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artist-issues · 4 months ago

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You're my new favorite blog! You have no idea how I wish I could peck inside your brain like a chicken. 😭😂😂 I am a Catholic and a recovering agnostic. I struggle with letting go of my old way of life and philosophy constantly, I have been struggling with it since the day I decided to revert - that was back in 2017. (I think you would like to know my journey back to the Faith started after watching HBO's The Young Pope! 👌🏼) At this point I don't know if I'll ever be the person the Lord wants me to be, oh well, I'll die trying and I know that will mean something.

I just know I can't go back to being a non-believer, because as Carl Young said, now I don't just believe, I know. The irony is my struggle to believe in something I know to be objectively the Truth.

I have a question for you though, actually I hope for some advice from you. How do I reconcile with the reality that I haven't become who I dreamed to become (like career wise), but now that a new career has been shoved upon me (a career my parents wanted for me - and they valued safety and stability over "following my dreams" I suppose)? ...which isn't necessarily a bad thing, because it is an extremely noble profession and it pays quite well.

The thing is, as much as I try to accept my new career, I keep telling myself and to others that I'm doing this for my parents and not because I want to be here. I feel terrible about it. But, again, it's not like I am unfulfilled (I am unhappy though, but that comes with the work culture/environment, I feel like I am surrounded by 40+ year old teenagers); as a matter of fact, I do think I know - objectively - in my heart that this is exactly where the Lord wants me to be? But I keep fighting against it, keep struggling against this sense of vocational calling that I'm feeling towards my new job, instead I desperately wanna give into my want to go "live the life I want." Like throw this all away, get new training and start all over with the career I wanted all those years ago.

I want to be better, to be sacrificial like Christ on the Cross. I've always known I had a little depression (comes with my disability from a young age and this whole dream thing); I have been suicidal over this, I actually used to joke with myself that I'd kill myself if I don't achieve my professional goals by the time I turned 25. I will turn 30 this September and even though I haven't been literally dead, I feel like I've been in a vegetative state - mentally - ever since the day I turned 25. I hope that makes sense.

I started seeing a therapist 2 weeks ago since my mental health started affecting my new job - she did say I have depression and is trying to help me but I just don't know if I want to be helped at all, because I am unable to do the exercises she tells me (like create a routine, exercise well, write down good thoughts, etc.) I feel like I'm failing myself, my parents and, most importantly, my Heavenly Father.

I apologise if this is nonsensical, I apologise for dumping all of this on you - random stranger on the internet - but idk I felt like maybe you'd have something wise to tell me to knock some sense into me (without a bump to prove it hehe).

Thank you and God bless! 🥰

You’re very kind, and I’m glad you feel comfortable enough to share all this with me! I really never have anything good of my own to say, or any wisdom to offer, except what I “steal” from God…and I guess what I mean is, if I ever say anything helpful or good or true, I’m just the messenger. I didn’t come up with it. On my own I have zero wisdom or good things to offer.

Anyway, I was surprised reading this because I have gone through (been going through) a similar sort of mindset. I went to school for the career I dreamed about (still dream about) and I worked hard and I wanted it more than anybody around me (very Mike Wasowski in MU of me) and it hasn’t happened the way I planned, or in my timetable.

I mean, in all humility: I work with a studio making a tv show, but it hasn’t got off the ground yet, and I work for a company that writes movie reviews, but neither of those things pay my bills. I have a third job, working with therapists, that’s nothing like what I always wanted to do. That’s my “career,” but it’s not the career I’m passionate about and working toward. And I wonder if I’ll ever do anything “major” in the line of work I love and went to school for. And when I do, I have gotten into some really dark mental places.

Forgive me for not using the words “depression” or “suicidal.” I hate using those words because they’re overused and romanticized and flooding the culture. But more importantly I hate using them because the only thing I identify with is Christ, not any mental struggle I try to slither back into, like a snake trying to put back on old skin. I’m not my overthinking—I’m not my depression—I’m not my suicidal thoughts or emotions—I am one with Christ. Those are things inside me that are defeated and dead—the teeth have been knocked out of them. They just gum me from time to time. So I want you to know I empathize with you, but that’s my point and that’s how I want to answer you:

The only thing about you that really matters is Christ.

Who He says you are, what He has done and how He lived, which is applied to you because He said it is, by grace alone, through faith alone. No matter how you feel.

And I say that to you, as the answer, because I think you and I focus too much on what could be and what “should be” as if God has a set path for us, and if we don’t figure out what it is and walk it, we’ll have a less-fulfilling life. “If I stay at my therapy job and just work with teenagers and write on my blog for the rest of my life, I’ll be fine, but I won’t be as good as I could be.” Or for you. “If I stay in this career I’m in, the one my parents backed me into, I’ll make it, I’ll be fine, but I’ll never be as happy as I want to be.” We’re both thinking, every once in a while, “This is career is what God wants for me, and all my misery is coming from not submitting to it, and if I could just wrestle my contentment into place and give up the thing I want, and submit to what God wants, I’d be fulfilled.”

But how do we know any of those thoughts are true? How do we know God wants us in these boring old careers we wouldn’t have chosen—didn’t choose? Or, how do we know these boring old careers are what we’re stuck in because we didn’t take the plunge and work harder for our “dreams,” which were what He really wanted us to do? How do we know either of those things?

We don’t. We don’t get to know. That’s the point.

Because that’s not how God works. Not from what I can tell in the Bible.

“And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.”. Colossians 3:17.

Whatever you do. Not “the one specific thing you figure out He wants you to do.”

My mom described it to me once when I was in a really dark place trying to figure out what He wanted me to do, paralyzed with indecision, afraid He wanted me to do something I just didn’t want to do, like this: “God doesn’t hold out one flower and say, ‘this is the one I want you to have, so you can either take it or take something worse.’ God makes a field of flowers, and He says, ‘Which one do you want? Pick one, and do it with excellence for Me.’ Then just trust Him to make it good.”

It sounds like you’re in a career, but you are wrestling with whether or not to pick it, now that you have some autonomy as an adult, or to pick starting over. Well. Pick one. Just pick one. And trust God to take care of you. Trusting God looks like thinking it through with excellence, then making the decision—and making the decision means letting go of worrying about the thing you didn’t pick. “Take every thought captive in obedience to Christ.” Once you make a choice, make it all the way, and don’t let your mind wander anymore to “what if this blows up in my face? What if I should’ve stayed back there at the crossroads, or gone down the other path?” It’s going to be hard and God is going to take care of you, no matter what you pick. So don’t let your mind go to those places where you worry; acknowledge the worry, and every time, ask God to help you remember that He’s got you.

Because here’s the point, here’s the thing: He does have you. Because ultimately, your career really doesn’t matter. It doesn’t, it doesn’t, it doesn’t. Neither does your dream. Not ultimately. And now I’ll say “our” because I need to hear it too. Our dreams and careers are not the point of us, and our dreams and careers are not what God means when He says “I’ll take care of you.”

What He means is, “I’ve already taken care of you.” Because the most important thing isn’t our job or our dream. The most important thing is, we’ve been rescued out of eternally being trapped in our broken desires, and now we get to live for Christ, Who is the Way, the Truth, and the Life. That’s the major. And that truth is where our fulfillment is supposed to come from, what our lives are meant for, our purpose. As long as we pick one, and do it with excellence to make the name of Jesus famous, with that goal in mind, we’ll be emotionally fulfilled. We’ll be satisfied. Because that’s the goal. Not making movies, or whatever it is you want to do. Not having secure means of living. Just…living our lives to make who Jesus is famous. We can do that wherever.

So then the choice? It becomes a minor, not a major, and the pressure of “will I be happy?” is off, because happiness isn’t found in that stuff. And whenever I forget, and start looking for happiness in my dreams, goals, career, that’s when it all starts to feel dark and stressful and hard and crushing. Because it was never meant to give me happiness or fulfillment—that’s a need only Christ can fulfill.

Don’t misunderstand me. He cares what you do. He cared about every decision you make, and He does have a plan. But that’s going to happen anyway. So just pray, consider which option is a) wise to go for and takes care of the responsibilities God has entrusted you with, b) which option you genuinely want, when your wants are not influenced by fears, and then c) step out and do it in faith. And do it with the mindset of, “I’m doing this, and I’m not thinking about the alternative if I can help it, and I’m also not putting all my happiness-eggs in this basket, because even if it crashes and burns, hey, I’m still one with Christ and I can still make Him famous no matter what road my career goes down.”

I hope this helps. It’s a subject I’m hamster-wheeling around in my mind right now a lot—but when I just fix my eyes on Christ and think about how the most important things, the things that give real joy and happiness, are already and forever taken care of and I can’t mess them up—then can get off the hamster wheel and enjoy the life He’s given me, right now, today, without worrying about the future.

#love you sib #asked #answered #thanks for asking #Christianity #biblical #faith #careers #options

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thebrookesnook · 3 months ago

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Here's the discussion for Umemiya's deity representation as seen in the latest chapter. If you haven't seen my thoughts on Takiishi's yet then I've provided a link to that post as well.

(I hope you appreciate the better quality & organization of the post from my well-rested brain cells)

Part 1: Takiishi Chika and the Karura

Spoilers for Chapter 150!

In my last post, I discussed my theory that the bird-like deity depicted for Takiishi was a karura. With Umemiya, I believe the deity to be Fudō Myō-ō (不動明王, ふどうみょうおう) who is also known as the Immovable Wisdom King (Skt. Ācalanātha).

[Fudō Mask was sourced from the Japanese Buddhist Statuary: A to Z Phot Dictionary; (Wooden) Seated Fudō Myō-ō Statue by Kaikei created in 1203 sourced from Isumu (360° view available)]

Fudō Myō-ō is THE central deity among all of the Myō-ō (warlike or wrathful gods) groupings, but is most prominently featured among the Godai Myō-ō (五大明王, Five Great Kings) who are manifestations of the Five Transcendental Buddha. He was given the title as the Immovable One due to his unwaivering commitment to the protection of Buddhist teachings.

Orginating as a pagan deity from India, Fudō's conversion to Buddhism began with humble beginnings. He was assigned as a servant and messenger of Buddha himself and later achieving higher positions—becoming a manifestation of the power and virtues of Dainichi Buddha, one of the 5 Transcendental Buddha I mentioned previously. (Source: MetMuseum)

In regards to their appearances, Fudō shares a remarkable resemblance to the deity depicted in Chapter 150. From his adornments, eyebrows, hair style, the prominent scowl etched into their faces and the long side braid (?) to the left of the face.

Aside from looks, let's talk about the prominent parallels between Umemiya and Fudō Myō-ō:

Origins. Both Ume and Fudō had to start over with their lives, with Ume losing his family due to a car accident and Fudō being stripped of his former godhood after converting to Buddhism. Despite these, they were able to work their way up so they'll be strong enough to protect what they valued the most.

Their roles. According to Schumacher in his page about Fudō,

"Fudō converts anger into salvation..."

- Schumacher, M., "Fudō Myō-ō"

"converts anger into salvation", that seems familiar- Oh wait.

Fudō and Ume are guides to enlightenment AND protectors. They themselves are symbols of safety in the eyes of those under their care.

Connections. While the Godai Myō-ō (Five Great Kings) aren't closely related to the Shitennō (Four Heavenly Kings) as the former rank far above the latter, there are similarities to be found. One is that both groups are in charge of the five directions, and yes five. The Shitennō is commanded by Taishakuten (帝釈天) who is the Lord of the Center. Relating this back to Ume and his Four Kings, it's interesting to note that the mangaka choose a higher ranking god to represent Ume rather than use Taishakuten. Perhaps to differentiate the power gap between Umemiya and his Four Kings?

