osiiiris

[osiiiris]

My everyday drawing is my cure

[osiiiris]

A book per Papa

A while ago I shared my obsession for Papas with reading glasses on (it is still alive and well) and in the comments, I also provided the books they were reading, based on their interests/personalities. So why not making it a post?

Primo: De tribus impostoribus - uncertain authors.

Summary: a long-rumored book denying all three Abrahamic religions: Christianity, Judaism, and Islam, with the "impostors" of the title being Jesus, Moses, and Muhammad. Hearsay concerning such a book surfaces by the 13th century and circulates through the 17th century.

X

Secondo: The 120 Days of Sodom - Marquis de Sade.

Summary: The 120 Days of Sodom by Marquis de Sade relates the story of four wealthy men who enslave 24 mostly teenaged victims and sexually torture them while listening to stories told by old prostitutes. 

X

Terzo: Napoleon’s buttons - Penny Le Couteur, Jay Burreson.

Summary: Showing how a change as small as the position of an atom can lead to enormous differences in the properties of a substance, the authors reveal the astonishing chemical connections among seemingly unrelated events. Napoleon's Buttons offers a novel way to understand how our contemporary world works and how our civilization has been shaped over time.

X

Copia: One, No One and One Hundred Thousand - Luigi Pirandello. (One of my personal favorites)

Summary: Vitangelo Moscarda “loses his reality'' when his wife cavalierly informs him that his nose tilts to the right; suddenly he realizes that “for others I was not what till now, privately, I had imagined myself to be,'' and that, consequently, his identity is evanescent, based purely on the shifting perceptions of those around him.

X

Divider by @plum98

[osiiiris]

He’s just standing there . . .

MENACINGLY!!!

[osiiiris]

An imperfect circle - Page IV/IV

Cardinal!Terzo x F!Reader, Dracopia x F!Reader

Summary: There’s no reason I should deny myself Copia’s kisses or Terzo’s warm skin.

What’s wrong with that? We’re all weak; we all have our sins and secrets. In the end, we all love the taste of blood.

And I can resist anything, except temptation. Just like him.

And just like Terzo.

Tags: graphic depiction of violence, dark fic, magic, Blood Drinking, Vampires, Copia is a vampire, Terzo is Cardinal, Violence, Murder Mentions, Cannibalism mention, Addiction, Hurt/Comfort, Cheating, Fantasy, Dark Fantasy, Dark Magic, you are a little bit a bitch.

>> AO3

Page 4: … and when the circle began.

You are serene. It’s evident in the way your hair falls undisturbed along your slender neck, then drapes down to gently tickle your skin without causing you any discomfort. It’s shown in the way you lie there, relaxed beside him, without even feeling the need to cover yourself more than a sliver of the sheet barely does, and in the way you trace invisible circles on his skin.

When you’re serene, you don’t think about anything in particular; you just let yourself live. It’s something that Copia has lost sight of for a while, or perhaps never truly knew, and besides, you’re no longer accustomed to it.

“What are you thinking about?” Terzo asks at one point.

You don’t even lift your face. You keep drumming on his chest with those long fingers, and Terzo longs to be in that little head just to know if he has made you happy, even if only for a moment. Even if he doesn’t love you, it’s still something that comes very close.

You shrug. “Many things… and nothing,” you reply calmly.

“Nothing important, then.”

“I didn’t say they weren’t important,” you contradict him. “I said there are many things, but at the same time it’s as if your mind were empty…”

Terzo gently strokes your hair. “May I think it’s thanks to me?”

You smile, surrendering to his caresses and using his chest as a pillow. “Actually, it’s something that only happens with Copia…” you whisper delicately, as you do with anything that concerns him.

Terzo has to hold back from rolling his eyes, annoyed. Your state of mind when you’re with Copia always seemed the same to him, except it was never serene. “Come on, don’t talk about him now…” he says. Hearing you mention Copia when you’re with him makes him feel overwhelmed, as if that constant presence, even when you’re safe in his arms, threatens him.

