in relation to each other. The simplest translation is that the unbroken sword is "The fully manifest, wholly embraced heroic arc. Suppressing reservations, answering the call, putting the tough training to use, despite the cost to oneself." Versus the broken sword, which is "The fractured heroic arc. An incomplete, broken self stemming from past trauma. A conflicted semi-refusal of the call, resulting in pursuit of combat and quest-fulfillment navigated through half-measure, wavering resolve, and compromised investment." Only one of these symbols can be fully embraced, and it means something to embrace one over the other. It becomes a statement Dave is making about himself, and the type of person he wants to be. But the statement has to be understood by him to be meaningful, and this understanding comes through his long-term inner reflections over his arc. The game also seems to provide frequent clues to help him understand these symbols and choices. It keeps offering up broken swords, or more specifically, a whole sword that can only be obtained by figuring out how to break it."

"So here's a spin on the Arthurian legend (Caledfwlch is another name for Arthur's Excalibur) where the sword, instead of being removed through strength or the divine touch of a chosen one, must be broken to be freed. There's no other way, since this is how this game challenge was designed to be solved. It says, "This is a symbol for your heroic journey, and to some extent, who you are as a person. Now, what will you do with it?" In the long run, this sword-based Sburb quest does appear to have a formal endpoint, which is Dave using this sword to have his denizen forge the Royal Deringer, a much fancier mythical sword. And in forging that sword, he "heals" it, converting it to an unbroken sword symbol. Heroic arc, back on track, right? Except to wield that sword, Dave has to break it too, simply by touching it, as if his identity being linked to a broken sword is inescapable."

"There are ways of reading into what this means. Maybe it's that making yourself whole as a person isn't so simple? Maybe it's that Dave embracing the broken sword as his heroic talisman corresponds with his embracing who he is as person, flaws and all? Those things aren't going away, and they contribute to making him who he is. Similar to Rose's arc, which is more about embracing her imperfect sense of humanity rather than satisfying an external sense of obligation that includes the false promise of repairing the flaws of a damaged person through a path of shallow narrative regimentation. There are echoes of "two people who can't be fixed, and that's okay" in each other's arcs, but a lot of differences in the way their respective roads are paved to reach the destination." -Andrew Hussie

#sams reading homestuck again #homestuck #dave #gif

[sepublic]

No but the way Pucci being Christian is so intertwined with his motives as a villain... He’s every story I’ve heard of the Christian convert who suffered something horrible and senseless, and after drifting through life lost and without a sense of purpose, found hope by believing in God. He’s so many stories of tragedy I’ve seen where people managed to cope by finding peace in the idea that this is all part of God’s divine, incomprehensible plan; It’s fate, it’s his will, and by accepting it they can move on. It’s for a reason, even if they’ll never understand what they’re looking at.

That’s what Heaven is for Pucci; His core trauma is a series of horrific coincidences with no rhyme or reason, and so he latches onto the idea that it’s all part of “his” plan, God and/or DIO’s. That’s why he finds comfort in knowing the future, knowing it’s all in the hands of Fate and removing his own blame and agency, which is why the narrator asks the viewer to judge for ourselves who did wrong, when we see the backstory of Wes, Enrico, and Perla. Pucci made a decision and it backfired horribly, so he doesn’t want to choose anymore.

It’s the way Pucci’s desire to be the messianic hero screws him over and causes tragedy; He’s so devoted to his position as a priest that rather than sabotaging it in order to just tell Perla the truth to her face (thus breaking the rules of the confessional), Pucci relies on this roundabout method so he can have it both ways, only to cause heartbreak and death. Pucci is so desperate to save humanity to make up for his own guilt and failure that he resets the universe, making him the worst kind of evil in his brother’s eyes; One totally oblivious to its nature. Pucci begs to die a martyr from Weather Report and Emporio, rather than just dying here and now.

Ungalo and Rikiel are prepared to die for Pucci once he gives them a sense of purpose to all of the inexplicable misfortune in their lives; Versus is also emboldened by this realization, but chooses to weaponize it for himself. The sons of DIO are people who all went through misfortune their whole lives, they’re ‘children of God’ who find comfort in devoting themselves to something they can actually believe in, that they believe will take care of them in some way; Like many Christians following the path of God, believing Heaven is waiting for them at the end of the tribulation and that it will all be worth it, that it all meant something and mattered and served a cause, like them. 

Pucci and the sons of DIO can no longer bear the pain and uncertainty of moving forward, so they aspire, Pucci especially, for a world where fate will move things along for them. They don’t have to take the first step, especially not Pucci, when Made in Heaven’s reset will compel him and everyone else to do what’s fated, regardless of what they try. 

Pucci fears and admires the courage of the Joestars who are able to step forward and face fate, engage and grapple with it, rather than just blindly accept and surrender in despair. If Diavolo precedes Pucci as someone too resistant of fate, Pucci is the opposite; Someone too resigned to it. Unlike the Joestars who know their fate but can work with what’s written in stone to change the other details. 

It’s why Pucci admires the first human to try a mushroom despite knowing it could kill them; But rather than put in the effort to get up to their level, Pucci would rather everyone stoop to his own, and claims he’s just sparing people noble yet needless pain (He’s only sparing himself by avoiding the reminder that he could and should be braver than this). He says he pities the human who tried a mushroom, adding that they were probably only motivated by hunger and desperation, and had no choice anyway.

I think Pucci is secretly envious of that courage, and that’s why he always downplays it afterwards by suggesting it’s foolishness rather than bravery. Pride, Envy, Wrath... Sloth given his despair, and a bit of Greed with the $800 dollar pants. Then there’s the BDSM vibes of Whitesnake for Lust, all that’s missing is Gluttony, which I guess the cherries and being devoured by the Green Baby account for...?

