#if you can corrupt a god. can’t you purify one? something like that

[zukkacore]

Thinking abt jace trying to resurrect Porter. And the worshipper’s ability to define and redefine the subject of worship—with Ankarna, with YES!/YES? etc… And the thing abt Jace being a Porter acolyte is that he loves Porter enough to help him with the plan even though he doesn’t want to lose him through ascension. Jace doesn’t exactly have his own agenda when it comes to The Plan, but a small part of him thinks. I understand Porter. And hopes. And Porter wants an empire, but he’s perfectly willing to take an unwilling army. But Jace’s devotion is real. Porter wants to be the god of rage but. What my true belief, my devotion, my love could change your very nature.

And the plan fails. And Jace has to realize. That’s not how it works. He brings Porter back, but with the resolve that belief is not enough. Porter has to do it himself. Something something cassankarna-Persephades etc etc. And what about you and I? Are we gonna try again? It’s time for spring. Wait for me. I will.

[69misato69]

above all else, guard your heart ✦ jing yuan x luocha

archive of our own ✦ twitter ✦ masterlist

this was written before luocha's release. religious themes/imagery/guilt along with heavy sexual themes and mild injuries/blood are present so please proceed with caution ! 2k words, smut.

repost from my ao3. not taking HSR reqs yet because i am still digesting lore but jing yuan + luocha reqs, if you have any, are alright.

Jing Yuan places another kiss on his shoulder, now fully exposed. Rid of his clothes and accessories except for the golden cross hanging down his chest. 

“I—I must…” Luocha chokes on his own words, “General…”

He stands on his knees over Jing Yuan’s lap, towering over him. A hand holds his trembling body in place by the waist as another travels down from his chest to his belly. Jing Yuan tries to meet his eyes, but he is set on avoiding his gaze.

“Yes? What must you do?”

Cleanse. Atone. 

It’s — wrong, so unsightly of him to be laid out like this. Sacrilege against a body he tries so hard to maintain as pure and untouched.

It’s stained and corrupted, it must be. Regardless of how Jing Yuan’s touches take his breath away and leave him yearning for more, it's still a temptation he must fight. 

It’s a trial, a challenge. And so far, Luocha is failing it miserably. 

“Atonement is for sinners, or am I mistaken?”

Luocha muffles a gasp, so lost in thought that he fails to realize how he mumbles some of these words out loud, though it’s not coherent enough for Jing Yuan to fully figure out what is wrong. 

Luocha’s fingers clench the cross on his neck so tightly that he’s almost losing circulation in his hands. The edges drive into the bones of his fingers, vicious enough to draw blood. If he lets go, Luocha fears that it might never return to him again. 

Jing Yuan holds his fist, placing a kiss on his knuckles. 

He can’t. 

It would be easier if the General rejected him. A “we can’t do this” would be a saving grace from the unsettling addiction that grows in his stomach. He wouldn't mind his rejection, he would laugh it off, relieved and disappointed all at once. 

But he doesn't push Luocha away. 

For every kiss he leaves on Jing Yuan’s lips, he kisses back passionately. With every stroke along his hips Luocha feels — purified. 

His body feels completely weightless as if he’s stripped of the guilt even though he’s ridden with it. 

Close to him, and even closer to his God even as it damns him eternally. 

Purified, yet one that is pure wouldn’t be sweating and moaning on a man’s lap, severing the flesh bestowed on him by the empyrean. He holds onto the reins that desperately want to escape his hold. 

Jing Yuan is well-aware of his inhibitions, but he also feels Luocha burning up for him, silently begging to be touched in a way he never allowed himself to.

Something deep inside him that needs to be itched so it can be put to rest at last. 

Jing Yuan looks up at him, so agonizingly beautiful. 

Golden hair that drapes over his shoulders, it would be a shame not to stroke it gently, burying his nose in its sweet scent, to wrap it around his fist and — well, he digresses. 

His skin with an inhuman glow almost, smooth like porcelain. How is he supposed to refrain from running his fingers along it, sinking his teeth into the divine and holy until it’s marked by his lips? 

Due to all these reasons and more that Jing Yuan can’t quite put into words, he can’t decline. He can’t pull away as Luocha reaches for his hand, then his thigh. He doesn’t have it in him to refuse such a beautiful, enchanting being, and that’s how Luocha ends up on his lap. Panting, bleeding from his hands as he refuses to let go of the cross hanging around his neck.

“I will show you heaven, Mr. Luocha.” Jing Yuan whispers against his lips, “If you’ll let me.” 

Luocha’s resolve that had successfully stood the test of time for so long, it begins to unravel with the enticing offer. His grip on the cross loosens, and just as his hands are about to fall to his lap, Jing Yuan catches him by the wrists. He brings Luocha’s cramping, aching hands to his lips and kisses the insides of his palms. It's strange, to say the least, watching Luocha bleed. To see him crumble and break down, Jing Yuan feels lucky to be trusted with it. 

For a man so in touch with his body yet so reserved with it to be the one to reach out for him. It flashes into Jing Yuan’s mind how he entangled his fingers with his own as they sipped tea side by side. 

There is so much — too much of Luocha that he is a stranger to, yet his touch feels so familiar. Calming and soothing, it puts Jing Yuan’s mind at ease. 

Luocha finally gains the confidence to move and cups his cheek. He sinks down with a long sigh, met with the thin fabric that is the last thing standing between them. His tired legs can finally rest, straddling Jing Yuan's hips, bent at the knees. Luocha wraps his arms around his neck and leans against the General.

Within his grasp is — more of a kitten dressed up as a lion, he feels. Kind, golden eyes and an even kinder soul.

Nevertheless, he feels protected. Safe and shielded in Jing Yuan’s arms as his worries slowly vanish. 

His blood paints the General’s cheek red, as it does his own chest. A single drop rolls down from the cross only to be caught by his tongue.

The taste of iron that he shares with Luocha as his reddened lips claim his in a more heated kiss. 

Soon Luocha finds himself on his back, leaving hand prints wherever his hands touch.