Conclusion: I'm confident that Fudō Myō-ō is definitely the god representing Umemiya with the evidence I have gathered as well as several others have come to similar conclusions to the fact. It was really fun deep diving into this research for both Takiishi and Umemiya and with a clear head than the previous post, perhaps I'd like to make another one but of Tomiyama and Togame (The Hare & The Tortoise) or Sakura and Sugshita (The Tiger & The Dragon). No promises though.

(P.S. I am not Japanese but I have been deeply interested in the culture and history. I do my best to use credible sources (both ENG and JPN) and give credit accordingly. However, I'm prone to slip ups so if there is anything that requires correction, notify me throught the post via reply/reblog.)

(P.S.S. I have a blog specifically made for wbk content for further post like this so feel free to visit me there @transient-winds )

#OKAY ITS DONE #*dies promptly*#see what happens when im not running on no sleep & food #umemiya the man u are #i understand the appeal tsubakino #wind breaker #wind breaker nii satoru #wind breaker chapter 150 #umemiya hajime #hajime umemiya #takiishi chika #chika takiishi #umemiya vs takiishi fight

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cnnmairoll · 1 year ago

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An Enchanting White Day

Character(s) : Jing Yuan, Dan Heng, Gepard, March 7th Genre : Fluff a/n : Starting to get a hang on writing multiple charas and hsr! This fic was inspired by the official white day fanfic hyv posted, I added march just because :3 But also, this is the first time I've written for a female chara! so feel free to give me a feedback!

Jing Yuan, A Handmade Connection on White Day

It was that time of year again, a month after the sweet chaos of Valentine's Day had settled down, leaving behind a lingering air of anticipation and excitement. The city of Xianzhou was bustling with preparation for White Day, a day when people would reciprocate the tokens of affection they had received just a month prior. Among the many hearts that fluttered with excitement, yours beat with a particular rhythm, for you had a special connection with none other than Jing Yuan, the revered general of the Cloud Knights within the Xianzhou Alliance.

Jing Yuan, an enigmatic figure known for his strength, wisdom, and grace, was a man who had captured not only the respect of his subordinates but also the hearts of countless admirers.His tall and commanding presence, paired with his striking white hair and golden eyes, made him a beacon of attraction. Among the many admirers he had, you stood out as someone who held a unique connection with him.

Valentine's Day had come and gone, leaving behind a trail of gifts and sweet tokens from his countless admirers. You, having a special bond with Jing Yuan, were no exception. Among the sea of presents that had been sent his way, yours stood out not only because of its intrinsic value but also because of the genuine connection you shared.

As White Day dawned, the atmosphere within the Cloud Knights' headquarters was charged with activity. Soldiers and aides bustled around, arranging gifts to be distributed to those who had showered Jing Yuan with tokens of their affection. It was a tradition that he appreciated and understood, the significance of reciprocating the feelings that had been expressed.

But amidst the orchestrated chaos, Jing Yuan's focus remained unwaveringly fixed on you. He knew that amidst the throng of admirers, it was your connection that was most precious. As the flurry of activity settled, he made his way to you, a small smile gracing his lips.

Amidst the bustling Cloud Knights' headquarters, you felt a gentle tap on your shoulder, and you turned to find Jing Yuan standing there, his presence commanding even amidst the commotion. His long white hair was elegantly tied into a ponytail with a red ribbon, and his golden eyes held a warmth that was reserved for you alone.

"Happy White Day," he greeted in his characteristic composed tone, the words carrying a deeper meaning as he handed you a carefully wrapped box. His fingers brushed against yours for a brief moment, sending a subtle jolt of warmth through your veins.

"Thank you," you replied, your voice tinged with a mix of surprise and gratitude as you accepted the gift.

Jing Yuan's smile widened slightly, as if he had predicted your response. "I made this especially for you. I thought it would be a fitting gift."

With his words, your curiosity grew, and you carefully unwrapped the box, revealing a small, exquisitely crafted bracelet. Its design was delicate, yet its intricate patterns spoke of the effort that had gone into its creation. It was a testament to the precision and care that Jing Yuan put into everything he did.

"It's beautiful," you breathed, your fingers brushing over the beads and threads, marveling at the craftsmanship.

Jing Yuan's expression held a mix of pride and satisfaction as he watched your reaction. "I'm glad you like it. I thought you might appreciate something handmade, something that carries a piece of my own efforts."

As you held the bracelet in your hands, you couldn't help but feel a warmth spreading within you. It was as if the bracelet carried a piece of Jing Yuan's essence, a tangible reminder of the bond you shared. You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his in a moment that felt like a private exchange amidst the bustling surroundings.

"Jing Yuan, I…" you began, searching for the right words to convey the depth of your feelings.

He held up a hand, his smile tender. "No need for words. Our connection speaks for itself. Every connection I've made here is important," Jing Yuan confessed softly, his voice carrying an unspoken depth of emotion. "But ours... it's unique."

In that instant, the world around you seemed to blur, and it was just you and Jing Yuan, bound by an understanding that went beyond words. As White Day continued around you, the exchange of gifts and expressions of affection unfolding, your heart remained tethered to the general's presence, to the handmade bracelet adorning your wrist.

Dan Heng, Unveiling Affections on White Day

You never really thought much about romance when it came to Dan Heng. He always carried himself with an air of quiet mystery, a stoic guardian of the Astral Express. But beneath that cool exterior, there was something more, something you were fortunate enough to witness. You knew the real Dan Heng, the one who was unexpectedly sweet and sentimental when no one else was around.

Valentine's Day had been a pleasant surprise. You had gifted Dan Heng a carefully chosen dark bitter chocolate and a quill pen that he could use during his quiet moments. He might not have been a fan of sweets, but his appreciation for the thoughtful gesture was evident in the way his eyes softened as he accepted the gifts. He had thanked you in his usual reserved manner, and you had both continued with your routines on the Astral Express.

Little did you know, Dan Heng had been researching the concept of White Day. He wasn't one to be caught unprepared, especially when it came to showing his gratitude and reciprocating your kindness. The idea of making homemade sweets had been discarded quickly, knowing his culinary skills were far from impressive. Instead, he delved into the databank that held information about you, hoping to find a suitable gift.

However, delving into the databank wasn't as simple as he thought. Sure, there were records of your preferences, hobbies, and favorite things, but Dan Heng realized that there was so much more to you than just the data. He recalled all the times you had shared stories during your hangout sessions—your dreams, your fears, your adventures aboard the Astral Express. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that he wanted to give you something that reflected the depth of your connection.

Days turned into nights as Dan Heng immersed himself in his research. He began to notice the small things about you that others might overlook—the way your eyes lit up when you spoke about your favorite books, the times when you helped crew members with their tasks without expecting anything in return. Slowly, a plan began to take shape in his mind, one that would require more effort and time than he had initially anticipated.

As White Day drew nearer, Dan Heng found himself working in secret whenever he had a spare moment. He reached out to crew members who possessed certain skills, and he even sought assistance from the conductor themself, Pom Pom. The crew members were surprised by his uncharacteristic requests, but they could see the determination in his eyes, and they agreed to help.

On the morning of White Day, Dan Heng's room had transformed into a makeshift workshop. Various materials were strewn across the table, and he meticulously put the finishing touches on a project he had been working on for days. A knock on the door interrupted his concentration, and he quickly arranged everything to appear as inconspicuous as possible.

When you entered his room, he greeted you with a calm smile, his usual demeanor in place. You exchanged greetings, and then he gestured toward a modest-looking box on the table. "I have something for you," he said, his tone composed.

Curiosity piqued, you approached the box and opened it to find a beautifully crafted journal. Its cover was adorned with intricate designs reminiscent of the Astral Express's elegant interior. Inside, the pages were thick and high-quality, inviting you to fill them with your thoughts, memories, and adventures.

"It's a journal," Dan Heng explained, his gaze steady. "I know you enjoy recording your experiences and thoughts. I asked for help from our crew members to create this. Each page is handcrafted, and I thought it might be a fitting way for you to continue documenting your journey aboard the Astral Express."

You were touched beyond words. The effort he had put into this gift was evident, and it spoke volumes about his feelings. With a smile that held a mixture of gratitude and warmth, you looked up at him. "Dan Heng, this is incredible. Thank you so much."

He nodded, his eyes softening for a moment before he regained his composure. "I'm glad you like it."

As you held the journal in your hands, you realized that this wasn't just a gift—it was a testament to the depth of your connection with Dan Heng. He might have seemed reserved and distant to others, but you had seen the effort he had put into understanding you, appreciating you, and finding a way to express his feelings in a language that he wasn't accustomed to.

As the two of you spent the day together, you shared stories, laughter, and newfound closeness. The handcrafted journal became symbols of the bond that continued to grow stronger between you. White Day had not only been a celebration of reciprocated gifts, but a celebration of the unique and heartfelt connection that existed between you and Dan Heng—the guardian of secrets who had chosen to reveal his most precious secret of all: his affection for you.

Gepard Landau, A Blooming Bond on White Day

As the month of White Day drew closer, Gepard found himself in a rather peculiar predicament. It had been two weeks since you had presented him with a homemade sweet for Valentine's Day, and despite his reputation as an outstanding warrior of Belobog and the captain of the Silvermane Guards, he was utterly flustered. What could he possibly give you in return that would match the sincerity of your gift?

He had sought advice from his sisters, Serval and Lynx, who had teased him mercilessly about his predicament. They'd seen their usually stalwart and composed brother turn into a bundle of nerves, all because of a heartfelt gesture from you. After all, Gepard was meticulous and vigilant by nature, and his straightforward honesty was as much his strength as his weakness.

Gepard's hobbies included a somewhat unsuccessful attempt at growing flowers. It was a less-known fact about him, as most people only saw the warrior in him. He pondered the idea of gifting you a bouquet of flowers he had cultivated himself, but his first attempt had gone awry, leaving him without enough time to grow another suitable arrangement.

Though there was a reputable flower shop in Belobog's town, Gepard hesitated to resort to a simple purchase. He yearned to offer you something that would reflect the depth of his emotions, something that transcended mere material exchange.

The day of White Day arrived, and Gepard positioned himself near the city district during his off-duty hours. His heart raced as he anticipated your arrival, hoping he had made the right choice. When he finally saw you approaching, a warm blush spread across his fair cheeks, and he greeted you with a mixture of eagerness and shyness.

With a soft yet nervous smile, he presented you with a neatly wrapped box. His blue eyes held a sincere intensity as he explained his dilemma. He admitted that he had agonized over what to give you, unsure if he could match the sweetness of your Valentine's Day gift. His voice held an endearing touch of vulnerability as he confessed his feelings.

You accepted the box with curiosity and began to unwrap it carefully. Inside, nestled within delicate tissue paper, was a dried flower delicately preserved. Its petals held an array of soft pastel colors, and it exuded a faint but pleasant fragrance. Gepard's voice trembled slightly as he explained that it was a flower he had cultivated himself, albeit through a process of trial and error.

"This flower... it's not as vibrant as the ones in the shop, but it's a symbol of my feelings for you," he admitted, his cheeks flushing a deeper shade of pink. "I wanted to give you something that would last, just like my feelings for you."

