#i have no faith and i must exorcise

[average-hyperfixator]

Can anybody hear me

PLEASE CAN ANYBODY HEAR ME

PLEASE……

The brainworms have taken over, it’s all over chat

I’m begging can anyone else see the vision

Close ups on images I particularly like

[priest-ted]

Father Ted, shall i get on my knees to properly bask in your glory? ;)

(i am so so sorry my first thought was to flirt with the man,, also hello chat this is NOT my fault for the record LEAVE ME ALONEE)

I am a MAN OF GOD!! I would never allow false idolization and worship! Especially of myself!! And my CELIBACY VOWS!!! I could never violate them!!

…I suppose I appreciate the sentiment but please. Don’t.

(Ooc; Bestie you could’ve done this on anon, I’m just saying 😭, i wasn’t holding you at gunpoint to send this in off anon you have EXPOSED YOURSELF!!)

[livelaughlovesubs]

Incubus fyodor 1

Dom!priest!reader x sub!incubus!fyodor

Warning: pegging, CNC, against a wall, in a church lol, also taking virginity??

Sometimes I use strap, most of the time dick or whatever. Then anyone can feel included? Idk?

This was requested by 🍮 anon, like a loooong time ago. Gonna repost it now :> (was too lazy to do so but now that you are back-)

Fyodor was just wandering around, looking for his next victim. It was boring to keep staying at one place, he always craved something grandiose and better. One day he ended up at a church after going around town, he detested those places due to his nature. But then he saw you through the windows, a diligent priest working for god. Proud, hard working and kind. What a sight, you must have never known the pleasures of the flesh. Oh how he pitied you, guess he will just ‘enlighten’ you then~

The incubus was wandering inside the building, looking everywhere for you. Until he found you in the chancel, the sacred place. Perfect, let's see how sacred it will be after he defies god’s little helper. Protecting one’s innocence? How laughable.

Fyodor walked inside, wrapping his hands around you and holding you from behind. Hands running all over your torso, grinning in delight as he said, “come on, let's have a little fun~ I can fulfil all your fantasies...” before he could even react to it, you took hold of his hands, turning around and twisting them in the process. “aAHH-”he yelped, falling backwards and taking a few steps back, his body hitting the wall. Your hand pinning his wrists over his head, knee pressed against the wall in between his legs. He felt you apply pressure to his crotch.

The boy gritted his teeth, showing his fangs. "Are you a demon?" You asked nonchalantly, while he struggled against your strength. Fuck, why were you so strong? “Yea and? What, gonna exorcise me? Haha.” “An incubi probably, by the way you were touching me.” You came to that conclusion, not an ounce of emotion present in your voice.

Continuing on as if you didn't hear him, thinking for a second. “I suppose you wanted to feast on me?” He stared at you with a skeptical look, why did you seem so interested? Before he got the chance to ask you, you commented, “I'm sorry that you were born this way, having to rely on such sinful acts to survive.. what a pitiful being.” “What, oh no you are the pitiful thing here, I bet you don't know what pleasure is, all because of some prideful faith. Want me to teach you?” Fyodor said cheekily, grinning as he looked up at you, his knees bend slightly due to the position.

“Don't get me wrong, I don't detest your kind. God has taught us to accept anyone. In fact, i’d be willing to help you, so that you don't need to bother other innocent souls. It's the duty of a priest.” He didn't understand what you were hinting at, for him you were talking garbage. “You aren’t going to seal me or anything?” The demon was genuinely confused, you want to help him? Why? “No need to fear anything, I'm sure you have experience in this field after all.” Next thing he knew you turned him around, his back arching like a crescent moon. “What are you…” suddenly you pulled his pants down, exposing his plum butt. “Huh?! wha-" poor him, that incubus was super confused now, this can't be what he thinks it is right?

Seems like his worries came true, it was what he feared, he knew when he felt your tip press against him. “Hu-huh? Wait a second..! I-I thought you were...” “I've learned many ways to deal with succubus or incubus, don't worry I'm quite experienced too.” Then you entered him, yearning a surprised moan from the male. “Ahh..!” Fingers desperately gripping the wall, looking for anything he can clench onto, eyes looking back and trying to understand the situation. He was getting… topped? By a priest nonetheless??

Him? Up until now he has only ever been on top. What experience, this is his first! Fyodor felt another push from you, the strap slowly driving into him. “You are so tight... ah, what's your name?” “Why do you care, pull it out!” “I'm sorry, I can't do that.” “Why?!” “Because I have to subdue you first, to make you submit.” Your voice was serious as you said that, pushing more of your dick inside him. “UgHh! Slo-slow down...gentle, gentle! Ah, hu-hurts..” the boy whined now, crying softly as his dick twitched in excitement. “Oh? It is your first? Maybe you aren’t as dirty as I thought.” Still using the same emotionless voice as before, you kept unintentionally leave snarky remarks behind. All while your free hand collected the slick around his rim, covering the toy with it.

“So wet already, more than many others of your kind.” Were you mocking him? He wanted to insult you, if only the dick wasn't making his mind go blank. “Ahh...you, I won't-mhm! Fo-forgive you.” “I don't need your forgiveness, only gods.” You said, before starting to move and trust into him. Then you explained, “in order to excuse this sin I had to commit due to your existence, we will have to work hard to beg for forgiveness.” “AhHh! Ah-aHh.ah. Oh-uhh..uhm! Nghh..!” Each trust was paired with whimpers or a moan. Cute squeaking sounds escaped him, face and shoulders flushed red and figure covered in sweat now. His filthy fluids were running down those slim and shaky legs, eyes rolling into the back of his head. What was he doing, didn't he plan on fucking you at first? So how was he getting dicked down now. It was still too hard to comprehend. Yet it felt so good.. it was melting his brain, he has never felt anything this amazing before.

“Such inappropriate noises you are letting out, i guess you are enjoying yourself?” The hand which you used to collect his slick was now on his hips, holding him in place since he kept trying to wriggle his way out, trying to escape those blissful sensations. “Ah..wait..ah-Uhm! This is..no-no good..stop aHh!” He whispered, shortly after tears started rolling down his blushing face. You only picked up your pace, going faster and rutting into him roughly, sometimes you'd brush against his prostate which made him cry out even more. “Ah-aAhhH! OOHh! I'm c-close.. m’gonna cu-cum.” Fyodor breathed out, his entire being quivering in pleasure. This was heaven. Don’t get him wrong, he knew nothing of heaven but this is how he'd imagine paradise to be like. He was filled with pure ecstasy, it was damn addicting and he doesn't think he will ever get over it.

“You have to beg for forgiveness, and to excuse your pathetic self.” You whispered into his ear. Like a spell he couldn’t disobey, he immediately began pleading with.. whom? God? You? Ugh.. to think he had come this low. “AhhHhAA!! ohHh! For-forgive meHHnghh~..!!” His release came in torrents, coursing through his veins and making his legs go weak. He felt so helpless, so exposed and vulnerable with you. And it was the best feeling he has ever experienced, never in his life did he knew something like this was possible. Those noises were filled with desire and longing, loud and clear as he painted the wall white, “aAhHahhhH~!” A shudder ran down his spine, hole clenching down onto you.

The slick was all the way down to his knees now, and he was still lost in subspace. Guess the climax was pretty intense, rendering him to such a whiny mess. You weren't sure if he could understand you, but you tried it anyway. “So, may I inquire the name of you pitiful thing?” There were no answers, only breathy whines and pants. Eventually he gasped out his name meekly, mumbling, “fyo-fyodor…” After blinking a few times, you leaned down to his ear and uttered in a seductive, as well as sadistic voice. This was the first time he heard your tone change. “I'm going to keep you here, so that you wont cause troubles for others. You don’t mind being my pet fyodor, isn’t that right?” And you let go of him after finishing your sentence. Hands leaving his body. Ahh..another shiver travelled down to his core, how could he ever refuse such an enticing offer? Without your help, his legs finally betrayed his body as he crashed down onto the ground. Sitting there looking all ravaged while a sticky white puddle formed beneath him. Fyodor looked at you over his shoulder while panting heavily, tongue hanging out from his blushing face like a dumb little pet.

Part two

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Gary and John head cannons x an overly chill high ranking demon lord.

Garry doesn't know how he summoned the reader, but is instantly feeling "on a scale from one to ten, my friend, you're fucked!"

The reader is of a drastically higher rank in hell, and the only reason why they were summoned was cause "why not?"

Gary cannot bring himself to boss around the reader cause he thinks he'll get killed, or worse, turned into the reader's personal play thing, but na. Reader was bored, and likes giving demons of lesser power severe anxiety.

When reader meets John, they're barely effected by the cross, and only slightly annoyed by the pain of the exorcism. Beyond telling him to scram, reader doesn't even attack. They're just glad to be out of hell, chilling.

Gary Miller

He was getting frustrated with John vanquishing so many demons

So he pulls out all the stops, sacrificing a thrall or two (or ten) to bring about a stronger demon to further weaken his faith.

