#aleister crowley speaks about this at length
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Reflecting on the Ron White bit about how everyone is a little gay because they want the male actors in porn to be explicitly virile: that's not an accident of confluence, that's on purpose
Think about who makes porn
#not to minimize the impact to the actresses but this post isn't about that#it's about the desecration of sexuality which is intended to be a sacred bond of the marriage bed#that said#homosexual subjugation of men is the m.o. of most power and media adjacent humiliation rituals#aleister crowley speaks about this at length#never forget that while scripture describes the narrow path to salvation through devotion to Jesus occult literature is evil#not incorrect or nonfactual#know your enemy and yourself so you may never fear the outcome of battle with him
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How much of Scientology is based on Thelema? Is the connection real or a conspiracy theory?
The Scientology-Thelema connection is not a conspiracy theory at all, as far as Iâve been able to tell, but a matter of historical fact. L. Ron Hubbard was a close confidante of Jack Parsons.Â
The latter went to great lengths in personal correspondence trying to convince Aleister Crowley that Hubbard was and adept in touch with his Guardian Angel. Crowley was having none of it and considered them both âlouts,â but Crowley (through Parsons) did influence Hubbard.
Even the Church of Scientology itself admits this, after a fashion. They give us the impossible fable of dashing L. Ron Hubbard âbreaking up black magicâ in America by infiltrating the OTO.Â
They donât deny it happened, just the specifics of it like that, because they have to make Hubbard the protagonist of all this somehow.
The book Strange Angel is a non-fiction biography of Jack Parsons that explains a lot of this. The TV show of the same name is a loosely-derived work of fiction, though.
For those wondering, I studied Thelema from about 2012 to 2015. I was a member of the Caliphate Ordo Templi Orientis. I was also connected with a specific A.â.A.â. lineage run by a very unpleasant man (yeah, that narrows it down! hah!) from around 2013-2014.Â
Iâve got no connection to Scientology, really. Unless you count my collegeâs computer system completely crashing due to the students constantly DDoSing Scientology sites back in 2007, which was a thing that did happen, weirdly enough.Â
Iâve read a large amount of Hubbardâs material on various very old websites, and Iâve read some autobiographies by (former) Scientologists.
I canât really say how much of it is actually based on Thelema. But I know the connection is there, for a few reasons. Itâs been years but yes, thereâs certain passages of Hubbard that seem based on older Crowley works.Â
Iâve heard it suggested that Scientologyâs concept of âclearâ is merely a reworking of Thelemaâs view of âKnowledge and Conversation of the Holy Guardian Angel.â Iâve also heard that the Scientologist âWall of Fireâ is just a close Xerox of the Thelemite notion of the Abyss.
Iâve personally always thought the Scientology âdynamics 1-4âł concept was based somewhat on Crowleyâs pamphlet, Duty, and also draws from a few other places.
Keep in mind, though, that the Abyss and K&C arenât limited to Thelema. In fact the Thelemic view of these concepts retools their Golden Dawn (and earlier) versions. By that, I mean the original Victorian-era Golden Dawn, not whatever David Griffin is playing.
I guess you can say two things. Hubbard was involved heavily with Thelema, and Hubbard was heavily influenced by the Western Magical Tradition via Thelema and Crowley. Beyond that, itâs not something I can be sure about, and maybe those who know more will chime in?
I also donât claim to be an expert on Thelema but I do believe Iâve got something of a place to speak from about it.
I no longer consider myself a Thelemite, though, for reasons Iâve discussed before.
#witchblr#witch#magic#occult#thelema#cults#cult#scientology#jack parsons#strange angel#strangel#co$#ceremonial magic#golden dawn#Anonymous
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A Gift and a Show
I had always had an affinity for the weird things in life. Nothing too far out of the ordinary; cryptids, chaos magic, the Kabbalah. Harmless stuff. Ritual and speculation. It was my âthingâ among my friends. I was the âspooky one.â The one who was always ready with some obscure Aleister Crowley reference or walking them through some morbid myth over drinks.Â
It was fun for me, and I liked that quirky little niche I occupied. All of my friends were a little odd in some way but that corner of the bizarre was mine. I was happy. I never really went looking for any of that stuff of course. I didnât really believe. It was just a hobby. Some esoteric nonsense to amuse my friends and confuse my Bible-thumping parents.Â
Then my birthday came around. This was a time when I was stuck at home a lot. Between jobs, not much to do but read and watch horror films and wait for something to happen. My family and friends brought or sent presents of the usual kind of things I favored: whiskey, video games, absurd graphic T-shirts, and the like. But the day after, I received a new package: a slim manila envelope addressed to me personally.Â
Its packaging was unremarkable in every way, with one notable exception. No matter how long I stared - brow furrowed and eyes squinting - I couldnât make out the return address. The words were English, of that I am absolutely certain, and they werenât nonsense. They were definitely words. I just... couldnât understand them. The stamp I clearly remember. It was a simple gray lily, set against a black background. It was both utterly unremarkable and endlessly perplexing.Â
I opened the package of course. How could I not? Curiosity has always been one of my strongest vices, and this was too weird for me not to dig deeper.Â
Inside, there was a single piece of hard paper. More like a postcard than anything else. One side of it was glossy black, completely unmarked. The other side had an address, and what I can only describe as some theatrical billing. I wonât put the address to writing. I donât want anyone else to experience what I went through, no matter what their level of morbid intrigue.Â
It was an invitation. The show was titled The Audient Void, starring one âNathan Hopperâ as the main presenter. The sole caption detailing the performance was âFor fans of the Weird, the Macabre, and the World Behind the World.â
At the time I had of course assumed this was something like an escape room, or else one of those âfind the serial killerâ augmented reality games you hear advertised on podcasts all the time. I was convinced it was something that one of my friends had paid for as a birthday present.Â
I sent a text to our group chat asking who had sent it, but none of my friends owned up to it. I was half-convinced at the time that one or more of them was well-aware of the package and was just playing dumb until after I had seen the show. Then they would bombard me with questions and jokes about my peculiar affinity for the odd.Â
So I went. Of course I went. The venue was close enough to my apartment that I could attend the show and even meet with with my friends for drinks afterwards.Â
The location was respectable enough. I live in an older part of the city and the theater where the performance was being held was one of those dignified but antiquated sort of places. I wonât give any more details for the same reason I wonât disclose its address, but it looked as benign as anything else in its neighborhood.Â
The theater itself was packed. I was struck by how diverse my fellow spectators were. Some were clearly from my sort of crowd, with artfully dyed or cropped haircuts and clothing that screamed âlook how different I am.â But others seemed like they would have been more at home in a bible study group, or a police academy, or a retirement home. They all wore the same expression though. They, like me, were intrigued by what was to come, but were equally befuddled by the medley of their fellow theater-goers.Â
Then the lights flashed briefly and dimmed. Silence fell over the crowd. And our host for the evening took the stage.Â
What I remember most about Nathan Hopper is how utterly unremarkable he was. He wasnât tall or short. He wasnât fat or thin. He was far from ugly but equally distant from handsome. Hell, I had a hard time discerning if he leaned more masculine or feminine - not that that last bit matters to me, especially now.