Jing Yuan leaves no spot un-kissed on his face, moving down to his neck, unable to hold back as he leaves pink marks on his skin. Marks that will turn deep red soon, and purple the next morning only to be concealed under the many layers of clothing Luocha walks around in. Jing Yuan wonders if he'll be able to see them again and kiss over the bruises he left behind. 

He moves down, swirling his tongue around Luocha's nipples and eliciting noises of pleasure and shame. He watches in awe as the General touches him in a way that even he, himself never has. 

Luocha only vaguely remembers how he pressed a hand between his legs over the fabric late at night when he was younger, curious and eager. Yet, he can't recall anything but getting caught, scolded, possibly worse that now remains as a vacant space in his memory like most of his younger years. 

But this, this he would like to remember. How Jing Yuan places one of his legs over his shoulder and leaves kisses all over his groin. 

“Beautiful.” Jing Yuan breathes down his inner-thigh, “Carved in the Sky’s image.” 

Luocha is — unbelievably wet, to the extent that he can feel himself drip over the sheets and turn red all over in embarrassment. 

Jing Yuan can observe it in real-time, how translucent drops roll off of his folds with every kiss, how his legs flutter as Jing Yuan inches closer. 

His heart races with the thought of tasting him — of pleasing him until his hesitant, muffled moans are free from restraint. He deserves pleasure, to be worshiped in a way that honors his beauty. 

The love he has for the Divine, someone has to return some of it to Luocha, right? It’s only fair.

Jing Yuan spreads his legs further apart and finally, leaves a long lick from his clit down to his quivering hole.

Luocha shivers before relaxing onto the mattress. He bites down on his bottom lip, chest heaving when Jing Yuan laps over his clit, repeatedly until his heart sinks. He grips at the sheets aimlessly. 

What is heaven if not a gorgeous man between your legs? One that attends to you delicately and sucks you dry until you’re squirming with pleasure?

The Devil tempts and for once, Luocha indulges. He allows all that is sinful into his unalloyed soul. He lusts and thirsts, back arched and hips held in place by strong hands. His nails dig into Jing Yuan’s scalp, pushing him even deeper into himself until the General is left breathless. 

To Jing Yuan it's far from a hindrance and more of a blessing, to reach deep inside Luocha and swallow all that he's graced with. 

A fire swiftly builds at the pit of Luocha's stomach, loud sirens and alarms that go off inside his head. 

Ordering him to stop, to hold back. His last stop before the point of return and Luocha bypasses it blissfully to spill all over Jing Yuan’s lips.

His hips spasm and his mind goes numb for a few moments, unable to process his first orgasm as it engulfs him. Jing Yuan leaves wet kisses on his pulsating cunt before pulling away, admiring the reddened mess of his own creation. 

He climbs over Luocha, painfully hard yet still patient. His hair is scattered over the pillow, shining behind him like a halo, so bright that it could light up the room on its own. He raises on his elbows to meet Jing Yuan, reaching up for a kiss, tasting himself on the General’s tongue and failing to hold back a whimper. 

His mumbles and whispers linger on Jing Yuan’s mind still. He pulls away to line up with Luocha’s hole and asks an inch away from his reddened cheeks, “Is it not a greater sin to deny yourself what your heart desires?” 

“The spirit cares not for the vessel that temporarily houses it, General. It would be unwise to call this my heart to begin with.” 

Luocha doesn’t speak, he recites. Jing Yuan can tell by now what comes from his heart and what doesn’t. 

“It is my duty to make sure it can ascend one day, to preserve it in the purest condition possible. Which is why I shouldn’t…” Luocha’s eyes darken, “...give in.” 

Jing Yuan slides in softly, mesmerized by the way Luocha sighs, then squeals at the stretch. His eyes, now glossy, beg for affirmation. As he wallows in his own hypocrisy, Jing Yuan puts his mind at ease. 

“This breath-taking display, I would say, is far from an impurity.” he stuffs himself all the way in, brushing against the depth of Luocha’s walls that clench around him, “A vessel, I understand. But a vessel with needs, regardless.” 

Luocha reaches up to cup his cheek, hazy with the stimulation, so deliciously full that he can feel Jing Yuan fill every corner inside him.

“Tend to them, General.” Luocha nuzzles into his neck, “You're the one that promised me heaven.”  

More demanding, unchaste and daring. Different from the Luocha he knows. Needier, more unhinged. A knot that unravels inside and slowly consumes him, taking over as a force unleashed after years of lying dormant. 

Jing Yuan obliges. He holds Luocha down, rolling his hips slowly to crash into his, stretching him further with each thrust that weakens and disarms the man writhing under him. 

Jing Yuan would love to walk around with him wrapped around his arm, gazing at the scenery with hands on Luocha’s waist, watching how his hair dances under the breeze. 

Holding him close late at night to worship every inch of his skin, until every bone, muscle and vein is carved into his mind and memorized by his lips. 

Jing Yuan picks up the pace, pounding him into the bed the more Luocha whimpers and begs for more. 

He’s perfect, exquisite. Celestial. 

Whenever he tries to pull away to soften his movements, Luocha reels him back in either by the shoulders or simply with the lewd expression on his face. 

He melts under Jing Yuan, trembles around his cock, afraid to let go. He wants him buried there forever, adorning his insides with faith built apart from a God. 

Guilt and fear, devices to control. Luocha knows. Only he knows how deep these chains cut into his skin. A few drops of blood don’t compare to the anguish that takes over his mind whenever he closes his eyes. 

His hands, now severed and torn apart. He doesn’t need more than a mere second to clean it up. 

But, he won’t. He will let it bleed until it can’t anymore, until it leaves an indelible mark along his fingers. A flaw on his eerily flawless body, the vessel he dreads to soil.

Then he will carry it, as a man who refuses to be controlled by fear and guilt. 

thank you for reading !! take care.

[kehannii]

So. A combination of reading final girl, this one TikTok comic, my love for marichat, and my apparent insomnia has lead to this:

Guardian au where that first day, Fu seeks a holder for the Black Cat Miraculous and, instead of a new holder for the Ladybug, a new guardian to train.

