#blasphemia

[deliriosdenadie]

[sputniksflight]

St. Marked One

An old idea from waaay before HoC, but this sort of happens in HoC, when one thinks about it, which pleases me :3

[momosammy]

the van Allen belt's D

[sxnguinesxnctum]

twirls a glass of wine and sighs as he gulps it all in one go, keeping eye contact with the creature in the window, its thousand eyes staring back.

It's one of those nights. One of those long, long nights.

[onlyhurtforaminute]

KIRA-ONE GRAM OF YOUR SOUL

[cemetegee]

Ianthe is The Underling

One thing that's very interesting about Ianthe Tridentarius - because it seems absolutely contrary to her character - is the fact, that she is very obliged to higher authorities.

That's even a thing Ianthe and Harrow talk about. Harrow asks her if she'd never think to herself "When did the princess of Ida become this groveling slime." (The answer is btw. that she has nearly always been this groveling slime). She answers that it's all cold calculation to survive.

But that's a lie. She shows that trust in authorities and that blind obedience even in situations, where she has absolutely no use (or even gets serious damage of it).

For example- Ianthe, why did you actually kill your cav? I mean, it seems like a terribly wrong thing to do, don't you think? This can't be right.

Oh, I understand. You did it, because... the Emperor said it was right.

You know, what I mean with blind obedience, don't you?

It's very likely a result of her daddy (or, maybe more exactly, parental) issues, but it's still despite of that interesting. Because it shows her insultings of the Emperor (maybe also her mockery about her parents in a different light.

When you serve someone, and that someone does bad/not nice things to you, and you can't tell that immediatly to that person, you start to wear a groveling hate around with you. That's where Ianthe's blasphemia comes from. Not coolness or atheism. But obedience.

[albumarchives]

Ancient Rites | Blasphemia Eternal (1996)

[deepfloyd]

Eliran Kantor

'Blasphemia', 2018

[symmetricalscar]

Demoncy - Diabolica Blasphemiae

[yukirayu]

Lyrics: “Denshō no Uta -Verum-”

While the opening theme of the VN got an English translation, the same couldn’t be said for its good ending theme, “Verum”. 

As such, I tried to see what the lyrics could possibly mean by getting both the Latin and the Japanese lyrics from the soundtrack booklet and crossreferencing the translations of the lyrics in both languages. 

So know that this is just an edited MTL of the lyrics. Take the (attempt at a) translation with a grain of salt. Still, I hope you enjoy knowing how you can possibly read the lyrics and what the song intended to convey, since Lamento has one of the best soundtracks I’ve ever heard in a visual novel. 

......

“Denshō no Uta -Verum-” “伝承の詩 -Verum-” (Note: The word verum is Latin for “truth”.)

Performed by: Kanako Itou

Lyrics

Let me tell you something important now: the truth is hidden Dicam rem gravem, nunc: veritas est celata 螺旋 翔け昇り 届け･言葉･想い

It continues to exist, unravaged by the flow of time sed tempus eam possit perdere et violare が、時の流れに決して揺るがず、在り続けるのだ

He stood in the midst of disaster, death, defamation, and damnation In calamitate, morte, fama, in maledictio, erat ibi hic 災害、死、噂、呪いの渦中に、彼は佇んでいた

In ruthlessness, conflict and darkness, he stood as an evil omen In misericorde, bello, tenebris, ut ipsus malus stabat hic 非情､争い、闇、その中で禍々しさの象徴として彼は立っていた

In blasphemy and impiety, there he stood as a form that inspired fear In blasphemia, impietate, in terribli forma est hic 冒涜、邪悪の中、恐ろしい姿で、彼はそこにいた

The screams resounded from the void, “Is that form real? Is it not an illusion? Is it real or not?” In clamore, vanitate: Estne vera forma, non vera? Non vera? 叫び、空虚の中:真実の姿なのか? 真実ではないのか? 真実では･･･ない?

Open your eyes, open your eyes and behold! Oculos tuos aperite occulusos, ecce! ごらん! 閉じた瞼あけて

He brought a red flower to an ashen world Rubem florem in canam terram tulit 灰色の世界に、彼は赤い花をもたらした

Hope, that is our only hope Spes, ea spes, sola 希望・・・それは唯一の希望

I’ll share with you the memories and truth of a distant past Memoriam antiquam et veritatem te donam 遠い記憶 そして真理を君に贈ろう

The truth is hidden from sight, but it remains there for eternity Veritas invisibilis est, sed manet, manet in perpetua 真実は見えない しかし失われず 永遠に留まるのだ

Days of peace, laughter and tranquility, of life, fertility and joy Diem pacis, risum, placidem... Vitam, fructum, felicem… 平和な日々、笑い、穏やかさ… 人生、 実り、幸福・・・

Of benevolence and order, of unity, virtue and light Bonitatem, ordinem... Consensum, asquum, lucem… 充足、秩序･･･心の一致、正しきこと 光・・・

Everyone desired them all, and his wounds pained and ached Omnis eos petunt, ergo hujus dolebat vulnus 誰もが、それらを求め 彼の傷は痛んでいた

Quietly, yet certainly Quiete, sed certe 静かに、しかし確実に・・・ 

Does he seek love? Or does he not seek love? Vultne amorem, vel non vult? Vel non vult? O! 彼は愛を求めていたか? あるいは求めていなかったか? ・・･求めていなかった?