However, Gary accidentally summons one who's a bit TOO powerful for the cult to contain: you, a demon overlord leagues above his rank.

"Astaroth, what a surprise. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Suddenly he feels like he made a huge mistake considering your reputation in Hell.

Your power easily surpassed his own, and he fears what you'd do if he explained why he called upon you..or found out that he never intended to do that at all.

The worst case scenario? You killed him and decide to rule the EOSD as your own cult.

An even worse scenario? He became your "pet" and you force him to watch you take over his mission.

Either one is horrible, so he tries making up an excuse to justify the ritual.

"Your Wickedness, there is a man..a holy man who stands in the way of our great plan. His faith is in shambles, but he is persistent and-"

"So you thought wasting my time was the best course of action?" You huff, tapping your foot. "Huh, and I was starting to like you, too...but now you just sound pitiful and desperate. You couldn't kill this one man yourself?"

He kneels, hands raised to you in a show of complete submission, completely terrified. "No, we can easily handle him, I...I just thought you would like to partake in the Profane Sabbath after we DO kill him and-"

"Woah, slow down there, Azzy...no need to look so petrified." You laugh gently, which confuses him. "Not many have been able to replicate my summoning ritual as well as you did...so well done. I needed the vacation from Hell, anyways. Now rise."

He gets up, wondering why you did a total 180.....until he remembers you just got power-trips from time to time.

You always liked to playfully threaten lesser demons out of pure boredom, but never actually acted on those threats.

So to realize you fooled him, too, left Gary extremely humbled.

Still, he's willing to whatever you say and he won't give you orders.

And he sure as hell will make sure no cult member tries bossing you around (even though you won't kill any of them).

John Ward

You showed up one night while he's wandering the forest, reminiscing over his failures to save Amy and what he could have done differently that night....

And you put the fear of fucking satan into this poor man just by standing near a tree, not even doing anything.

Even so, he freaks out upon recognizing you as a demonic overlord, holding up his cross with two shaking hands.

He didn't know why the lord was testing him so much..he had absolutely 0 strength to combat a demon of your status. But still, he tries exorcising you.

"Father, you should know that it only feels like a small itch to me."

"....wh-what?"

"Yes, we'll be here all day if you keep doing that-"

"Then I will stand here all day if I must!" He shouts despite the tremble in his voice, refusing to put down that silly stick as if it's gonna suddenly become golden again.

But it's still copper, barely inflicting any pain on you.

'And Astaroth says this is the man who's disrupting his mission?'

"I will not surrender. My faith is not weak!"

"You're right, it's not. But my tough skin cannot be easily penetrated by exorcisms. If anything, you're only annoying me more. So it would be wise to stop doing that."

Surprisingly, John listens after careful consideration, exhausted and almost in tears. He thought you were going to kill him or punish him for trying something as stupid as challenging an overlord.

Maybe you were sent to him as punishment for-

"All I ask of you, John Ward, is that you leave me be. I was just admiring the Earth's forests." You pat a tree trunk. "I suppose God did a few things right. Hate to see these beauties wither away into nothingness.."

Although he's shellshocked that you, a demon, would spare his life, he's quick to scurry back to his sedan.

He hasn't seen you since, and he thanks whoever intervened from above that he got away from you.

[apoloadonisandnarcissus]

After having broke the code on the possession theme of “Nosferatu” (2024), one thing is certain: Orlok had no intention of killing Thomas if Ellen didn’t summoned him on the third night. And he would allow himself to get killed by the vampire hunters.

Orlok can’t possess Ellen because he doesn’t have any control over her soul, he does, however, have influence over Thomas, because he fed on him (on his soul), and while he was exorcised, he isn’t free of his influence. The “possession scene” is Orlok possessing Thomas, not Ellen.

In this scene, Orlok is talking to Thomas in his sleep, not to Ellen (she can hear him, because of her supernatural gifts): "More blood shall stain thy hands, another night has passed. Tomorrow night, the third, shall be his last", and this parallels what he did the first night Thomas arrived ("Your bond shall not survive me"), and Thomas kicks Ellen out of the bed because he “can’t breathe”. Orlok is not talking about himself, he’s placing intentions inside of Thomas’ head like the sorcerer he is ("I have use in him", as he says to Herr Knock). We saw him placing intentions on nature (Solomonari weathermaker or Dacian cloud traveler), and now he's doing the same with Thomas.

"Bond/"Bound" has been used throughout the film in connection to Orlok and Ellen (their wicked marriage OST is also called "Bound") = "He is bound for Wisburg!"; "your passion is bound to me"; "Her dark bond with the beast shall redeem us all."

Thomas is fully convinced he was the one who unleashed Orlok and everything that has happened is his fault because he sold him a house in Wisburg. That’s why he doesn’t listen to Ellen when she says she was the one who unleashed Orlok. His “blood plague” delirium is about unbearable guilt, as he asks both Ellen and Friedrich Harding for forgiveness. He’s now on a vendetta mission against Orlok, and wants to drive a spike of cold iron through him as revenge (like he saw it done in Transylvania, bringing this whole story full circle). He wants to avenge Ellen, the Hardings and himself. Here is your “vengeance” in the ending.

Orlok is influencing Thomas into killing him; which is why Thomas feels Orlok’s grasp on him that evening ("I feel his hold upon me this night") and he won’t wait until morning to destroy Orlok ("No. I will not wait ‘til morning! We must stop him now."). That’s why Ellen says to Thomas Orlok doesn’t have power over him, trying to “counter attack” what Orlok is influencing him to do ("He does not have power over you, Thomas. I place my utter faith in you. I love you."). Ellen is an enchantress herself, she can control reality by the power of her word (and this power can’t merely be present at the prologue when she resurrects and curses Orlok).

I already knew Orlok wanted Ellen to be confronted with his own destruction when I analyzed Thomas and the Handsome Roma vampire hunter, but the possession theme at play here only further confirms this.

Orlok says to Ellen: "Upon the third night you will submit, or he call your husband shall perish by my hand." Only Thomas isn't her husband anymore because he signed the covenant papers and received payment for her dowery (sack of gold). Their marriage was annulled in both the physical (“divorce papers”) and the spiritual (Sex Magick divorce ritual) worlds. Unaware of this fact, Thomas promised Ellen to Orlok ("you are promised to me"): "Your husband has signed his name, and covenanted you to my person for but a sack of gold. For gold he did absolve his nuptial bond. And the resignation must be completed by you, freely of thine own will." “Resignation” as in Ellen has to accept ("submit") Orlok of her own will. Until then, she has no husband, she's divorced. "Call" in 16th century English is connected with "summon" or "invitation": "or your summoned husband shall perish by my hand". He's talking about himself because Ellen is the one who "summoned" him, resurrected him, and cursed him. She's also the reincarnation of his wife.

Before Ellen summons him, and as the vampire hunters are arriving at the manor, Orlok is just standing in front of his sarcophagus, at the chapel. He even has his back against the door. He only turns when Ellen calls him. This is not a fighting posture, he’s fully prepared to embrace his destruction. Alongside with the highly symbolic moonlight coming from the rose window, waiting for redemption (you have to analyze the set design, too, this is a very cinematic story where visual storytelling is more important than dialogue).

Robert Eggers himself said his Orlok’s whole motivation is Ellen, and the “Wuthering Heights” inspired love triangle was more appealing to him than any other theme. His Orlok doesn’t care about world domination, nor spreading his plague nor collecting random souls. He takes no joy in doing what he does either, he just doesn’t sugar-coats it (that’s why he says “I’m an appetite, nothing more” when Ellen accuses him of being a villain, evil). He’s a monster, he is what he is, because she cursed him (“you are my affliction”). All he cares about is his covenant of being “one ever-eternally” with Ellen ("I should have been the Prince of Rats – immortal… but he broke our covenant… for he cares only for his pretty bride."). Her soul is the only thing he wants. If she rejected him, and didn’t broke his curse, there was no point in him existing anymore.

[queereads-bracket]

Queer Fiction Free-for-All Book Bracket Tournament: Round 1C

Book summaries and submitted endorsements below:

Moby-Dick or, The Whale by Herman Melville

Endorsement from submitter:

Ishmael & Quee(r)queg do it better than your OTP ever could. "[W]hat's all this fuss I have been making about, thought I to myself—the man's a human being just as I am: he has just as much reason to fear me as I have to be afraid of him. Better sleep with a sober cannibal than a drunken Christian" “ How it is I know not; but there is no place like a bed for confidential disclosures between friends. Man and wife, they say, there open the very bottom of their souls to each other; and some old couples often lie and chat over old times till nearly morning. Thus, then, in our hearts’ honeymoon, lay I and Queequeg—a cosy, loving pair.” “ At length, by dint of much wriggling, and loud and incessant expostulations upon the unbecomingness of his hugging a fellow male in that matrimonial sort of style, I succeeded in extracting a grunt; and presently, he drew back his arm, shook himself all over like a Newfoundland dog just from the water, and sat up in bed, stiff as a pike-staff, looking at me, and rubbing his eyes as if he did not altogether remember how I came to be there, though a dim consciousness of knowing something about me seemed slowly dawning over him. Meanwhile, I lay quietly eyeing him, having no serious misgivings now, and bent upon narrowly observing so curious a creature.” “ I drew my bench near him, and made some friendly signs and hints, doing my best to talk with him meanwhile. At first he little noticed these advances; but presently, upon my referring to his last night’s hospitalities, he made out to ask me whether we were again to be bedfellows. I told him yes; whereat I thought he looked pleased, perhaps a little complimented.” Plus, the entirety of “A Squeeze of the Hand” Insane work.