Chat Noir is the sole ‘savior of Paris’

He can’t purify akumas but instead absorbs them, which, according to Fu, will destroy the akuma’s corruption. No “bye bye little butterfly” more like “Die die bitchy moth”(the corruption isn’t fully distorted and has its effects bc the universe hates Adrien agreste)

Fu is strictly against awakening the Ladybug because he doesn’t want to risk loosing it bc he has trauma over loosing the butterfly and peacock already and he absolutely cannot loose Creation.

He’s fine with using the Black Cat because while the miraculous might be a tiny bit *cough cough* unstable, Creation can fix any of the damage done by Destruction and the two miraculous are a pair so if he looses the Cat, the Ladybug will lead him to it or something idk I haven’t thought that one through.

So anyways, after stoneheart and the akuma multiplying is over, Paris is in ruins. Not like big big ruins but like, casualty rates are really high, some people are still statues, and there’s a shit ton of property damage. It’s been days and the popo are still dragging bodies out of the rubble. Ppl are angry at chat noir bc of all the damage left behind and all that yada yada.

Adrien himself is all like oh shot naur I do not wanna do this anymore, oh and he’s like bruised all over from the many, many times he’s been slammed into hard things and fallen from his baton. He’s feeling guilty and in pain and is like, bro I only wanted to go do school not this shit.

He miles around and despairs for a while and after like a week of Paris dealing with the damage, Fu gains a brain cell and does some voodoo shit with the ladybug miraculous so that it doesn’t fully awaken, puts the earrings on and calls for the cure.

Everything goes back to normal; the dead are waking up in morgues, buildings are fixing themselves, injuries are going away, stone monsters are turning back into people, wveything is back to normal. Except, the cure, when it washes over Adrien does…nothing. It doesn’t heal him and cleanup his injuries, just makes him feel weird.

Adrien’s body is rejecting the Miraculous Cure, and that leads to issues but Adrien does not have his priorities straight so instead of going “oh no the magic bandaid isn’t helping me I’m going to get killed by one of these nasty bug thingies help guardian dude!” He’s just like “oh thank god Paris is a-okay I guess I don’t mind being a super hero if people stop dying” he has no self preservation because he’s a looser.

Anyways so that’s that. Chadrien absorbs akumas which makes him weird, fu presses the restart button on the Ladybug whenever Chadrien beats an akuma. Reset does not work for Adrien and leaves him in his bloody bruised state.

Adrien doesn’t really care that he’s not getting healed by the cure, he just patches himself up and for some reason people can’t really see the injuries even though he can feel them very very clearly so it doesn’t interfere with his modeling.

He doesn’t gaf until he starts like having emo symptoms from the corrupt butterflies that he’s eating (no I don’t know what the symltoms are yet probably like fucked up morality, violence, cat like tendencies, more carnivorous diet, sharp teeth… okay so I kind of know the symptoms) and plagg is like this shit is happening because the Ladybug isn’t awake and the two miraculous balance each other out and his magic is off kilter and he’s having side effects.

After a while of this and Adriens symptoms getting worse, and his body rejecting the cure even more, Adrien is fed up with Fu because “wdym you can’t wake up the Ladybug you’re literally using it every time to reset everything, the miraculous is already on the chess board, just use her!” And he’s pissed because Fu is chilling in some cozy apartment not lifting a finger or risking life and limb like he is to keep Paris safe and he gets to just woosh woosh make it all disappear from a safe distance when Adrien is in a state halfway to death since he got the his ring?

So he’s prissy about it and is always bugging Fu abt it but he’s an idiot as we’ve established and doesn’t mention the cure not working on him and instead of seeing it as a cry for help as in “oh no this is so much work I need a partner” and not what adorn actually means which is “oh for fucks sake I’m dying right now I need my partner” and Fu is like oh so you’re lonely right? (Which yes but that’s not the point???) and let’s him give out another miraculous so he has help fighting.

Adrien is so close to just cataclysming this old man it’s not even funny. He takes the miraculous and sure it helps and he’s not getting injured as much but he’s still eating akumas and that’s shitty especially when he’s puking black nasty shit now. Oh ya, as hawkmoth’s akumas get more dangerous, the akumas get more nasty and fuck with Adrien more than usual. And the more dangerous they are the more injured he gets.

One day after a particular rough akuma, Adrien is leaping through the city trying to get soemwhere quiet si he can maybe patch up the hole in his stomach(it’s not a big hole) and he’s excgahsred and he settles onto a particular balcony. He just lays there for a little, accidenoy knocks over a couple plants and just slouches against the wall and closes his eyes with a sigh and wishes he just stayed in that fucking house because he literally just wanted to go to school god damnit

Meanwhile… Marinette comes home from having this weird old guy fill her brain to the brim with new knowledge about magic jewels and powers and gods and guardians and the catman flying about and she wants nothing more than to climb into her bed and go to sleep. But then she hears somebody on her roof and is like wtf???

She grabs her weapon of choice (a paddle don’t ask) and climbs onto her balcony and then she sees the emo cat boy bleeding on her lawn chair.

She’s till tempted to whack him in the face but he’s bleeding and she’s training to be a Gaurdian apparently so it’s her job to like…patch him up right?

(Also the whole time she’s like, why is he still injured?? The cure should’ve healed him and is wondering if she should let Fu know abt this)

She gets him to stay and rushes back down to her room, grabs some fabric and like shoved onto his wound to stanch the bleeding all while muttering abt how expensive this fabric was dammit

And Adrien is just…starstruck… and confused. Like wtf is happening and how?? And as she’s like stopping the bleeding he’s just staring at her and like woah she’s really pretty(as she’s mourning her pretty fabric, scowls at him, and has his blood all over her hands and her shirt at this point) (Chadrien’s ring burns and his heart skips a beat but he’s a bit busy bleeding and ogling his classmate to notice)

At some point he’s like I have to…go? And she’s like bitch u have a whole in ur chest?? Where you gonna go with that?? And he’s like umm…magic?

She convinces him to stay for a sec, runs down, grabs pain killers, remembers that her parents keep a first aid kit down in the bakery, rushes down to grab the gauze, and by the time she makes it back up to the balcony she makes it back to the balcony her arms are filled with day old pastries, painkillers, a cat plushy and a pack of princess themed bandaids.