In all seriousness, Pucci wants guidance; He surrenders himself to God, follows the instructions led by DIO, and relies on Fate to tell him what to do when Made in Heaven resets the universe. Remember that time Pucci got around his brother’s Heavy Weather by removing his sight, and forcing Anasui to guide him? Yeah.

There’s a reason why Whitesnake obsesses with preserving the past, and I think part of it boils down to Pucci being afraid of its counterpart the Future; Which Made in Heaven, not entirely unlike King Crimson, allows Pucci to speed through and glimpse, to get through the worst of it ASAP and lessen the pain. He doesn’t want to accept that sometimes things just… happen.

#jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #enrico pucci #stone ocean #character analysis #meta

[rius-cave]

There's this Sir Peatious angst theory that after you get redeemed or reborn you don't remember what your life was like before you got reborn, in Sir Peatious's case he wouldn't remember his egg boys or the hotel or cherry bomb (you can see how that would make for some killer angst), but what if this happens with sinner Adam? He would probably still hate Lucifer for everything that happened in the garden and still think of himself as the “Dickmaster” but he wouldn't remember Lute, or the extermination, and even what happened to Vaggie, do you think he would view the sinners or even hell itself differently now? Would he hate Lucifer even more? How would he view Charlie's goal of recommendation for sinners in a more positive light? I would love to know your thoughts :)

P.S. Sorry for the long ask btw you don't have to answer all or any of my questions but I would really appreciate your input

I've seen art of this! Ooohhoho it hurts soooo good, this fandom loves angst so much

And don't worry about long asks, I've gotten some novels here lmao

I gotta say, this is definitely a great adamsapple scenario! Okay so, my personal headcanon is that Adam died being an *actual* good person. If Sir Pentious getting redeemed is anything to go by, I think whoever is doing "divine judgement" is actually judging fairly.

So when Adam died, he was actually a pretty decent guy all things considered. What really made him as rotten as he is today was seeing humanity fall deeper and deeper with every year and, of course, being coddled and spoiled in heaven, with everyone constantly telling him how special and amazing he was. In Heaven, there were no longer consequences, so every time he fucked up (which he did a lot of as a human) there were no repercussions, he just got praise after praise! Eventually, this enabled worse and worse behaviors because none of it was getting corrected.

That means that if Adam loses all his memories from Heaven, he'd actually be a decent human being again. However, his resentment towards Lucifer is much older than that lol, and in fact, having only suffered in Earth, and without 10000 years to mellow out his anger, that means that his resentment would be FRESHER and more bitter.

Finding out he's in hell and, above everything, all the DEBAUCHERY and CHAOS that hell has, it would give him a mix of anger, disappointment and depression. He has no genocidal tendencies yet, so I'd imagine he'd feel all of his hope leave him. He'd think, "what was all my effort for, then?" All his effort raising his children, teaching them what's good and wrong, only to realize that it was all for nothing.

The difference between coming to terms with this reality across 10000 years versus being hit with it ALL AT ONCE is abysmal. It sends him spiraling down even worse than his own fall, or the time skip. It destroys his soul.

He'd hate Lucifer more, but above all, he'd hate himself with a fiery passion.

#hazbin hotel #adam #ask

[vesora]

is law of assumption real? yeah

i have come across an individual vilifying the loa community and i find their statements kinda funny and stupid but i love having my beliefs challenged bc i can know why i believe in this. please also read my response to this other girl who thought loa ppl were crazy. it is ok to think if it’s crazy. ur welcome to criticize it. also, i am using aesthetic pictures bc of my ocd, i need things to be divided.

this is for the people who want to listen whether LOA is real from MY perspective:

firstly, i was primed for law of assumption from a young age. this means that i experienced many and i mean MANY spiritual things from a young age. i saw spirits (not hallucinations, it was my dead grandma who i had never seen and i described her down to her ring to my dad and he started crying because it was her), started speaking french at random points without ever having consciously learned the language, heard random piano compositions in my ear which i had never heard before, had visions which protected me/warned me about the future/informed me about the future and many manyyy more things. this proves to me the power of the subconscious mind.

the difference between someone who was born with their third eye awakened versus someone who has no spiritual experiences + is not open-minded to it, is that they will view spiritual phenomena from a materialistic practical sense.

this is saddening, because humans before being impacted by materialism were so spiritual and we were the ones who created the pyramids and all the structures you see on earth. we did that.

anyways,

is it real?

my opinion: yes. 

no i am not in a cult waiting to pounce on the next vulnerable piece of meat. in fact, my future career is removing people out of cults and helping trafficking victims but anyways.

i have manifested things far beyond logic. you know how and why? because manifestation is the most basic human trait. and awakening to the fact that you are the creator of your reality is the most liberating amazing feeling and practice. i manifested one of my dying cats becoming free of cancer. that is not luck. that is manifestation. i manifested bad circumstances away. not luck, manifestation. i manifested all my exes leaving me the SAME way because i had assumed they would. not a coincidence, manifestation. there is definitely a lot we don’t know about the universe. i can’t say with certainty that all things are attributed to us which is also why i hate any form of victim blaming. but one thing is for sure is that humans have more control over our lives than we think. we don’t need a divine presence outside of us to dictate us the circumstances in OUR lives.

also, law of assumption is not law of attraction. law of attraction is “AHHH DONT THINK BAD THOUGHTS OR U WILL GET BAD JUJU” very fear-based, also seen in dogmatic religions. law of assumption uses a CBT based approach to change assumptions and therefore, influence reality. you have every right to not believe in this and even chastise me for it, i understand. however, i know this is real for me.

i was a victim of many racist attacks, however, as soon as i decided that the outside world is safe for me, i never had ONE negative experience. is this a coincidence? not for me, no. this is a human taking control of their life. this is a human not bound by societal expectations and leaning into divine energy and expressing the truest essence of one’s self. i am not blaming myself for being a victim, it is the racist’s fault. i am not blaming other victims, it is the perpetrators’ fault. however, if there is any fucking chance i can help a victim, i will take it, i do NOT care.

things i manifested regarding other people towards me:

1. no more racism towards me, family and friends.