He smiled. I remember him smiling. And he began to speak.Â
And then the world broke.Â
It was such a quiet thing at first. A creeping sense of... wrongness that pervaded the air. Do you know that feeling you get when you overestimate the length of a staircase and your stomach jolts as you try to climb that last phantom step? It was that. Except it lasted.Â
Time began to lose meaning, and it occurred to me that time never had meaning. The concept of time being relative and therefore valueless was always something I had regarded cognitively: a masturbatory thought exercise in metaphysics. But this time, I felt it.Â
The theater grew darker. I could still see Nathan Hopper, cheerily speaking in words that I canât remember, but his face was the only one I could make out anymore. As the last vestiges of light left the auditorium I glanced to my right and left, seeking some small reassurance of realty in my fellow spectators. I couldnât see their faces. Iâm not even sure if they had faces now.Â
I still canât really see faces.Â
Then I was falling. I was alone, and I was falling. Darkness encircled me. It didnât smother me, I wasnât drowning or suffocating. It didnât bury me in the way that you might think. If anything, it was opening to me. I felt it yawning, the space growing ever larger.Â
For a moment, I saw stars. Not in the sense that I was concussed or dizzied. No, I saw the stars. They were beautiful, surrounding me in my endless black void. They reassured me, somehow, even in that widening nothingness.Â
And then they started to die. One by one the stars winked out. I swiveled my head desperately, desperately searching for those precious little lights that let me cling to my sense of self. But it was in vain.Â
As the last of the stars faded to darkness, I became aware of a presence. I couldnât see, of course, and the sense of endless vertigo didnât abate in the slightest. But somehow, I perceived it.Â
It wasnât aware of me. Of that Iâm still certain. But I had no choice but to be aware of it. It roiled and thrashed in that darkness. It piped and groaned in the abyss between the corpses of stars. It didnât know me. I didnât want me. It couldnât know. And it couldnât want. It rolled in an endless tide of mindless, omnipotent apathy. I was nothing to it; I was nothing to anything.Â
And, in that moment I understood. He made me understand. Not the coiling mass of power and idiocy that now surrounded me in that darkness, but its messenger. Its herald. The one who brought me here. I understood, and I knew, and I was broken by it all.
Then I was back in the theater. I canât say for certain how much time had passed. Maybe it had been a few minutes. Maybe a year. I cast my gaze into the crowd around me. Some of the theater-goers were weeping, rocking back and force with their knees clutched to their chests. A few had become violent, scratching and clawing and beating those who occupied the seats next to them. More were catatonic, their eyes empty and vacant, and I knew in that moment they would never awaken again.Â
I think a good number were dead.Â
Then at last I looked back to the stage, to the thing that had called himself Nathan Hopper. But I knew it now, and he knew that I knew.Â
Gone was the utterly unremarkable man. Gone was any vestige or pretense of humanity. I had seen the Audient Void, and now I could see him. Â
His eyes met mine, and they were black. Empty and uncaring and as mocking as the horror I had just emerged from. So too was his skin - not the dark brown of an African heritage - but the perfect onyx of the space between stars.Â
Nyarlathotep smiled, and my eyes burned from the freezing fire that lit his face.Â
It hurt.Â
Nyarlathotep laughed, and his mirth was a migraine that tore through my skull.Â
It hurt.Â
Nyarlathotep spoke, and his words were chiseled into my soul.Â
It hurt.
I wonât repeat what he said to me. No one should have to hear those words. I commit this experience to writing as a warning to others. If you received an invitation to Nathan Hopperâs show, donât go. Burn the invitation. Scatter the ashes. Drink yourself into such a stupor you never remember plucking it out of your mailbox.Â
Donât give yourself over to the games of that vicious thing and the blind idiot god that it serves.Â
Itâs too late for me, itâs too late. I will never be free of his eyes, his smile, his laughter. I will carry it with me until the day I die. I have seen the Audient Void.Â
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Firsts
Carry On Countdown Day 29
Pairing: Snowbaz
Length: 2588 words
Genre: Smut
Warnings: Sexual Content
AN: Obviously Firsts was gonna be smut, but this isnât their first time fucking, just their first time trying some dom/sub play. (Itâs very very mild tho). (Also I donât write a lot of smut)
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Simonâs got his forearm pressed to my collar bone, rumpling my shirt even more. âIs this dominating, do you feel dominated?â Heâs glowing. Iâm glowing. My smile is so wide it hurts my cheeks. Behind the playful jabbing is genuine care in Simonâs eyes. I role mine to distract from the sight of him.Â
âVery dominated, Snow.â I want to ease us both into this so Iâm glad heâs having fun with it. I crane my neck to kiss him. He looks like heâll kiss me but then pulls away. âNah ah ah. Iâm the one in charge remember?âÂ
âYes, sir.â I nod.Â
He shivers from his neck to the tip of his tail at âsirâ. I want him to react like that more often when I speak. I hear a faint âshitâ from him. Then he slips into a more domineering persona and in a deeper voice asks, âDid I say you could speak.â
I shake my head as I feel my entire body ignite. This was an excellent idea.
âGood boy.â Now itâs my turn to shiver with delight. He steps away, leaving me pressed against the bedroom wall. I take in the miles of glorious bronze skin on display. His wings are relaxed behind him. My eyes travel to the sight of Snowâs dark green joggers hanging dangerously low on his hips. I bit my lip, hoping he gets the hint of where I want this to go.Â
âTake off your clothes,â he demands. My mouth opens but I remember his rule. I frantically finish taking off my half unbuttoned shirt and push down my trousers as soon as theyâre unzipped. I worry about coming off as desperate but then I think, I want to seem desperate. I want him to know how much I want this. He has the power to make me do anything he wants.
For a moment he stares, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. Iâm embarrassingly hard already. I donât know if I want to shy away from his gaze or bask in it. I opt for running a hand through my long hair.Â
His tail reaches out to wrap around my hand. I rub it with my thumb. He looks like heâs trying to decide whatâs next. I wait for him. I want him to know heâs in charge.Â
âOn your knees.â he says as his tail whips away from me. I drop immediately. Something about his no nonsense tone is getting me all sorts of bothered. To think I used to mock him for his speech.
He steps closer, pulling me by the back of my head into his crotch. I close my eyes and breathe in deep. I can smell his laundry detergent, underneath it, a musk uniquely his, and underneath that, the pulse of his sweet butter and sugar blood rushing south. I have to hold back a moan. Iâm aching. My only release is placing on open mouthed kiss over his clothed cock.Â
This close I can tell heâs at least half hard already. I look up at him and he just pushes me closer. I do my best to mouth at his prick through the green joggers. He lets out a small moan, his wings spread a little wider, the hand in my hair clenches a little tighter.Â
I reach up to grab his ass and pull him closer to my mouth. His rear has always been a favorite feature of mine; thereâs a dark mole on his left cheek. Though honestly, every feature of his is a favorite.Â
He grunts as my nose smushes into his stomach and my tongue makes a long wet strip down his front. Pleasure pools in my lower half. But then he looks disappointed. âNo hands,â he breathes out.Â
I stop touching him with my hands and want to ask where I should put them but Iâm not allowed to speak. I stare up at him with the question in my eyes. He gets the message.Â
âI donât know,â heâs worked up, fully hard now. âUh, behind your back.â I clasp my hands together behind me and lean into him so he can see Iâve followed directions. âMerlin.â He groans pulling my black hair towards him as he rolls his hips to meet my mouth. âWouldnât want you getting distracted by touching yourself now would we?â he puts back on the domineering manner as he picks up the speed. He has a rhythm going, grinding in to my face.Â
I shake my head. âNow,â he composes himself a little, âAre you ready to do your actual job?â I moan as a response. We didnât talk about a specific scene or character or âbrandâ of domination play, so Iâm not sure what my âjobâ is but I roll with it.Â
He smiles as he pushes his joggers down over his cock, no pants. His wings are almost fully stretched out now and his tail restlessly twitching. I follow his biggest moles and freckles from his cheek to his hip with my eyes. His cock is red and hard and pushed up a little by the elastic waistband. And I swear that sight would kill me if I wasnât already undead.Â
I push my nose into the coarse curls just above his prick. He hasnât put his hand back in my hair. He knows I have to take this part slow if we want it to work.Â
I used to never be able to suck Snow off, I was too scared of my fangs. Iâve learned how to control them, though it can still get tricky.Â
I focus on keeping them in as I place my lips over his head. I hear him gasp, and though I desperately want to, I know looking at him will be too much. Slowly, I take him down to the root.Â
This part is always the most tempting. He tastes salty and smells delicious. Ever since Iâve known what wet dreams were, Iâve been having them about Snow. The real thing is always a thousand times better than I ever thought.Â
I start moving faster, causing him to place both his hands in my hair. His warmth seeps into me. I come up and run my tongue under the head of his cock. He shudders and his tail violently whips up before latching onto my bent knee. I probably shouldnât be as aroused by that as I am. As I fall into a rhythm his wings brush the ceiling of our room.Â
I love him like this. Sweaty and moaning. Bliss written on his face, tension building in the pit of his stomach and the joints of his leathery wings. I think I should have someone paint him like this. Heâs stunning. And Iâm desperately hard from it; trying to rut into the carpet for any semblance of release. I watch a drop of sweat slid off his bicep before closing my eyes and letting myself just feel.