“If you want me, you must accept him too, at any time,” you simply reply, and the man either fails to grasp the seriousness of your words or simply ignores it.

“What’s that? A threat?” he asks ironically, but you are very serious, judging  by the way you look at him. “Come on, it’s like talking to a wall…”

You rest your head on his chest again, almost offended. “It shows that you’ve never truly loved.”

“I might not have loved, but I know how to recognize an unbalanced relationship when I see one,” he says. “You just want to pass off as normal… whatever it is,” he continues, staggering slightly along the thread of thoughts that that strange relationship evokes in him. There’s something indefinable in the way he sees you both, but however hard he tries, ’unnerving’ is the only word he can find to describe it. “I understand the situation, the work and everything... but you have to learn to take care of yourself and not let yourself be dragged along, or you’ll never grow up. And neither will he. Demonic creatures are greedy. It’s the same with the ghouls.”

You lower your gaze again, without any objection—which, of course, doesn’t mean you agree.

Terzo thinks it’s a matter of “growth.” As if you had remained in that stage where you act purely on instinct and can’t make decisions on your own. But he doesn’t know that there are things that reward every gap left by a logic no one can understand.

“You could be happy without me,” Copia once told you as he felt your slender fingers brush through his hair.

You had tilted your head, and your hair fell to the side. “But I wouldn’t have you,” you replied.

That, for example, might be one of the clues that would lead Terzo to easily sense just how far you two are from being of sound mind.

You put on a pouty expression, as usual when he does any kind of mistake with you. “Then I don’t want to grow up, if it means having to abandon all the important things just to pretend to be strong.”

“I didn’t mean it that way, you know,” he tries to explain in a tone that has grown more bored than resigned to your stubbornness.

You reach toward the bedside table, glancing at the alarm clock. “I have to go,” you say after checking the time, though to Terzo it seems more like a way to escape from that discussion.

He stays there on the bed, suppressing a loud sigh as he watches your pale skin disappear behind the dark fabric, down to the last button of the shirt you’re wearing. He would have liked to touch you again, to hold you close, to have you close, but he also knows that you are not easy to fool. There’s simply no way to make you change your mind, and perhaps that’s also what he loves about you.

In reality, he doesn’t even know if he loves you, but it’s something very close to that idea. Perhaps he’ll never tell you, and you’ll never ask, because maybe that’s not what you want to hear.

In the end, the fact that you yielded is also attributable to the desire to overcome Copia, to claim something that is solely yours.

It happened when you met outside his office on an ordinary day. You had appeared at the entrance—as if you were waiting for him—and when he parked, he found you by the car door without even realizing it. The small, round sunglasses of a little vampire and an oddly calm air.

You greeted him, and Terzo did the same. “I’m in a bit of a hurry,” he had told you.

“It doesn’t matter. I can wait,” you replied, not even bothering to ask yourself if you might be too intrusive.

Yet you really waited for him, sitting on a couch in the waiting room, with all the air of someone who had stayed there only for him.

“Still here?” he asked, surprised to find you there again.

“I had a meeting with Sister Imperator, and I thought I’d drop by to say hello,” you explained quickly, following him without any hesitation.

“You did it, happy now?” he said. He still seemed angry about what had happened at your place, trying to avoid you with the feeble resistance of someone swatting away a fly.

You were strangely serene and bold, contrary to how he had known you, and he was almost surprised to see you looking beautiful. Almost radiant, despite your invariably dark clothes and glasses. He was delighted to recognize in you the little girl he liked to imagine: domineering, stubborn, with that wild yet fragile charm.

He couldn’t even explain what had come over him when he let you settle into his car without permission, sitting next to him, or when he started the engine to go who knows where—and by the end of the ride, after the torrent of words with which he had entertained you, he only knew that he had seen that face finally relaxed and had felt, once again, the instinct to do something.

That something was simply to draw you close and kiss you, like he hadn’t done that evening at your place.

Probably, it was what he had longed to do since the first time he held your hand. All in all, he had resisted for far too long.