2. parents being emotionally available with me

3. my friends expressing affection the way i want them to

4. my mum making me the exact food i visualised many times

5. my professor saying the exact words to me as i visualised

6. my friends saying to me the exact words i visualised

7. this guy flirting with me out of nowhere because i visualised it

8. and many more stuff this shit is too easy so

maybe i feel this strongly because i am a fighter for the working class. my main goal in life is to help liberate all oppressed people. if there is any chance that it can be done by mind, i would take it. would you not? would you not help people by the means you have helped yourself?

how can you so strongly and with such conviction without ever practising the law come to a conclusion that is a harmful new age ideology when the maxim prevalent in so many esoteric practices (yes, non-white too) have preached that reality is made by the mind? will we ignore the science behind it too? will we ignore the cia declassified documents? will we ignore ancient accounts of reality shifting? will we ignore hermes trismegistus? will we ignore rumi? will we ignore plato? 

you can ignore this. i won’t, however. this is the liberation of the human soul. having said this, anyone is welcome to criticise the LOA community, look at us as vultures, think we are crazy. i value all opinions (even if they’re wrong HAHA sorry). 

how is loa different from dogmatic religion?

well for one, there is evidence for conscious manifestation (e.g. dr joe dispenza’s books). i personally do not like religion. i have religious trauma so if you are religious, id advise you to not read this section. abrahamic religion is based on fear to oppress minorities, trap human potential and it also makes you rely on luck and wishful thinking (this view is only if the holy books were to be taken in the literal sense and abused by ministers etc) whereas the human is able to decide its own fate. law of assumption liberates the human by putting the human from an us vs them view to an us AND them view, meaning everyone is one and the same. this is not a christian thing, this is a well documented thing featured in asian philosophy. consciousness is the thing that unites us all. it is within you and it is within me. religion (abrahamic) forces you to look at the people who are not like you, aka dont believe what you do, as these other creatures who have defied the will of God and ahhh will face wrath. LOA instead empowers the individual and promotes free will. i understand if you think this is dangerous, the woo-woo stuff, just dont practise it.

how is loa not a cult?

loa CAN be misused in a cult but on its own it is not a cult. no one in the loa community is forcing the individual to join this practice which lowkey is just manifestation. however, i get your concerns and i advise you to read this reply: x

i wish i took pics of my cat when she was sick so i could provide u guys evidence but of course i didnt take any pics.

anyone is welcome to leave. anyone is welcome to adjust loa to their lives the way they see fit.

the void state

i doubt that so many people are lying about manifesting in the void state. i do think it’s not a big deal but i definitely don’t think it’s fake. besides, whats the harm in trying?

thing is right, if you are not garnering results or whatever, u dont need to stay. i stayed regardless of whether i manifested my shit instantly or not (which in the beginning was hard for me) because i believed in the philosophy, it resonated with me and it didn’t make me alienate my fellow man. however, if you feel you have a chance of being manipulated here or idk what, don’t join this practice. seriously, it’s okay. i am not being sarcastic or anything, because you are welcome to stay or leave. you are welcome to compliment me or insult me. i will love you either way for you are my fellow man.

also this is so random and a general thing but only psychoanalytic/psychodynamic psychologists use the subconsciously thing.

#loa #law of assumption #manifesting #manifestation #neville #neville goddard

[kit-williams]

I want to use the Emperor on his golden throne to fry an egg. I’ll be butchered by the Custodes within seconds but it’ll be worth. Emperor fried egg. :)

If the egg ain’t cooked to perfection then I’m using my final breath to Yeet a second egg at his divine corpse/body/being.

So I remember getting this ask and being very confused... but I put this on the backburner for when I would get around to writing yandere custodes and the necromundan scum, that one of them decided to bring home, named smoothie.

@sculptorofcrimson this is your fault/this is the funny one (again my knowledge of the golden boys is very limited/I struggle to write them)

And you lot get to benefit from it @bispecsual @egrets-not-regrets @moodymisty @bleedingichorhearts @liar-anubiass-blog @thevoidscreams @barn-anon

thank you to @squishyowl for the dividers

Smoothie did not like it here... the clean empty inner hallways left nothing for her to scavenge... no place to get food or drinkable water for miles. It was two days before her golden shadow found her dehydrated as she slipped away from him when he had a chance. Adonis only collected her so soon as they were about to release a small swarm of hormagaunts into the imperial palace for practice and Adonis did not like how easily she could slip from his grasp.

Like recently... Adonis felt his fingers clench and unclench as Nicodemus had jested even at how he must have picked up a mindwiped assassin with how easily she could vanish from his grip. But there was something about her that satiated the itch behind his eyes... it sated the desire to feel a crumb of affection back.

Smoothie crawled through the vents moving on padded knees and wearing thicker gloves as she looks around unable to make marks or else they'll figure out where she's going. Everything seemed to narc on her if she tried to make herself comfortable add her own touch to this gawken gawdy golden glitter glamhouse! She looks around as her body starts to tingle and she is certain that she's getting closer to the radiation.