I think just then he remembers heâs supposed to be dominant because he starts spitting filthy, lovely things at me.Â
âFuck, babe.â he tugs on my hair. âSo good at this, such a good boy for me. Gonna keep you here forever. Make you-â He thrusts his hips- âMake you do this everyday. All the time.â I moan so heâll know to keep going. âShit, Baz, you love this donât you? Love being bossed around by me.â Even though heâs putting on the act of bossing me around I can tell heâs worried about going too fast. He keeps running his hand through my hair, and I know heâs holding back with the thrusts. Iâm tempted to tell him he doesnât have to, that I want this to be rough. I wonât get too intense though, weâre supposed to easing in.Â
 âLook- practically hungry for it. Must love serving The Chosen One.â
I swear I almost cum at that. I donât even know if I get to cum in this scene but Iâm so needy and right now I need him to unload. I speed up and start swirling my tongue in the way I know he likes. He moans deep and desperate. My mouth making downright disgusting noises on his dick.Â
I can tell heâs close. I feel him twitch and can taste the pre pouring from his slit. Before he finished though, he yanks my head away from him.Â
Heâs panting and leans into my shoulders with his arms. I move my hands to his thighs, to help steady him.Â
âNot yet, Baz, I know what you were getting at, but I set the pace. Itâs your turn now.â I moan at just the thought of being touched. His face is so red, it must be painful stopping that close to the edge.Â
I sit, waiting for him to tell me what to do.Â
âOn the bed,â is all he gives me. I get up and sit on the bed, his eyes burning into me the whole time.Â
He swallows, one of those big showy swallows only Simon can do. âOn your stomach. Knees at the end of the bed.â
I obey him. âI uh, you touched my thighs but I donât really- I donât know if- how to do punishment stuff, sorryâŠâ I canât see him but from the tone of his voice I can tell heâs fidgeting.Â
 I awkwardly twist my body around to try and look at Snow. He's stripped off his joggers. I make an effort not to stare at the newly revealed skin. âThatâs perfectly alright, Love, weâre taking it slow, remember? Just do whatever is comfortable, okay?â Heâs been so nervous about making this good for me ever since I suggested experimenting with new things; Iâm not sure how I havenât convinced him that anything he gives me is more than enough. Â
He nods, clearing his head. âYeah okay. How- uh how are you? Whatâs your color?â
âAbsolutely green, Dear.â I say putting on a seductive smile to show him how into this I am.Â
He smiles back but his is tooth achingly sweet. My heart stops when he looks at me like that. âGonna open you up nice and wide for me.â His smile turned devilish.Â
âAleister Crowley.â I moan without thinking. I swear this boy will be the death of me.Â
He motions for me to face forward. I do. I hear him drop to his knees right before his warm hands are on my hips, pulling me closer to the edge of the mattress. I feel his breath on me.Â
Then heâs spreading me apart with his hands and licking a long strip across my hole. It makes me shiver.Â
He starts circling with his tongue. Itâs so incredibly warm; I canât help but think how good heâd feel inside me right now. He presses his tongue my hole then slowly heâs pressing it inside me.Â
I rutt into the mattress and sigh. His blunt nails dig into my ass.
âDonât move.â He says it low and gravely and I think my lungs have given out.Â
Thereâs tears in my eyes, because this is already so much and I need to cum but I know I canât if I have to stay still. Iâll do it, for him.
Before I know it heâs slowly pressing a lubed finger into me; his tongue leaving kitten licks just above it. In my haze I didn't even notice he grabbed lube. Itâs cold at first but I swear he could set my insides alight like this.
Gently he starts pushing in and out of me. It's so good yet entirely not enough. Snow adds a second finger. His other hand squeezing the flesh of my ass cheek. I'm grinding my teeth from the effort of holding still. I might die if one of us doesn't move soon.
Then he adds a third finger and brushed my prostate. My toes curl. My entire body feels like a rubber band pulled taut.Â
"Merlin, please. Please please more." I sob.
He nips at my lower back and pulls his fingers out. I whimper, and want to beg him to put them back.
"You think you're ready?" He says more like a statement than a question. I don't know if I'm allowed to respond. "Speak."Â
I bury my head in the pillow. "Yes. Please, Sir." He growls.
I hear the lube cap open then feel the bed shift as Simon straddles my hips. He pulls me towards him and sinks in. He sighs as I grasp at the bed sheets. Iâm so warm and so full but he isnât moving.Â
I push my hips back in attempt to fit more of him inside. He chuckles before pulling almost fully out and sliding in again. My voice is deep and fucked but I canât stop the noises leaving me.Â
I can tell his wings are spread wide above us; I hear them scratching the ceiling and flapping slightly.Â
My back arcs as Simon presses a hand at the base of my neck and grips my hip tightly with the other. His palms are dry and rough. He picks up the speed, setting a brutal pace. Heâs making short grunts I could only find attractive coming from him.Â
Then he starts again with the dirty talk. âMh perfect for me, so cold. Gonna make you all mine, never let you leave.â I whine in response just as he finds my g-spot again.Â
âShit, Baz. Youâre made for this. Made to take my cock so well, huh?â I think itâs a question but Iâm too far gone to respond.
With every thrust heâs hitting my prostate and pushing my cock into the mattress. Iâm writhing beneath him; my entire body so overwhelmed with pleasure itâs forgotten how to function. My fangs have popped, my hair a sweaty mess pressed to my forehead and I think Iâm drooling but I canât care. Iâm close, so close I think Iâll cum without him even touching my prick.Â
In my ecstasy I start babbling. âSimon! Hng, Iâm so so- Simon! Iâm-â at that the hand heâs got spread at the junction of my neck and shoulders squeezes and Iâm gone.Â
I go silent as I spill onto the bed, shaking with pleasure. Then my vision comes back and Iâm aware of how hard my heart is beating.Â
Snowâs still going but I know he wonât last much longer. My body goes slack as he fucks into me, getting more frantic and uneven with each thrust. Finally, I feel it. He stills inside me and moans. I canât see it but I know from experience that he looks glorious. He takes a moment to recover then lays beside me. My fangs retract.
âWas that okay?â He asks pushing hair out of my face then placing a soft kiss on my temple. Shy, unsure Simon is back.Â
âIt was wonderful Snow-â I put a pale hand on his cheek â-Thank you for trying this with me.â I stare into his plain blue eyes as my thumb circles a freckle near his mouth.Â
He blushes a little. âLet me clean you up, Pitch.â He says. I open my mouth to say he doesnât have to but he stops me. âI want to, I kinda really like that part of it.â His blush gets deeper and he wonât look my in the eyes. Simon Snow absolutely will be the death of me one day. Aleister Crowley, I am living a charmed life.
#If you've got any tips on how to write smut better#uh I'm all ears#carry on countdown#carry on countdown 2019#coc#coc2019#coc 2019#coc entry#carry on#carry on fic#carry on fanfic#carry on fanfiction#snowbaz#snowbaz fic#snowbaz fanfic#snowbaz fanfiction#simon snow#baz pitch#tyrannus basilton grimm pitch#smut#firsts
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Muse Info (Updated)

Name: Kamijou Touma (Touma Kamijou)
Age: 16-19 (Verse dependent)
Gender: Male
Height; 168 cm (5'6")
Bio
Touma is a first-year highschool student who is a resident of Academy City, designated as a Level 0. He possesses the mysterious âImagine Breakerâ in his right hand, which is capable of negating all forms of magic, esper powers, and other divine abilities. This, according to some, even includes his own good luck, as they are the blessings of God. He has a very strong desire to aid all those who are in need even if it means putting his life on the line and will not hesitate to challenge an opponent who is several times more powerful than himself. Because of his willingness to help others unconditionally, he has attracted the affections of many characters in his adventures.