You smiled in your enigmatic way and slipped away once more, leaving him once again without a clear interpretation.

A few hours later, you appeared outside his room. Without a word, he pulled you inside, and you allowed yourself to be led along, of course.

That evening Terzo discovered surprising things about you, like how you had an unbearably angular body and seemed weightless, yet when he pulled you upon him, he felt the weight of your presence to his very bones. You made your presence known in a way that was entirely your own, and it was impossible not to notice when every movement provoked an uncontainable moan.

That night was filled with them: dense and warm, heavy and all too noisy, yet you two didn’t talk that much. In truth, only a few words were needed, because you were not nearly as cold as he had imagined, and you understood each other perfectly. The door had barely been closed, and then your hands found their way, followed by everything else.

One garment after another, he finally uncovered all that skin he had never seen or touched so freely, and the sound of that voice he could no longer do without. A voice all his own, singing only for him.

When you wanted to know what it was that attracted him to you at that party, he replied, “Because you intrigued me,” and you answered the same.

Then came another kiss, then a thousand more, and he tasted on his tongue the sweet flavor of your youth. He surrendered to the warmth of your legs to discover what did you taste like there, and everything became white, fast, and suffocating—so much so that you both believed that all the oxygen in the world was not enough—until he heard your voice turn into a plea and then fade away along with his own. And he discovered that silence turned into a sound so dense after making love to you.

Where Copia took, Terzo gave back. You craved the life you managed to drain from him, feeling it coursing through your veins every time he laughed, hearing his voice on the phone, or when he surrendered beneath your mouth as you drank in everything he had to offer. You wonder if that is the feeling Copia seeks when he disobeys, and you can hardly blame him for it. It’s beautiful, and it makes you feel alive.

But there were many things Terzo could not know—and that no one would ever know—except by watching from a distance where no one was permitted, squinting to see only something blurred.

"Bye," you greet him, then you leave the smallest of kisses on his lips.

You left even before that contact. Perhaps you were never really there.

You return to your depandance as the sky is already darkening, and Copia is already there; sitting on the sofa with the look of someone who has waited for a long time. You say nothing to him, and he doesn’t even bother to look at you.

You leave your jacket at the entrance and then head to the kitchen; you come back with a package of Copia’s favorite candies and sit in the armchair next to the sofa where he is seated.

"How did it go?" you ask calmly, and at the same time you pop one of the candies into your mouth before handing him the bag.

"The ritual has been postponed." His irritation is palpable.

You’re surprised, and even a little guilty. You don’t like the idea of having left him alone to devote yourself to something else… especially when he makes it seem like a crime. "I'm sorry, that's unfortunate…"

"What about you, what did you do?" he asks you provocatively. "It seems like a lot."

You chew slowly, as if you weren’t paying attention to him, and at the same time your desire to eat is fading.

"And anyway, next time, at least deign to leave me a message."

He eats the candies, never feeling too big to really abandon that little habit, not even giving you a glance.

That mixture of Copia’s ruthlessness and the childlike look those little bears give him is, at times, macabre, yet it has become a kind of habit. If you think about it, that’s the way Copia shows you he cares about you; you just have to ignore the words, and the meaning reveals itself.

Sure, it hurts a bit—as do all the most beautiful truths, after all.

It’s nothing that doesn’t happen with the frequency of the routine to which you’re now forced, yet it’s as if you still can’t truly get used to it.

Splitting yourself between Copia and Terzo is inevitable and necessary, and if there were no Copia, there wouldn’t even be Terzo. You need that breath of fresh air you manage to catch with the Cardinal every now and then, to help digest all the venom with which the vampire spoils you.

You’ve only been home for a short while, and you’ve already had enough. So much so that you long to be with Terzo again, and to never abandon that state of tranquility you experience with him. Yet that same tranquility exists only because of what Copia has to offer you, as if your serenity were sweeter the heavier the discomfort you feel. Only now are you finally able to understand Copia completely.

You get up without saying a word, and without a word you head to your room.