It makes her body tingle... her nose bleed and she needs to get a bit closer to the source till she feels her teeth itch and then she's in the right spot to cook the eggs she stole from the kitchen. Not like she was gonna live very long anyway and if the glamshow that is Donnie and his brothers just casually relaxing with an open source of radiation then she could die faster making something she loved to eat.

"Adonis." One of the Companions said into the coms with a monotone drone that to Adonis belied a hint of amusement.

"Yes?" He replied going over the mental checklist of places to look for her and she rarely went to the same place twice in succession.

"She's in the vents again."

"Of course she is. Thank you Amadeus." He replied slightly between his teeth. If a companion was telling him where she was... he moved quickly.

She saw her 'lover boy' look at her with the most unamused look in his eyes as she just gave a shit eating grin offering him a radaition cooked egg, "Can I offer you an egg my lord?" She snarked at him as one of her eyes was bloodshot and her nose bleeding from even being this close to the golden throne unprotected.

"If I eat it will you come back willingly?" Adonis asked knowing he could just grab her but he hardly delt with such willful... creatures? She was certainly human... just very different from any other... paramour would be a word but so would obsession fit as equally for what this... itches would be.

"I dunno Donnie... I worked so hard in cooking these." Smoothie says peeling the shell away as she took a bite leaving a smear of the neon green lipstick she wore on the white of the egg.

"Smoothie." His augmented voice shakes the air as he does his best not to order her, because that is not what lovers did. But what the supposed ideal versus reality was also another thing to take into account.vHe watches her frown as blood trickles from her nose. She was so much more willful than any of his other paramours obsessions that it confounded him but also greatly excited him.

He is certain that his beloved Lord would have teased him... But then again he and the others would not feel that itching need so often. The pout on her green lips as she crawled closer to him before just putting one to his lips. He ate it, it was simple as he expected it to be.

"Fine we can go. At least before more of my teeth fall out." She says trying to crawl past only for Adonis to hold her to his chest. He moved quicker than she could out of the vents.

She whined as he took her to a rather unused medical area. As it was time to start some treatments to keep at bay the... Side effects of her lifestyle. Adonis had told her that she would be surprised at how much longer she would live around him. He wasn't going to let her fall apart so soon.

#Adonis the Custodes #adeptus custodes #yandere custodes #male yandere #yandere #OC: Smoothie #x reader #unhealthy relationships #unhealthy obsession #obsessive love #obsessive yandere #obsession #warhammer 40k

[dollarstorefern]

i included this scene because it’s an amazing instance of the core idea of the show, words versus actions, “everybody lies” versus “truth begins in lies”, the lines of the theme song itself, “love, love is a verb, love is a doing word”. house repeats the idea that everybody lies and that words are meaningless, because they are to him! what he says isn’t reflective of any truth, only his fears and deflections, whereas his actions are constantly contradicting what he says.

it's insane to really think about the way house believes wilson and cuddy view him, the way he talks about the way THEY talk about him. he says something along the lines of "the house problem", thinking that’s all they view him as. he believes that they believe he's incapable of functioning in a stable and healthy way; house essentially believes that he burdens wilson and cuddy. and how dehumanizing must that be?

i feel like we can tie this back to that one scene in season three, wilson’s "i was afraid your wings would melt" and house’s "god doesn't limp". house's self-perception is so… interesting to me. but that scene right there, that confirms to me that house is wrong! his beliefs are just fears! wilson is comparing house to icarus, which is so humanizing in a way. the fact that, in this instance wilson is implying that house is destined for a fate in which his pride overcomes him, in which house believes he may reach divinity, yet house objects this idea by implying that he himself never believed he could reach this divinity in the first place. he believes that, at the end of the day, he is too impure, too flawed, too broken to be anything amazing, let alone human; oftentimes, house implies that he views himself as subhuman. but there’s more to the comparison than wilson and house’s conflicting views of house himself. if house is icarus, to wilson, then who is daedalus, other than wilson himself? who is the one that watches this fallout, who is the one that helped craft the very thing that caused this death, other than wilson himself?

sure, i believe that we can all agree that cuddy enables house to a certain degree. but she does it without having a dependency on house, unlike wilson. while cuddy can draw the line, she can leave it all behind to do what she believes is best for herself and her family, wilson is stuck where he is. wilson enables house because their relationship is dependent on this back and forth between house and wilson, the idea that they themselves discuss, where wilson feeds upon neediness and house is a beacon of neediness himself.

wilson is the one that is always there for house, he is the one that dealt with house after his leg surgery and his breakup with stacy, he was the one that was there for house before and after mayfield, and house ends up reversing this and being the only one for wilson when he's dying of cancer in the end.

and to bring back the theme song, as i mentioned earlier, "love, love is a verb, love is a doing word" as well as house' s infamous quote, "everybody lies". these two go hand in hand in my opinion. wilson tells house that he's leaving him, leaving the hospital itself, after amber’s death, yet he returns just a few episodes later, being there for house when house’s father dies, even though house wasn’t really there for wilson the way wilson wanted him to be after amber died. house can't tell wilson he loves him when wilson asks house to say it, he blatantly refuses to say it, but he fakes his death to make sure wilson gets to fully live his last five months, a proclamation of love more meaningful and powerful than the words themselves.

people's words are deceiving, and only in their actions may one find wholehearted truth (“truth begins in lies”, a quote heard in the very first episode not long after “everybody lies”). that is what this show is about; that is what house himself represents.