Personality & Character
Touma is the type that acts before he thinks. He can never just sit around upon seeing someone in a pinch and will go to great lengths to protect or help the person. This he does at great risk to himself, which typically results in him being hospitalized for several days after each confrontation. When fighting seriously against a particularly strong opponent, Touma will usually first declare that heâll âdestroy that illusionâ of theirs, before actually engaging. When asked about the reason why he saves people, he answered: âI donât need a reason to save someoneâ. Even when he is in a blank slate after losing his memories, Touma still displays this personality.
Despite his righteous and heroic personality, Touma occasionally displays poor choice of words which results in him getting bitten by Index, having bolts of lightning thrown by Misaka Mikoto, and creating misunderstandings with the other girls he encounters.
Powers & Abilities
Toumaâs ability is Imagine Breaker (ć軿łæźșăă€ăăžăłăăŹă€ă«ăŒ GensĆ Goroshi (Imajin BureikÄ)?, lit. âIllusion Killerâ), a mysterious power that resides in his right hand that he has had since birth. It is able to negate all supernatural powers including magic, esper, and divine powers, the last of these demonstrated by Archangel Gabrielâs fear of touching him. It is also speculated by Index that it negates the divine protection of God and his blessing, as well as the red string of fate. Touma is the current holder of the Imagine Breaker, and the mysterious power itself has a preference to Touma being its bearer, as there is meaning in Touma having it in his right hand, or in Fiammaâs own words: âthe right hand is only the right hand when it is growing from his right shoulder.â According to Othinus, Toumaâs knack for escaping dangerous situations through external factors and his inability to die is a form of misfortune as well, and she refers to it as the âgreatest of all [his] misfortunesâ.
Since it is not an esper power, the people testing esper abilities cannot detect or properly classify it, so he was classified as Level 0 as he has nevertheless passed through the Power Curriculum Program. As such, Aleister Crowley considers him neither an esper nor a magician but rather a normal person with a unique ability. This gray area allows Touma to participate and get involved in the intrigue of the other side without causing a political backlash for technically being part of the Science Side.
There are many unknowns regarding Toumaâs power, and many are the speculations of the true extent and form of his power. Terra of the Left hinted that Imagine Breaker might extend itself further away from its bearer's right hand, based on Terra's personal knowledge of Fiamma of the Right's Holy Right ability. Ollerus stated that Imagine Breaker is the reference point of the world, bringing the world back to normal when it is distorted. It appears that Touma might not be capable of negating all "artificial" supernatural abilities. Tsuchimikado Motoharu is convinced that there are things that Touma's Imagine Breaker cannot destroy, including ley lines or a person's life force from which a magician's mana is produced, as evidenced by the fact Touma hasn't killed someone through a simple handshake. This claim is corroborated by Leivinia Birdway, stating that although Imagine Breaker works exceedingly well when it is normalizing abnormal values, it does not show much power when dealing with something that is uniform from the start. Because of this, if a supernatural power/object is sufficiently powerful or massive enough in size it will not be completely negated right away, as shown by the examples of Dragon's Breath, Innocentius, Accelerator's Black Wings,and others. To compensate for this glaring weakness, Touma has realized that he need not negate but simply cast it aside, disrupting it so to speak. It is during the state where he cannot negate it completely that Touma can physically touch or grab the power, disrupting it instead of instantly destroying it. This is exemplified during Touma's fight with Accelerator in Russia, in which he pulled one of Accelerator's black wings to throw him off balance and dodge his attack. That single touch was capable of negating the vector-controlling power of said wing as well
Beyond the Right HandÂ
Aleister Crowley has also gained interest in Touma's power and integrated it into his plans, and from his comments to Heaven Canceller it's likely that he arranged the events that led to Touma being sent to Academy City by Kamijou Touya, which resulted in the birth of Kazakiri Hyouka out of fear of the Imagine Breaker. Aleister has monitored Touma's danger level to Academy City and labelled it equivalent to DEFCON 3, and found that Imagine Breaker can affect 97% of his plans. It is unknown what the true extent of Aleister's plans for Imagine Breaker are, but he has stated that his plans are similar to Fiamma's, only in a different format: to change the world by preparing a temple filled with strange power, drawing out the power of the right arm within that temple, and adjusting the thickness of the phase itself with that power. He told Fiamma of the Right that if Fiamma looked at it in a different viewpoint, he should be able to understand the true nature of that power, and if he did, he would have reached his goal before Aleister could.
When Fiamma severed Touma's right arm along with the Imagine Breaker in order to absorb that power into himself, an "invisible thing" gathered on Touma's right shoulder which made all that Fiamma had pale in comparison. Touma unexpectedly crushed that power with an even greater power and then took back the Imagine Breaker. Though the true nature of these powers is unclear, Touma is shown to be able to communicate with the "invisible thing", referring to the power as "you" before refusing to use its power, crushing it and regenerating his lost right arm.
After Fiamma's right arm was severed by Aleister, it was confirmed there is more to Touma's right hand than just "a right hand that can negate supernatural ability". Touma's right hand is a vessel that can be used to house a greater power, and this is the main reason why Aleister and Fiamma seek Touma's right hand, not for Imagine Breaker.
While attempting to stop the Level 6 Shift attempt on Misaka Mikoto, when Eight Dragons emerge from Kamijou Touma's severed right arm, Touma attempted to negate Mikoto's attack, but it was too powerful and his right arm was blown off. Eight dragons, including the same dragon from the fight against Aureolus Izzard, then emerged and devoured the attack, returning Mikoto to normal. His arm reappeared shortly after without any help, to the confusion of Mikoto.
When Touma and Kamisato Kakeru clashed with their respective right hands, Kakeru's World Rejector severed Touma's right arm and sent it to another world. This caused something to emerge and badly injure Kakeru. The entity then disappeared and Touma's right arm regenerated. Kakeru believes that this is due to World Rejector not erasing everything at the same time, but rather working from the outside in. As a result, it erased Imagine Breaker but there was a slight time lag afterwards, allowing the entity within to attack him. Touma, on the other hand, is less certain. He believes that the entity that could defeat World Rejector cannot be the same as the one that was easily crushed by Magic God Othinus (Magic Gods being easily erased by World Rejector) He thus wonders if there are multiple entities inside him.Â
During the events surrounding the Ceremony of Mo Athair, in which Touma was severely injured and had his arm severed multiple times (once by Aleister using the A.A.A.'s chainsaw so healing magic could be used to save his life and then by Coronzon's Secret Call sent through the unguarded A.A.A. in a surprise attack from behind), the lock on the entity lurking behind Imagine Breaker was broken. After the initial explosion, as a result of the accumulated damage and Touma's own regrets, the emanating power took on Touma's identity, taking much of the overall power and Imagine Breaker with it. Until the lost powers were reclaimed, the remaining power left within Touma took the form of a sky-blue right arm, which could unravel and surround him in the form of a dragon.
Verses
A Certain Unknown Imagine Breaker (Main Verse AU)
Originally called A Certain Illusion Killer, this verse takes place primarily in the Raildex Universe, but diverges heavily from Canon after the Magic Gods arc in New Testament. Arcs for this verse are in development. New characters appearing in this are mainly OCâs although Raildex versions of other characters can appear in this as well. Main arcs so far are the Lawain Incursion Arc, Lioness Arc, The Order of Camelot Arc, The New World Order Arc, and the Xindi Collective Arc.
A Certain Distorted Singularity (Fate Verse)
After a series of unexpected events, Touma is dragged into a Singularity in which the Chaleda Security Organization moves in to stop. After resolving the incident, Touma is brought in as a freelancer of sorts to help Chaldea whenever they need his assistance. He gets along fairly well with the Master and most of the staff, however, most servants are cautious around him due to the nature of Imagine Breaker. This vague cautiousness remains even after they have accepted him as a trust worthy ally.
Because of the danger of Touma accidently negating a servant out of existence, he wears a shroud around his right hand which suppresses Imagine Breakerâs affects.