Copia follows you only a few minutes later, rising nervously to catch up with you in that noisy way that no longer scares you at all.

You have never tolerated loud noises, the ones that anger produces, like a chair being pushed abruptly or the dull sound of a kick against a door. It is the noise that accompanies failure, frustration, loss, and anger. Copia has made you feel it many times, and you, too, perhaps without even realizing it.

But now, your ears have grown deaf even to that.

You don’t turn around when you hear him enter the room. "Why do you always do that?" Your voice carries a hint of something broken, yet it sounds neither angry nor sad. It’s colorless… that’s all. It isn’t so much a real question as an answer you’ve been seeking for such a long, long time. "Why do you always have to ruin everything?"

And, once again, silence is the only response you receive.

Copia can only watch you from behind as you fold some clothes left on the bed before leaving, even though it seems like a feeble excuse not to look at you. He comes closer without needing you to see him, and the hands that caress you are unexpected, but that’s precisely why you let your guard down.

"Come on, stop it," you protest weakly. It isn’t convincing at all, but you immediately cease protesting when he has already pressed his face into your hair and pulled you close, with your back pressed against his chest, and you find yourself yielding, tilting your head back just enough for him to taste the skin of your neck.

You let him take you, without any fear. You allow the vampire to caress your neck and let his hands travel wherever they wish, following a path already traced by two even more experienced hands hours before. You find yourself surrendering to him, shivering at the way he nibbles your shoulder, just exposed by your shirt. You wonder if he has ever thought of sinking his teeth into your flesh, if he has ever had to resist the temptation… what it would be like if he did. You move one hand toward him, bringing it to his face without looking, and he covers it with his own, interlacing his fingers with yours. You turn to face him, and the kiss that ensues is so natural.

He tastes the sweet flavor of your mouth, which, like his, tastes of candy… and yet you respond to that kiss, growing ever more daring, with the skills of an expert.

It seems that you both know exactly what to do with each other when you find yourselves half-naked on the mattress, ready to shed the few garments remaining. And you do, with movements that suggest a senseless hurry; you have all the time in the world, yet in that moment it seems never enough.

Copia holds your wrists by the sides of your face as he lies down on top of you; a feeble attempt, perhaps, to pin you there and keep you solely for himself. You smile amusedly, wriggling a bit when you feel him settling heavily on you.

You let him do so, smiling faintly with your eyes closed, your arms relaxed, your long legs stretched out on the mattress, surrendering to his will like the victim who was meant to be sacrificed that night.

"Copia?" you exhale softly as he slowly slides inside you. "How… what is it like, when you do that?"

"What… oh," he manages to answer, burying his face in your neck.

"How do you feel?"

After a while, busy with other maneuvers, Copia replies, "Out of my mind," he manages to say, dragging out the words. "Just like with you."

"Like with me?" you ask, surprised, taking his face in your hands and trying to hold it in front of yours. "And for how long?" Copia has already taken refuge in your hair again. "How long have I driven you crazy?"

Copia takes a moment longer. "I guess… forever."

Hearing those words, you feel torn between a powerful jealousy and a satisfying sense of self-indulgence. He already has you—why search for someone else? It would be much simpler; he could have you whenever and however he desires, without needing anything more.

Then, simply, you set those thoughts aside and let yourself go, faster and closer, until everything condenses into a warm, humid cloud like your warm skin and the air you both struggle to breathe.

You wonder if there is a more beautiful reward for every one of your worries. You even love that pain that makes you squeeze your eyelids and bite your lips, because it’s part of all that, almost like the confirmation you seek and his proof of love. The proof of someone who finds in pain the measure of their love.

It’s a moment, and then once again you both lie on opposite sides of the bed. With your hand on your sweaty forehead and your breathing still short, you only turn when you hear the mattress move beneath Copia’s body, who soon finds himself limply sprawled against you once more.

He rests his chin on your chest, and you lower your gaze to meet his. You see his face lowering until his lips press on your sternum, then higher on your shoulder, and what began as a kiss soon turns into a gentle bite. Then more than one.