Chadrien refuses to question anything and takes all of it, says his good byes and thanks yous and leaps(limps) back home, barley managing to not fall on his face.

He feels light, lighter than he has since receiving his ring. He goes home and detransforms, plagg settles on his chest to work the corruption out of his wounds and Adrien contemplates the orange cat plushy on his pillow and thinks. He can’t help feeling like has changed, something big. He goes to sleep with smile tugging at his lips and sapphire eyes his mind.

Marinette stares after him long after he’s disappeared, deep in thought with a frown on her face. Eventually, she goes back down to her room and settles under the covers, a heavy feeling of foreboding twists itself into her chest.

The next morning, Master Fu is surprised to see her at his door before the rises, he wasn’t sure she’d ever comeback on her own accord. Nonetheless, he lets her in and makes them tea before answering all of her questions. If he notices that there are more inquiries than usual about the Miracle Cure, he does not show it.

So that’s that.

[dfroza]

A point of (Clarity) is forthcoming

Today’s reading of the Scriptures from the New Testament is the 3rd chapter of the letter of 1st John:

Consider the kind of extravagant love the Father has lavished on us��He calls us children of God! It’s true; we are His beloved children. And in the same way the world didn’t recognize Him, the world does not recognize us either.

My loved ones, we have been adopted into God’s family; and we are officially His children now. The full picture of our destiny is not yet clear, but we know this much: when Jesus appears, we will be like Him because we will see Him just as He is. All those who focus their hopes on Him and His coming seek to purify themselves just as He is pure.

Everyone who lives a life of habitual sin is living in moral anarchy. That’s what sin is. You realize that He came to eradicate sins, that there is not the slightest bit of sin in Him. The ones who live in an intimate relationship with Him do not persist in sin, but anyone who persists in sin has not seen and does not know the real Jesus.

Children, don’t let anyone pull one over on you. The one doing the right thing is just imitating Jesus, the Righteous One.

The one persisting in sin belongs to the diabolical one, who has been all about sin from the beginning. That is why the Son of God came into our world: to destroy the plague of destruction inflicted on the world by the diabolical one.

Everyone who has been born into God’s family avoids sin as a lifestyle because the genes of God’s children come from God Himself. Therefore, a child of God can’t live a life of persistent sin. So it is not hard to figure out who are the children of God and who are the children of the diabolical one: those who lack right standing and those who don’t show love for one another do not belong to God.

The central truth—the one you have heard since the beginning of your faith—is that we must love one another. Please do not act like Cain, who was of the evil one. He brutally murdered his own brother. Why would he do something so despicable? Because his life was devoted to evil and selfishness, and his brother chose to do what is right.

Brothers and sisters, don’t be shocked if the corrupt world despises you. We know that we have crossed over from death to real life because we are devoted to true love for our brothers and sisters. Anyone who does not love lives among corpses.

Everyone who hates other members of God’s family is a murderer. Does a murderer possess the beautiful life that never ends? No. We know what true love looks like because of Jesus. He gave His life for us, and He calls us to give our lives for our brothers and sisters.

If a person owns the kinds of things we need to make it in the world but refuses to share with those in need, is it even possible that God’s love lives in him? My little children, don’t just talk about love as an idea or a theory. Make it your true way of life, and live in the pattern of gracious love.

There is a sure way for us to know that we belong to the truth. Even though our inner thoughts may condemn us with storms of guilt and constant reminders of our failures, we can know in our hearts that in His presence God Himself is greater than any accusation. He knows all things. My loved ones, if our hearts cannot condemn us, then we can stand with confidence before God. Whatever we may ask, we receive it from Him because we follow His commands and take the path that pleases Him. His command is clear: believe in the name of His Son, Jesus the Anointed, and love one another as He commanded. The one who follows His teaching and walks this path lives in an intimate relationship with God. How do we know that He lives in us? By the gift of His Spirit.

The Letter of 1st John, Chapter 3 (The Voice)

A note from The Voice translation:

When we feel like we are not good enough to be loved by God, we should remember that God’s love is greater than our doubts. We must silence the sounds of condemnation so we can hear the voice of God’s loving assurance and remember that He has selected us to be part of His family.

Today’s paired chapter from the First Testament is the 44th chapter of the book of Ezekiel:

Then the man whose appearance was like bronze led me back to the eastern gate where the Eternal One had entered, but I could see that the outer gate was now closed.

Eternal One (to Ezekiel): This gate must remain closed. It will never be opened again for anyone to walk through. The Eternal God of Israel has entered through this gate, so it must remain shut for all time. Only the prince is allowed inside the gateway to sit and feast before the Eternal. He will not go all the way through the gate but only through the portico of the gateway where he will stop and sit. He’ll exit the same way he came in.

Then he led me back through the inner northern gate to stand in front of the temple. From there I witnessed the Eternal’s glory illuminating His temple. I fell and buried my face in the ground.

Eternal One: Son of man, look closely and listen carefully. Pay attention to all I am about to tell you. I am going to lay out the rules and regulations for My temple. Take note of those having to do with entering the temple and exiting the sanctuary. Tell the rebellious people of Israel living in exile what the Eternal Lord says: “I’ve had it with your disgusting actions, people of Israel! Not only do you engage in shocking behaviors, but you have the audacity to bring the uncircumcised—in heart and in flesh—into My sanctuary, knowing they’ll contaminate it. You allowed them in even as you offered My food, the fat and blood of the sacrifices, on the altar. In doing so, you shattered our pact. When you should have been upholding your side of the covenant and taking care of My holy things yourselves, you put outsiders in charge of My sanctuary.”