A Certain Song That Destroys Illusions (Symphogear verse)
Following his antics with Academy Cityâs Number 3 Level 5, Misaka Mikoto, Kamijou Touma is somehow transported to another version of Earth where the moon has a huge creator on its surface and rings. He is caught up in an attack by the Alca-Noise and winds up meeting the wielder of Gungnir, Tachibana Hibiki. Touma is then introduced to S.O.N.G and the other gear wielders and decides to help them in their battles against the Alca-Noise and the forces that controls them â- while also looking for a way to return to his earth.
A Wish That Destroys Illusions (Dragon Ball Verse)
After an experiment to detect other worlds caused by the Kiharas goes awry, Academy City is transported to the Earth in the Dragon Ball Universe.There, Touma must contend with beings far stronger than he has ever faced previously. Eventually, he meets a certain Saiyan who has saved the universe many times who then trains Touma to properly contend with the threats their earth and Academy City now faces. Â Touma is not able to reach the level of the Saiyans and is still an amateur as a fighter, however, his imagine breaker gives him an advantage over his enemies which allows him to negate Ki attacks and Ki fields.
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~~~Witchcraft 101~~~ Part 1
Alongside all the shit thatâs happened in the tag, Iâve had a few people come and ask me about resources, traditions, spells and everything in between.Â
So I always have a post to reference back to or just link when asked in future, this will be dedicated to answering some of the questions Iâve received in chats etc.
These will be split up into different posts cause otherwise it will be long!
DISCLAIMER: These are the resources I have used and the definition of witchcraft I subscribe to. It does not seek to invalidate any other practitioners irl or on witchblr who have opposing views. I feel I need to state this since thereâs a lot of âYOUâRE INVALIDATING MEâ going around.Â
On with the show...
What is Witchcraft?
There are many different types and paths to follow but the general definition isÂ
âthe practice of magicâ.
But Toxic, thatâs so vague.
Ay, it is. Now you have to start splitting hairs about what magic is as well as does it exist? Again, defining a term that most people will have some sort of opinion on. This is the tricky bit on witchblr; the bit people seem to be biting each otherâs faces off about. Looking at the broad definition if googled you get:-
1.the power of apparently influencing events by using mysterious or supernatural forces.
Thatâs the definition attributed more to witchcraft and sorcery than others that lean more towards stage magic like illusions or slight of hand.
This cornerstone of witchcraft - this giant pink elephant in the room - is so often glossed over in many of our books or podcasts. Thereâs almost an assumption at the door that âof course you know what magic is. Itâs that stuff that happens. The thing... you know, the thing?â
But Toxic, how can someone write about witchcraft and not actually define magic?
Apparently, very easily. If you look back into some of the older resources dating to the so called âwitchcraft revivalâ you notice a few more hints than modern texts. A good example is from the devil himself Aleister Crowley, who defined magic as being "the Science and Art of causing Change to occur in conformity with Will". This was, of course, in line with his Thelemic theory where âWillâ is in reference to a Thelemites true path in life or true cause. Not to be mistaken with the idea that itâs just anything in particular a Thelemite may desire or want.
So, again it can appear quite vague. However, the reoccurring theme seems to be about being able to bring about a change or exerting influence over something or someone.Â
Well, you can do that just by getting up and physically doing something. So is just doing SOMETHING magic?
Good question. If magic is defined by âjust causing a changeâ then practically everything is magic. I changed my light bulb. I changed my clothes. Magic. Give me my 4th grade High Apprentice to the Overseer Gods stamp and letâs call it a day.
Obviously, most practitioners donât go by that definition purely for the fact that what would be the fucking point? If magic were that easy why would anyone need to do anything more than âjust physically do itâ? Need to attract money? Just physically fucking do it. Fill out a job application and hope for the best. Youâve done something. Thatâs all you can do. The idea that magic is just âdoing somethingâ takes away other basic ideas that people have about whatâs involved. This definition doesnât concern itself with anything supernatural and therefore wouldnât hinge on ideas like spirits, luck, energy, deities or intent. The only thing you can âinfluenceâ is probability or likelihood through tangible, physical changes. If I send out x amount of job applications I have a higher likelihood of finding a job than if I didnât. No crystals or spells needed.
So why is the tag full of pretty crystals and shit?
Thatâs where people revert to the first definition. That idea that youâre using supernatural or mysterious forces to create change. People who follow this definition go by the idea that you, as a human, are not enough to create some of the larger scale more ambiguous changes to the universe. After all, a word youâll see a lot on witchblr is âattractâ or even ârepelâ.
How do you âattractâ money? or love? That would go beyond the physicality of going out and looking for these things and suggest there is some inherent âforceâ behind them that can be altered in your favour. Whether you believe it to be a deity, fate or just a particular energy. There lies the realm of the supernatural. The scientifically ambiguous idea that you can alter an aspect of real life by using these supernatural entities or ideas.Â
Thatâs where the variation of witchcraft comes in. Not everyone has the same ideas about what these supernatural entities are, what to call them or even how to deal with them. Mainly, you have cultural differences where different deities have popped up overtime. Even the same deities may appear in different places or the job the deity is assigned shifts over a length of time. The important thing to remember is WITCHCRAFT IS NOT A RELIGION. IT IS A PRACTICE.
Whilst calling on deities during rituals is common not all witches do it. Some believe the supernatural forces are spirits, some believe mainly in ancestors whilst others may only believe vaguely in energies like luck or fate. Whatever it is a witch tends to work with, most will prescribe to the idea that magic is a change they have bought about due to their relationship with these supernatural forces. Thus implying that their status as a witch is because of this cultivated relationship and skill that others that either do not believe in magic or have not studied in it wouldnât have.Â
The definition from my path is the change in an aspect of the world that the witch is able to control through the use of their relationship with the dark mother and their ancestors as a fulcrum point.Â
Okay, but how do you define a supernatural force?
With great difficulty. Obviously, scientifically speaking there is no hard evidence that these forces do or donât exist. Like religions there is some factor of âpure beliefâ when it comes to these entities or forces, which is why there are so many different versions. Then on top of that there are so many different versions on how to deal with those entities or forces depending on how strong and how sentient you think they are.Â
What about the placebo effect, got you there!
Fair point. Are you really effecting change or are you convincing yourself that youâre effecting change? As a species humans have a certain tendency to apophenia. In other words, we look for patterns in things even if theyâre actually completely unrelated. Give someone a sugar pill telling them itâll help them loose weight and it might do just that. The psychosomatic power of telling yourself youâre going to do something can be very effective.
Do I consider the placebo effect magic? No. Iâm a trained scientist who approaches magic a little more analytically than I should. The placebo effect has scientific roots that have some scientific explanation. Therefore, to me, itâs science not supernatural and therefore not magic. I, personally, emphasise the supernatural part of my own pathâs definition so I can feel like I have clearer results. Again, venturing back to the âis everything magic because if so nothing is magicâ scenario. If magic had no supernatural basis and was completely rooted in known, evidence based science Iâd call it just that, âscienceâ. I wouldnât say âwitchâ, Iâd say âscientistâ.
When you mix the two together you blur your own results. If you call the placebo effect magic you tack onto your practice the fact that itâs a false positive.You may feel like somethingâs happened but nothing has. Youâve not actually changed anything about the physical world, you may not have even changed anything beyond your own personal point of view. That veers into the territory of well being, mental health and personal problems. Those again are things with their basis in science and health sciences specifically.Â
However, some people may disagree with me. It depends on the Witch you talk to.
Next post weâll look at the various ways people may cultivate their relationship with the supernatural entity they deal with depending on path.