You smile slightly. "What are you doing?" you ask him, trying to tilt your face so you can look at him.

"I want to devour you…"

"I don’t think you’ll have enough of me for long…" you smile again.

"Indeed," he replies, letting his head rest softly on your chest. You gently caress his hair, play with it a bit, and for long moments the only sound is that of your breathing. All in all, it is the most pleasant and sensible thing you’ve ever said to each other in such a long time.

"You’ve lost weight…" you comment after a while, without even looking at him to confirm your words. As if it were just an excuse, to which he, however, does not comment.

There is more silence before you speak again. It seems that in that little time, everything and nothing happened. "Copia… turn off the light."  You say it very calmly, without ceasing to caress him.

Copia reaches beyond you to carry out that request, and then it’s just darkness.

Your profile is a pale mask barely outlined in the dim light, of which he can only recognize the small nose and the large eyes.

You feel those slender hands caressing your hair a bit, and then the angle between your neck and your shoulder.

"Copia… What am I to you?" you ask very softly, as if to let it be known that you’ve never spoken of it before.

Copia presses his face on the soft skin of your chest, as if it were a safe refuge separating him from everything else. "Everything." He sighs.

"Liar," you accuse him instead, even though your voice shows no resentment. "You shouldn’t need anything more if that were the case."

Copia tightens the soft, yet pointed curves of your hips. "Sometimes I need to let go… and stop thinking about anything. Let me have that," he replies, caressing you. You shift uncomfortably.

"Then let me have it too," you ask, in little more than a whisper. "Or promise me that sooner or later I will truly be the only one."

And Copia remains silent, as on all those occasions when he wouldn’t know what to say.

For you, as always, that silence is enough.

Both Copia and Terzo love to emphasize the fact that sometimes I behave like a child. They must be very fond of that word, even though I haven’t understood why.

To be honest, it’s them who don’t understand.

Normally, children don’t do certain things, nor should they even think about them. They might end up like me, perhaps, even though I was just an ordinary child.

Anyway, I like that they think so, it makes me feel less guilty and more innocent. Not that I’m ashamed of what I do (honestly, I have nothing to regret), but it makes me feel almost justified in their eyes, as if they were admitting that, deep down, I behave in the simplest and most undeniable way: by following my heart without any superfluous thoughts.

And I love them both, truly, whether it’s for just one day or for a thousand more, without ever having to regret it.

Maybe it’s not noticeable, but I’m extremely faithful. And not because I never cheat, but because I know how to devote myself completely to the ones I love.

After all, isn’t that the meaning of loyalty? Being completely devoted to the one you love, and no one can say that I don’t do that, because I’m excellent at it, so much so that I can devote myself to two people without whom I would be incomplete; half, or simply empty. Perhaps it’s because in life, rather than truly detaching myself from the masses, I have always desired to belong completely to someone who makes me whole—as long as I’m the one and only to close the circle.

Perhaps if I had never had someone as needy as Copia, I wouldn’t have developed such a strong desire. And I don’t expect anyone to understand me, no one ever has, perhaps not even the two of them, but people have far too little imagination.

They would certainly say that I’m selfish and unfair, but for me it’s enough that both of them still believe what they like to think about me: that I’m truly a child.

And I like it. I like it very much.

It’s something I love, and it makes me feel protected and right… even when I breathe in Copia’s skin, already wondering what Terzo’s will taste like.

[osiiiris]

🙏 Papa Emeritus IV 🙏

[osiiiris]

Unpopular opinion: I know a lot of people are kinda getting pressed about other fans thinking that theres gonna be a Terzo resurrection, but it's highly unlikely ( mainly because Tobias probably doesn't wanna play the same character twice). While yes, I don't want people to be really sad and disappointed when Perpetua ends up not being Terzo, it still kinda annoys me that others are getting upset over someone just saying they think Terzo is coming back... Like people can believe, stop being rude!

(I sadly am one of the rude people because I struggle with my own obsession, so this come from a personal pov)

I agree, but this is going to be long. I need to address a couple of things (also regarding my last post on this matter).