"It is the horrible texture of a fabric that should be woven of ships' cables and hawsers. A Polar wind blows through it, and birds of prey hover over it." So Melville wrote of his masterpiece, one of the greatest works of imagination in literary history. In part, Moby-Dick is the story of an eerily compelling madman pursuing an unholy war against a creature as vast and dangerous and unknowable as the sea itself. But more than just a novel of adventure, more than an encyclopaedia of whaling lore and legend, the book can be seen as part of its author's lifelong meditation on America. Written with wonderfully redemptive humour, Moby-Dick is also a profound inquiry into character, faith, and the nature of perception.

Classics, American literature, nautical fiction, adult

The Fall That Saved Us by Tamara Jerée

Endorsement from submitter: "Angels and demons love story."

Cassiel has given up the family tradition of demon hunting, leaving behind her sacred angelic duty and fated sword. What she can’t leave behind are the scars. To cope, she spends her days immersed in work, pouring all her attention into New Haven Books, her small bookstore and anchor in the new world she’s carved for herself.

But the past hasn’t let go of Cassiel yet. When a succubus named Avitue arrives to claim her angel-touched soul, Cassiel’s old hunter instincts flare, forcing her to choose between old knowledge and her truth. What should be a fatal seduction becomes a bargain neither woman expects. As they grow closer, Avitue is surprised to find her own pain reflected in Cassiel, a nephilim deemed fallen by her own family’s standards.

By choosing trust, they reveal the lies that bind them. Falling for each other begins a path towards healing. But exorcising the effects of trauma is harder than naming it, and to explore the unfettered possibility Avitue represents, Cassiel must find a way to reclaim and redefine her angelic heritage.

Romance, fantasy, urban fantasy, religious/familial trauma, adult

[magnificentmaleficent]

ʙʟᴀꜱᴘʜᴇᴍᴏᴜꜱ | ᴅʀ. ᴢᴀɪᴜꜱ x ꜰ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ [II]

𝚃𝚒𝚝𝚕𝚎: Blasphemous 𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: Dr. Zaius x F! Reader 𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: Stranded on a world ruled by evolved apes, you are the anomaly- a human that defies the natural order and no one in Ape city resents your existence more than Dr. Zaius, the rigid and unyielding minister of science and chief defender of the faith. Who, more determined than ever, wants to keep his world safe from humankind- your kind. But... Is it normal to be so consumed by your enemy's presence? Why can't he keep you out of his thoughts? 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: Zaius observes her from the shadows, struggling with the storm she had unleshed within him. You were dangerous-- not just because you were human, but because you were something he couldn't ignore. "This is my duty" Zaius told himself, "It is caution". But he knew the truth was far worse. 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: [I] [II] [III] ᶜʰᵃᵖᵗᵉʳ'ˢ ˢᵒⁿᵍ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵐᵉⁿᵈᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ

★゜・。。・゜゜☆゜・。。・゜★

CHAPTER II: ᴛʜᴇ ꜰʀᴀᴄᴛᴜʀᴇᴅ ᴅᴏᴄᴛʀɪɴᴇ

Zaius’ POV

Zaius had spent his life keeping the faith, the truth: science.

Or so he believed.

He sat in his chambers long after the human woman had left, her words still haunting the space between the flickering candlelight. She was a disruption, a contradiction, a living challenge to the very foundation of his beliefs. And yet, every time she spoke, every time she met his gaze with that unyielding fire, he found himself shaken.

She should be dead. That would have been the simplest path, the safest course. For the prosperity of apekind. And yet, he had hesitated. Again and again.

Was it arrogance that kept him engaged in these arguments? “That must be it.” He thought. "It's my duty to be cautious"

“Doctor?” Cornelius' voice interrupted his thoughts.The younger chimpanzee stood at the door, hesitant to approach. “Is something troubling you?”

Zaius exhaled, rubbing his chin. “More than you know.”

Cornelius studied him. “Is this about her?”

Zaius' jaw tightened. “She is forcing me to remember things I have spent my life trying to prevent and forget.”

A long tense pause made the air in the room thicken. Cornelius simply nodded. “I understand. But I must say that, whatever it is about her that is troubling you… I think you already have your answer.” After excusing himself, the archeologist left the room in search of his mate, leaving the good doctor with his thoughts. Alone again, the orangutan closed his eyes, leaning his head on his interlocked hands.

He had spent his life believing he understood the world. There were laws—natural, moral, and sacred—that governed all things, and he had upheld them with unwavering conviction. A truth, a burden only he carried for the good of his kind. But then, she arrived, and everything in him had begun to unravel.

Zaius sat in his chambers, alone, the candlelight casting long shadows against the walls. The silence was deafening, yet his mind was anything but quiet. The image of her had rooted itself deep within him, refusing to be exorcised no matter how fiercely he fought against it.

You. The human. The anomaly.

The mistake.

And yet…

His fingers curled into the fabric of his robes as he exhaled sharply, willing himself to focus, to analyze, to rationalize. She was nothing more than a remnant of a species that had long sealed its fate. Her existence was a fluke, an aberration that should have meant nothing. Yet she unsettled him in ways he could not explain.

Zaius had prided himself all his life on his discipline, on the lawgiver's word. He was a leader, a scholar, a protector of ape society, it's values and sacred truths. He had buried his own personal sufferings beneath duty and conviction. He had not once wavered.

Until now.

For the first time, he was beginning to entertain ideas only young, idealistic apes had. Coexistence between humans and apes—

“No” He admonished himself. “That’s blasphemy! Just a foolish notion.” He had always worked hard to ensure apekind did not committ the same mistakes that had dethroned humans, and now here he was, doubting his whole life just because a human female had shown to be able to keep up with him. She was still human, and humans always brought suffering and destruction.

He had watched her. Had seen the way she carried herself—proud, defiant, intelligent.

There was something unnerving about how she moved through Ape City, a place that should have crushed her spirit, and yet, she stood tall. She did not cower. She did not break.

And worst of all, others had noticed it too.

Zira and Cornelius, always too eager to embrace change, had welcomed her. The council murmured about her. The younger apes looked upon her with curiosity rather than fear. And he—

He clenched his jaw, seething with something unspoken, something that had no place within him.

Jealousy.

But of what? Of who? She was human. She was insignificant. And yet, the way they looked at her, the way she smiled at them, at anyone who wasn’t him—

He stood abruptly, pacing the room like a caged animal. His thoughts spiraled, each one pulling him deeper into a storm of confusion and frustration.

Why did she linger in his thoughts?

Why did he feel this restless energy when he saw her speaking with others?

Why did he care?

He tried to rationalize it. She was a threat, of course. That was it. She was living proof of humanity’s flaws and mistakes, a reminder of the horror that had once plagued the world. That had to be the reason for this unease. That had to be why he watched her so intently, why he found himself drawn to every interaction she had.

It was not because of her.

It could not be.

His fists trembled at his sides, his breath uneven. He pressed a hand against the desk, steadying himself. He was a leader. An esteemed member of the council. He was not some foolish, undisciplined youth swayed by the novelty of something different. He would not allow himself to become undone by this.

And yet, his mind went back to that moment he had compared her to the previous human that shocked apekind… How her eyes flashed with recognition at the name… Zaius felt his gut twist. The thought of her speaking to Taylor, of having known him, of sharing a past that he could never understand—

He scowled, shoving the thought aside.

She was human. And humans were dangerous. That was the only truth that mattered. He reminded himself of the saying that General Ursus swore by.

“The only good human is a dead one.”

He repeated it in his mind, over and over, as if saying it enough times would make the strange, unwanted emotions dissipate. But as the candle burned low, as the night stretched on, he knew the battle was far from over.

He stormed out of his office, walking in a brisk pace towards Zira’s study, knowing the doctor most probably was with the human or at least knew where she was. As the soft light from an ajar door bleed into the dark hallway, the doctor heard her.

Your voice, in a tone so unfamiliar to his ears that for a moment he thought must have belonged to someone else. He approached the door, silent and cautious. His golden eyes drifted inside the chimpanzee’s office, looking for you. 