Your heart swelled with emotion as you listened to Gepard's heartfelt words. The sincerity in his eyes and the vulnerable honesty in his voice touched you in a way that words couldn't fully describe. The dried flower, though delicate and seemingly fragile, felt like a tangible representation of his affection, enduring through time just like the sentiment he held for you.

You reached out, your fingers grazing his hand gently as you met his gaze with a soft smile. "Gepard, this is more beautiful and meaningful than any bouquet could ever be. It's a testament to your care and dedication, and that means more to me than you can imagine."

A mixture of relief and joy flickered in Gepard's eyes, his worry dissipating like morning mist. He was not one to easily express his emotions, but in that moment, his gratitude and happiness radiated from him. His lips curved into a genuine smile, and the vulnerability he had shown earlier only added to his charm.

"I'm glad you like it," he said, his voice steady but warm. "I wanted to show you how much you mean to me, even if I struggle with all these... romantic things."

Your laughter bubbled up at his self-deprecating tone. "Gepard, your sincerity speaks louder than any grand gesture. And the fact that you tried, despite your worries, means the world to me."

As you continued to chat, your conversation flowed easily, both of you sharing stories and insights that brought you closer together. Gepard's guard seemed to lower further, revealing the endearing dorkiness that only a few were privileged to witness. You discovered shared interests and teased each other playfully, enjoying the easy camaraderie that had developed between you.

With the sun beginning to dip below the horizon, Gepard checked the time and reluctantly admitted, "I have duty tomorrow morning, so I should probably head back soon."

Your heart sank slightly at the thought of parting, but you nodded, understanding his responsibilities. "Of course. Duty calls, after all."

Gepard's blue eyes held a hint of regret, but he mustered a determined smile. "I promise we'll have more time together soon. Maybe we can even work on my flower-growing skills together."

You chuckled, appreciating his enthusiasm even in the face of his admitted lack of expertise. "I'd be honored to help you nurture flowers, Gepard. Who knows, we might end up with a garden full of stories."

As you said your goodbyes and watched Gepard walk away, the dried flower brooch glinted in the fading light, a constant reminder of the connection you had forged. White Day might have been about reciprocating gifts, but what you and Gepard had shared was something far more precious—an exchange of hearts, vulnerabilities, and the promise of a blooming future together.

March 7th, Captured Moments of White Day

It was a crisp March morning, and the anticipation in the air was almost palpable. March had been planning something special for you. White Day was here, and while the exchange of Valentine's Day gifts had left a warmth in your heart, March was determined to make this day just as unforgettable.

March had put so much thought into this day, carefully considering what would make you smile. She was a spirited and quirky young woman, known for her love of photography and her penchant for all things adorable. She had a reputation for being creative, and today was no exception.

As you stood there, March approached you with a playful twinkle in her pink and blue eyes. "Are you ready for your White Day surprise?" she asked, her voice a mixture of excitement and nerves. She gently tied a blindfold around your eyes and took your hand, leading you through a series of twists and turns until you reached her room.

With a flourish, March removed the blindfold, revealing her meticulously planned surprise. The room appeared the same, yet different – there was a box waiting for you, its presence a tantalizing mystery. With curiosity piqued, you reached out and slowly lifted the lid.

The sides of the box gracefully fell away, revealing layers upon layers of polaroid photos. Each image captured a moment, frozen in time – a candid shot of you laughing, a snapshot of a shared meal, a stolen glance that spoke volumes. You couldn't help but be touched by the effort March had put into preserving these memories.

But the surprises didn't end there. Delicate, hand-crafted butterflies in shades of pink and blue fluttered out of the box, a testament to March's creativity and attention to detail. These butterflies carried her signature colors, a symbol of her thoughtfulness and care. They danced around the room before settling near you, as if inviting you to partake in the magic of the moment.

Turning to face March, you were met with her beaming smile. She held out a bouquet of your favorite snacks, an array of treats that she had carefully selected just for you. "Happy White Day!" she exclaimed, her enthusiasm contagious.

You accepted the bouquet with a grateful smile, marveling at the variety of treats she had chosen. From savory to sweet, it was as if March had compiled a treasure trove of your most cherished indulgences. "This is amazing, March," you said, genuinely touched by her thoughtfulness.

She beamed with pride, her eyes sparkling with delight. "I'm so glad you like it! I wanted to make sure you had a little bit of everything you love."

As you both settled into the room, surrounded by the fluttering butterflies and the scattered polaroid memories, March gestured to the photos that adorned the space. "Each of those photos holds a special moment," she explained, her voice tinged with nostalgia. "I wanted to capture the moments that make us, well, us."

You found yourself drawn to the images, each one telling a story of your time together. There was a candid snapshot of you helping March pick flowers in the park, a mischievous grin on both your faces. Another photo showed the two of you caught in a fit of laughter during a movie night, a shared bowl of popcorn between you.

"Remember this one?" March pointed to a photo where you were both attempting to bake a cake, flour smudges on your faces and the kitchen a delightful mess.

You chuckled, the memory coming back to you in a rush. "How could I forget? We turned the kitchen into a battlefield that day."

March laughed wholeheartedly, the sound filling the room with warmth. "Yeah, but we had so much fun, didn't we?"

It was moments like these that made your connection with March so special. The ability to share laughter, create memories, and embrace each other's quirks was a testament to the bond you had built.

As you sat down together, the snacks spread out before you, March suddenly spoke up "I hope White Day feels as wonderful for you as it does for me," she admitted, her gaze meeting yours.

"It's more wonderful than I could have imagined," you replied, sincerity lacing your words. "And that's all thanks to you, March."

The two of you spent the rest of the afternoon sharing stories, indulging in the treats, and relishing in the comfort of each other's company. With each passing moment, you realized that March had managed to create a White Day that was uniquely tailored to your connection, one that celebrated your journey together.

As the day drew to a close, the room was bathed in the soft hues of the setting sun. March looked at you with a mixture of contentment and affection. "I'm so glad I could make this day special for you," she confessed, her voice filled with genuine emotion.

"You did more than that," you assured her, your heart swelling with gratitude. "You made this day unforgettable."

March leaned in, her eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. In that moment, it felt as though the world had faded away, leaving only the two of you in a cocoon of shared emotions.

With a gentle touch, March's lips met yours, a sweet and tender kiss that spoke volumes. It was a kiss filled with gratitude, love, and the promise of many more moments to come. When you finally pulled away, you could see the affection in March's eyes, a reflection of the connection that had blossomed between you.

"Happy White Day," she whispered, her voice a soft melody that resonated in your heart.

"Happy White Day, March," you replied, your voice equally tender.You knew that this White Day would forever remain etched in your memory as a celebration of love, shared moments, and the beautiful journey you were embarking on together.

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sweetpandorabox · 1 year ago

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Blood Purity - Draco Malfoy x Female Reader (Part 1)

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨sweetpandorabox୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎…⋙

Synopsis: Keeping your family's Blood Purity and having high values when it comes to Intelligence and wisdom, is a duty and a sacred tradition all your family members of all generations have to follow. Getting sorted into Ravenclaw proving your worth, and following in your ancestor's footsteps, and keeping an Outstanding grade all the way through in Hogwarts kept your parents happy and proud, but not yet joyful. After 7 years of your Hogwarts journey coming to an end, they expect you to marry into a powerful pure-blooded family. As they take matters into their own hands your parents arranged a marriage for you based on a deal, to a boy who came from a powerful and pure-blooded family who you've despised for years.

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Female Reader

Story Setting: The story is set in the year the 2000s, 2 years after the Battle of Hogwarts takes place, you and Draco were born in the 80s which would make the two of you around 20 years old in this Fanfiction. (anything in italic and bolded is a flashback scene btw)

Terms 📖:

Y/N - Your name

Y/H/C - Your hair color

Y/E/C - Your eye color

Warnings⚠️: Forced Proximity, Arguments, Bullying, Swearing and Slight Sexual Themes.

A/N: Hey cuties, sorry I've been gone for a while but I'm finally back, I wanted to start writing for Draco Malfoy because I actually love him, he's my 2nd Favorite Harry Potter boy and thought a forced proximity trope would be good and it would fit so well with the life he had in the Harry Potter books, but yeah I hope you enjoy this one I'm not used to writing something with a darker atmosphere and a more mature fanfiction here but I'm trying lol. love you. xx

Word Count: 1,959

The warm fireplace distributes its warm heat throughout the Malfoy Manor's dining hall, saving you from the cool winds of spring outdoors. The sounds of a crackling fire, quiet chatters, and sounds of cutlery being used against the delicate china plates plastered with grey floral designs played harmonically in your ear as you kept your eyes glued down on your plate of food, putting on a somewhat neutral face toying around with the contains you've been served without taking a single bite. "Y/N, at around 11pm tomorrow, you'll have to meet me and Narcissa at Sinclair's Weddings at Diagon Alley, it's for your dress fitting" your mother mentioned with a proud smile peeking through her lips, you raised your head up, and face to your right with a confused look watching your Mother takes a bite of her food, "But Mother, we've only been engaged for two weeks?" you asked with suspense trailing behind your voice, "Oh don't be silly Y/N, you and Draco are perfect for each other, it isn't worth waiting any longer," she replies sharing a smile with Narcissa from across the table as Narcissa did vise versa, "And besides everything has been taken care off, like the official date, venue, the food, the guest. You and Draco will love it" she continued. As silence roams back to the dinner table everyone continues to eat, you take a moment to pause and shift your gaze across the table to the blonde boy, focusing his pair of striking grey eyes solely on his food keeping his mouth shut and his head low.

You watched as he eyed down his food, showing no interest in anyone else taking a mouthful bite. Draco Lucius Malfoy goes far beyond your earliest memories of Hogwarts, known to be a bully and a Slytherin prince he paints a picture of himself as a snob and vile evil person, yet cowardice who enjoys taunting others for his own amusement, he gets anything and everything he wants no matter the circumstances as well. You kept to yourself most of the time during your Hogwarts years as a quiet and reserved Ravenclaw, having friends from all 4 houses and not favoring one over the other, you treated everybody equally, overlooking their blood status despite your family's belief, in 4th year however you've taken fond of Ronald Weasley who came from a pure-blooded yet poor family, you started dating him for 2 years but you don't find it easy in the slightest, as constant tournament form Draco swarms over you and Ron, he'd make snarky comments about you and the blood traitor as he calls him. Regular filthy stares came from Draco if you and Ron would show any amount of affection towards each other, because if it wasn't the harsh/shameful comments or filthy stares, Draco always finds another way to break whatever the two of you had.

"So I take it you'll be coming to my manor tomorrow night, make sure you put on that royal blue slip-on dress you always wear, you know the one with the sweetheart neckline, I find it quite alluring" Draco commented as he circle you with his minions chuckling, giving you a smirk and a playful wink. Ron stares in confusion between the two of you, realizing what had just happened you hold on to Ron's wrist, dragging him away quickly from the trio making sure you master up the dirtiest look you can give to the blonde boy, bumping his shoulder as you walk past fiercely drowning the sounds of wicked laughter behind you down. After the past event, Ron grew suspicious and demanded answers to what Draco meant earlier, not wanting to argue with your then-boyfriend you had no choice but to reveal a secret that nobody else knew about, "Ron, please just listen to me... The Malfoys and The Callahan have always been a close-knit group due to their mutual obsession over blood purity. Malfoy's mother and mine happen to be best of friends ever since their Hogwarts years, we have dinner parties with the Malfoys once every fortnight, that's all he meant by that...and since Christmas break is coming up, Draco and I will be home so it seems to be the perfect opportunity to have one in awhile... that's all I promise," you pleaded with guilt. Learning that information made Ron angry, as he decided to keep himself from you for days after that.