This is what I, the Eternal Lord, have to say: “Do not let any foreigner—even if he lives among the people of Israel—come into My sanctuary because foreigners are uncircumcised in both their hearts and their flesh. The Levites who abandoned Me when the rest of Israel strayed and pursued their idols instead of Me will bear the consequences for the wicked things they have done. They are still allowed to minister in My sanctuary, guard the temple outer gates, and serve in the temple proper. They are allowed to slaughter the burnt offerings and other sacrifices for the people, and to help serve them. But because they acted as a stumbling block to Israel and helped the people worship their worthless idols, I have made an oath that they must pay for the wicked things they have done. This I, the Eternal One, promise. They are not allowed to approach Me as the priests do. In fact, they aren’t permitted anywhere near Me or any of My sacred things and holy offerings. They must endure the shame of their shocking and deplorable actions. But I will still allow them to be in charge of the maintenance of the temple and keep it running day to day.

“As for the Levitical priests who are the descendants of Zadok—the ones who took care of My holy place even as the rest of Israel strayed—they will draw near to Me and serve Me. They will stand before Me in the sanctuary and present offerings of fat and blood. They are permitted to enter My sanctuary, draw near to My holy table, and accomplish all that priestly service requires. When the Zadokite priests enter a gate to the inner courtyard, they should already be clothed in linen. They are not allowed to wear any wool clothing while serving inside the temple or inside any gate to the inner courtyard. I want them to wear linen turbans on their heads and linen undergarments. They should not wear any clothing that will cause them to perspire. When they enter the outer courtyard where all the people congregate, they should remove the linen clothes they wore while serving and leave them in the sacred chambers. They are to dress in regular clothing so that they do not pass on holiness to the people who may come in contact with their clothing. They are not allowed to shave their heads or have long hair. They are always to keep their hair neatly trimmed. Priests are not allowed to consume wine before they enter the inner courtyard. The priests are not allowed to marry widows or women who are divorced. They are only allowed to marry virgins of Israelite ancestry or widows of other priests. They are responsible for teaching My people Israel the line between the sacred and common. They are to instruct My people on how to detect what is ritually pure and impure. I want the priests to act as the judges to resolve any dispute among My people. They are to judge and make their decisions according to the statutes I’ve outlined. The priests must uphold My rules and regulations regarding all My required feasts and all My holy Sabbaths. Priests are not allowed to defile themselves by being in the presence of a dead person. The only exception is when the corpse is that of a close relative: mother or father, son or daughter, brother or unwed sister. In that situation a priest may be near and defile himself. After the priest has been ritually purified from death’s defilement, he is required to wait seven days before returning to his duties. When he does return to the sanctuary, he is to enter the inner court and first present a sin offering for himself before ministering for others.

“The priests are to have only one inheritance: Me. I am their inheritance. You are to allot them only one possession in Israel: Me. I am their possession. As for the food they eat, they are to consume the grain offerings, the sin offerings, and the guilt offerings brought to the temple by the people. Everything devoted to Me will be theirs. The priests are to receive the first and finest gifts of your firstfruit offerings, even your grain offerings, so that your household will be blessed. The priests are not allowed to eat any animal—bird or beast—that dies of natural causes or is torn apart by a predator.”

The Book of Ezekiel, Chapter 44 (The Voice)

A link to my personal reading of the Scriptures for Sunday, december 10 of 2023 with a paired chapter from each Testament (the First & the New) of the Bible along with Today’s Proverbs and Psalms

A post by John Parsons about good (eventually) coming about:

Happy Chanukah, chaverim.…

From the beginning of last week’s Torah portion (Vayeshev) until the very end of Sefer Bereshit (the Book of Genesis), the focus shifts from the patriarch Jacob to his twelve sons, and particularly to his beloved son Joseph (יוֹסֵף). Recall that Joseph's jealous brothers had stripped him of his "coat of many colors" and then mercilessly threw him into a pit -- a providential event that eventually led to the deliverance of the Jewish people by the hand of a "disguised savior." Indeed, story of Joseph’s ordeal is a story of divine hashgachah (providential supervision) that foretells the glory of Yeshua our Messiah, both as the Suffering Servant and as a national deliverer of Israel.

Parashat Vayeshev begins, “Jacob settled (vayeshev Ya’akov) in the land of his father's sojourning, in the land of Canaan” (Gen. 37:1), but then immediately turns to the story of Joseph, who was seventeen years old at the time: "And these were the generations of Jacob: Joseph being seventeen years old..." (Gen. 37:2). Why does the toldot (genealogy) of Jacob begin with Joseph rather than Reuben (the firstborn son of Leah) here? Was the Torah suggesting that Joseph was regarded by Jacob as his (chosen) “firstborn” son?

Jacob and Joseph undoubtedly shared a lot in common, and this surely caused Jacob to prefer his firstborn son (of Rachel) over his other sons. For instance, both men had infertile mothers who had difficulty in childbirth; both mothers bore two sons; and both were hated by their brothers. In addition, the Torah states that Jacob loved Joseph more than all his other sons since he was the son of his old age, and was the firstborn son (bechor) of his beloved wife Rachel. Indeed, Jacob made him an ornamented tunic (ketonet passim) to indicate his special status in the family.

At any rate, the Talmud (Sanhedrin 106a) notes that whenever the word vayeshev (וַיֵּשֶׁב) is mentioned in Torah, it introduces a painful episode. Immediately following the statement that “Jacob settled (vayeshev Ya’akov) in the land of his father’s sojourning,” the Torah states that Joseph brought an “evil report” about his brothers to his father. This act ultimately led to the selling of Joseph into slavery and to further heartache for Israel. The Jewish sage Rashi notes that whenever someone called by God wants to “settle down” and live at ease, God orchestrates events to keep him free from complacency. This certainly happened in the case of Jacob, where sibling rivalry and baseless hatred (called sinat chinam: שִׂנְאַת חִנָּם) so disrupted the peace of the family that his children were eventually led into exile and slavery.

But there is redemption and healing, even in the midst of betray and loss... We note that Joseph was sent by his father from the "depth of Hebron" (מֵעֵמֶק חֶבְרוֹן) to seek the welfare of his brothers (Gen. 37:14). Hebron (חֶבְרוֹן) is one of the very first places Abraham lived after he entered the Promised Land (Gen. 13:18). The word itself comes from a root (ח.ב.ר) that means "union," or "friendship," suggesting that from the depth of family union would come struggle but eventual deliverance. The "depths of Hebron" therefore suggests that Joseph's assignment was ultimately redemptive in nature - to restore love to the family by means of God’s providential salvation...