Zaius had never considered himself an envious creature. Yet, as he stood outside Zira’s study, watching how at ease you were chatting with his best scientist and her husband, the warm light effortlessly illuminating your features, the warmth in your eyes, the soft smile in your lips… 

Something bitter coiled in his chest.

His ears perked as the air carried your light voice, listening intently into the conversation unfolding with bated breath when he recognised who it was about.

“He was the most stubborn man I’d ever met,” Your voice carried through the wooden door, tinged with warm fond exasperation. “But he never gave up. Taylor fought for what he believed in and I admired that about him.”

Zira chuckled, looking at you fondly as Cornelius jokingly murmured. “Sounds familiar.”

Huffing softly you looked at them, serious although a smile remained in your face. “Don’t compare me to him. He was brash, reckless. I—” You hesitated, breathing softly, eyes downcasted as you admitted. “I miss him.”

Zaius’ hands were clenched so hard that his knuckles cracked but he paid no mind. Seething inside, the fur around his face blistering slightly.

Taylor was dead.

He was just a remnant of your doomed species. And yet, here you were, speaking of him as if he were still present, as if his absence had carved a hollow space within you. 

As if he mattered.

And for the first time in his life, Doctor Zaius feared that he was losing.

A/N: Have any request for PotA? Let me know!

[celestiaras]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ an exorcist’s edge ]❜

ft. meloco kyoran x f! reader — xsoleil, nijisanji en

╰₊✧ meloco failed to exorcise a succubus who thinks that she’s super cute & came to pay her a visit┊3.1k words

contains: smut!! dom reader & sub meloco┊dubcon & noncon kissing, succubus reader, pet names (reader calls meloco “little” to diminish her but she is an adult), aphrodisiac/truth serum kiss (??), reader is a little shit with a tongue piercing, hate sex, an attempt at dirty talk & degradation (with a little slut-shaming), nipple play, face-sitting, 69 position, receiving & giving oral, fingering, reader doesn’t cum :(, slight possessive behavior from the reader, no aftercare

➤ author's note: meloco kyoran from nijisanji en seventh’s wave of xsoleil is beautiful, breath-taking, charming, elegant, gorgeous, wifey material, someone that i need to write for more and you should too because look at her, i can’t be the only melove on nijisanji x reader tumblr (i’m actually pretty proud of how this came out, it might be one of my fav works so far)

the kyoran family is pretty infamous among ghosts and demons alike for possessing a lineage of the most prestigious exorcists in japan since the ancient times, being one of the first humans to master fighting the supernatural and training the generations after them to carry their craft. just uttering the names of the more prominent members is enough to strike fear in the hearts of some, which really makes them the equivalent of the boogeyman in their world. hell, even when you were younger, you were always taught to stay away since going onto their lands to do so much as catch a glimpse of them was a death wish much less being curious enough to want interaction with them.

of course, that was when you were a little one, but now you’ve claimed the ranks to become one of the strongest succubi in the underworld. they would need to rally the entire family tree all over the country to even attempt a hit at you, so you come and go as you please. you’re always hiding among the tree branches or on the building roofs all over their property, having fun just pulling the strings to play petty pranks on them in your free time when you aren’t busy bedding humans.

however, the very abilities that gave you the confidence to trespass on their lands would be the very ones that got you caught as they could obviously sense of your extremely powerful aura lurking behind the shadows. instead of calling some of the elders to deal with you, they decided to turn this situation into a learning opportunity and called out the eldest daughter of the new generation to banish you to the spirit realm— the very eldest daughter that you almost didn’t believe existed since she was always confined to the indoors and was never allowed to go outside in favor of her studies.

as expected, you could tell that she possessed the same talents that her ancestors vested in her when she came to confront you with her trusty umbrella, her pronunciation of the spells was perfect and she stood tall with her weapon in hand firmly. if you were any weaker than you were now, you would have been intimidated and tried to escape before she could strike you, but you knew better than to run away in the face of a novice like her.

so you put your charms to use, elegantly flying over to her to raise her chin with her finger to make her meet your eyes and giggled, “oh, how cute you are! did the kyoran family really send a little girl like you to come after me? someone with training and no real experience, they must have a lot of faith in you!”

with just a few words from your saccharine sweet lips and smooth velvet voice, she suddenly felt her resolve to weaken as doubt began to fill her. she’s trained her entire life for moments like these, but could she actually take down someone like you? her hands began to shake and she stuttered in her words, causing the entire ritual to fall flat as the force of the summoned winds made her fly against the wall and crash onto the floor. she could only helplessly watch you float higher in the air with your wings and blow her a flirtatious kiss goodbye before leaving the premises, also leaving her to face the consequences of her failure.

you weren’t even around to watch her get slapped by the head of the household and watch her run away to the road that brought her to xsoleil, you didn’t need to since you were the one who sent the ghost who directed her. admittedly, you felt a bit bad that it had to play out like this, but she needed to get away from that toxic environment since she would never be able to hone her skills or grow as a person if the way she was being raised continued. besides, a little tragic past never hurts anyone, now she has a backstory to tell her new friends!

and so she trained to get stronger, working hard to push herself at a healthy pace with the help of the student council. before she ran away, her biggest dreams were to simply please her family and become someone for them to be proud of, but now her final goal has been to track you down before finishing the job she started. she’s truly admirable in her pursuit to kill you, but you wanted to visit her one more time before the eventual epic showdown that’ll happen in a few years. you know, to bully her and further fuel her animosity for you so that she’ll have even more motivation to destroy you— some extra character development!!

you chose a time when the neighborhood was empty so that no one could hear her scream when you broke in through the bedroom window, but it looks like she took up streaming as a hobby so the place was completely sound-proofed anyway. it wasn’t exactly a quiet entrance, alerting her even with the music playing in her headphones as she chucked the textbook she was studying in your direction by instinct before jumping out her chair to face you. you effortlessly dodged it as if the heavy pages were nothing but leaves in the wind, walking towards her with the clicking of your stiletto heels enunciating your every step.

meloco seemed to be in a panic, her long hair swishing around with every turn of her head while looking for a weapon to fend you off with. her umbrella was tucked away in her closet along with her other belongings for exorcisms, but you were blocking the way. she tried to throw some other nearby objects at you, but you just waved them off with demon sorcery to turn them on her instead.

this continued for a few minutes before you got bored and flew toward her instead, knocking her onto her twin-sized bed and pinning her down into the mattress, “hello, little me-lo-co~! i heard you’ve been training to kill me, how’s that been going for you?” she tried to fight against your grip, but you tightened your grip into her shoulder with your sharp nails digging into her skin to indicate a threat. “what, you don’t like that i paid you a visit?”

“f-fuck off!” her lower lip quivered as she cursed you out, rendering her harsh words ineffective and just making her look even cuter as you stared intensely into the flames of her soul.

“oh my, don’t tell me…” even with your shadow covering her face, you noticed a pink tint dusting her face as she covered her mouth with the back of her hand. succubi and incubi have this unique ability to sense when a human feels emotions of love or lust for them, allowing them to target those who already have an attraction to them instead of wasting time by flirting. unless the power was suddenly malfunctioning and was incorrect for the first time in centuries, it looked like… “do you have a crush on me, melo-chan~?”

“n-no! i would never!” she kept her magenta eyes off-cast to the side so that she didn’t need to meet your gaze as you interrogated her, feeling flustered at your blunt call out. you must have hexed her with some dark magic before you left because her mind has been tainted and clouded with unholy thoughts ever since. she wanted you as much as she hated you, and now that you knew, you were going to torment her about it.

“you would never? we’ll see about that,” you pinched her lower cheeks to force her to look at you directly, digging your nails into her pale skin and leaning in to kiss her on the lips.

her eyes widened and she moved her hands to try and push you off of her, but the force never came as a strange tingling sensation spread throughout her body with you slipping your tongue into her mouth and allowing her to taste you and the titanium of your piercing. the tips of her fingers and toes felt numb as a raging fire of desire suddenly bloomed in her womb and dripped onto the fabric of her panties as heat rushed to her face, unsure of what you just did to her because it certainly wasn’t just an innocent peck, “w-what did you do to me?!”

“let’s try that again, shall we?” the obvious fright in her voice and dilated pupils were providing you with a lot of amusement, the confident eldest daughter of the kyoran family now as meek as a lamb trembling under you. “do you have a crush on me, melo-chan?”

the purple-haired girl’s mouth ran dry as she tried to force another insult out of her throat. like she couldn’t control her own words, the confession she would rather die than admit came to light, “i do…”

“what was that? i didn’t quite hear you~”

“i do!” she screamed against her will, covering her face with her hands in a poor attempt to hide herself from you. ‘crush’ isn’t exactly the right word to call her feelings for you, it makes it sound like a romance of schoolgirls who get shy just from holding hands. what she felt for you was more like an amalgamation of emotions that have yet to figure themselves out: hate, regret, and guilt mixed in with the poison of lust for her seductive enemy.