First of all, I don’t think that all the people who talks about a possible Terzo resurrection actually believe in it (and I’d add that his comeback doesn’t necessarily mean he’d be the new Papa). That’s literally part of all this lore play, and honestly, I don’t understand the pressure other fans feel from this theory and what the problem is with fans loving their favorite character.

I remember people literally crying, scared of seeing Copia die in the movie or at the last concert (I was worried too, to be honest) and nobody was complaining about it. I think the strong hope to see Terzo again comes from the fact that, unfortunately, Terzo didn’t get the merciful treatment that Copia is receiving. Many of his fans weren’t even here during III’s era, but they got attached to him and would like to know what it feels like to see their favorite Papa on stage.

Terzo has a solid, loyal fanbase, which I find fantastic since he hasn’t been around for about eight years now. He still means a lot to a big part of the fandom, and his era is still heavily influencing the present.

Personally, I have the greatest admiration for the first three eras of Ghost. Primo’s era came from literally nothing and broke into the music world so powerfully; Secondo’s era was a wonderful evolution, and Terzo’s era took the whole project to a new level and, in my opinion, proved to be the most inspired era of all. I wasn’t there when all that happened, and I am very passionate about it. The killing of all three is the main reason why I am not interested in Sister’s story. It felt like throwing away the most important part of Ghost’s history.

At first I was super chill about the resurrection theory. I mostly joked about it… it was kind of a meme for me, but then, every time I said, “Okay, that’s just a coincidence, that can’t be” and tried to focus on the new stuff, a new “coincidence” about Terzo brought me back to that theory. Again and again. The gloves sale copy that used the resurrection theory was the last straw for me, because that’s literally playing with people’s expectations, which will almost certainly be subverted. And subvert expectations rarely works.

When I say that Terzo’s fans are not crazy and didn’t make it all up by themselves, and that we theorize with what we have, I mean things like this:

I think that TF knew exactly what he was doing, and what fans would see in these things and the talking and mess it would cause.

Of course, some will be disappointed when V debuts (it will happen even if they are not Terzo’s fans; everyone is expecting something), so please don’t blame Terzo’s fans when they’ve been kept in tension all this time. It’s not gonna be the end of Ghost for sure, tho: some fans will go and new ones will come, just like it has been all this time, and everything will be fine.

[osiiiris]

Copia has always been a shy one—ever since he had the gall to put words to his tongue, could lace his boots and toss a cap on his head and pull on a thrush of dark wool—but, oh, does he love the ones who aren't.

The ones that flash soft grins in flame-kissed shadows and say, Come here, darling. What's your poison?

(Holy ground, or unholy gravelings? The sweet ache of restraint? A dark-roomed white-mooned symphony of husken growls: more love and praise and need than he can handle, than his shyness can bear?)

And they'll lay their fingers on his chin, with adoration in their eyes, and a hunger even the good Saints couldn't have words for: that is both beasts waiting to maul and innocence pleased to bloom: that guide his hands right where they want them.

And Satan evermore—

What a beautiful thing that is: letting go. Nosing down a navel that glitters, his breath hot as a brand, haggard with adoration of his own; lip-paint a pattern of black-mothed wings, and nails a sweat-slick glide, and a flush of beauty on beckoning skin: a meal he could devour 'til the end of his days, and lick the plate clean with every offering.

Come here, darling, they say. Let me look at you.

And he—who has never cared for his freckles, or the soft lines of his waist, or the gnarledness of his fingers; who has stared hope in the eye of his own mirrors, and stood a thread from putting a knife through the glass; he, who would blink at them, always, with disbelief in his brow and sheepishness in his lungs—well.

He must come alive, in their eyes. An unfurling stem of more colors than he can dare to name, with how they hold him, kiss him like a soul who has never known the touch of a temptress's lips, paint nail-scraped lines over skin that yearns to be seen as something that cannot be broken, to be treated as living, to hear those lovely things in his ear again and again and again.