#witchblr#witchcraft#deities#supernatural#witchy#witch#trad#traditional witchcraft#gods#goddesses#energy#all that shit#witchcraft 101#part 1
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The Fraternitas Saturni: History, Doctrine, and Rituals of the Magical Order of the Brotherhood of Saturn
https://liber-al.com/?p=28356&wpwautoposter=1567247002 Stephen E. Flowers Inner Traditions Bear and Company, USA, 2018. Paperback. Revised and Expanded edition. 224 pages. Brand New. The most influential magical group in Germany during the 20th century, the Fraternitas Saturni or Brotherhood of Saturn, is still the most active and important magical society in Germany today. But from its formal beginnings in 1926 in Weimar Berlin until around 1970 it was almost totally secret. Most of what is known about the Order in the English-speaking world is fragmentary and focuses exclusively on the sensational sex-magic practices and Luciferian tendencies of this magical lodge. Presenting the most in-depth work in English on the Fraternitas Saturni, Stephen Flowers examines the history of the Order from the mid-1920s to the late 1960s when the Order was fundamentally reformed. He details their path of initiation, secret doctrines, ritual practices and magical formulae and offers biographies of the Orderâs most prominent members, including founder Gregor A. Gregorius, Karl Spiesberger (Frater Eratus), Albin Grau (Master Pacitius) and Franz Saettler (Dr. Musallam). Exploring the Brotherhoodâs guiding principles, he shows that at the heart of Saturnian ideology is the idea of Saturn-Gnosis: the interplay of opposing forces in the universe leading to the realisation of the individual self as a god-like entity. He examines the Orderâs teachings on cosmology, the Kabbalah, the Saturnian Sacraments, electrical magic, sexo-cosmology, sex-magic rites and sexual mysticism â the Yoga of the Dark Light â and transcribes many of their actual rituals and practices, including the highly controversial Gradus Pentalphae, in such detail that readers will be able to undertake their own experiential work. Explaining the meanings of all 33 grades of the Order, the author, also, looks at the infamous Freemasonic Order of the Golden Centurium, the cult of Adonism, the links between Thelema and the Fraternitas Saturni and the rare teachings of Master Pacitius (Albin Grau), the visual genius behind the film Nosferatu. He, also, includes rare reports by Aleister Crowley concerning his interaction with some of the forerunners to the Order and letters from the Orderâs founder, Gregor A. Gregorius, to the âGreat Beast.â · Explores the history of the Order from its founding the late 1960s · Transcribes many rituals and practices in such detail that readers will be able to undertake their own experiential work · Examines the Orderâs teachings on cosmology, the Kabbalah, the Saturnian Sacraments, electrical magic and sexual mysticism â the Yoga of the Dark Light · Includes biographies of prominent members, including founder Gregor A. Gregorius, Karl Spiesberger (Frater Eratus) and Albin Grau (Master Pacitius) âThe Western esoteric tradition, from which this bookâs subject emerges, has now gained acceptance as a branch of the Western canon worthy of scholarly inquiry and as a discipline deserving of its seat in the academy. Flowers casts light on one of the 20th centuryâs most secretive, intriguing (and misunderstood) occult orders, the Fraternitas Saturni. This is a fascinating and highly readable study of the Orderâs tantric, astrosophical, and Nietzchean doctrines; their Gnostic sexual cosmologies and practices; their quasi-masonic structure; the Orderâs enigmatic and innovative figures such as FS Grand Master Gregor A. Gregorius; and the influence of Aleister Crowley, Thelema, and the Ordo Templi Orientis (O.T.O.) on the Brotherhood.â (Stephen J. King (Shiva X°), Grand Master, Ordo Templi Orientis) âGermanyâs contribution to the Western magical tradition reaches back, in modern form, to the medieval Grail myths, the founding of the original Rosicrucian Order and its many later derivatives, the quasi-masonic operations of the Bavarian Illuminati, Germanyâs legendary influence on the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn, and, of course, its role in the founding and early development of the Ordo Templi Orientis. The Fraternitas Saturni Order is heir to all of these, and Stephen Flowers, Ph.D., has devoted decades to expanding and deepening the research that led to his first groundbreaking book on the Order. This fourth revised and enlarged edition may at last represent the completion of that herculean task as it more deeply explores and communicates the Orderâs mysteries to a yet wider audience. Critically, Flowers elucidates at length on the primary characteristic that makes the Fraternitas Saturni so uniqueâits dual emphasis on social lodge work and group ritual, balanced by its curriculum of disciplined individual practices that must be accomplished in silence by each member.â (James Wasserman, author of The Mystery Traditions) âStephen Flowers lets the cat out of the bag on the subject of the Fraternitas Saturni and takes us into the richly Faustian world of Germanic occultism from which the order emerged, created out of a heady brew of Freemasonry, astrology, Golden Dawn magic, Crowleyâs Thelema, and much more. With its detailed descriptions of the orderâs rituals and practices, this book is an eye-opener with a vengeance.â (Christopher McIntosh, Ph.D., author of Eliphas LĂ©vi and the French Occult Revival) Stephen E. Flowers, Ph.D., received his doctorate in Germanic languages and medieval studies from the University of Texas at Austin and studied the history of occultism at the University of Göttingen, Germany. The author of more than 24 books, including Lords of the Left-Hand Path and Original Magic, he lives near Smithville, Texas.
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Dreams
Carry On Countdown Day 4
Snowbaz
Length: 1641 words
Genre: no clue
AN: I JUST finished writing the last part of this but I had to finish it before family gets home so apologies if the end is poorly edited or feels rushed.
-
BAZ
Curse every damn insufferable thought Iâve had about life being better without Snow. Heâs not even technically gone, just avoiding me. I canât recall the last time he looked me in the eyes.Â
He wonât speak to me, fight me, punch me when I try my best to rile him up. Itâs like Snow has become a ghost, or I have. How fitting, I enter into a worse state of undead. Itâs torture. I almost miss the pain of his knuckles on my jaw. I crave any attention heâll give me but no matter what I try, heâs silent. I canât think of a time heâs been so tortuously passive. Snowâs always so reactive and angry and big. I cannot think what has happened to cause this.Â
-Two Weeks Earlier-
SIMON
Agatha dumped me and I canât say anyone was too surprised. Iâm a terrible boyfriend. Plus, I know sheâs been eyeing Baz for months. I caught the two of them sneaking off one evening after supper so I followed, I had to.Â
I was met with the image of my enemy and ex girlfriend holding hands. They were behind the dining hall. Warm light spilled across them, but I made sure to stay in the shadows. I watched them from around the corner of the building.Â
âWellbelove,â Baz spoke, firm but kinder than Iâd ever heard his voice. His back was to me. I wonder if his face looks kind too. âWe all know you belong with Snow.â Confusion clouds my mind. Heâs been after her for years! Why is he turning her down now?! I lean in to the rough stone corner to try and hear them better.Â
âHow can you know where I belong!?â She says exasperated. She pulls her hands from him and balls them by her sides.
âAgatha,â My face goes hot, how dare he speak so soft to her, and use her first name. âFor many reasons, we can never be together.â
Her hand presses in to his cheek. Her eyes look teary. Anger roils in my stomach. Jealousy lights my insides. How dare he, no how dare she, no-
My thoughts are a mess as she leans closer to Baz. She kisses his cheek. Baz walks past her and leaves around the opposite corner that Iâm standing. Aggie just stands there. I think Iâm sick to my stomach. Why??Â
âFor many reasons, we can never be together.â a hand reaches to his cheek. Iâm so sad. I can feel a tear running down my cheek. Itâs cold and dark and suddenly Iâm alone in the Wavering Woods. Iâm searching for something, or someone, but who?Â
In a clearing I see them again. But this time, Iâm standing where Baz should be. Agatha tells me I belong with Baz. She walks away. I see myself reaching for her wrist but then Iâm holding someone's arm. They say, âWe can never be togetherâ again. We are both sad about it. My heart aches so strongly. I kiss them. I think we are floating. A warm yellow light around us morphs to moon gray. We are stars. He runs a hand through my hair. I respond by pushing a hand into the inky black surrounding his head. Itâs Baz. Iâm kissing Baz.Â
I wake up to our bedroom door slamming. Fuck.
It must be past midnight and Baz just came to bed (probably from the catacombs). My heart is racing. I try to steady my breathing. I try to ignore him but I think heâs drunk and heâs tossing in his bed now, and I just had a dream about kissing Baz. My enemy. A vampire. I can feel my magic bubbling up and I worry Iâll go off if I donât calm down, so I race to the bathroom.