3 days have passed since Ron has last spoken to you, growing tired of his ignorance, you march up to the Slytherin table angrily, you scan the Slytherin table for a bleach-blonde head full of hair, and as you spot him you dash right over "Can I talk to you for a minute?" You ask, crossing your arm in frustration, matching the facial expression you displayed. Draco smirks, wasting no time and trails behind you as he leaves his group of unbothered Slytherins. You both settled outside the quiet hallway, leaving the great hall behind before you converse, "Malfoy, I really don't appreciate the comment you made 3 days ago... I mean, what are you honestly trying to do? Can't you see I'm happy?" you huffed out in frustration looking up at the tall figure, as his grey eyes pierced down at your small frame, he paused taken aback by your frustration before scoffing "What am I trying to do?... What am I trying to do? you're really asking that Callahan? he's a blood traitor. You can do so much better than that filthy Gryffindor... when are you going to realize your family would never accept him for who he is" he commented, without realizing how close he was getting to you, you backed up into the stone-cold wall, keeping eye contact with him, as he rests one of his hand on the wall by your head pinning you down.

Tensions spike up high between the two of you as your body comes closer and closer together. "When are you going to realize that your happiness could be right in front of you this whole time?" Draco blurted leaning his soft face closer to you and tilting his head, your cheek changed its shade into crimson red before you broke eye contact hearing footsteps walking away to your left cutting the tight tension, you watched as your loving boyfriend stormed away from what he'd seen, You panicked as he kept going never to look back at you, "Ron...Ron come back" you pleaded, pushing Draco away from you as you run after the Weasley boy leaving Malfoy on his own. The next day Ron breaks it off with you quick, for the very first time you feel as though you aren't worthy of any happiness as your heartbreak drives you into despair, you miss out on meals, frequently find yourself sobbing, and eventually watch as Ron fell in love with Hermione, from that day on you swore to yourself that you despise and hated Draco Malfoy and you will never change your mind about him. The sudden flashback made you fidgety as you smoothed out your old silky royal blue, slip-on dress. The one you've had since you were a teenager not having grown much physically making it fit you like a glove. After dinner has ended, you join your family in expressing their gratitude for the delicious meal and farewells to the Malfoys, completely ignoring Draco as he seems to do with you anyway. You embrace your future mother-in-law Narcissa warmly as she does vice versa and give your future father-in-law Lucious a firm yet polite smile as he smiles back and nods to show his understanding.

Dobby the house elf clicked his finger towards the grand, wooden double door to open it revealing an exit point for you, and your parents finally departing away from the Malfoy manor as you Apparate back to your own mansion, located not far from your fiancé's, ending the night in a blur as you quickly try and sleep it off in order to mentally prepare yourself for the dress fitting your mother and your mother in law has so wonderfully booked and plan. After the battle of Hogwarts took place in 1998 you went back to Hogwarts to finish your 7th year around the same time as Hermione Granger did, making sure you have all the qualifications needed to find the best job that the Wizarding World offers, even if a job isn't necessary for you to have because of the amount money your family has inherited over generations. During the battle of Hogwarts, you weren't actually present at all, since Narcissa warns your mother about the secret attack and plans that the Dark Lord schemes for Potter and how dangerous this war is, so she advised your mother to keep you home and not let you return for your 7th year, and although Narcissa isn't supportive of the Dark Lord at all she is supportive of her Husband and Son, so she has to be present there, but it doesn't mean she can't warn her best friend, your mother, and her family to stay safe and not partake in the war whatsoever and to let it pass you. So that's what your mother and father agreed on doing, keeping you home after explaining the circumstances to you.

Your eyes started to glimmer as salty tears started to fog up your vision, you were distraught by the news and realized that the people you care about over at Hogwarts like your friends and some of the professors who had made a real impact on you might potentially lose their lives over this war. You wanted to help badly, you wanted to be there to protect the ones you care about, but your parents will never allow it as they fear the worst and might end up losing their one and only child, so you slump and cry over it for days in your grand mansion until you've heard the news a week later that most people have survived the war including the Malfoy's and that the Dark Lord was finally conquered. It took a while, but Hogwarts was rebuilt soon after that, and once September rolled back around Hogwarts was ready to bring in young witches and wizards who were ready to embark on their early education, and even welcome those who were not able to finish their last year back with open arms. You studied hard and kept very much focused on all your classes to the point where your NEWT marks show only Outstanding grades all across, simply showering your parents with great pride and joy to have you as their daughter. This time around you sort of hated the idea of leaving school after graduating, Hogwarts was a nicer and much simpler place without some knucklehead like Draco Malfoy running around taunting people or trying to pull your pisser almost every day to annoy and ruin your schooling experience.

You enjoyed your time at Hogwarts without him, but you do tend to wonder if he was alright, or how he's doing or coping after the war. Your mother and father haven't gotten in touch with the Malfoy for a couple of months now as they went into hiding in their own mansion and kept quiet to themselves, laying low in order to keep them from trouble with the Ministry as they potentially find out the ties that the Malfoy family had with the Dark Lord, so for a while, there weren't many connections between the Callahan's and the Malfoy's, a period of time where you enjoyed life as it is because the one person you truly despise and hated is gone from your life, just like you wanted it too.

Taglist : @igncrantbliss @milivanili99 @nighttimemoonlover @el-de-phi

!Click here for part 2!

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bird-inacage · 1 year ago

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CALL ME BY FIRE (SEASON 3): Participation of Jeff Satur

Now this has been the most uncanny crossover I never saw coming. A show I've been watching for years, and my introduction to thai BL which initially put Jeff's name on my radar. Here's some context for any fans who have heard of his participation and want to know more.

Call Me by Fire is a mainland Chinese TV competition show. They invite 33 established male celebrities with the goal to form an ultimate "boy band" by the show's conclusion. What tends to be the incredible pulling factor is they'll invite a combination of singers, musicians, actors, dancers, idols, presenters - incredibly well known faces in the industry - many of them hugely respected OGs in their field. (The demographic is usually late 20s+) so there's an intentional sense of maturity, experience and wisdom amongst the ensemble. The emphasis isn't really on forming this 'fictional' boy band, it acts as a mechanism for us to get more up close and personal with these artists. Allowing viewers to appreciate their creative genius, as well as who they are as people.

This show came as a spin off of another series 'Sisters Who Make Waves' which has the exact same premise but for female celebrities. Because it became such an instant hit, they made a male version shortly after.

As a Chinese speaker, I've been watching both shows since they started in 2020. Both are in their third season (with Call Me by Fire broadcasting right now). This year they've decided to include more participants (of mainly Chinese/Asian descent) from America, Korea, Japan, Vietnam and Thailand - along with the majority from China, Hong Kong and Taiwan.

Why I find this show both incredibly entertaining and compelling is because you get to watch spectacular collaborations between some of the most talented artists of this generation, and witness them embark on a journey of brotherhood through a shared love for performance (they live, work and perform together for the duration of the show). For me, theres also a massive nostalgia factor, because a large portion of these artists will be people I grew up watching.

There will be a lot of new attention on this show due to the Jeff's involvement (whose dubbed ‘Luo Jie Fu’ in Chinese). We’re only on Episode 2, and he's already making a huge impression, earning one of two MVPs spots after their first live performance - his group ranking 2nd out of 8, and his personal ranking being 7th overall (based on the live audience popularity vote).

The show is uploaded onto Youtube in full (post-broadcast on a Saturday). Just to warn you, the episodes are usually very, very long (sometimes between 2-3 hours in total), but I personally really enjoy that. There are English subtitles but the translations don’t always capture the nuances.

Jeff is doing a superb job so far and he's very brave for taking this on. He brings something distinctly unique in his showmanship and personal sense of style. It's a daunting prospect for someone who can't speak or understand Chinese, but the other brothers are doing their best to help him feel as welcome and settled in as possible.

If anyone has any questions about the show or clips featuring Jeff they'd like to know more about, I'm more than happy to translate.

#call me by fire #call me by fire s3 #jeff satur #chinese tv #how much charisma does jeff have?#YES #yes to everything basically #the boy was born to perform

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jackwolfes · 2 months ago

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I've been reading smut for nine years so you'd think I'd be able to at least write a little bit of it, right? And yet, the minute it comes to even a kiss scene I get all uncomfy and just can't do it. Lately I've been coming up with so many smut scenes I wanna write but I keep second guessing myself and feeling all embarrassed. Any words of wisdom from a smut veteran like yourself?

i've shared some advice on this in more detail before and also here but the key question i'd ask yourself is: why

like. why are you embarrassed writing smut. why THIS and not writing fluff or whump or very elaborate longfics. because smut is at the end of the day any other type of writing, with just as much feeling and action and weird messy fluids.

"sex is taboo and shameful and i've got catholic guilt" - so fair, we live in a society. but also, sex is natural and a 100% morally neutral act. i'd be surprised if this wasn't underlying some part of the embarrassment but at a certain point, if this is the key thing holding you back, you might just need to sit down and consider whether you want the hegemonic bastards that suck the dick of advertisers and snuff out any sort of difference to be the thing holding you back from what is already a transgressive weirdo hobby. accept that if this is your biggest sticking point, you might not be ready to jump straight into writing a graphic monsterfucking piss play orgy and might have to start with heavy petting and missionary that's more feelings and "i love you"s than descriptions of genitals. and maybe you need to write 10,000 kissing scenes first to build up the courage to write the word "cock", but that's never going to be wasted time. there's no race. you don't need to jump straight in.

"fear of being perceived" - you are the arbiter of who sees this. you can post it anonymously, you can post this under a sock puppet account you made with a completely different email, you can wait until youve written 5 million words and post it all at once, you can literally never ever ever ever ever post it ever. but don't not write it because of an audience that doesn't even exist yet.

"fear of being cancelled for writing something weird" - the ao3 block button is a beautiful, beautiful feature. if someone reads something they don't like, what are they going to do? nark in your comments? whine? launch a smear campaign? fuck em. you should practice good internet safety to avoid getting doxx'd anyway, and if you do literally the only thing they can do is complain, which means all you have to do to get them to shut up is block them

"i like what i'm writing a Bit Too Much and don't know how to process that" - 1) self indulgence is the fucking shit but also 2) the writing is the processing it. writing is a tool that can help you identify the things that get you hot or your underlying opinions on the concept of intimacy and love. and dear god it's fucking awful to be vulnerable but the benefit is very very worth it. also no one's gonna know if you have a wank because you wrote a fic so hot you turned yourself on unless you tell them, so if that's how you gotta process it, then that's between you and god

"it's going to be bad" - it will unfortunately continue to be bad without practice.

if it wasn't immediately obvious from this answer, the only reason i ever got to 'smut veteran' stage was because i got really really fucking shameless about a lot of things, including the fact that i cannot say sexual things out loud, sometimes turn bright red while writing smut, and have still been known to get so embarrassed by a fic that i have to slam my laptop shut and put it away because i can't cope. and i think that part of writing anything that makes you feel that way is acknowledging that 1) you're strong enough to get through that discomfort and 2) a little bit of discomfort is probably worse than not writing anything at all

#anyway i am obsessed with the title of “smut veteran” im going to say it forever #asks #uthers-bald-head #my first smut fic is still on ao3 and im sure it's awful but i refuse to reread it #advice #long post

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stellae-de-baphometis · 2 years ago

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Hello!! I am extremely new to demonolatry as I have very recently discovered it and I would like to know if you have any resources for beginners to read/watch that are helpful. Don’t worry about it if you don’t or if you simply don’t feel like it, I don’t mind!! Ty and have a nice day!!!!