[ Hebrew for Christians ]

========

Psalm 130:1-2a reading:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/psalm130-1-2a-jjp.mp3

Hebrew page:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/psalm130-1-2a-lesson.pdf

12.7.23 • Facebook

from yesterday’s email by Israel 365:

I’d like to suggest that the words “at that time,” at the beginning of Genesis 38, refer to the end of the story. In other words, in the wake of the sale of Joseph, Judah decided that he would never again shirk responsibility, even at risk to his own life and honor. Then, when confronted by his own guilt in the Tamar situation, Judah publicly repented and took full responsibility, regardless of the damage to his own reputation. Genesis 38 interrupts the Joseph story because Judah’s personal development, as demonstrated in chapter 38, was a direct result of Judah’s feelings of guilt in the wake of the sale of his brother.

Genesis 38 is the story of the emergence of Judah as the leader of Israel, and forefather of the royal line of David. The Bible teaches us that the prerequisites of this leadership are humility, admission of one’s guilt before God and man, and doing what is right regardless of the risk to one’s status and even one’s own life.

Today’s message (Days of Praise) from the Institute for Creation Research

December 10, 2023

The Man of God

“But thou, O man of God, flee these things; and follow after righteousness, godliness, faith, love, patience, meekness.” (1 Timothy 6:11)

There are just two places in the New Testament where a person is called a “man of God” (both of which are in Paul’s letters to Timothy), and they reveal the attributes that warrant us to call someone a man (or woman) of God.

The first occurrence, found in our text, tells us that such a person should, first of all, not be one who loves money and the material things money can buy, for “the love of money is the root of all evil” (see previous verse, 1 Timothy 6:10). Instead, his pursuit should be after personal righteousness and godliness, as well as stronger faith, more genuine love for others, more patience, and true meekness.

Speaking of meekness (not weakness), Moses was called “the man of God” in the very first use of this phrase in the whole Bible, and we are told that “the man Moses was very meek, above all the men which were upon the face of the earth” (Numbers 12:3). Yet, he was able to lead two million Israelites out of slavery in Egypt and then through 40 years in the Sinai desert.

The second New Testament reference to the “man of God” is in reference to his use of the Scriptures. He will recognize that “all scripture is given by inspiration of God....That the man of God may be perfect, throughly furnished unto all good works” (2 Timothy 3:16-17).

Thus, the essential characteristics of a true man of God will be a great desire for personal righteousness, godliness, faith, love, patience, and strong meekness, accompanied by the avoidance of any taint of greed or covetousness. In terms of his Christian beliefs, he will have an unshakable confidence in the verbal inerrant truth and authority of the Holy Scriptures. HMM

[mozillavulpix]

I should write these things down, so I will

I’m not *trying* to make a crossover between some of my favourite genres, but there really feels like untapped potential on their overlap

Magical Girls are kind of like exorcists.

Often they’re fighting some kind of embodiment of negative emotions and that’s basically where ghosts and supernatural horror things come from.

If Magical Girls really do have a power to purify the restless spirits of long-held grudges and despair with the Power of Love and Friendship...

all I’m saying is we need a supernatural detective who’s a Magical Girl with zero shame and irony in it.

Someone who goes to the haunted house and says “I can feel your pain and suffering, but you don’t have to be filled with hate anymore” and maybe does that by shooting them with lasers too

extra story ideas under the cut

If you want to do a “ordinary person gets plunged into the world of the supernatural and curses and basically Jujutsu Kaisen”, why not do the Jujutsu Kaisen and have them accidentally fuse with a cursed being and that’s where their powers come from. Except this one probably isn’t evil because these things don’t need to be demonic and it’s my power fantasy you can get superpowers without having it corrupt your body in gross ways

maybe something to do with an ancient Miko and maybe it ties into ancient times and Queen Himiko because we sure don’t have the same equivalent in our religions. 

I don’t want to do the cultural appropriation ‘white saviour’ crap but god I really can’t imagine a version based on our culture without it feeling either unrealistic or something that’d piss off hardcore religious people. And Magical Girls are such a super-Japanese thing anyway, it’d at least fit...the aesthetic if the lore behind it is all based on Japanese history and mythology.

what I’m trying to say is I have ideas forming for...a pitch, you could say. I can’t draw, I don’t write much fiction and I have no understanding of market forces, but by god do I have themes and emotions

either as a magical girl story with them learning to use their powers, or a detective story where they’re an adult and used to it and using it as a (part-time?) job

[rocorambles]

Ruined Innocence

Pairing: Fallen Angel!Daichi x Angel!Reader

Genre/Warnings: Yandere, NSFW, Manipulation, Dub-Con/Non-Con, Tentacles-ish, Forced Bondage, Corruption Kink, Dacryphilia

Summary: Not everyone is what they appear to be and you learn that the hard way.

A/N: This is for @seijorhi 's Deal with the Devil Collab! Masterlist can be found here.

You don’t love the way older angels endearingly pinch your cheeks and fondly ruffle the top of your head, sending you off on your way as they go about their chores. But you love the freedom to explore that comes with your new wings and you flit around heaven, adventuring out to the corners of the beautiful realm, eyes sparkling and mouth open wide in wonder as you see visions and scenes you wouldn’t even have been able to imagine back when you were a human.

Most angels congregate with each other, floating and meandering together as they perform their heavenly duties, content with harmony and unity. But maybe because your newly purified soul is still finding its way, you feel antsy, a very human adventurous streak still driving you as you sniff out remote and quiet corners, eager to see what’s around every corner.

There’s not a hint of wariness or sense of danger as you trek around, squealing as you continue testing your wings. Maybe it’s naivety, but who can blame you? You’re in heaven. Why would you ever think anything or anyone would harm you here?

Little do you know the archangels whisper to each other, sentries standing guard at every known opening between realms as the threat of warfare and espionage increases between heaven and hell after a devastating betrayal by one of God’s own most trusted archangels.

Sawamura Daichi.