The light burns my eyes but at least I feel like I can breath. The cool tile helps my magic settle. What the bloody hell was that dream?
I sit on the floor for hours trying to process everything. Agatha leaving me, Baz rejecting her, the dream. My mind keeps coming back to the feeling of warmth when I dreamt I was kissing Baz. It felt like we belonged there.Â
But thatâs fine right? Dreams are weird all the time, they donât mean anything. I should just go back to bed and stop thinking about it. Itâs almost sunrise. But that paired with my feelings about last evening⊠I donât think I was mad at Agatha. I mean, I donât want her to be with Baz. I think-
Iâm struck with a realization. A very terrifying truth crosses my mind. This cannot be. This cannot be. The longer I sit with it the more it makes sense. My following him, the constant fear of plotting, obsessively talking about him. I like Baz. I, love Baz. As soon as I fully form that thought he bangs on the door.
âSnow!â Hurry up in there!â I scramble to my feet. This is going to be hell.Â
-The Present-
BAZ
Iâve had enough. Two weeks of avoidance and I canât stand it anymore. Iâve decided to take things into my own hands. On a rare moment when weâre both in the room I confront him. Snow walks through the door and I pin him to the wall.Â
âAnathema.â He squeaks before I ask,
âWhy are you avoiding me.â
âI-itâs youâŠâ
âSpit it out, Snowâ
He hesitates like heâs trying to come up with a lie but he blurts, âI had a dream where we kissed and I- liked it!â We both stare in shock. For a shaky moment I believe him. You canât just say stuff like that.
âOh sod off.â I push away from him and quickly school my face into one of indifference.
âBu-â
âI donât know what game this is but I wonât stand for lies, Snow.â
âIâm- Baz, itâs, look. I donât want this! Why would I make that up? You probably think Iâm gross now. Which is fine. You already hate me but I canât be around you. Okay?â
âBecause you had a wet dream about me?â I cross my arms. Simon Snow will be the death of me. He blushes furiously.Â
âIt. Was not. A. Wet. Dream.â He takes a deep breath in. âBut yes. Now why donât you save us all some time and get out your best insults about this now.â I stare at him trying to figure out whatâs happening. My mind is running a thousand miles a minute. Snow, had a romantic dream about me. And he admitted it! And he sounded a bit like me with that last line. It hurts that he expects me to laugh at him for this, but given our history I canât blame him. Can I tell him I like him too? Can I kiss him? I donât think so. I canât insult him though. Iâm an asshole but I wonât pretend to be homophobic. Do I tell him Iâm gay?? Thatâs probably too much.
âCâmon Baz, canât think of any good ones?â
âPardon?â He smirks a little and Iâm totally lost on what about this is smirk worthy.
âWell right about now you should be making fun of me. Right?â I think Iâve entered an alternate reality. Snow doesnât say things like this. I donât get confessions from my enemy/crush in real life.
âDo you want me to?â I donât want to. I donât know why I asked that.
His face drops again. âNo.â Thereâs silence. Do we drop this whole bizarre interaction and move on now? I donât want it to be over.
âDo you want me to kiss you?â Fuck. I was not supposed to say that. I didnât even manage a passably sarcastic tone. He blushes even stronger. Aleister Crowley, heâs going to tell me this was all a prank and then run his sword through me. Damn the Anathema.Â
He looks at me with a question then determination. This is how I die.Â
Snow fills the small spaces between us and before I can process whatâs happening heâs kissing me. Simon Snow is kissing me.Â
SIMON
Iâve most definitely made a giant mistake. Why would he ask if I wanted to kiss him seriously? It was a joke, he didnât mean it but my body acted before my brain. (I can hear Bazâs voice scoff âTypicalâ in my head).
But then heâs kissing me back. Basilton Pitch is kissing me back. Itâs awkward at first, then I feel him let himself relax into it. His hand on my cheek is cool yet comforting. Itâs everything I never thought I wanted. Thatâs not true.
Iâve wanted to run my hands through his hair to see how it feels. Itâs silky. Iâve wanted to hold his hand, so I reach for it, his palm is rough. His lips are so soft. I know mine are chapped. I donât know why Baz is letting me kiss him, but Iâll make the most of it.Â
BAZ
Half my brain is overrun with pleasure and the other half is frantically categorizing and memorizing every single detail of this encounter. I donât know why Snow is kissing me, but Iâll never let this moment leave my mind.Â
It feels like weâre tangled in each other for hours, but when he pulls away itâs far too soon.Â
âBaz,â He sounds out of breath. I donât trust my voice, so I simply nod. âI like you, but, is this what you really want?â
I nod. âIâve dreamt of this too, Simon.â I say before reaching towards his face again. He goes back to kissing me and starts doing a glorious thing with his chin. I donât know what this is, or how long it will last, but right now Iâm so happy I canât ask.
#can you tell I started this with a much older wip then cramed the dream aspect into it 'cause I thought it would work#then rushed to write the end because I have poor time management skills?#yes?#oh okay 'cause that is exactly what happened#hope you enjoyed! :))))))))#carry on countdown#carry on countdown 2019#coc 2019#coc#carry on fanfiction#carry on fanfic#simon snow#snowbaz#snowbaz fanfic#snowbaz fanfiction#fanfiction#fanfic#baz pitch#tyrannus basilton grimm pitch#basilton pitch#dreams#dreams prompt#pinning#1k words#simon snow and baz pitch
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Pets
(Carry On Countdown Day 15)
(SnowBaz)
Length: 1,008 words
Genre: fluff
Trigger Warnings: None
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BAZ
Yes Iâm weak, but anyone on this planet who could refuse Simon Snow a dog when heâs smothering them with kisses and pleading with puppy eyes is more dead inside than I am (and Iâm actually dead).
After weeks of âsubtleâ hints from Snow and eventually him unashamedly begging me for a dog, I gave in.
Iâm not against dogs by any means, Iâm just not particularly found of them. I was also worried I might drain the poor thing if I got too thirsty but Snow, in his usually harsh yet caring way, argued that I wouldnât because I am not a monster and I can control myself. Iâd be more annoyed at him if it didnât send my heart into a flurry every time he defended me.
Today we agreed weâd go to an animal shelter and check out the pets. Snow, shocked when I finally agreed, still didnât have an idea of what kind of dog he wanted. I donât particularly care as long as itâs easy to manage.
When Snow sees the first puppy, all my objections and doubts disappear. His face actually shines, I swear he is the fucking sun. He smiles wide and his eyes are filled with happiness. Snow actually squeals when the small chihuahua licked him. He pets the girl until he gets distracted by another dog. This one a chocolate lab puppy.
He repeats his previous response of squealing and grinning, I think he actually jumps with excitement this time. Aleister Crowley, I hope I can survive this day.
âWhoâs a good little pup? Huh? Huh? Thatâs right! Itâs you! You are so cute. Baz! Can we get this one?â Simon looks up at me. The only way I can refuse him is by reminding myself if we stay Iâll get to see more of these glorious interactions.
âShouldnât we look at more before we make a final decision?â He stands, reluctantly seeing my reasoning.
âYeah.â Snow takes my hand.
We continue looking and petting the dogs. First a beagle, then a bulldog pup, an old German shepherd. Upon seeing a dachshund Snow laughed and gestured at me.
âThey look like you Baz!â I role my eyes and raise a brow.
âI do not look li-â
âSee, they even have little brown eyebrows!â He smiles, proud of himself for some reason. I hold back a smile by smirking.
âWell if I look like a dachshund then you look like...â I search for a dog, âThat dog there, the golden retriever.â It was chewing on a blanket and itâs fur was quite tousled. Snow, seeing the dog exclaimed,
âAw theyâre so cute! Maybe we should get this one?â Snow goes to pet the animal Iâd just compared him to. I step closer and the retriever licks my hand. âShe likes you.â Snow says as I scratch behind her ears. âHer name is Lucy.â He informs me.
âHi Lucy.â I continue to pet her as Snow discovers more dogs to ogle over. I let myself wander around for a bit.