Hey there! Terribly sorry for answering this so late. Xx So I've only been into Daemonolatry for about a year now, though I have learnt a lot thus far and I'd be more than happy to share some really important pointers to aid you in walking this path. ^.^

⭒☆·━━━━━━━•( 🌑 )•━━━━━━━·☆⭒

So first and foremost before I get into the main blogpost, I really cannot stress this enough...

Please educate yourself on closed practices and steer clear of cultural appropriation in your personal practises. There are a group of people in the Daemonolatry community who appropriate the heck out of Jewish daemons, especially Lilith. Judaism is a closed practise and therefore it's only respectful to not incorporate Judaism into your personal practises. Appropriating Judaism is actually a form of anti-Semitism, so please be mindful and respectful of these things! 🖤

I'm ashamed to admit this but I actually used to think it was completely fine to appropriate Jewish daemons last year, thanks to subreddits like r/DemonlatryPractices who would constantly try to push propaganda about Lilith being a "Mesopotamian Pagan Goddess" and other excuses for appropriating her. That same subreddit decided to attack me when I merely mentioned (on a completely different subreddit, mind you) that I disagreed with them appropriating Lilith, and in turn I got witch-hunted so that's great lmao. 🤡

Please avoid that subreddit at all costs, it's an absolute cesspit of cultural appropriation and passive anti-Semitism, and honestly they exhibit cult-like behaviour if you do so much as simply disagree with the appropriation of Jewish daemons. It's pretty disturbing... But yeah anyways sorry for rambling lol.

I'd also recommend avoiding people and organisations such as S. Connolly, V.K. Jehannum, Satan & Suns/Sons, BlackWitchCoven, The BecomeALivingGod Forum, The Satanic Temple, Joy Of Satan Ministries, The Order Of Nine Angles, scarletarosa (a user that literally exists here on Tumblr... yikes), etc. They engage in Jewish appropriation, and some of them even have ties to Nazism, racism, and other forms of bigotry too.

Some other Jewish daemons/spirits that you should avoid appropriating alongside Lilith are; Naamah, Agrat Bat Mahalath, Eisheth Zenunim, Samael, Abyzou, and the Grigori / Watcher Angels.

There are many other closed practices too, but if you'd like to do further research I can leave that up to you. ^.^

Okay sorry about that huge ramble lmao, just thought I would get that out of the way before getting into the main post because I think it's an important point to make and I don't want you to fall down a cultural appropriation apologist pipeline like I did at the beginning of my practise lol. Xx

Anyways, let's talk about The Infernal Divine!

+: GIF Credit :+

⭒☆·━━━━━━━•( 🌑 )•━━━━━━━·☆⭒

So we'll start with some really basic stuff. What exactly are daemons?

It's not commonly known outside of Daemonolatry that daemons themselves actually predate Christianity. The term 'demon' (alternatively spelled 'daemon') comes from the word 'daimon' which originates way back in Greek mythology. Daimons were a type of tutelary deity as well as guiding spirit whose divine nature was that of both mortals and deities. They were also sometimes regarded as bringers of knowledge, wisdom, and destiny. In this sense, they could be considered deities in their own right.

Contrary to popular belief, daemons are not evil and never were to begin with. It was only until the coming of Christianity that daemons as well as other gods were vilified and ostracised due to the cultish, radical, monotheistic mindset a lot of Christian extremists held back in the day. Lucifer himself was a "demonized" Roman god also known as Phosphorus, associated with light and the planet Venus. From that description alone, I don't really get evil vibes lol.

In my opinion, our world cannot simply be split up into just black or white, and daemons are no exception. Daemons aren't evil, but they aren't completely love and light either; They're neutral. Much like humans as well as the universe itself, the Infernal Divine are various shades of grey, and all daemons are unique and differ in personality.

⭒☆·━━━━━━━•( 🌑 )•━━━━━━━·☆⭒

So with all this in mind, what are some good resources that don't endorse and/or engage in appropriation of closed practices?

The YouTube channels ESOTERICA and ReligionForBreakfast have great information on the history of various religions and practises!

~ Book Recommendations ~

Livre des Esperitz

Dictionnaire Infernal

Pseudomonarchia Daemonum

Pandemonium: A Discordant Concordance Of Diverse Spirit Catalogues

I personally am working towards being a daemonolatry resource myself, but I haven't been able to post much lately due to my mental health issues. I also took an active break last year, as it was pointed out by a friend of mine that my belief of thinking it was fine to appropriate closed practises was obviously problematic, and so I took time off from posting in order to educate myself and delete any problematic blog posts I had made endorsing that in the past.

But nonetheless, I hope that what I was able to provide in this post was helpful! I wish you well on your spiritual path. 🖤

❀ ~ Many Blessings ~ ❀

-Korv

#asks #daemonolatry info posts #demonolatry #daemonolatry #demonology #daemonology #paganism #pagan #witchblr #theistic satanism #satanism #spiritual satanism #theistic luciferianism #luciferian #daemons #demons #infernal gods #infernal divine

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motherofmisfits · 13 days ago

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hello, mother.

i have been struggling for a while with the push and pull of accepting myself as an angel. on one hand, i have felt that i am one for years, and i know the way i feel will continue, but on the other hand, i feel rather ashamed of myself to admit it. i feel that i am being too cocky by calling myself an angel, that i am claiming to be superior to those i know. i also feel that i have to be "pure" to be accepted into the space, which leaves me frozen, watching from the sidelines. i feel embarrassed at the prospect of accepting myself in this way, but i feel i must because i don't want to be stuck in a game of tug-of-war with myself forever.

so i ask you, do you have any tips to overcome this feeling? i'm sorry for dumping all of this onto you, but i spotted your blog and felt drawn to it.. so i impulsively decided to seek your advice. considering that angels and gods are in a similar sort of ballpark, i thought that you might be able to share some of your wisdom as it were.

thank you for taking the time to read this. 🌻

Hello, my dear angel.

I completely understand your struggle as I went through the same thing when accepting myself as a deity.

You don't have to be ashamed of calling yourself an angel. Doing so doesn't mean you think yourself higher than others, you are just calling yourself as you are. Saying you are beautiful doesn't mean you think you are more important or attractive than anyone else, now does it? Now, if you are having thoughts that you are better than others, here is a little thing I've learned to remind myself of. Your first thought is instinctual. It's the second thought that you can control. I've learned to make that distinction a while ago because of my intrusive thoughts. It's helpful in a lot of situations.

Besides, if you thought you were better, you wouldn't be so scared of doing so. You would just claim to be better. Don't worry, dear. Not to mention, a little boost to self-esteem is usually a good thing, if not too much.

As for being afraid of not being "pure," I'd recommend looking into different angels. Many are warriors, some even known for destruction. Some rebel against the gods, and some protect those they serve at all costs. They call it divine rage for a reason. It is divine just as it is rage. And while some deities and gods may not like to admit it, I will gladly admit I've made plenty of mistakes. Both in my current existence as a human, but also as a deity. Perfection is based on perception. What is the point of chasing it when others will never see it in you? Who do we let decide perfection? Don't cage yourself with the idea of "purity." There is no right way to be an angel and no right way to exist. Be yourself.

If you're still scared, dive in and start interacting with the community. That is what I did, and it has greatly helped me accept my deity self. You'll find plenty will greet you with open arms. Those who don't aren't worth your time. And their opinions don't matter. Every community has its gatekeepers and haters who try to dictate who is valid and who isn't. Don't listen to them. If you are an angel, you are an angel.

I do hope this helps. Identity is complicated enough without having to add in the complexities of coexistence with other beings. I hope you find and accept yourself. I'll be one of the ones greeting you into this community with open arms.

Have a blessed existence, angel.

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senualothbrok · 5 months ago

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Thinking of you and sending happy, hopeful, bright vibes over to you💕 (you can always message me if you want to chat)

How did you get into writing? You have such a beautiful style, I love to hear author's 'origin stories'.

What are some of your favourite books?

Aaaand what's something about you we may not know? 🌻♥️✨

💜🫂 Thank you lovely. I appreciate that so much. I am sending you the same, and the same offer obviously.

As for your juicy questions...

How did I get into writing?

I'm so honoured that you like my style. That is such high praise coming from a poet like yourself! 🥹 When I was a kid I loved reading and words and stories. My first "career ambition" was expressed at 9, I wanted to be an author! And when I was a teenager, I occasionally wrote stories, and I wrote loads of fanfic from 15-17 (it was a lifeline for me at that time too!). But I had really low self esteem so it was a struggle to maintain creativity alongside the self doubt and perfectionism, and trying to be A High Achiever and all the rest of it. So I lost the habit of writing. I did write some poems when I was in my early twenties, and blogged a fair bit, but didn't have the presence of mind to write stories. Life got in the way. I forgot that I have a writer's soul.

And then in 2021 I did a creative writing course, and started writing a novel on and off. I then got BG3 brainrot last year, the novel fell to the wayside (lol) because of fanfic, and now I'm here!

My novel is 2/3 of the way through, and I hope to one day finish it and get it published! I would like to be a full time writer eventually 💜

What are some of your favourite books?

Oh boy I love this question so much!!! This is a curated list.

* Circe by Madeline Miller

* The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller

She is my greatest influence. I hope to write like her one day! Every word she writes is poetry. So much wisdom and pain and beauty, so much economy in her writing. Her books have transformed me. I just love her work so much.

* The Greenlanders by Jane Smiley

I love the Icelandic sagas and this book basically reads like a real saga from the Viking age. It's incredible. Like something unearthed from the ancient depths.

*The Hours by Michael Cunningham

When I first read this book I felt like it illuminated a fundamental universal truth and cracked my soul open. I need to re-read it...

Some book series:

* A Song of Ice and Fire by George R.R. Martin

* The Witcher by Andrzei Sapowski

* The Southern Reach Trilogy by Jeff Vandermeer

All amazing, immersive, meticulous, expertly written. The first two are well known and beloved in fandom. The Southern Reach Trilogy is super weird and fucks with your head - Lovecraftian.

I am also a big fan of Sylvia Plath's poetry.

I'm sure there are more works I'm forgetting but I could go on and on!

Something about me you may not know

Umm I lose track of what I've shared online and what I haven't 🤣 um I guess I used to be an avid kickboxer/boxer! That's probably something semi exciting!

Thank you again my dear for letting me talk about myself and what I love. I feel more "real" and seen. 🫂💜 I'm so grateful.

Hope you're having a good day xxx

#ask #personal

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salamanderinspace · 2 months ago

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RE: last post

A number of people, starting with my parents when I was young, and including everyone up to my therapist and various sex workers I've known, have all told me the same thing: the only thing that helps when you're burning for someone like that is separation. Complete no-contact. And then, time heals all wounds. That's the advice.

However. I have found that, for me, this does almost nothing. I still burn and ache and cry almost as hard for the girl I loved when I was 14 as I did then. I think of my past loves every day. They're on my mind almost constantly, a lot of the time, unless I'm making an effort to be distracted. I told my psychiatrist this and her response was, "huh, that's weird. I've never heard of that." No further wisdom.