It’s a name and a face that God has striked from heaven’s history, wiping the minds of anyone outside his inner circle clear of to maintain peace among the realm. And it works. Maybe too well.

A handsome brunette amusedly smiles at the lack of fear and recognition in your face as you cheerfully greet him, not a care in the world as you perk up and fly over to him, curious about the strange angel you’ve never met before.

Daichi had only meant to sneak in and out, hopefully spy and return back to hell with any secret information he could get out of his old fellow archangels. But like an attuned predator, his attention had snapped at the pretty little fawn he had seen playing in the outskirts of heaven, so vulnerable, so far from the rest of your feathery flock. And his mouth had salivated, something dark and yearning inside of him as he imagined how delicious corrupting your soft and sweet soul would be.

There’s no lack of powerful, beautiful, sensual female entities in hell willing to warm his bed. Daichi knows from firsthand experience, rarely spending a night alone. Even eternity is too short not to indulge in the sins of the flesh. But a part of him misses the docile submissive natures of angels, the thrill of power he feels knowing how easily his more angelic partners would listen and obey to his every whim and fancy. Playing with your food is all fun and games, but Daichi’s always found the actual act of devouring to be the best part of any meal. And you look absolutely mouth watering.

It doesn’t concern you that you’ve never seen this handsome angel before. Heaven is vast and as a novice angel, you’re sure there’s plenty of feathery companions you haven’t met yet. You’re more pleasantly surprised by the fact that there even is another angel in your secluded nook of the realm. And you’re quick to get comfortable with Daichi (although you blush when he so quickly tells you to call him by his first name).

He’s kind and funny. You can tell he’s actually listening to your every word and not just politely nodding like most of the other older angels you’ve met so far. He has a certain vibrancy to him that you can’t pinpoint, something so much more raw and vivid than what you’re used to from the more austere and demure palette of the rest of heaven.

But you startle when Daichi suddenly reaches out and slowly trails his fingers along the soft velvety plush of your wings, eliciting a startled gasp from you and a strange stirring feeling inside of you.

“They’re so pure and white.”

You try to laugh off the way your heart is pounding, the way your body wants to instinctively lean in closer to his warm touch as he continues languidly stroking your wings.

“Don’t be silly, Daichi. I’m sure your wings are just as pure and white, just like everyone else in this realm.”

You’re confused by his silent smile as he continues lacing his fingers between your downy feathers, but you don’t think to question it, not when it feels so right to just melt in the soothing feeling.

You don’t know how much time has passed, but you startle awake when someone nudges you, face heating in embarrassment when you realize you’ve fallen asleep quite literally in Daichi’s arms. But you shyly smile when he waves off your profuse apologies, playfully whispering that you can make it up to him by keeping your meeting with him a secret so he doesn’t get in trouble for slacking off on work to hang out with you.

Your lips are sealed and in return for your slightly naughty deal, your heart warms and your eyes sparkle when he somehow finds you almost every day. You’re tempted to make a game of it, wondering if you made more of an effort to hide if he’d still find you. But somehow deep inside you know he would, that it wouldn’t deter him at all. And that thought alone brings a smile to yourself.

Is this what having a soulmate feels like? Do angels even have soulmates?

You know marriage is still a thing in this realm and you can feel yourself falling more and more head over heels for Daichi, letting yourself dream and think of what life would be like married to him, by his side for all of eternity. It would be a wondrous thing. A life full of adventures, laughter, kindness, and warmth. A life where you know you could always depend on him and trust him.

So when he kisses you one day, wrapping his strong arms around you and pulling you in close, you don’t resist. Instead you sigh in bliss as you feel your lips meld against each other. He’s so gentle, so careful as he deepens your connection, coaxing you into following his lead as he maneuvers the two of you on the wispy cloud cocoon beneath your feet.

You feel so loved, so taken care of as he murmurs sweet praises in your ear about how beautiful you are, how soft you are, how sweet you taste. But when you find yourself horizontal beneath him, scandalously molded to his body, hesitation and apprehension have you reluctantly separating your lips.

“What’s wrong?”

His hand cups your cheek, brown eyes staring down at you in concern and you feel more at ease as you nuzzle against his palm, gently pecking the center of it, ignorant of the way brown eyes darken at the action.

He’s going to fucking ruin you.

“Can we- Can we slow down a bit? I love you, but we shouldn’t go any further until God blesses our relationship and we’re married. Right?”

It’s adorable how you know what’s right by heavenly standards, what you should and shouldn’t be doing. Yet there’s still a questioning lilt in your voice as you look at him for guidance, ready to take his lead and listen to whatever he says. You really are precious, aren’t you?

“We’ll be together forever. So what’s the harm in indulging ourselves now if we know that we’ll be bound for eternity anyway? Consider it a little sneak peek. Surely God will be forgiving if we go straight to him after this and ask him to bless our union.”

Hook. Line. Sinker.

He internally smirks at how your eyes light up when he expresses his desire to be with you. To his defense, it’s not a lie. He truly does want you with him forever, although he doubts it’s in the way you’re thinking. He’s no mind reader, but he can imagine the scenes of soft radiant glowing days and peaceful strolls hand in hand that race through your mind when you think of love. Unfortunately for you, the reality you’re being sucked into is much darker and much more stationary. (He sincerely hopes you appreciate the costs and efforts he’s gone through to spruce up his bedroom and bed as much as possible for your long-term stay considering it’s the only place he intends for you to see for at least a few centuries.)

This time you welcome him when he swoops down to capture your lips once more, your arms gently wrapping around the back of his neck as you pull him down even closer to you. You bare your neck, easily following his silent commands as he trails kisses down from the corner of your lips to the side of your neck, gasping and arching into him when his tongue swipes a hot wet line at the junction of your shoulder.

You’re nervous as he coaxes you out of your delicate clothing and his cock twitches in interest at how you try to instinctively shield your body from his eyes, your arms crossing your chest, thighs clenching together. So different from the shameless females down below and he enjoys how it feels like he’s unwrapping an exclusive present as he eases your body, comfortingly kissing you as he guides your hands above your head and nudges your legs apart until he’s in between them.