#house md #hate crimes md #gregory house #james wilson #lisa cuddy #house md nonsense

[thecreaturecodex]

Shrine Skelm

Image © Paizo Publishing, accessed at Archives of Nethys here

[The shrine skelm, like all of the skelms, rules, but I didn't like how it doesn't have any ability to magically conceal its alignment. Considering that spells like misdirection and nondetection exist in 2e (although now they have non SRD names like "veil of privacy"), it seems a bit of an oversight to have a monster whose whole deal is deceiving religious figures whose cover can be blown by any 1st level paladin. So I gave it the "feign faith" ability, and some spell-like abilities to synergize with it.]

Shrine Skelm CR 5 LE Monstrous Humanoid This gray-skinned figure is nearly human, except for his yellow eyes and rack of antlers. He wears priestly vestments and expensive-looking holy symbols.

Shrine skelms are skelms that specialize in abusing religious authority. Regardless of what faith they feign, they are skilled at interpreting its doctrines and stories in the most restrictive and cruel lights, using them as excuses for the abuse they heap onto their followers. All of their parishioners are at risk, of course, but shrine skelms focus their ire on those who question their authority, or those who have something that they envy. Exorbitant tithing is often the first sign that a shrine skelm has infiltrated a church. Shrine skelms are skilled at seeming like a wise counselor one minute and a cruel adjutant the next, listening to their followers at prayer and probing their minds to learn their hopes and fears. Worshipers or clergy especially prone to hatred, rage or anger may find themselves groomed to become a skelm themselves, and a church can rapidly be converted into a front for a synod of shrine skelms.

Shrine skelms prefer not to fight themselves, instead letting their minions get their hands dirty while supporting them with spells. A shrine skelm’s most formidable ability is the ability to steal divine spells cast by real clerics, paladins, inquisitors, etc., which can both be used as a combat tactic and to denigrate anyone who tries to display the truth of their faith versus the skelm’s disguises and lies. Once the chips are down and their true nature revealed, however, a shrine skelm is just as hateful and violent as any skelm, using their antlers and fists to gore and bash enemies.

Shrine Skelm CR 5 XP 1,600 LE Medium monstrous humanoid Init +3; Senses Perception +11, scent

Defense AC 17, touch 14, flat-footed 13 (+3 Dex, +1 dodge, +3 natural) hp 57 (6d10+24) Fort +6, Ref +8, Will +7; -2 vs. emotion effects DR 5/cold iron

Offense Speed 30 ft. Melee gore +11 (1d8+5 plus trip), slam +11 (1d4+5) Special Attacks feign faith,seize prayer Spell-like Abilities CL 6th, concentration +11 3/day—aid, castigate (DC 17), command (DC 16), detect thoughts (DC 17) 1/day—enthrall (DC 17), retribution (DC 18)

Statistics Str 20, Dex 16, Con 18, Int 19, Wis 15, Cha 21 Base Atk +6; CMB +11; CMD 25 Feats Deceitful,Dodge, Magical Aptitude Skills Bluff +13, Disguise +13, Intimidate +18, Knowledge (religion) +10, Perception +11, Spellcraft +12, Stealth +12, Use Magic Device +13; Racial Modifiers +4 Intimidate Languages Aklo, Common, telepathy 30 ft. SQ change shape (Small or Medium humanoid, alter self),skelm traits

Ecology Environment any land and urban Organization solitary or synod (2-7) Treasure standard (holy symbols, other treasure)

Special Abilities Feign Faith (Su) When a shrine skelm wears a holy symbol, its alignment detects as the alignment of that god, and its castigate and retribution spell-like abilities treat the shrine skelm as a worshipper of that god. A creature attempting to detect the skelm’s true alignment must succeed a DC 18 Will save to do so. The save DC is Charisma based. Seize Prayer (Su) As an immediate action, a shrine skelm can attempt an opposed caster level check to steal a divine spell cast within 30 feet of it. This spell must have a verbal component. If the shrine skelm succeeds this check, both the skelm and the caster take 1d8 points of damage per level of the spell, but the shrine skelm becomes the spell’s sole target. Skelm Traits (Ex) A shrine skelm gains a +4 racial bonus on Intimidate checks and a -2 racial penalty on saving throws against emotion effects.

#skelm #shrine skelm #shapeshifter #monstrous humanoid #pathfinder 1e #pathfinder 2e

[borninwinter81]

William Blake and Good Omens - an intertextual analysis

Please note: I did another version of this and posted it, but it was quite hurried, way too short, and was incorrect in a number of ways so I deleted it. However it had already been reblogged by the time i did so. If you happen to see another version of this meta that's not the right one, this is the version I'm happy with!

After my previous post re William Blake and Good Omens did so well, and so many people showed an interest I've decided to do a more in depth piece. This is focused upon the TV version of Good Omens, not the book.

Please don't tag Neil in this - although it's mostly textual analysis I do a very small amount of S3 theorising, and I know he doesn't want to see that.

I am in no way suggesting that Neil and Terry specifically wrote Good Omens with Blake in mind, I honestly just wanted an excuse to write more about Blake because I love his work so much, and I thought it would be interesting to try and apply some intertexuality since the works will contain similar themes, both being about God, religion, humanity, and angels and demons.

I also should stress that I am not an expert on Blake, there are people far more qualified to comment on him than I. I'm just a former literature student who loves his work.

There have been many different interpretations of Blake's work over the years, so it's completely fine to disagree with someone else's ideas about it, as with any work of art or literature. And although this piece is likely to be long, I'll barely be able to scratch the surface of all the possible meanings that could be ascribed to it.