“you probably dreamt of this moment every night ever since we met, haven’t you? dreamt of me showing up before you were ready to fight to rip off your clothes and take advantage of you—

“i have! i have, i have, i have—” she shrieked as the top two buttons of her shirt were popped off the fabric with you tearing apart the material, exposing her breasts to your view that jiggled a bit without a bra or her harness to hold them in place (but to be fair, they didn’t help keep them in place much).

“wow, what a pretty pair of tits,” you marveled, a vexing tone never leaving your voice or expressions, experimentally pinching at her perk nipples to elicit a beautiful cry from her lips. “probably the nicest ones i’ve ever seen on a human.”

meloco has a fantastic bosom, anyone can see that as it’s probably one of the first things people notice about her with the pink harness cupping them bringing even more attention to them with the fashion statement. they look even nicer when they aren’t obstructed by anything, large and soft and perfect for groping like stress balls while her buds hardened between your fingertips, you couldn’t help but lick your lips at the sight. tou didn’t think that she would be so sensitive too! drinking up erotic moans with her melodic fillings your ears with every ministration performed on her tits.

“god, i wish i could play with them forever, but i don’t have all night. now… how should i spend the rest of my time with you?” you tilted your head to whisper into her ear, “should i tongue-fuck you until you squirt all over my face? maybe we should scissor and rub our pussies against each other? oh, or i could summon a strap and split you open on my cock— you seem like a size queen…”

she shuddered in your arms at you contemplating and humming what to do next out loud, planting unholy fantasies in her mind with every scenario you suggested. all of them sounded good, any of them would do, she just needed you so desperately right now.

you suddenly pressed your hand into her upper chest to move higher on the mattress, positioning yourself over her head while facing the foot of the bed and the rest of her body. “whatever i choose to do with, you’ll only get once i decide you earned it…” before her very eyes, your silk underwear disappeared into thin air to reveal your pretty cunt wanting just as much attention as hers did and you rested your weight over her mouth for her to get to work.

the exorcist quickly grabbed onto your thighs and began to lap eagerly at your folds, almost catching you off guard with how quickly she performed like it was second nature (looks like she also got plenty of experience with eating pussy at the institute of infinity, this girl really owes everything to you for leading her here). she salivated at the scent and never tasted anything like you before with a sweet and floral essence, like an ambrosial nectar that had her addicted the minute your arousal made contact with her tongue.

letting out a low hum of satisfaction, you felt a fire of vitality ignite in your soul and surge through your veins. the mixture of pleasure she willing gave you and the energy you were siphoning from her felt incredible compared to a normal powerless human’s. this school contains plenty of other students who are gifted with all sorts of special abilities, perhaps you should indulge yourself and pay her friends a visit to see if any of them are interested in the treat that is bedding a succubus.

she stroked her muscle against your practically gushing slit, shoving her tongue into your passage as much as she could to savor you like a fine wine. her rational mind was screaming that she shouldn’t be waltzing into the palm of the demon she harbored so much resentment for, but it was silenced by her lust-induced desperation to orgasm and just drown herself in ecstasy to make up for the headache that revolved around you for so long.

you circled her clit with your fingertip, smirking at her twitching at the action and the mess of arousal webbing over her weeping hole like a present between her legs before tutting like you were disappointed in her, “so wet that you're soaked just from eating me out? i knew that you were whore, but really? god, how fucking filthy you are! don’t worry, i don’t judge, let me clean it up for you…”

meloco squealed into your pussy as you leaned over to put your mouth on hers to harshly suck on her pearl between your lips, squeezing her thighs and pulling at them to bend her knees for better access to her pussy. your tongue darted out and gave her clit a few kitten licks, making her shiver when she felt the cool titanium of your piercing contrasting with your hot tongue. to you, she tasted like a syrupy sweet summer’s fruit, ripe and plucked for your taking with honeyed juices dripping from its core— the forbidden fruit of the kyoran family’s runaway heiress that you’ve been yearning to take a bite from ever since your fated battle.

she struggled to keep her own pace against yours, losing focus amidst the pleasure and her movements faltering as she became too busy moaning to work her mouth properly. while the vibrations she was sending were nice, it was hardly enough to get you anywhere hence you began to delicately grind against her face to signal her to continue and squished your thighs around her head a bit more tightly. unlike her who seemed ready to burst at any second if you were any rougher, it would take you a bit more simulation for your release.

you teased her opening with your fingertip, gathering her oozing slit on the pad and circling around the rim, yet not penetrating her until you could hear a muffled whine pleading you to stop teasing. all you could was giggle at how needy she was, demanding your fingers as well since your mouth must not have been enough! working a finger followed by another into her with barely any resistance with how drenched she was, pumping them in and out of her experimentally while thoroughly enjoying the squelching sounds being made.

your skilled motions raging from scissoring her so delightfully to languid thrusts had her feeling so hot and borderline feverish. the blood rushing to her head and her loins swimming with pleasure had her dizzy, unable to think about anything with her mind melting like an ice cube in your mouth. she was close, so close, and she could feel the knot in her stomach getting ever so tighter and ready to snap at any moment. while you were being so casual and even almost lazy in your actions, she was frantic to reach her long-awaited climax. she knew it would come in any minute if you kept it up like this, but she wanted it now.

as though you read her mind (she wouldn’t be surprised if you had the ability to do so), you suddenly curled your fingers against her sweet spot and pushed her over the edge nearly instantaneously, “come on, melo, cum for me.”

with a gasp on your command, her vision stuttered white with stars and her cunt was clamping around your fingers with a vice as she gushed all over them while squirming like crazy— you had to properly hold her down to stop her from thrashing about so much since your weight wasn’t enough to do the trick. for extra measure and your own amusement, you mercilessly rubbed her clit to ride out her orgasm and watched her spasm under you for the fun of it.

“you know, i would love to stay for longer, but as i said before, i don’t have all night to be fucking around with an archenemy,” you mentioned, flying off of her bed and landing your feet on the floor. there was evidence of her spit mixed with your essence dripping down your leg, but with a snap of your fingers, it was like nothing ever happened with a fresh pair of underwear made of lace this time. before making your exit, you turned around and pulled meloco by the fabric of her torn top to force her to meet your eyes. “tell me who you belong to.”

“i’m yours,” she mumbled, still in a daze from the activity that happened mere seconds ago and how you moved on from it so quickly. she felt noticeably more drained than she usually did after finishing, but she wouldn’t remember that succubi get their power from their partner’s strength after sexual activity until she was sound of mind a few hours later after a nap. for once, she felt grateful for the strenuous training her family pushed her through— had she been any weaker than she was now, she might have fallen unconscious for days or worse.

“that’s what i thought,” you pressed another kiss on her lips, tasting yourself on her lips as she tasted herself on yours. “you may be a pathetic slut who abandoned everything she follows for a good fuck, but you’re mine.”

[ichabodsam]

intro

BEAU MIRCHOFF, HOMOSEXUAL, CIS MALE & HE/HIM — well met ! as blood demands SAMAEL ICHABOD CARROLL has answered the call ! they have been chosen and are now claimed as the DIONYSUS. while they have been alive for 30 years, the adventure has just begun. they must now train hard in the ways of the WIZARD. while their SMARTS, COMPASSION & BOLDNESS can be an asset to the god’s cause, their ALOOFNESS, TEMPESTOUSNESS & IMPULSIVENESS could create some tension. only the fates will know in the end, but now their thread has been woven into the tapestry of myths and legends !

❝ dear boy, you're all duct tape and safety pins inside; how are you alive? ❞

samael ichabod carroll (march 21, 1994 - )

would-be savior preacher, faithless believer, nasty little habit of driving people insane--including himself.

parents: john carroll, charity carroll / dionysus

siblings: grace anne carroll

sexuality: unrepentant homosexual

exorcism attempts: five

class: enchantment wizard

parallels: josh washington, sam winchester, carrie, quentin coldwater, boy erased

❝ i learned the voices died with me ❞

bio

His father used to say, proudly, boastful, loudly, that Samael was a gift of god. In all his greatness and all his rage, to bless the congregation, and the very lives of those faithful. The more skeptic ones could whisper, but in a small town in the middle of nowhere like theirs, the pastor's words had power and Samael grew surrounded by expectations he never asked for. It wasn't hard, if he was being honest, at least it wasn't hard to sway and move and sing praises to the lord while people weeped and trembled before him, overtaken by emotion, or God's presence. His father's hand on his shoulder as the congregation grew. The visions, as his father would call it, were godsent. They didn't feel that way though, the sound of blood dripping into marble floors, the screeching of monsters hunting for sport, the voices that chased him until he broke into his father's liquor cabinet to shut them down. He couldn't know if it was that or being found with the tailor's boy but he was sent away discreetly months after. Grey places with grey walls and grey people did nothing to chase away the visions of his father, not even when they pumped him full of pills. Sure, he couldn't do much, but he was all too aware of the chaos around him. He just couldn't tell if it was real or not. In the end, the place was shutdown, or his father took him home? There was a fire, he was sure. And screams. But maybe that was from a vision as well. He was no longer allowed in church, too unstable his father said. Too dirty. And everyone that tried exorcising him walked away shaking and weeping, but not in religious joy anymore. His father no longer saw him as godly. Eventually Samael found his new flock, amidst parties and concerts, sweaty bodies and out of body experiences, getting lost in hazy crowds pulsing with life and madness; where people flocked to him over hours that stretched into days and nights without him noticing. Not even then could he quiet the voices, the whispers, the visions or delirium that chased him, anything but god-given. Samael didn't talk much to god those days, but if he did, his message would be short and simple, so unlike the sermons he'd learned. "I'm just so fucking tired."