SIMON
âBaz. Baz?â I scan the room. He isnât here. I guess I was too busy playing tug-a-war with Lucy to notice heâd gone. But where did he go?
I walk out of the room and start heading to the car until I see a figure in the room where they keep cats. Unsure if itâs Baz I walk in quietly. I stand in the doorway, and when I see whatâs happening my heart melts.
Baz is sat criss cross on the floor, in his expensive black suit. Heâs holding a tiny gray cat in his arms. His voice is barely a whisper as he speaks nothings, while petting the kitten. The baby cat has the cutest expression on itâs face, as does my boyfriend. I can tell the catâs purring. Baz is so enraptured with the little ball of fur I think heâs in his own universe.
Reluctant to spoil this pure moment I kneel in front of Baz.
âWe should get this one.â He startles a bit, causing the kitten to reveal itâs beautiful emerald eyes. Baz tries to regain his composure but a small smile stays on his face. He seems a little hurt when he says.
âNo I promised you a dog, have you decided on one yet?â
âWell, yeah, I really like Lucy, the golden retriever. but this cat is so cute! And you obviously love it, we should get them instead.â He seems touched but I can tell heâs going to argue with me. Before Baz can get anything out though, and employee walks in.
âWow. You got Leaf to cuddle up with you? Thatâs pretty impressive, he likes being alone usually.â and they went about their task.
âBaz. His name is Leaf. Leaf! Thatâs so adorable!â I gasp, realizing somethings, âItâs perfect!â
âWha-â
âI know someone else whoâs a leaf.â I wiggle my eyebrows. Baz makes a big showy eye roll. He knows whatâs coming. âBasil? Basil leaves? Leaf? Eh?â I know heâs tired of my name puns but itâs so funny to see him react.
âYou are terrible,â he states matter-of-factly, âand w-â
âWe have to get this cat. You may be the only person he will love! And you match!â I fake dramatics to convince him.
âNo, Snow, youâre the one who wanted a pet, so weâre getting Lucy.â A brilliant idea strikes me.
âWe can get both!â
âNo we cannot.â Heâs trying to be stern and responsible. âBesides itâs a well know fact most dogs and cats donât get along.â
âActually,â the employee from before buts in, âIf youâre talking about Lucy, sheâs very good with small children and other animals.â
âThank you!â I beam at Baz. âWe have to get both.â He looks torn. I can tell he wants to argue but he knows Iâll win.
âFine, have it your way Snow, weâll get both pets.â I give him a quick peck and stand up. Lucy and Leaf are going to be great additions to our family of two.
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I wonât bore you with a paragraph of my opinions this time. Thank you for reading, I hope you liked it. Please let me know how I could improve.
#day 15#coc 2017#carry on countdown 2017#carry on countdown#carry on fanfiction#carry on#snowbaz#snowbaz fanfiction#fanfiction#carry on countdown fanfiction#simon snow#baz pitch#pets#animals#fanficiton
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The Fraternitas Saturni: History, Doctrine, and Rituals of the Magical Order of the Brotherhood of Saturn
https://liber-al.com/?p=28356&wpwautoposter=1566134572 Stephen E. Flowers Inner Traditions Bear and Company, USA, 2018. Paperback. Revised and Expanded edition. 224 pages. Brand New. The most influential magical group in Germany during the 20th century, the Fraternitas Saturni or Brotherhood of Saturn, is still the most active and important magical society in Germany today. But from its formal beginnings in 1926 in Weimar Berlin until around 1970 it was almost totally secret. Most of what is known about the Order in the English-speaking world is fragmentary and focuses exclusively on the sensational sex-magic practices and Luciferian tendencies of this magical lodge. Presenting the most in-depth work in English on the Fraternitas Saturni, Stephen Flowers examines the history of the Order from the mid-1920s to the late 1960s when the Order was fundamentally reformed. He details their path of initiation, secret doctrines, ritual practices and magical formulae and offers biographies of the Orderâs most prominent members, including founder Gregor A. Gregorius, Karl Spiesberger (Frater Eratus), Albin Grau (Master Pacitius) and Franz Saettler (Dr. Musallam). Exploring the Brotherhoodâs guiding principles, he shows that at the heart of Saturnian ideology is the idea of Saturn-Gnosis: the interplay of opposing forces in the universe leading to the realisation of the individual self as a god-like entity. He examines the Orderâs teachings on cosmology, the Kabbalah, the Saturnian Sacraments, electrical magic, sexo-cosmology, sex-magic rites and sexual mysticism â the Yoga of the Dark Light â and transcribes many of their actual rituals and practices, including the highly controversial Gradus Pentalphae, in such detail that readers will be able to undertake their own experiential work. Explaining the meanings of all 33 grades of the Order, the author, also, looks at the infamous Freemasonic Order of the Golden Centurium, the cult of Adonism, the links between Thelema and the Fraternitas Saturni and the rare teachings of Master Pacitius (Albin Grau), the visual genius behind the film Nosferatu. He, also, includes rare reports by Aleister Crowley concerning his interaction with some of the forerunners to the Order and letters from the Orderâs founder, Gregor A. Gregorius, to the âGreat Beast.â · Explores the history of the Order from its founding the late 1960s · Transcribes many rituals and practices in such detail that readers will be able to undertake their own experiential work · Examines the Orderâs teachings on cosmology, the Kabbalah, the Saturnian Sacraments, electrical magic and sexual mysticism â the Yoga of the Dark Light · Includes biographies of prominent members, including founder Gregor A. Gregorius, Karl Spiesberger (Frater Eratus) and Albin Grau (Master Pacitius) âThe Western esoteric tradition, from which this bookâs subject emerges, has now gained acceptance as a branch of the Western canon worthy of scholarly inquiry and as a discipline deserving of its seat in the academy. Flowers casts light on one of the 20th centuryâs most secretive, intriguing (and misunderstood) occult orders, the Fraternitas Saturni. This is a fascinating and highly readable study of the Orderâs tantric, astrosophical, and Nietzchean doctrines; their Gnostic sexual cosmologies and practices; their quasi-masonic structure; the Orderâs enigmatic and innovative figures such as FS Grand Master Gregor A. Gregorius; and the influence of Aleister Crowley, Thelema, and the Ordo Templi Orientis (O.T.O.) on the Brotherhood.â (Stephen J. King (Shiva X°), Grand Master, Ordo Templi Orientis) âGermanyâs contribution to the Western magical tradition reaches back, in modern form, to the medieval Grail myths, the founding of the original Rosicrucian Order and its many later derivatives, the quasi-masonic operations of the Bavarian Illuminati, Germanyâs legendary influence on the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn, and, of course, its role in the founding and early development of the Ordo Templi Orientis. The Fraternitas Saturni Order is heir to all of these, and Stephen Flowers, Ph.D., has devoted decades to expanding and deepening the research that led to his first groundbreaking book on the Order. This fourth revised and enlarged edition may at last represent the completion of that herculean task as it more deeply explores and communicates the Orderâs mysteries to a yet wider audience. Critically, Flowers elucidates at length on the primary characteristic that makes the Fraternitas Saturni so uniqueâits dual emphasis on social lodge work and group ritual, balanced by its curriculum of disciplined individual practices that must be accomplished in silence by each member.â (James Wasserman, author of The Mystery Traditions) âStephen Flowers lets the cat out of the bag on the subject of the Fraternitas Saturni and takes us into the richly Faustian world of Germanic occultism from which the order emerged, created out of a heady brew of Freemasonry, astrology, Golden Dawn magic, Crowleyâs Thelema, and much more. With its detailed descriptions of the orderâs rituals and practices, this book is an eye-opener with a vengeance.â (Christopher McIntosh, Ph.D., author of Eliphas LĂ©vi and the French Occult Revival) Stephen E. Flowers, Ph.D., received his doctorate in Germanic languages and medieval studies from the University of Texas at Austin and studied the history of occultism at the University of Göttingen, Germany. The author of more than 24 books, including Lords of the Left-Hand Path and Original Magic, he lives near Smithville, Texas.
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