This creates something really horrible: a double bind. If I love someone who doesn't love me, getting close to them and being in their life is going to make me miserable. Being apart from them is also going to make me miserable. From what I've read, the double bind is a known method of inducing schizophrenia. It's also a tool of social control for cults and the ilk; it makes people confused, senseless. I've never found a way out of it.

I think the only thing that keeps me sane, sometimes, is letting myself be mad at the object of my desire. They do share half the blame for the situation; I am responsible for loving, but they are responsible for their lack of loving. If I can get mad enough it becomes a greater priority than the desire, and it also lessens it somehow. It's harder to love someone if you're pissed at their poor judgement.

#love #personal

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starseneyes · 1 year ago

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Ineffable Husbands / Aziracrow / Crowley x Aziraphale - Good Omens - A Thought

Y'all, I am super late to this fandom. But, I devoured both seasons like Aziraphale with a plate of ribs and then went back for seconds, and thirds.

Up until now, WayHaught has been my favorite queer ship, but these two adorable beings have slithered their way into my heart and flown into my mind.

I'm not planning to Meta these (I'm still behind on the Spapel finale, the Chenford REWINDS, and never even got to start Nace). But, I do have a thought that I can't get outta my head.

SPOILER ALERT: There's no removing this once it's in your system. I will be talking about both seasons. So, if you're still unspoiled (as I was until very recently), and want to stay that way, proceed no further.

Again, this isn't a full Meta. Just my own weird contribution to the conversation based on uneducated observation and fanatical attention to detail. I might be way off in my interpretation, but I haven't seen this thought discussed elsewhere, so I thought it should be said.

Ready? Let's dive in.

Aziraphale Feels Love

We establish early in Season 1 that Aziraphale is able to feel love. We don't know if all angels share this ability from the show (maybe the book-readers can tell in the comments), but we know he can.

He feels it when they go to the former Nunnery. He feels it when they're driving right before they run into Anathema. Aziraphale feels love.

And, yes, the book is in my TBR pile. I promised a friend to give them script notes, and I've told myself until I fulfill that promise, no other reading. So, soon enough I'll be caught up! But, in the meantime, I treasure the wisdom of those of you who've gone before.

I could wait to write this until later... but like Aziraphale after doing a good deed, I'm about to pop!

Anyway, we also see Aziraphale reveling in the ball and the pureness of the perception of the era. He loves a slow-moving romance spoken through kissing hands and whispered conversation. While Aziraphale has not experienced physical love, he's no stranger to the concept of love in its many facets.

Crowley/[Insert Angel Name Here] and Aziraphale have been doing a dance since before the Earth began. The first time they met, Aziraphale was immediately keen on him. And The-Angel-Futurely-Known-As-Crowley was happy to have someone to share in his moment of triumph.

If we look at the Bible, there's the idea of companionship—that humans were not meant to be alone. I would argue that the same could be said of our favorite eternal beings.

The-Angel-Futurely-Known-As-Crowley was trying to crank all this up by himself. It's not that he wasn't capable. He could've held the plans between his feet, or something. But, an angel happened by who was willing to stop and help—a pure heart eager to lend a hand.

That's where it started for them. And I argue that at the Eastern Wall, Crowley wasn't sure how he'd be received by Aziraphale... but he had to try. And being the angel he is, Aziraphale chose kindness toward the fallen angel.

By the time we reach 1941 (which sounds like a very critical year for these two), they've been through a lot. They've formed "our side" and Crowley's loneliness got a little more bearable while the weight of Aziraphale's conscious increased.

They've traded temptations and blessings, flipped coins, shared meals, supped and sipped. But in their last documented interaction before 1941—in 1862—they had a fight.

Crowley asked for Holy Water. For insurance. And Aziraphale's poor word choice led to their first real breakup (that we've seen.. 1650 and 1793 had the "I Was Wrong" dance, so they might've broken up, then, too, for all we know).

"Look, I've been thinking, what if it all goes wrong? We have a lot in common, you and me."

They're still not putting a label on it. These cutie-pies have been doing this for 6,000ish years and they still don't know what to call it.

Now, to be fair, they're doing this in secret knowing that if either side finds out they'll be destroyed. So, can't really blame 'em for not knowing what to call it.

"I don't know. We might have both started off as angels, but you are fallen."

Gee wiz, Aziraphale! I get that you have to ground yourself in your deeply instilled rote morality, but way to alienate the love of your life, dude!

"I need a favor." "We already have the Agreement, Crowley..."

Before, Aziraphale didn't want to put a label on that, either. Now, we saw back with Shakespeare that Crowley's the one who came up with that label.

But labeling aspects of their relationship is easy for Crowley. Labeling them is another thing entirely. And it's the last thing on Crowley's mind—this time he's actively asking for something outside the norm.

This is a new layer to their trust in one another. Crowley is asking Aziraphale to take a huge risk, and Aziraphale is mis-reading the situation.

"Out of the question." "Why not?" "It would destroy you. I'm not bringing you a suicide pill, Crowley." "That's not what I want it for."

They're talking past one another. Yes, I know this is classic them. But before the bickering can get much further, Aziraphale drops this on him:

"I'm not an idiot, Crowley. Do you know what trouble I'd be in if... if they knew I'd been fraternising?" ... "Fraternising?"

"Fraternising" applies to brotherhood and friendship. To this point, the only one we've seen call them "friends" was an outsider at the Theater. Neither of them has yet adopted the moniker "friend" when addressing the other or speaking conversationally about the other.

And, yes, we're going with the English spelling on this one. No, the characters aren't actually English. But they've both chosen English accents for their existence, so we're gonna roll with it.

"I have lots of other people to fraternise with, Angel." "Of course you do." "I don't need you." "And the feeling is mutual, obviously."

Of course these two idiots need each other. They're utterly alone in the world without one another—both aligned with a side... as far as they can go... but also with each other.

But Crowley is lashing out. Because he's not ready to put a label on this, and he has to keep himself distanced from Aziraphale and anyone associated with his former bosses.

And Aziraphale's fighting to maintain his very black-and-white view of good and evil, here, so as soon as Crowley seems ready to walk away, so is he. Though, we all know deep down neither of them truly want that.

In a fit of anger, Aziraphale flings the paper at the water. And, in an appropriate measure of response, the scrap obeys the laws of physics and flits down to the water rather than sinking into it like a thrown stone.

That's how we leave them (so far as we know)... at odds and decoupled in 1862.

Then comes 1941. The blissfully gullible angel has tried to do right and found himself in the snares of a trap. Bless his heart. (Yes, I'm a Southern Yank—which sounds contradictory, but I briefly studied at Leicester, so I know what my Uni mates'd call me)

"What are you doing here?"

The last interaction of which we're aware prior to this is the one where Crowley dramatically announced he didn't need Aziraphale, and our angel boy responded in kind.

So, while there have been many scrapes before where Crowley played hero to Aziraphale's damsel-in-distress, our angel wasn't awaiting rescue this time. He's genuinely surprised to see Crowley there.

But Crowley has had time in the in-between to consider their friendship and what it would mean to him if Aziraphale were to be discorporated, and if that would lead to him losing his place on Earth. Crowley can't have that.

Aziraphale assumes Crowley's there with the baddies. But, no, he's there for his angel.

"I just didn't want to see you embarrassed."

Watch Aziraphale soak that in. He turns his head to the left, away from Crowley, as he often does when confused or struck by something his sweet demon has said.

"Anthony?" "You don't like it?" "No, no. I didn't say that. I'll get used to it." ... "What does the J stand for?" "It's just a J, really."

Without so much as an apology from either one, they've fallen into a familiar rhythm. And, yes, apologies are very important, and these two need to get the hang of them, someday. But we can clearly see why they've survived so long without them.

When you're about the be discorporated at any moment, time for apologies is short.

"And if, in thirty seconds, a bomb does land here, it would take a real miracle for my friend and I to survive it." "A real miracle."

Of course, we're all focusing on the fact that Crowley is saying, "I did the bomb, you're doing the saving". But there's also a key word in there... friend.

Not so long ago (in their time, anyway), Crowley was incensed at the use of the word "fraternising", yet here he is calling this angel his friend.

I think in the time apart, Crowley realized just how important Aziraphale is to him. He really doesn't get along with the other demons on a social level, and he's failed to make any lasting human attachments. In all the universe, there's one being he can count on—his angel.

So, while we all know "friend" barely begins to cover it with these two, Crowley is finally ready for that label. Friends.

"That was very kind of you." "Shut up."

There's Aziraphale trying to thank Crowley without thanking him, once again pointing out what he sees as angelic traces in the demon before him.

And there's Crowley rejecting those same traces with all his being because he's embraced his exile internally and can't sever from that headspace anymore than Aziraphale from his desire for Heaven's affirmation and acceptance.

"Oh, the book! Oh, I forgot all the books."

Because in this moment of importance, he's going to prioritize Crowley. He put everything he had into keeping them from being discorporated.

But Crowley's wearing a smirk with flare. While the angel flails, Crowley strides confidently to the waiting bag of books.

"Oh, they'll all be blown to…"

His words trail off as he sees Crowley's right hand holding the precious bag. The music shifts as soon as Aziraphale makes the realization—Crowley saved the books.

"Little demonic miracle of my own. Lift home?"

Their fingers barely overlap as they exchange the bag, Crowley looking to not make a big deal of this. But it is a big deal.

Much as Gabriel was smitten with Beelzebub for a gift, Aziraphale is swayed by Crowley's first true act of love towards him this side of Heaven.

Yes, Crowley has saved Aziraphale multiple times. They've crossed paths over and over. But something's different. This time, Crowley called them friends. This time, there was something extra.

And while I know we were all taken in by Aziraphale looking at Crowley like he'd hung the moon and stars in the sky... which he technically did... there's a little sigh there that makes me wonder—was this the moment Aziraphale felt love from Crowley for the first time?

Remember, Aziraphale feels love. And we can tell he's enamored with Crowley long before this moment. Remember how his eyes lit up to hear his love's voice when he was locked in the Bastille? Remember the heart eyes he gave Crowley in hopes that the demon would work a miracle for Hamlet?

Yes, I believe Aziraphale feels his own affection for Crowley growing... but in part because he feels Crowley's love for him.

Now, there are many types of love. It doesn't have to necessarily be romantic (though we all know it is). But it plays into Aziraphale's prevailing theory that the demon is at least a little good and capable of good things—including love.

I think it's easy to pass off waves of love from around you as something else when you're not touching the person who loves you. Because they did touch as they traded that precious bag of books.

And that was an act of love. Beyond saving lives, Crowley protected something material that held meaning for Aziraphale. We all know Crowley's repeatedly stated that he doesn't read books. He doesn't adore them as Aziraphale does—but that doesn't matter.

Crowley saved the books because no matter what they meant to him—nothing—he knew they meant the world to the one who means the world to him.

It was an act of love. And I fully believe Aziraphale felt it.

Slipping into Season 2 with that same night, we can see that Aziraphale's still reveling in that feeling in the car with Crowley as they race through the embattled streets of London during the Blitz.

I paused it at a particularly adoring look from Aziraphale to Crowley. I mean, he's basking in his love.

"You know, that was a very nice thing you did for me." "Shut up." "There must be something I can do for you in return?" "Forget it, will you?"

Crowley's not ready to talk about it. He's never ready to talk about it... not until it's too late. And it's always too late, right?

But Aziraphale is fully enamored and looking for a way to reciprocate. This goes outside their usual Arrangement, and you can tell he's filled with feelings and wants to channel them into an act of love for Crowley.