Much like the old adage that if someone claims to understand quantum physics they're lying, I'm not sure anyone can truly fathom the full meaning of Blake's philosophy (especially in his later prophetic works, fuuuuuuck those beasts....), so if you're confused by him don't be discouraged, that's perfectly normal!

That being said, I wish to discuss the parallels between Good Omens and The Marriage of Heaven and Hell, my personal favourite and probably the most accessible of his longer works.

"Without contraries is no progression. Attraction and Repulsion, Reason and Energy, Love and Hate, are necessary to Human existence. From these contraries spring what the religious call Good & Evil. Good is the passive that obeys Reason. Evil is the active springing from Energy. Good is Heaven. Evil is Hell."

This excerpt is from near the opening and sets out the central idea of the work - that there is an essential duality to humanity, and each person is a combination of extremes. These extremes are not at war with each other, but rather are equally necessary, hence the "marriage" of the title. "The Marriage of Heaven and Hell" is a metaphor for the human experience.

Consistently throughout The Marriage... Blake refers to the two extremes as Reason and Energy. These terms could be construed in a number of different ways: thought versus emotion, mental versus physical, restraint versus desire, temperance versus excess, caution versus impulsiveness, and following the rules versus free will.

Blake's use of the word "Reason" in this context may be somewhat confusing, however he likely chose it because of his negative feelings towards science and the Age of Enlightenment. Blake saw literal visions of angels and prophets and the divinity of all creation, and hated that science reduced everything to formulas, calculations, and materialism, leaving the world bereft of wonder. "Art is the Tree of Life. Science is the Tree of Death" as he put it.

His ideas about "reason" are best expressed by his painting "Newton". Though inspired by the scientist, it is not a portrait - instead it depicts a figure deeply engrossed in scientific drawings and calculations, totally ignoring the beauty all around him - see below.

In the context of The Marriage... Reason is "passive" because it involves thought, caution, self-restraint, and doing what you are told, all states which block action. Energy is "active" because it is physical, emotional, impulsive and allows you to act based on your own choices and desires. It's quite clear that Blake feels "energy" is the preferable state - he tells us as much in the next section:

"The Voice of the Devil

All Bibles or sacred codes, have been the causes of the following Errors. 1. That Man has two real existing principles Viz: a Body & a Soul. 2. That Energy, call'd Evil, is alone from the Body, & that Reason, call'd Good, is alone from the Soul. 3. That God will torment Man in Eternity for following his Energies. But the following Contraries to these are True. 1. Man has no Body distinct from his Soul; for that call'd Body is a portion of Soul discern'd by the five Senses, the chief inlets of Soul in this age. 2. Energy is the only life and is from the Body and Reason is the bound or outward circumference of Energy. 3. Energy is Eternal Delight."

So the body is an aspect of the soul, not separate from it, Energy comes from the body, it is Reason which places limits upon Energy, but Energy is eternal delight. Physicality, desire, impulsiveness, emotion, sensual pleasure and free will are not wrong or evil, they are aspects of the human soul and it is from them that we derive our enjoyment of life.

This does not necessarily mean that Reason is always bad. After all, Blake tells us that both are necessary for human existence. Sometimes temperance, caution and thought before action are required. But Reason becomes negative when it "usurps its place and governs the unwilling", i.e. when it completely supplants Energy and becomes the sole guiding factor, forcing passivity.

The Angels of The Marriage... are governed by "systematic reasoning", therefore they are wholly creatures of Reason. They are also "all religious" meaning they believe the "errors" stated above. His Devils by contrast "hate religion" meaning they believe the "contraries", which are the true statements according to Blake. It does not necessarily follow that they are wholly governed by Energy, merely that they believe Energy is "eternal delight".

It is worth noting at this point that Blake saw God and religion as totally separate. For Blake, "God" is that connection with divine wonder which was integral to his life; he tells us plainly that "all deities reside in the human breast" and that "the voice of honest indignation is the voice of God". In other words all humans have a direct and intuitive link with God and don't require the church, Priests, or a religious framework and adherence to a set of rules in order to reach moral decisions. These rules exist only to "enslave the vulgar".

The importance of this ability to make one's own choices about a moral course of action is shown by one of the "Memorable Fancy" sections of The Marriage...

Blake relates how a Devil is able to use an Angel's "systematic reasoning" against them:

"if Jesus Christ is the greatest man, you ought to love him in the greatest degree; now hear how he has given his sanction to the law of ten commandments: did he not mock at the sabbath, and so mock the sabbaths God? Murder those who were murder'd because of him? Turn away the law from the woman taken in adultery? Steal the labor of others to support him? Bear false witness when he omitted making a defence before Pilate? Covet when he pray'd for his disciples, and when he bid them shake off the dust of their feet against such as refused to lodge them? I tell you, no virtue can exist without breaking these ten commandments; Jesus was all virtue, and acted from impulse, not from rules."

The Angel has no way to refute the "reasoning" that Jesus was governed by Energy and "impulse", i.e. his own morality, the "voice of righteous indignation", not reasoning and the rules laid down by Heaven. And because Jesus is the Messiah he must be virtuous, therefore Energy is virtuous. The Angel immediately allows himself to be consumed by fire and is resurrected as a Devil.

How can these concepts apply to the world of Good Omens?  This was where my first draft was totally incorrect, as I tried to transfer Blake's ideas about Angels and Demons and Heaven and Hell wholesale, applying "reason" to Aziraphale and Heaven and "energy" to Crowley and Hell.  In fact the divide is slightly different in the GO-verse: Crowley and Aziraphale *both* represent Energy, and it is Heaven and Hell that act according to Reason.