My heart and thoughts reach beyond the boundaries of time Trans finem temporis, cor mei, vola 届け 僕の想い 悠久を越えて

He breathes life into the earth In terram hic donat spiritum 彼は大地に息吹を贈る

This is something that I, and only I know Solus ego, solus ego id scio 僕だけが僕だけがそれを知っている

He stood in the midst of damnation In maledictio, erat ibi hic 呪いの渦中に、彼は佇んでいた

He stood as an evil omen Ut ipsus malus stabat hic 禍々しさの象徴として彼は立っていた

He stood as a form that inspired fear In terribli forma est hic 恐ろしい姿で、彼はそこにいた

Is that form real or an illusion? Estne vera, non vera? 真実なのか?真実ではないのか?

Does he seek love or not? Vultne amorem, vel non vult? 彼は愛を求めていたか? あるいは求めていなかったか?

Does anyone know the answer? Quisne id scit? 誰が知っているというのか?

Open your eyes, open your eyes and behold! Oculos tuos aperite occulusos, ecce! ごらん! 閉じた瞼あけて

He brought a red flower to an ashen world Rubem florem in canam terram tulit 灰色の世界に、彼は赤い花をもたらした

Hope, that is our hope Spes, ea spes 希望・・・それは希望

My heart and thoughts reach beyond the boundaries of time Trans finem temporis, cor mei, vola 届け 僕の想い 悠久を越えて

He breathes life into the earth In terram hic donat spiritum 彼は大地に息吹を贈る

This is something that I, and only I know Solus ego, solus ego id scio 僕だけが僕だけがそれを知っている

[cyclist-of-guilt]

Sorry but follow up because we got tie

[brotherbeastus]

DEMONCY ‘CONSUMMATUM EST’ from “DIABOLICA BLASPHEMIAE” 2023 2 mins 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐

[momosammy]

aunt anunciada,merry christmas!

🌰　🎅

🎂

[sxnguinesxnctum]

Laurence steps carefully inside the burning building, the smell of ashes and blood being almost welcome, compared to the one of rot and gunpowder coming from outside the Cathedral, in the Nightmare he learned to know, that twisted Yharnam that keeps showing itself to him more and more frequently whenever he closes his eyes.

Once again, his eyes fall on the giant Beast at the apse, slouched against a broken statue. Every night, he wonders if that will be the one time the Beast moves, speaks, tries anything; every night, so far, he woke up unsure if he was relieved or disappointed it didn't.

"What are you?"

Once again, the Vicar sits. He should be tense. He used to be tense. Maybe it's the fact that he fully realized that things didn't truly change, in that Nightmare, that makes him calm despit ethe terrifying scene in front of him: the Hunters outside kill Beasts, the Cathedral is eternally on fire, the creature in front of him doesn't move no matter how hard he tries, and he'll leave that place to return to the waking world only when his body awakens, be it because of the sunlight entering the windows of his room, or for much less peaceful reasons. Even that thing, that once seemed so terrifying, now became routine.

Just a particularly big Beast, yet one that still holds his full attention.

"Answer me."

A plead for a change.

"Answer me!"

An order for an answer.

"Answe--"

A gasp, when the Beast looks back.

A scream, as the Beast screams back, the heat increases, it stands, IT STANDS. Laurence attempts to do the same, just to stumble on his own mantle, ending on his back with a loud thud and finding the creature's snout over his before he could fully understand what was happening, finding himself under it as it crouches over him. Holding his breath, the Vicar stares at it, suddenly frozen in place despite the unbearable heat, and the stench from the decomposing corpse in front of him.

why did he never notice it?

The Beast moves closer, and the Vicar tenses up. It presses its nose against his chest, at stomach height. He barely has the time to notice that it's not violent, it's not hungry - that something, in the back of his head, suggests it's sad, devastated...

and it opens its maw.

"No-!"

It's a slow procedure. It doesn't bite him whole, nor rips him apart in one swing. Fangs tear through his skin and muscles with the precision of a surgeon, dig inside him not like an hungry animal, but like a thirsty person careful to not drink too fast, yet undeniably satisfied with each lick, each new, small bite, completely uncaring of the screams of agony coming from the source of that blood, that meat, fresh, delicious, a delicacy in that rotten town. The Vicar arches his back, and yells, yells, louder and louder, his hands gripping onto anything, trying to push away the creature who instead gently moves deeper inside, as if it was looking for his heart, and he cries, he cries, desperate, painful, wishing for it to find it, to fucking find it already, and put an end to that agony, to the stench, to the burning, TO THAT NIGHTMARE.

MAKE IT STOP.

MAKE IT STOP!

OEDON, PLEASE, MAKE IT STOP ALREADY--

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Laurence awakens with a scream, coated in sweat. He lifts himself from the pillows, wide eyes staring at the ceiling of his room, the stench of blood and rot and burnt meat still deep inside his nose, the same taste in his dry mouth. A hand clasps his lips a second too late to keep down the bile, and as he throws up he finds himself coughing, crying in agony - not the same as before, but as terrified and tense as he is it might as well be.

His Hunters come soon after, their own hands already drawing their blades, and then rushing to their Vicar's side, helping him stand and then sit far away from his own vomit, searching through his and their own belongings to find something to cover his scorching body and clean him as much as they could, and open the windows to let the dawn breeze inside. One more step back, offering to look for help or at least leave him space, just to stop once his own fingers, surprisingly strong considering his current state, grasp at his wrists.

"Don't leave...!"

That same wrist is moved closer, rested against his own forehead, as his free hand finds the Hunter's palm, holding it as if his life depended on it.

"I beg of you-- all of you. F-- forgive this weakness--

Don't leave...!"

Not until he's certain he's truly awake.

[theheartofthestar]

Blasphemia by Eliran Kantor