And Crowley's brushing it off. Because it's easier for him to act than it is for him to talk. If you label it or try to define it, he's going to jump ship. But if you let it be, he's happy to ride the wave of... whatever this is.

Rather than wait in the car, Aziraphale follows Crowley inside. They're both savoring the time together, this time. It's somehow different, and I love that.

"Um, I wonder if I might be able to help you on behalf of my... uh, good friend here."

And, there it is. Aziraphale sees a way to live one of his greatest fantasies and help out Crowley. He has nothing to give him, but this'll do the trick, eh?

Also, look at him adopting "friend" as quickly as Crowley was willing to claim it. While Crowley is the one pushing them forward in many ways, he holds them back in others. This was a case where Aziraphale was a little faster to move forward emotionally than Crowley.

And this is the first night they've spent together in some time, if what we know of canon holds true.

Why am I going into all this!? Because, 1941 feels like one of the bigger turning points of their relationship. Of course, Job was, too. But I spent so much time watching that final confrontational scene of Season 2 Episode 6 only to keep returning to 1941 in my head.

I saw folks positing that Crowley's confession was the first time Aziraphale felt his beloved's love... but I argue he's felt it in waves throughout the centuries and been able to dismiss it as coming from somewhere else.

When their fingers touched in 1941 as Crowley gave Aziraphale a most-treasured gift—his books' survival—it was undeniable. Aziraphale felt Crowley's love.

And he spends the rest of this night trying to return Crowley's affection.

"Cheers for getting me off the hook." "Oh, there's no need to thank me. That's what... friends... are for."

He's still testing it out. The last time he used a word even close to that, Crowley had walked out of his life for half a century. But this time Crowley isn't correcting him, and Aziraphale loves that.

"You're going to need a 100% reliable marksman. Someone you can really trust." ... "Oh, I've got the perfect man for the job. At least, I think I have."

There's no question in Aziraphale's mind that he trusts Crowley enough to aim a bloody firearm at his face, pull the trigger, and that he'll be just fine afterwards.

And Crowley knows he's never fired a gun, but he also knows that if he doesn't say yes to this, his angel's gonna try to find someone else who will—and he can't have that.

He knows he'll miracle it away if something goes wrong. Crowley has to be the one to keep his angel out of harm's way.

"Haven't you fired a gun before?" "Not as such."

You. Two. Idiots. Seriously gotta work on your communication skills. but watch how Crowley's trigger finger actually shakes as he feels the weight of Aziraphale's trust in him.

That's love. That absolute trust. And while Crowley doesn't fully understand what's going on between them, he knows he can't betray that trust. He can't let anything happen to Aziraphale, and he's going to find a way to protect him.

Afterwards, backstage they're sharing the evening like a pair of old lovers celebrating a win. Crowley's lounging on the chaise longue. A triumphant Aziraphale winds a feathered boa around his neck. They're reveling in this moment, and it's the most relaxed we've seen them together to this point.

They could have gone separate ways as soon as the trick was achieved, but Crowley chooses to stay with Aziraphale. He's spent the last 50 years without him, realizing just how much this angel means to him, so he lingers.

Afterwards, they're back in the bookshop sharing wine on what Crowley believes may be his last night on Earth. He chose to spend it with the person he most wanted to be near.

And, yes, Aziraphale knows that he switched out the photo, but Crowley doesn't. For all his anger at their last meeting about "fraternising", it's all he seems to want to do, now.

Aziraphale notes that Crowley's glass is empty and fills it—a small act of love... but it's there. Feeling enamored and inspired, he tests the waters of discussion.

"I, uh, I knew you would come through for me. You always do."

Crowley tosses it off, but doesn't completely ignore the subject, for once.

"Well, you said, 'trust me'." "And you did."

He almost whispers it, like the three little words a lover whispers affectionately to their dear one. It's trust.

For an angel to be able to trust a demon... for a demon to be able to trust an angel... that right there is so far outside the bounds of what they both have been told is supposed to be.

But in one another they found one being in existence that they know will trust them wholeheartedly, and whom they can trust in return.

"You could've walked away. If you were truly as evil as you like to paint yourself, you would've done." "Nah, that's the trouble with you lot. You tend to see things in black and white. Sometimes, you've just gotta blur the edges."

And, let's be honest, his lot tend to see things the same way. Crowley is unique in that he truly wishes to understand. It's not that he wanted to thwart the will of God. He wanted to understand what was happening, to question it, to delve deeper than unanswered, unwavering dedication to a "Great Plan" that didn't make sense.

In Aziraphale, he's found someone as close to his morality as he'll ever discover (someone who goes as far as he can, but ultimately has a separate moral code). But Aziraphale lacks Crowley's distance from Heaven, and thus lacks his perspective. That'll eventually catch up to them.

But, tonight, they're both savoring the seconds of shared security. In the safety of the bookshop, they toast to, well, them.

"Well maybe there is something to be said for... shades of grey."

Aziraphale holds out his glass to Crowley, inviting the agreement. And, of course, Crowley will drink to that. Because that's where their love lies. In the black and white, it wouldn't be possible.

But because these two beings are able to think in the grey, to live in the grey, to love in the grey... they have a snowball's chance in hell of making it. Because something majorly shifts between them in 1941.

Yes, they've been doing this love dance since the beginning. But I think in feeling Crowley's love, Aziraphale is that tiny bit more emboldened.

Yet even after all that... Aziraphale hasn't quite reciprocated Crowley's act of love. Yes, he got him out of a bind with the delivery, but we can argue that Crowley had to rescue him right back with the bullet drama.

Enter 1967. We can assume that these two saw each other again in 1941 based on the fact that the "I was wrong, you were right" dance was in-play and we didn't see it. But we don't know what else might've transpired before 1967.

All we know is that Crowley's planning a "caper" to get the one thing he thinks he needs for insurance... the one thing Aziraphale outright denied him when he asked as a favour.

Crowley slides into his Bentley as the familiar swish of Aziraphale's miracle magic fills the air. The demon's tail lands in his seat just as the angel appears.

"What are you doing here?"

He's echoing Aziraphale's words from 1941. This isn't one of their planned clandestine meetings, and Aziraphale clearly doesn't want to risk the tiniest chance at an audience overhearing or witnessing this exchange.

Where the bookshop is the angel's sanctuary, this Bentley is Crowley's. And they're about to have a very secret exchange.

"I needed a word with you." "What?" "I work in SoHo. I hear things. I hear you're setting up a... caper to rob a church."

In a very Aziraphale coded move, Crowley looks away from the angel at the mention of an uncomfortable topic.

"Crowley, it's too dangerous. Holy Water won't just kill your body. It will destroy you completely." "You told me what you think 105 years ago." "And I haven't changed my mind, but I can't have you risking your life."

Here's the thing, as much as Crowley felt fiercely protective of Aziraphale in 1941, that's how much more Aziraphale feels now. That level of trust and love builds and builds.

Because what Aziraphale is saying to Crowley right now is—I can't lose you. Even though I hate this. Even though I don't want this for you, if it means I get to protect you, I'll do whatever it takes. Because I need you.

Which is why Aziraphale gives Crowley the Holy Water without understanding why he wants it. It's a gift without strings, without conditions, without preamble. Because Aziraphale knows if he's the one to do it... Crowley will at least be safe for now.

Just as Crowley agreed to do the shooting trick... for the exact same reason.

And while Crowley doesn't feel love in the air the way Aziraphale does, he does feel it from his angel. He understand the risks that Aziraphale took for him. And it means even more that his angel took these risks without understanding the reason... simply because this angel trusts this demon.

Crowley's lips part as he accepts the gift, and the two are very careful not to let their fingers touch, this time. Perhaps Aziraphale already feels quite exposed and doesn't want to risk the rush of another wave of love.

"Should I say thank you?" "Better not."

Aziraphale can't even look at Crowley. He's terrified he's just given the love of his life a suicide pill, but also so thankful to know he's safe, for now.

"Well, can I drop you anywhere?" "No, thank you. Oh, don't look so disappointed. Perhaps one day we could, I don't know... go for a picnic. Dine at the Ritz."

And this scene really shows me that Aziraphale is not oblivious to what's going on here and how he feels. But, he's placing very clear boundaries on where he hopes they can someday reach... sharing meals together in public.

Because I tend to agree with those who say that celestial beings love differently. We saw with Gabriel and Beelzebub that there was almost nothing physical to their affection. Their connection was enough for them. Without labels. Without definitions. Just... love.

But I think Aziraphale and Crowley are different, still, from the other celestial beings... partially because of their long time spent on Earth.

They like to eat and drink. They both like to listen to Earth music (though on different ends of the spectrum). Crowley canonically likes to go to the movies. Aziraphale soaks up books like sunshine, and loves learning new "human" things the human way.

These two can love in a purely celestial way. But, I argue they both have formed ideas of love that are a little different from their peers. They experience so much of existence in the human manner that it's impossible for their perspective of love to not be thus colored.

And right now, Crowley is feeling the impact of Aziraphale's love, much as the angel felt his in 1941.

"I'll give you a lift anywhere you wanna go."

Crowley is willing to let Aziraphale set the destination, here. And he'll go. Anywhere. Anywhere with him.

But Aziraphale's not quite ready for it. He knows he doesn't want to lose Crowley, but he doesn't yet know how to move past his angelic programming to fully embrace what they can be to one another.

"You go too fast for me, Crowley."

My. Heart. Stopped. The first time I heard this sentence come out of Aziraphale's mouth, I had to immediately rewind and rewatch. Because the hardest part for these two is always going to be the boundaries they put up in their own minds.

They've spent a long, long time on "opposite sides" while sharing an existence built on half-truths and trauma. They're both traumatized and both struggling through it. It's a miracle (heh) that in all this they've found one another at all.

And when it all comes crashing down in that truly devastating confession/kiss at the end of Season 2... Oh, they're both breaking apart because that trust that has been the foundation of everything for so long finally feels broken.

Crowley admits what they are. Out loud. No more, "Shut up" or "Forget about it". He opens himself up in a way he never imagined to the one being he could always trust.

And David Tennant takes us on the ride of our lives. Look, I'm a long-time fan of Tennant, starting with when he took over the role of The Doctor. But, golly, he destroyed us all with this confession.

Crowley removes his glasses before his beloved at the start of the conversation. And once he realizes how lost Aziraphale is to the system, he could have given up and left. Instead, he gathers his courage to speak his truth.

They're a team. A group of two. And he wants to spend... every second with him. Just being... them.

And they can't really run away from it all. It'll find them, eventually. But they also can't go rushing into the lion's den wide-eyed and unprepared.

But neither's truly hearing the other right now.

Aziraphale wants to bring Crowley with him to change things from the inside. Crowley sees there's no changing anything, and wants to spend whatever time he has left loving Aziraphale.

And. He. Falls.

Aziraphale isn't there to catch him. Because our poor sweet angel has drank the Heavenly kool-aid and earnestly believes he can make Heaven better for his beloved fallen angel.

They're both so bitterly lost.

Crowley covers his eyes and stalks away, muttering "good luck" to his thoroughly confused angel. They're both confused, really.

Because they both want to ultimately be together, but they're talking past one another. The mixed messages that once shielded them through suspicion and scrutiny have sealed their undoing. At least, for now.

In a last-ditch effort to get through to Aziraphale, Crowley takes a truly human approach with "one fabulous kiss". But it's not loving or tender. It's hurt. It's angry. It's as broken as they are.