At first glance Aziraphale may appear to toe the line - he needs creative application of the rules to make him comfortable with trying to avert the apocalypse, and when he doesn't like the way matters are being handled by the Archangels he seeks a higher authority and goes straight to God. He'd clearly prefer someone to be confirming the rightness of his actions for him. However this doesn't mean that he won't act on his own.

Immediately upon his introduction to the story he has given away his flaming sword, an action that he took impulsively because he felt it was right, not because someone told him to. It bothers him, but he does it anyway.

In the Job storyline, though he initially looks for some loophole within the rules that will allow him to save Job's children, in the end he directly goes against Heaven to do it, even though he believes he is going to Fall and become a Demon for having done so.

Though he resists it and exhausts all other possible avenues first, he eventually does take an active role in averting the apocalypse in S1.

He hides Jim at great personal risk to himself and against the will of both Heaven and Hell, again because he feels it is the right thing to do.

He is therefore perfectly capable of independent action from a position of "righteous indignation".

On a more basic level, he enjoys worldly pleasures, which all come from "energy" according to Blake's philosophy. Food and drink most obviously, but also books, music, dancing, theatre, art and so on.

Crowley is more easy to place as acting from Energy - in spite of the obvious aesthetic differences between them, he also loves worldly pleasures. Alcohol and coffee, snazzy clothing, driving his car with Queen blaring on the stereo, going to lunch with Aziraphale, Shakespearean comedies. All things he isn't supposed to want or need, and which baffle other Demons, in the same way that Aziraphale's desire for food baffles the Angels.

And he's absolutely willing to act according to his own moral impulses when they conflict with Hell's orders (or Heaven's), be it saving Job's children, ensuring that Elspeth doesn't die by suicide, or averting the apocalypse. Yes, he'll try to hide his "good" actions in order to avoid punishment by Hell, but he's firmly "on his own side".

Conversely, Heaven and Hell are both part of the structure of religion in this story, are strictly adherent to a set of rules, and their inhabitants appear to have no real desires of their own, other than possible advancement within the systems they uphold. They are "passive" in that their functions allow the status quo to continue and the "great plan" to unfold as they believe it is meant to, even though each side expects a different outcome.

Again, applying Blake's philosophy, I would say the reason for this is that "energy is from the body". Crowley and Aziraphale have both been given bodies in order that they can exist on earth, and *have* existed on earth for 6000 years, therefore "energy" - physical pleasures and free thinking - have become a part of who they are.

On a more fundamental level, possession of a body can be equated to humanity, and humanity has been shown as the most powerful force of all in this story, its influence having led to Adam becoming "human incarnate", and thus acting according to what he feels is right, instead of fulfilling the function he was destined for.

Heaven and Hell contain no material objects, and the Angels and Demons are spiritual beings, having no bodies, so they are not open to energy, and therefore are wholly governed by Reason, and the preservation of the religious structures within which they exist. Structures which, as for Blake, may not actually have anything to do with God herself. In S1 she is a distant observer, clearly aware through her narration of all that is going on, but not interceding in any way. In S2 she is barely present save for her voice being heard briefly in Job, and overlaid with Gabriel's on two occasions.

Bearing all this in mind, what predictions can we make regarding S3 by applying Blake's philosophy?

"The ancient tradition that the world will be consumed in fire at the end of six thousand years is true, as I have heard from Hell.

For the cherub with his flaming sword is hereby commanded to leave his guard at [the] tree of life, and when he does, the whole creation will be consumed and appear infinite and holy, whereas it now appears finite and corrupt.

This will come to pass by an improvement of sensual enjoyment."

The parallels of the cherub with his flaming sword, and the passage of 6000 years should be obvious to anyone reading this - they have of course been lifted directly from the Bible as they are in GO.

I have read some metas which speculated that Aziraphale's bookshop, or perhaps Earth itself, is a metaphorical stand-in for Eden or The Tree of Life. Aziraphale has been commanded to leave his "Eden" and will now be instrumental in causing the whole of creation to become infinite and holy, but Blake tells us this will be done by an improvement of sensual enjoyment, which arises from Energy not Reason.

Sensual enjoyment is something which is intrinsic to Aziraphale's character, and this could make his placement in Heaven very important.

Putting aside all the "final fifteen" theories and taking matters at face value, Aziraphale tells us that if he's in charge he can make a difference - he needs to subvert the system from the inside out. The most subversive thing of all could be that a sensualist who acts according to "the voice of moral indignation" and "Energy" has become the supreme Archangel. We have seen in Blake how a realisation that Energy could be virtuous was enough to convert an Angel into a Devil (incidentally, does the image of an Angel being consumed by fire and emerging as a Devil seem familiar at all...)

We may have seen the beginnings of this already. Gabriel and Beelzebub became open to Energy from such little things as visiting earth, spending time in one another's company, and their mutual enjoyment of a song, which has given them wants and desires beyond those dictated by Heaven and Hell. This is enough to make them wish to leave their roles behind.

It's possible that the same may happen with Muriel. They haven't yet imbibed food or drink, but they have shown an enjoyment of books, which are an earthly pleasure, and open the reader up to new ideas and ways of thinking.

Of course, this would lead to questions regarding the Metatron's statement that he has "ingested things", and whether this means he is acting from reason or energy. Of course the simplest explanation is that it is a manipulation tactic, and he is lying about having done so, but if true that statement has some interesting implications. However, this is now super-long and I'm out of juice, so will leave others to speculate. I may return to this in the future!

There we go, hope you enjoyed. I doubt this will reach nearly as many people as my first Blake post, but if a few find it of interest then my work is done!