[queenmarytudor]

Mary I's Fight For The Throne

18th August - Mary makes her first Royal proclamation

Following Mary's jubilant entry into London, fights instantly break out between the mixed population of Catholics and Protestants. A priest who performs Mass has his chalice and vestments stolen, and "two or three hundred people assembled and made such riot that the mayor had been obliged to go in person to quell the tumult." 1 while on the 15th a "defamatory leaflet was scattered about the streets of the town:

"Noblemen and gentlemen favouring the word of God, take counsel together and join with all your power and your following! Withdraw yourselves from our virtuous Lady, Queen Mary, because Rochester, Walgrave, Inglefield, Weston and Hastings, hardened and detestable papists all, follow the opinions of the said Queen. Fear not, and God will prosper and help our holy design and intent; be assured that they have no great strength now, except two archpapists, Derby and Stourton; Arundel might be mentioned as the third, with the renegades (Sir Edmund) Peckham and (Sir William) Drury, chamberlain, who have no great power. As to the other personages in the country, of whatever condition they may be, they will assuredly prove tractable and conform to our belief, as we have seen by experience during the last seven years. But Winchester, the great devil, must be exorcised and exterminated with his disciples named above, before he can poison the people and wax strong in his religion. Draw near to the Gospels, and your guardian shall be the crown of glory!" 2

Hearing of this, and after already giving the Mayor and alderman of London "a writing to act and provide accordingly, and let it be known in the proper quarter, without making any solemn proclamation", Mary decides she must make an official statement. 3

On the 18th of August Mary makes her first royal proclamation regarding religion:

Her Grace, considering the great troubles and dangers that were brought forth in the past by the diversity of opinions and questioning about religion within the kingdom, and having learnt moreover that since her accession to the throne contentions have sprung up afresh owing to certain rumours and false reports circulated by wicked persons disposed to evil doing, has determined to make her resolve known to her faithful subjects, as follows:

First, her Majesty, being now in possession of her Imperial crown and estate pertaining to it, cannot forsake that faith that the whole world knows her to have followed and practised since her birth; she desires rather, by God's grace, to preserve it until the day of her death; and she desires greatly that her subjects may come to embrace the same faith quietly and with charity, whereby she shall receive great happiness. She makes known to her beloved subjects that out of her goodness and clemency she does not desire to compel anyone to do so for the present, or until by common consent a new determination shall be come to; but she forbids all and sundry of her loving subjects, of every age and condition, under the penalty of the law to stir up tumult or sedition among her people, on the pretext of upholding certain laws of the kingdom made according to the fantasies of men; but rather commands them to live quietly until fresh ordinances be made, because her Majesty desires, and strictly orders and commands, that all shall live in peace and Christian charity. Words of recent introduction, bandied as insults, such as “papist,” “heretic” and so forth, shall be dropped; and all men, by possessing their souls in the fear of God, and by a rightous life and holy deeds, shall truly show their desire to glorify God and His Word, as they profess in their reasonings and disputations to desire it. By these practices, and by honouring God, men shall live without fear and the tranquillity of the kingdom shall be maintained, whence her Grace shall derive great joy and contentment. But if any were to presume to hold conventicles in public or in private, and sow dissension among the people, her Majesty makes it known that she would do her duty in reforming their ways and punishing those who should be guilty of going against her laws.

Moreover, as we see that false rumours and reports are nourished and maintained by certain evilly-disposed persons who take upon themselves, without sufficient authority, to preach and interpret the word of God according to their own mind, in churches and elsewhere, publicly and privately, and by representations, by false printed books of recent composition, in rhymes, ballads and other foolish and unreasonable ways attack the ministers of God and the articles of the Christian religion which they have recently brought into controversy, which books, rhymes and treatises are given out by the printers and booksellers with evil zeal to sell them and make their profit, or rather with greed of unjust gain; her Majesty commands and strictly charges every one of her subjects, of whatever age and condition, that no one shall henceforth, under pretext of sermons or lessons, either in church, publicly or privately, interpret the Scriptures, or teach anything pertaining to religion, except it be in the schools of the university. Neither shall they print any book, treatise, dialogue, rhyme, ballad, comedy or argument except by special, written command of her Majesty, under pain of her displeasure.

Her Majesty strictly commands all and sundry that no one among her subjects shall presume by his own act to punish or rise against those who may go against the law, or against any who may have taken part by word or deed in the past rebellion made by the Duke of Northumberland and his accomplices; neither shall they take their goods nor offend them in their persons by violence or imprisonment or similar acts; but they shall refer them to her Majesty or her officers, so that they may be punished according to the law. Her Majesty does not wish to discourage any man from denouncing or giving information concerning those who may be guilty of the above-named offences against her own person or the members of her Privy Council, so that they may be punished as the law ordains.

Her Majesty enjoins upon all her subjects the observance of the said commands, and decrees that they shall everywhere bend to her will without reserve, and thus avoid her displeasure and the rigour of her wrath, giving her no cause for sorrow; being determined to leave no deed unpunished that may be committed rebelliously against the law, so that there may follow no troubles or disorders, but the laws be carried out to the letter.

Her Majesty hopes that her loving subjects will conduct themselves befittingly; and, in fine, she commands and strictly enjoins upon her mayors, sheriffs, justices, bailiffs, constables and other officers and public administrators to use all diligence in the observance and execution of her will and commands, and to see to it that they who shall wilfully break them be sent to the nearest public prison and kept there until notice be given to her Majesty or her Privy Council of their names and the fault imputed to them, together with their replies on examination; after which they shall receive their punishment according to the law, as an example to the rest. 4

On the same day, at Westminster Hall, John Dudley, Duke of Northumberland is found guilty of treason. After being released following Mary's entry into London, the "Duke of Norfolk, sitting under the cloth of estate, gave judgement". 5

The execution is planned for the 21st, however it is delayed a day once Northumberland recants Protestantism. He "received the holy sacrament, heard mass devoutly and performed all the customary acts of devotion according to the ancient religion, declaring loudly before those who were in the Tower that since he had forsaken God and the Church to follow the new religion he had done no good, and his actions had been unfortunate. He confessed publicly that he had continued in error for three or four years, and went so far as to approve the authority of the Roman Church, using words that avowed the said authority, as we have been told. He did not merely declare what is said above in the Tower, but repeated the same words on the scaffold, loudly, before the people. He recommended them to obey the Queen, whom he called good and virtuous, saying that she had attained the throne miraculously, by reason of her true right by inheritance, and that therein he acknowledged the hand of God." 6

On the 22nd of August "the Duke of Northumberland and Sir John Gates, late Captain of the Guard, and Sir Thomas Palmer, knights, were all three beheaded on the Tower hill, between 8 and 9 of the clock in the forenoon, and after their bodies and heads were carried into the Tower again." 7

Sources:

1. Spanish State Papers, 16th August 1553

2. Spanish State Papers, 16th August 1553

3. Spanish State Papers, 16th August 1553

4. Spanish State Papers, 16th August 1553

5. Wriothesley's Chronicle

6. Spanish State Papers, 27th August 1553

7. Wriothesley's Chronicle

[average-hyperfixator]

How I feel writing my stupid IHNMAIMS X FAITH (I Have No Faith And I Must Exorcise) au into a fanfic to upload to AO3

First chapter coming October 31st, Halloween :3 to the minuscule amount of people who are in both these fandoms I hope u enjoy when it does come out ^_^

[priest-ted]

…Huh.

Using my full first name. That’s… odd. Especially coming from an anonymous source.

Ah, it’s just some questions, I’m sure nothing too bad will come of it…

…hopefully. Nothing worse than demons after all.

(ooc; AND HE’S HERE. BOOM.)

[talenlee]

Game Pile: I Wish We Were Worse (Faith and the Satanic Panic)

Script and thumbnail below the fold

Content warning, this is a game with a lot of horror elements including demonic possession and catholic imagery.

Spoiler warning, I’m going to talk about the elements of this game that include the ending of the stories.

Tone warning, I guess? I don’t think very highly of this game, and as a direct result I’m probably going to be mean. And as we know, there are few things worse than being mean to a video game, especially an extremely successful and critically lauded one.