Crowley takes one step, two steps, hands land on Aziraphale on step three before he gather's the angel's lapel in his hands and tugs him in. The choreography probably had to be perfect for poor David Tennant to make his mark through the glasses and contacts.

As their lips connect, Aziraphale's eyes widen in confusion. But it doesn't taken long for them to close, and as he relaxes into the kiss, his brow furrows as he presses himself into Crowley, wrapping his arms briefly around him.

When the perspective shifts and we're looking at the kiss from Crowley's back, Aziraphale's hand slides down Crowley's shoulder blades, where his angelic/demonic wings rest, hidden from human eyes. The angel's answering Crowley, now.

But fear kicks in, and the angel starts to flail. He's terrified. He's terrified of what he feels. Of what he wants. Of what this means. And he's heartbroken that Crowley would do this now when he's already refused Aziraphale's offer.

But the angel never. breaks. away.

He doesn't shove Crowley off. He waits until Crowley releases him to step back, and once he does he's overcome with emotions. There are too many feelings, too many thoughts, too many possibilities.

And Michael Sheen takes us through all the heartache, the pain, the longing, the hurt, the love, the devastation... Oh, he gives us every emotion and then some.

His, "I forgive you" cuts in jagged edges along our souls, like a papercut shreds skin, but on a cosmic level. And it shatters Crowley, similarly.

They part ways... broken.

Aziraphale is gutted to watch him go. More than any other time, this one feels final. In his confusion and pain, Aziraphale's trembling fingers find their way to his mouth, the taste of Crowley still fresh on his lips.

He presses his fingers against his mouth, trying to figure out where that sensation came from, but all he can recreate is a dim memory of the feelings crashing through him when Crowley's lips met his.

But the one thing that gives me hope is how Aziraphale keeps looking out that window. He can feel Crowley there. He can feel Crowley's love.

I've often wondered how they constantly find one another. Can Crowley feel where Aziraphale is and makes sure to be close in case of calamity, claiming that he's in town for a temptation? Does Aziraphale feel where Crowley may be and maneuvers himself as close as possible while feigning nearby blessings?

Because in the wake of their heartbreak, it's clear that he knows exactly where Crowley is.

He steps back to look out that window because he know that's where Crowley will be. He knows that Crowley hasn't peeled out of there in his Bentley. He knows he's waiting for him.

He feels Crowley's love. And when the Metatron confirms Crowley's words by mentioning the Second Coming, the way that Aziraphale looks back that last time feels charged.

I feel like Aziraphale wanted to run back right then exclaiming, "You were right. I was wrong!" But he can't. I mean, the Metatron is standing right there and expects him to come up and run this thing. If Aziraphale backs out now, who will be in position to stop this thing once and for all?

And maybe, maybe Aziraphale can protect the being he loves most by being in the room where it happens. Maybe that's the key, right?

But this is all projection. I'm more clueless than most of you because I've yet to read the book (yes, I will prioritize it after I finish these script notes!).

These are just my uninformed thoughts! But, I really do think that Aziraphale feels Crowley's love. And I think he's felt it for a very long time, at least since 1941. And I really can't wait until we get our Season 3 renewal notice.

Will I ever write full Metas on this ship? Gee, I don't know. We shall see, I suppose (which is only marginally less annoying than "wait and see").

Be good to one another. Spread love. Choose kindness. Give yourself grace. And don't forget to breathe.

#Good Omens #Good Omens Season 2 #Good Omens Spoilers #Aziraphale #Crowley #Aziracrow #Ineffable Husbands #Aziraphale x Crowley #Crowley x Aziraphale #Neil Gaiman #Michael Sheen #David Tennant #Terry Pratchett

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queenlucythevaliant · 2 years ago

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Hello! 🧡 I'm curious how you balance viewing scripture as infallible while also not taking parts of it (Genesis in particular, to reference your recent post) literally. I've heard some people say that Genesis is meant to be a poetic version of creation and therefore not entirely truthful: sort of like a kids' story, how some details could be fudged without losing The Point. I get why God wouldn't give us all the details, and it's not like this is necessarily a core doctrine issue, but I guess what I'm asking is if scripture is infallible, why would it give an incorrect account?

Hey Anna! I'd love to talk about this! It's one of my favorite issues in the world, actually, so please be prepared for a whole lot of passion from me 😆

So the bottom line, like I said in my previous post, is that I believe that all Scripture is true and infallible, but that it ought not be read literalistically. This is not the same as saying that some Scripture is less true by virtue of using poetic language, nor that I believe that details have been fudged. For me (and others who interpret Scripture as I do), it comes down to analysis of Biblical language, style, and genre.

So okay, let me start by defining my terms:

History = A text detailing true events that actually happened. These accounts may use symbolic, metaphorical, or otherwise figurative language in the service of conveying these events. A history is also not necessarily complete in its detail or exact in its chronology unless the text itself makes those claims (ie it's possible for histories to backtrack and tell events again from another point of view; this is pretty common actually.)

Biblical figurative language can take a variety of forms depending on the genre of the text we're discussing, however in general it is used to express truths that cannot be expressed in other ways. I'm gonna quote Lewis again here, as I think his discussion of Biblical symbolism in Mere Christianity is really great and relevant. This is from book three, chapter 10 (Hope):

There is no need to be worried by facetious people who try to make the Christian hope of "Heaven" ridiculous by saying they do not want "to spend eternity playing harps." The answer to such people is that if they cannot understand books written for grown-ups, they should not talk about them. All the scriptural imagery (harps, crowns, gold, etc.) is, of course, a merely symbolical attempt to express the inexpressible. Musical instruments are mentioned because for many people (not all) music is the thing known in the present life which most strongly suggests ecstasy and infinity.

Crowns are mentioned to suggest the fact that those who are united with God in eternity share His splendour and power and joy. Gold is mentioned to suggest the timelessness of Heaven (gold does not rust) and the preciousness of it. People who take these symbols literally might as well think that when Christ told us to be like doves, He meant that we were to lay eggs.

Figurative language is used throughout the entire Bible. It's in discussions of heaven, like Jack illustrates here, but it's also frequently used in the Epistles ("I have been crucified with Christ") and, in the Gospels ("You must be born again.") It's heavily employed in the prophetic books, Psalms, and the wisdom literature (not even gonna pick an example, it's everywhere). It's used frequently throughout the Pentateuch (God "bore [the Israelites] up on eagle's wings"). It is used in Biblical histories ("[Samson's] soul was vexed to death"), though not to the extent that I believe it's used in Genesis 1-11. Sometimes the text telegraphs that figurative language is about to be used, but certainly not always.

None of these things are any less true than the things described in what we might call "plain" language. Rather, imagery is a tool that helps us understand the deeper truth of a thing; it "expresses the inexpressible" without causing us to doubt that the images are about something real. Sometimes, the language even tells us something that occured spiritually/from God's perspective, but which did not literally happen in the physical world (again, "I have been crucified with Christ.") I think it's clearly a mistake to conclude that the presence of figurative language means that the story is merely figurative or that it's incorrect.

So I read the Genesis 1-2 creation account as a largely figurative account of historical events, and I think it's written that way in order to convey God's perspective of creation. Certainly a human perspective on creation would be (a) theologically un-useful and (b) impossible for an ancient person to understand.

To expound on point (b) a little bit: even a modern person, with all the geological, paleontological, chemical, and genetic evidence that we have, simply cannot comprehend the expanse of what we call "deep time." Modern scientists must communicate these things in metaphors: they use 24-hour clocks in which each minute is thirty thousand years and football fields with geological epochs marked off at the various yard lines in order to try to express that which the human mind is fundamentally not equipped to grasp. The Bible should and must tell the story of creation from God's perspective, and to do that it must use figurative language.

Thus, "Days" are figurative days, but as such they convey greater truths about the way that creation appeared to God: it was gradual and periodic and God was patient, yet it did not seem to take eons to him. It was like a week of diligent work that produced good results.

Likewise, when the text says that God speaks light and land and life into existence, we can read that as a statement of God's incredible, beautiful power over creation. The moon likely formed in the "Big Splat," when another planet collided with proto-Earth and flung debris into space (I'm not even gonna touch the formation of the sun-- waaaaaay outside my wheelhouse). To God, these things were as simple as saying, "Let there be lights in the expanse of the heavens to separate the day from the night" and then making them. The complex natural processes involved were simple before the Almighty God.

Likewise, the billions of years that are took for life to evolve, from self-replicating auto-catalytic molecules to microbes to multicellular life that arose from endosymbiosis and horizontal gene transfer, and then all the way down the epochs of history: the beautiful Cambrian Explosion, trilobites and the first chordates, then Tiktaalik propping itself up in shallow water and its tetrapod descendants stepping onto land for the first time; those strange, fascinating club-moss forests of the Carboniferous, dinosaurs and archaeopteryx taking to the skies, the K-T extinction event and then mammals picking up the torch and growing larger, whales returning to the seas and their vestigial legs disappearing, life, life life... All of that, to God, was two days of creation in which he spoke and natural processes produced the glorious array of life that existed when Adam and Eve came to be. He had authority over all of it. He said "Let the earth bring forth living creatures," and it did! God made them as surely as if he had sculpted them from clay with his hands, as miraculously as if He had spoken a word and they had existed in a split-second.

It's all true! All truth is God's truth! Every word of Genesis is God's truth, not despite the fact that it's written using figurative language, but because it is. We can understand truths that science alone can't account for - that in all the vastness of protein sequence space, God formed rubisco and ATP synthase: not by random chance, but through loving providence using randomness as a tool. We can see deep time as God sees it, not as a yawning abyss that we can't begin to properly conceptualize, but as a week in the mind of our great God who transcends time.

(My concluding paragraph is going to be somewhat harsh toward YE Creationists, but it cuts to the core of why I feel so strongly about how we read Genesis. I'm going to put it under the cut so that no one has to read it unless they want to; I'm not trying to attack anyone. I hope you know that I say all these things out of a place of deep, deep love.)

Returning to what Jack said: "If [people] cannot understand books written for grown-ups, they should not talk about them." YE Creationists would have us read Genesis without allowing for any figurative language; they would disregard the scientific method in order to do so. To my thinking, if a creation in seven 24-hour days were the intended meaning of the text- if we were, like children, meant to take everything in it entirely literally- then God would be a liar, because then he would have created a world in which the speed of light and geologic strata and the fossil record and even the evidence of our own DNA and physiology are all lying to us about how we were created. I could not love such a God.

But because I, like Jack, like millions of other Christians, can read the text of Scripture and interpret the figurative language it uses, I can instead marvel at the wonder and glory of our Creator-God, to whom epochs are like days, who can speak natural processes into existence. Scripture is history and it's poetry and it's all true. All truth is God's truth.

#i would love to write a book on these subjects someday #once i'm an experienced expert in microbial evolution i'd love to either go back to school for an mdiv or collaborate with a theologian #to produce a pair of books: one targeted at scientific minded non-Christians and another targeted at YE-creationists #idk it's a long way off #but this feels like good practice #love you dearly anna my friend #thanks for asking this #i hope my answer was okay and that i didn't come on too strong lol #if you or anyone else would like me to recommend some of my favorite books/articles/talks on these subjects lmk #i'm abysmal at keeping track of my reading/listening so it would definitely take a while to hunt things down and compile #but i could manage it #i do have more than just cs lewis quotes in my wheelhouse but i tend to figure that he's someone we can all broadly agree on #all truth is god's truth #ask me hard questions

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