#good omens #good omens 2 #go2 #crowley #aziraphale #good omens tv #good omens meta #good omens s2 #good omens season 3 #good omens s3 #good omens brainrot #william blake #the marriage of heaven and hell #poetry #poems and poetry #books and reading #english literature #Textual analysis #intertextuality #good omens theories #good omens thoughts

[devouredbyflame]

Let’s talk about what humans do versus what the Gods can do so as to make a point about what humans are doing that have nothing to do with the Divine. Especially in regards to people claiming to be speaking and acting on behalf of the Divine.

(TW: s*x abuse, ch*ld abuse, spiritual abuse, manipulation)

How do these people make themselves known? Well, it’s easy. There are predators out there who use fear and manipulation tactics to groom and take advantage of their lack of knowledge about a Deity’s existence.

This is why education about discernment and spiritual psychosis needs to go hand in hand with mystical information. For too long the resources we have do not handle these types of things and would sooner conflate the actions of a human with the actions of a Deity. We must hold ourselves responsible for these things pervading the community but it’s impossible with the resources that we have now.

The victim will likely never see the difference because that’s how trauma works - it is impairing of judgment and other nervous system responses that would further assist in determining a communication from the Gods. Trauma dims out what could be the Gods’ communication and replaces it with the trauma. The Gods are not perfect and even if you think They should stop every situation from happening in Their name, They cannot because access to Them has been erased by the pedophiles, narcissists and other awful people who would sooner place themselves in the position of the Deity in order to provoke, disturb, and take advantage of others.

This happens the most, it seems, with Loki. Which, if you actually do know Loki, He would likely never be the provocateur of abuse but based on His controversy, tends to be the scapegoat for it due to misinformation, misunderstanding due to the aforementioned people.

I am not saying the Gods are perfect by any means (They are pretty awful Themselves) but They are more often than not shrouded in peoples’ perceptions by this awful continuous issue in our community and we need to start talking about why this happens instead of running the other direction. We need to allow the Gods to present Themselves rather than relying on other humans for it to work which means we need more education in regards to mysticism and discernment rather than assuming everything people do is invalid.

A properly trained person who has been given the appropriate tools to be able to facilitate and transmit direct communication from the Divine are never going to be abusing anyone unless they would like to have their ass handed to them by the Deity they claim to speak for.

We have a problem with narcissism in this religion. We are a religion full of people who are marginalized, have been deemed unlovable and broken by society, and are searching for meaning in a society devoid of meaningful relationships, community, and is running rampant with narcissists preying on people left and right.

I myself have ran into my fair share of people who have been groomed by others and manipulated and abused by people who claim to know better in regards to what the Deity wants from them. I have also been manipulated myself by people who claim to know better than me.

We cannot allow these people to take away the sanctity of Divine communication, the blessing, necessity, and support of community, and places that should allow others to heal in a place where there should be healing rather than destroyed or impaired even further by hateful people. It is not impossible but it takes work where most people are too afraid to venture.

I don’t know what it could look like but the reason I do this work and the reason that any person who is working in partnership with the Divine should be interested in - healing.

If there is anything I do know, the people who have committed these acts will get what comes to them.

#deity work #paganblr #norse paganism #mysticism #norse gods #norse polytheism #deity worship #lokean #pagan blog #devotional polytheism

[that-one-i-think]

Hoglins and piglins maybe?

OOOOOO this one is fun because they are nether dwelling creatures, Shad's domain but I am so down for a challenge.

So in the time of the Divines other magical races were a lot more prevalent. The Piglins were a race of nomadic people who traveled across the desert, they were people of trading and often renowned for their crafting ability. From building bastions to forging weapons to woodwork, they were wonderful craftsmen. Don't take their pride in their work for weakness though, they are strong barbarians as well. I am also going to say that much like wolves and werewolves, it is a case of "Man versus animal".

The main question is, how did they end up in the nether?

Well, the piglins were the less human-like of the sentient creatures. With werewolves, mei'fwa, and elves all being objectively human like, 7ft+ pig-folk who, while aren't violent, are incredibly protective with the means to do so experience a lot of fear. This eventually led them to side with Shad when he started his "end all life" very early on in the war. Eventually, the Piglins retract their support after they saw the corpse of a child, for in piglin culture, harming a child is one of the worst sins you can commit. (Explanation of their mob behavior)

They turned to the Divine Warriors, feeding them all of the infromation they needed to eventually turn the tides. Unfortunately for them, the people of the world were still afraid and for that fear they were cast into the Nether along with the man they betrayed. This led to the Piglins creating fortresses and bastions to protect themselves from the ever growing army of Shadow Knights.

They did their best and were rather successful in existing, until Shad tried to create the first Piglin Shadow Knight, instead creating the first Zombie Piglin and the following plague.

Honestly, could be a cool premise in the Season 3 shadow knight revolution, Piglin Chief x Laurance even.

#aphblr #aphmau #aphverse #aphmau mcd #mcd #minecraft diaries #piglin #hoglin

[ophelia-network]

Mao Hamaguchi

"Your spirit is the part of you that seeks meaning and purpose. It's the part drawn to hope, that will not give in to despair." ~ Caroline Myss

"If you want to know for sure that you are on the right path, here's your clue: You're not put in a position where you feel like you have to negotiate your sense of integrity, which is an act of betrayal. You don't feel like you have to compromise who you are." ~ Caroline Myss

"The moment you come to trust chaos, you see God clearly. Chaos is divine order, versus human order. Change is divine order, versus human order. When the chaos becomes safety to you, then you know you're seeing God clearly." ~ Caroline Myss







"Few people can see genius in someone who has offended them." ~ Robertson Davies