Introduction

Faith is a survival horror game from Airdorf Studios that came out in 2017 and has been gussied up and re-released and expanded on pretty much every year since then. It’s notable for a particular aesthetic that you’d have to be actually pretty well informed about historical video game consoles to accurately pin down, but most people will probably say something like a ‘retro computer.’ You know, an aesthetic space that reaches from the Tandi to the PS3.

The aesthetic is big chunky pixels on a solid black background without much capacity to genuinely do ‘behind’ or ‘layers’ in a contextual way, abstracted shapes that try to represent a thing in big, strictly defined, obvious shapes. There are simplistic animations that would normally betray a limited ability of the game to remember information for each entity. Locations are bare and boxy because that’s what the system can do, and colours are defined by outlines, not by fills. I like what it’s doing with how it looks, because it positions itself as being not just limited, but old. It shows what it can and explains what it can in this very difficult to parse, difficult to experience way, because it is an old game, or so it pretends. That oldness positions the story close to when it’s set — which is Connecticut in 1986.

Part 1

In Faith you take on the role of John Ward, a priest, though there’s asterisks around all sorts of things when you simplify descriptions like that. John’s a priest, formerly, and doing the work of a priest and dressing like a priest and considers the world through the mind of a priest, so y’know, priest. Priest enough. John starts the game disembarking from a car on the highway at the edge of the woods, intent on heading towards the wreckage of a failed exorcism that led to the reason he’s a priest (former). To make your way to the house you first must encounter things like an abandoned well, an old shack with a key in it, a pile of bones and a skittish deer, totally normal exploratory things to do until you encounter the flesh-eating monster that will eat you while you explore. These things need to be done in an order that involves exorcising spirits from stuff, getting a key from the shack, reading a bunch of notes, then getting to The House. Once in the house, you explore it, you encounter a… I guess there’s a better technical word for it, because it’s a possessed child, but we’re just going to go with ‘monster.’

Once the monster is activated, you need to go around the place, exorcise some stuff, understand some of the backstory, and avoid the monster hunting you around the house. Eventually you unlock the attic, head on up there, do another exorcism, which involves essentially, a kind of quick time event. At that point, Faith truly becomes a videogame because that’s when you get a gun. Since the gun is the all purpose sign of agency in videogames, the gun is where the story forks off into five different directions for you to pick and choose in true hypertextual fashion. I didn’t, I did one ending and got pretty much exactly what I expected.

I have no intention to comparatively line up all of these different endings one with another though, and try to explicate some kind of ‘true’ or ‘canon’ ending. This is silly, because one, videogames aren’t like that, and two, canon is for cops, but three, this is a game that’s meant to be examined critically. Engaging with the game critically means being able to look at the game closely and in a specific context that determines meaning out of the repeated use of symbols presented in the text. To quote Roland Barthes: Don’t have a cow, man. If a game is worth critical acclaim it’s worth critical regard and critical regard can bring with it a consideration of the ideas it’s using that doesn’t spend its time sucking the text’s dick.

One of the things about treating games as art and regarding things as works that can be critically engaged with is the willingness to say, even if other people like this, here are ideas that I find present in this work that I don’t like and I have this reaction to. It is not a matter of putting things on an objective scale where goodness and badness slide up and down, but rather that if this text is meaningful and artistic and representative of deeper thought, then it is a thing that it needs to be okay to call the story you find there bad. It’s the price of being interesting, I’m afraid.

Faith is interesting. I would never dare to claim it isn’t interesting.

Part 2

Fundamentally the story of Faith is the story of a priest reconnecting with his faith. That is, he had an experience in the past that shook his faith and had him separated from what he saw as the legitimising authority of his faith (the Vatican), then learning through doing that actually, he still had his legitimising authority of his faith all along (God). The story is framed as a horror and a tragedy — after all, a little girl dies, what could be more appropriately tragic in a man’s story than that? And he’s a priest, those, get that, those are meant to protect children, since they are good people, and turns out that the just and loving god they represent doesn’t do anything to protect little girls from being turned into meat portals. It really is rough on poor John.

In terms of engaging with the game, you can treat any given game in terms of the things it lets you do through its interface. These are the game’s affordances, the buttons it lets you push. Faith has at most five buttons, with one all-purpose ‘do stuff’ button, and four ‘move in this direction’ buttons. Four of those buttons give you a sense of material space, letting you move around in the game’s spaces, and that in turn lets you find and define the shape of the world you’re in. After all, a game can show you a wall, but if you can’t engage with that wall (by walking into it), it isn’t making that wall meaningful. Buttons create movement that create material space.

Following the idea that affordances create space in the game, then, the other button, the all-purpose ‘do something’ button that is ‘hold your cross up and hope something happens’ (which is really a killer way to represent faith) shows you a world where an excommunicated priest’s hope for change and presentation of a divinely specified object can change the world. I could not see any other sign the game is trying to represent this behaviour as anything else but ‘do faith at this object/in this direction,’ and imagining that it’s doing something else involves one of those favourite things of the pseudocritical, which is to remove one’s own ability to interpret the obvious in an attempt to determine the potential.

That creates our two affordances: Move around a space, and demonstrate faith in God at something. Eventually, ‘demonstrate faith in this’ turns into ‘use gun,’ which seems to suggest that this is a game where ‘having faith at things’ and ‘shooting them’ are reasonably comparable ideas. “Do faith” and “Do gun” being cognates is a really interesting kind of fundamental overlap but don’t take this as me trying to deliver some sort of deep cognate out of the game’s religiosity. In this game, you do faith at things until the faith doesn’t work any more and then you resort to using a gun. Faith drives out evil spirits that I assume are concealing paper scattered around the forest, gun drives out evil spirits that are inhabiting bodies and keeping them alive.

I think this is a reasonable assessment of what Faith is doing with its play mechanics. What about its setting?

Part 3

Faith is set during the Satanic panic, in the 1980s. It is set in the northern states of the United States of America, a country that has always been Christian and never not privileged Christians, and it’s set in 1986, which is smack in the middle of the period of what we now know in hindsight as the McMartin Preschool trial. This trial, which at the time of writing is the most expensive trial in American history, in which, to not mince words, a bunch of selfish assholes acted on their biases against people who they perceive as even modestly queer and inadequately Christian. Inspired and inflamed by popular fiction masquerading as fact, the book Michelle Remembers and the claims of some mentally unwell fantasists were stitched together into what, to some actual adults sounded reasonable as a basis to then mentally abuse children into corroborating.

The Satanic Panic was an example of a common Christian evil, to establish fictional rules for reality, then punish people for violating them, facts be damned. Some asshole writes a book for scaring people’s mums – sorry, moms – and then their work catapults out because the systems for the public good aren’t capable of looking at the supernatural and conspiratorial claims of people who also have microwaves in their homes and understand that compound interest exists, and go ‘uh, no, we’re not going to waste our time being mad at a guy for wearing shorts.’

Faith uses its visual aesthetic to frame itself as being from around this same time, too. It gives a specific date. It focuses on the heart of the panic, the idea of demonically posessed children thanks to inadequate care and protection of the church. The exorcism failed at first, John re-attempts it without the Vatican’s support and succeeds, which suggests that the Vatican’s disavowing of John is them being wrong.

I’m not divining tea leaves here: Airdorf have said that the Satanic panic inspired this game.

Thing is, the Satanic Panic, a real event, was a massive event of community-wide child abuse. The people who destabilised and endangered a community, telling children to lie about bad things happening to them, gaslit children into trying to support a horrifying experience of engagement with an international satanic cult that I really cannot underscore enough, does not exist. This game looks at that event in history and suggests, hey, what if that happened?

Or, perhaps more darkly, because of opinions on the Satanic Panic: That happened, right? What about using that idea for a game? And make no mistake: it is a very common thing for people to think that the Satanic Panic was based on a real thing. That, you know, sure, it didn’t happen happen but it kinda happened, right? It was kinda a real thing? Right? Didn’t a bunch of people go to jail because of the magical rituals they were doing? And they don’t think that’s a ludicrous thing to say.

Now, do not think I am saying ‘this game, set in the Satanic Panic, sucks, because you shouldn’t set a game in the Satanic Panic.’ I am by no means against the idea of using horrible topics for games. After all, Wolfenstein 3d is a great and classic game and it’s set during World War 2 and starts in a prison where Nazis torture Jewish prisoners. That game, however, is a game where you’re playing the tortured Jewish person breaking out of jail and killing a bunch of Nazis on the way. Wolfenstein 3D is a game where the game criticises the Nazis as bad people who suck and it’s okay to shoot at and hate, a position that really shouldn’t be controversial now but whatever. In Faith, however, whil it’s set in the Satanic Panic it doesn’t seem to be critical of it. In fact, despite being set so intentionally in the time of the Satanic Panic, it represents the Vatican’s unwillingness to properly torture and kill enough little girls to be a failing of the Vatican.