The dawn will greet him still freckled and soft-bellied and a dryness in his mouth; tangled in sheets that are not his own, bathed in a glow that couldn't come close to the sleepy slants of satisfaction that peck at his teeth, morning breath and all.

Even a cluster of solidago, to some, can be a bouquet.

Little by little, a crescent pressed to their lips, he starts to believe it.

[osiiiris]

I know a lot of people think of the Papas as evil and at one point in time I would have loved an evil son of a bitch. I think a lot of people romanticize the Papas regardless of what Tobias tells us is because we want to imagine them being sweet and wonderful to us because we’ve endured evil assholes in our own lives and we’re like, SO TIRED, of evil old assholes.

In my dreamland he’s sweet and kind to me and always glares and growls at others.

I strongly agree. It seems like the Ghost project has shifted toward a softer direction in recent years, and I think this was influenced by the wave of new, younger (probably more sensitive) fans.

Many people—me included—wish for an evil Papa, but what if that’s not what we need now? Looking at what is happening around us, at some point I found myself hoping for someone to give me comfort and hope, even though I’m more on the “make it batshit crazy” side.

Also, I love the “he’s an asshole to everyone but he’s the sweetest to me” trope. It comes from our natural desire for protection and to feel special for someone who is usually seen as dangerous.

[osiiiris]

trying to be the chosen one...

my entry for @bebellsoterel's instagram dtiys :) i had so much fun with this one!

[osiiiris]

these are so FUCKING sexy

kissalien

[osiiiris]

honestly I was planning of bringing a notebook to write down all the speeches and iconic moments.

Ghost artist that are going to any rituals this tour, should do little doodles of their favorite bits or something interesting happens. Definitely going to try my best draw whatever I see at the ritual I'm going to.

Don't have to be perfect drawings and can definitely be Lil doodles. Like to spread the serotonin from this tour and especially more now when it being a no phone allowed.

( definitely not going to be showing up to work covered in sharpie notes)

[osiiiris]

UPO (Unpopular Opinion) that I don’t think is true.

The Papas are evil and don’t care about anyone in their clergy.

Good one, and I agree.

We tend to romanticize the Ghost project and the Papas, but they are generally described as unpleasant, cruel leaders. We also tend to forget that the Ministry is supposed to be a dark, evil-oriented place where sacrifices and other crimes take place.

I have no problem with this vision, tho. Primo, I’m looking at you with loving eyes.

[osiiiris]

Opinion: Sister is mary sue

Neutral, because we should have more information about her to say this, and because I am fairly uninterested in her character.

I’m not sure if she was designed to be a Mary Sue, but from what I see, she is kind of seen as one now. A Mary Sue is usually a positive character, I guess, but she’s got her flaws… she’s hysterical in the Summoning videos, not everybody appreciates her or is even scared of her, and she’s sometimes rude and violent. I don’t really see her as one—yet (I bet she officially will be one after the comic).

The self-insert side of the Mary Sue concept is more interesting. She could probably be a personification of TF. She is supposed to be the Church administrator and the mastermind behind PR operations, tours, and everything related to the Ghost project. A kind of manager. She could easily be a projection of Tobias, and that’s why I would have preferred to keep the mystery around her, let fans guess what she does, where she is, and what her goal is, a ghost that moves in the darkness and orchestrates every move out of the spotlight. But maybe it is just because I’m really not attracted to her and I’m not curious to know more.

[osiiiris]

Send me UNPOPULAR opinions (or popular, it doesn't matter) and I'll rate them like this:

[osiiiris]

*Keep your thoughts to yourself and don’t make a mess*

*Keep your thoughts to yourself and don’t make a mess*

*Keep your thoughts to yourself and don’t make a mess*

*Keep your thoughts to yourself and don’t make a mess*

[osiiiris]

All that will remain is dust.

The dust of splendor and specter of what once was.

Majesty Black put more love and respect for Terzo in a 10 second video than the “Ministry” has shown in the past 10 years.

[osiiiris]

chronically online

Sorry? Is it a question?