After all, God’s real, John is right, and the Exorcism’s problem was that he gave up on it, not that the Catholic church routinely supports people to tie up children to chairs and torture them because they think that demons are real. Which, videogames? Sure, videogames can work on the logic that demons are real, but if you make a game about demons being real, the followup is then that ‘oh, yeah, I guess real world ways of dealing with demons are legitimate.’

Look, I’m not on Team Catholic. I am in fact kinda on the opposite side of that conversation. To me, in the real world, Faith is not an idea with a meaningful value. It actually strikes me as the opposite of a virtue, a vice that lets you treat your ignorance and emotionality as something that demands other people’s respect. But even setting aside that personal value, Faith is a game that extols its value of Faith as a thing that you can do, that has meaningful, provable agency in its world, and then that agency, at its absolute limit, can’t really do anything that you shouldn’t be doing with a gun.

God is real, and so are bullets.

Conclusion

Fundamentally, the story of Faith is just another fictional work in the lineage of The Exorcist and Rosemary’s Baby and going back to Lovecraftian works like The Shadow over Innsmouth and then forward to Michelle Remembers. What sets Faith apart from those things is that with thirty years of hindsight, it steps back in time, positions itself as a story of the time, with those elements, and considers the struggle against evil as being very hard, very difficult, bittersweet and tragic, but ultimately worth doing in the name of fighting evil and holding to your faith.

It is a game that looks at how badly the victims of the Satanic Panic were treated and wishes that they had been treated worse.

[thechapelofio]

A concept

You're a priest called to my home to exorcise me. I'm tied to a chair as you recite the rites of exorcism. I interrupt with the typical demon stuff; at first, pretending not to be possessed, crying please just let me go, I don't understand what's going on here! But you don't fall for it. You brandish your crucifix towards me, flicking me with holy water and it burns.

You command me to your attention in Latin and you have all of it, all of my attention.

I change tactics. I giggle and throw my head back. 'I know you want me,' I say, 'I know you want this body. It's plain to read on you. Vows of celibacy will do that to you. You can swathe yourself in vestments all you like, but the cloth of God cannot disguise the body of man, the body of sin...'

A particularly pointed invocation causes me pain but after wincing and hissing it fades into a moan.

'You can hurt me all you like, Father, it feels all the better.'

I start to rock my body on the chair, trying to grind down on the flat seat, a futile almost humiliating endeavor. It hurts you to see it.

'I know you want me, but you must know that I want you too, that this vessel wants you. It is overflowing with desire unrealized.'

More rocking, the chair starting to rock with me, my breath coming in hot and fast and sharp. You stutter over your words, unable to focus on them. You fumble with your sprinkler, holy water splashing us both and causing me to cry out in pain and pleasure.

When the chair tips dangerously backwards, just as it's about to fall beyond where it cannot be righted again, you reach out to stop it, to save me...

And then I have you

The smell of sweat is heady in the air, our breath is hot on each other's faces. The slip in your faith, the chink in your armor is all I need for the bindings holding me to the chair to come undone.

I pounce

I pin you to the floor beneath me and there is a moment of pause where you are unsure what my next move is going to be- clearly I am stronger than I look, I could easily choose to dig my nails into your throat and rip it out

But instead my hands go to your vestments. They slip beneath the outer layers to the belt underneath, undoing it with purpose. You want to look away, but my gaze holds you fast. I can feel the evidence of your sin underneath the cloth. I stroke it with my hands and let my body roll upon yours like Mary taken with the Holy Spirit, my eyes rolling back into my head.

I catch a glimpse of you biting your hand to muffle your sounds and I grin wickedly. There will be none of that. I want to hear of your ecstasy as much as I want to partake of your body. I take your hand in mine and pull it from your mouth, the bite marks evident upon your flesh. I lavish those marks with some of my own, my own teeth and tongue, before pulling your hand down my body to my chest and placing it upon my breast. I can feel your hesitance in the way your hand trembles, but I can feel your desire jumping between my legs.

I press my body down upon yours to feel your need more firmly, my other hand sneaking back underneath the layers so I can feel it directly. It's hot and heavy with blood and I can feel your heart beat when I squeeze it just a little too tight.

I peel back your layers, laying you bare before me. This time you try to look away and I pull your gaze back with a firm grip on the chin. I reveal myself to you and align our organs, but do not let them touch. I place your hands on my hips and I wait.

The room is still and heavy with the desire, with the weight of the choice you have to make.

I delicately touch your face, running one finger beneath your chin and when you look up from your predicament into my eyes you see not me, but the innocence, the vessel, and your resolve is shattered.

You plunge into me and it is then that I have you fully under my control, when you are fully enveloped inside of me, swallowed by me. Your hips stutter and shake as you try to control your body, as you try to control mine. Your fingernails dig futiley into my hips. My pelvis glides smoothly as you slip further and further from the light of God and into my shadow.

"You are mine, priest"

[russenoire]

I was thinking about how dimple thought mob would exorcise him if tsubomi or that guy he possessed in spirits arc got hurt, and how reigen told dimple mob would exorcise him for sure if he finds out he lied in wd arc. It felt really strange when fandom took their words as facts, like... none of these are dimple's fault? Why would reigen and dimple think that way?

shigeo himself has threatened to return ekubo to the void for far less, if you'll recall: ｢僕の名前は茂夫だよ。次、茂ちゃんって呼んだら除霊するから。｣ 'boku no namae wa shigeo da yo. tsugi, "shige-chan" -tte yondara jorei suru kara.' 'my name is shigeo. call me "shige-chan" again and i'll exorcise you.'

when he wakes up to the sleazy ghost's wheedling voice, he's ready to exorcise him. he does not give a single fuck. ｢他に言い残すことは？｣ comes to mind ('hoka ni iinokosu koto wa?' i would translate this as 'any more last words?'). then he warns him LATER THAT DAY that he'll be exorcised if he misbehaves again. granted, this came early in their acquaintance... and the very next morning after ekubo tried to murder him in s1e3... but still. (the ghost calls him by his given name for the rest of the series.)

in the psycho helmet arc, shigeo is incensed enough, hurt enough, and more than prepared to make good on that promise. he does not want to! and is weeping at the prospect of sending his friend to the shadow realms, but he will if he must. so that threat has been looming over ekubo for the entire series, anon. it's not baseless.

reigen's sense of what 'misbehavior' entails feels less punitive than ekubo's, however. it probably speaks to their backgrounds. reigen's example entails a breach of trust. even if that lie was justified (and oh ho, was it ever), it was still a lie, with all the potential to piss shigeo off. and reigen has reason to fear that, given that much of his own relationship with shigeo is based on blatant lies and he's secretly terrified of what will happen when they come to light... he's projecting so hard...

i imagine ekubo has led the kind of harsh gangsta (after)life where spirits being obliterated on someone's whim is common, if he fears it happening over what you mention specifically. those are less examples of behaving badly than failure to keep a promise, i think. but in ekubo's worldview? still perhaps bad enough to warrant severe punishment. the spirit has a better sense of what shigeo is capable of than reigen does and has valid reason to fear him, too.

i don't think shigeo actually would have exorcised ekubo for either of these things. i mean, he's grateful to the ghost for preventing him from nuking a sizable chunk of his hometown in grief and voices this; his methods wouldn't have mattered. especially after the fact. if shigeo can recontextualize mogami's torture for months as a cosmic fucking joke played at his expense and take him on? he can understand and forgive ekubo's lie in good faith.

[thewitchoftheweed]

Hello! I hope your month has started fine! I wanted to post more Shittens, but Azrael and his family came to me, so I must exorcise them first. A very ironic name you gave the Fanatic, because Azrael in Hebrew means "Angel of God", or much funnier, "Help from God", given which God he was serving and how it ended for him. You're funny.

So, here's Azrael as a demon, which I took some creative liberty to add on

A whole preview page of Demon Azrael and his family, left is a closeup on them. His wife, Hope, daughter and baby son, Faith and Love respectively. The naming is relevant.

Azrael in his Vessel period, with a necklace that has a skull and the axe forged by his brother in his mortal life. The necklace is important to him personally, but the skull came from being ripped out from the heretic that killed him, a deer. His attire is inspired by Ancient Greek toga, which alludes to how he was killed

Being bisected from the back, from the top right to bottom left side. He didn't go down without a fight. Being attacked from the back has a meaning of being attacked by someone you trusted, like your god for example. Get it?

Demon Azrael, with his eye shape and another version of his more accurate to scale horns. You can’t see it clearly, but his ribs are bloody exposed, his wool is stained with blood, ivory thorns poking out of his arms, horns and hooves grown serrated with the latter having backward thorns and a rooster spurs at the back. His necklace has become a belt for his tattered tunic. His eyes had markings carved into around it and there are added lines on his eyeballs around the pupils.

Next would be about the family.

Oh wow, this is incredible! I love all the details you've come up with for the way he died/how his demon form looks. Glad you appreciate the irony of his name as well. Poor guy got screwed big time.

His look as the vessel/The Fanatic is really good; he definitely looks like an imposing figure. You captured that perfectly!