You moan, writhing underneath him in a way that makes him groan as he sucks one of your nipples, rolling the other between his fingers. And he can’t resist how right it feels to grind and rut his clothed cock against your bare core, chuckling at how you whine and get flustered as he whispers to you about how wet you are, how much of a mess you’re making of his clothing.

You’re so sensitive, so reactive. He wonders if you could cum just like this, nipples toyed with and humping like wild beasts. You certainly look like you’re almost there and a mean smile splays across his face when he wonders what God would think if he saw his baby angel now, a lewd blissful expression blatant on your face, wanton moans filling the air. But time is limited especially when he’s not on his own turf and as much as he’d like to ruin you over and over again right here, right now, he knows he needs to deal the final blow.

He’s quick to shed his own clothing, firmly wrapping your spread legs around him as he finally sinks his cock inch by inch inside of you, throwing his own head back in pleasure as your tight wet walls wrap around him, eagerly sucking him in and clenching around him. It’s like you were made for him, made for this. And his eyes ravenously watch as you mindlessly blabber on and on about feeling full, feeling good.

He doesn’t usually like noisy bed mates, but you might be the one exception and he revels in your wails and broken cries as he begins to move his hips back and forth, observing how his fat cock obscenely stretches your pretty folds as he thrusts in and out. It’s impressive how you’re still hanging by a single fraying strand of consciousness when even seasoned succubi have succumbed into mindless pleasure-addicted messes from his cock. And he gifts the slipping clarity of your mind that recognizes him and calls his name over and over again with skillful circles around your clit, relentless until you’re thrashing and convulsing, practically screaming as you fall over the edge, pussy milking him and begging for his essence.

Who is he to deny you what your body wants? What your body needs? What he himself wants and needs?

So he finally lets himself go, sealing the deal with his own release, eyes twinkling in crazed amusement as his own wings finally flair out, revealing themselves to you for the first time as his body lances with pleasure. A sound halfway between a laugh and a groan escapes him as fear has you tightening around him and if he thought you looked beautiful before, you’re absolutely stunning now, shock and disbelief slicing across your perfect angelic face when you fully grasp the importance of his pitch black wings that shadow the both of you.

“Don’t be like that, sweetheart. I thought you loved me.”

There’s no point in pretending to be gentle now and he forcefully pins your body down, slamming his lips against yours in a bruising kiss, biting on your lower lip and lapping at the blood that drips from your now marred face. Delicious. So fucking exquisite.

It’s tempting to continue and as he pulls away to regard you, he can feel arousal swirling inside of him at the sight of glistening tears streaming down your face. But he’s curious about your reaction, eager to hear what you have to say about this utter betrayal.

“A fallen angel…I slept with a fallen angel. How am I ever going to face God now?”

You’re not even looking at him anywhere, eyes glazed over as you mumble to yourself, mind still trying to process everything. And as pretty as you are with agony and sickening realization settling into your features, he scowls at the mention of God, irritation swelling inside of him at how fast you are to think of Him over Daichi, the fallen angel literally still inside of you.

He’s swift in his punishment, reminding you exactly where you are and who you’re with right now as he sharply juts his hips in a way that forces a surprised shriek from you as his cock rubs against your still sensitive walls.

“God isn’t your problem anymore, love. Look at your wings.”

Every part of you still in denial screams at you not to listen, to pretend none of this has happened, is happening. You want to believe God can make this right, that he’ll surely forgive you. But as if you’re in one of those inevitable horror films you used to watch as a human, your head slowly turns to the side, body going rigid when you see the expanse of ebony feathers where heavenly white used to be.

Now this reaction is much more satisfying and Daichi inhales your fear, a cold smile on his face as he watches you flail, wings wildly flapping as you try to somehow shake off the color, praying that it’s all a lie, that it’s not entirely irreversible. But he pins your wrists above your head when you attempt to painfully pluck out your own offensive feathers, peppering humiliatingly affectionate kisses all over your face to placate you.

“Please stop. Isn’t this enough? You got what you wanted. Tricked the silly angel. Made me an exile, a monster. There’s no place for me in heaven anymore. So just leave me alone. Please.”

You shudder at the dark laugh that seems to echo in your ears with his face right besides yours, cringing when you feel his wings droop down to rest against your own in an action far too intimate for what the two of you are.

“It’s not enough, darling. It’ll never be enough. But you’re right about one thing. You’re no longer welcomed in heaven, so let me bring you to your new home.”

You barely have time to understand the meaning of his words before you’re being whisked away, strong arms holding you tightly to a broad chest, the air around you growing darker, heavier, warmer. And then suddenly everything is still and you gasp as you’re thrown onto a silky plush surface, scrambling to sit up only to freeze in terror as you take in the grand and imposing bedroom you’re in, cold realization of exactly whose bed you’re currently on and what realm you’re in sinking in.

“No no no no no...At least let me go to Earth!”

You make to lunge off the bed, but an eerily familiar body forces you back down, once comforting brown eyes now only making anxiety churn alarmingly inside of you.

“I know it’s hard to believe me after all the lies, but I wasn’t lying about one thing. I do intend to be with you forever, so get comfortable, angel.”

You recoil at the mocking sneer associated with the pet name, the ironic use of the word disintegrating any fight left in you when the true hopelessness of your situation makes itself known. And Daichi watches in satisfaction at how you don’t even twitch as black shadows coil around your wrist and ankles, pulling you into a spread-eagled position, leaving your beautiful naked figure on full display for him.

But as despondent as you are mentally and emotionally, your body is already well on its way to adjusting and molding to his desires and he hungrily eyes the way it betrays you, arching and silently begging for more as additional shadow tendrils snake their way on and around every inch of you, some tendrils beginning to make their way in your gaping mouth, your still cum-filled hole, and oh...maybe he should have warned you that he planned on training all your holes, but he does so love the way your eyes blow wide open when a curios tendril wiggles its way into your puckered hole.

“Consider this your new full-time job, angel. Can’t have you living here rent-free after all. Now be good while I’m away and try not to be so loud. Wouldn’t want anyone else to hear you and decide they want a taste of a new fallen angel. I guarantee you no one else down here in hell is going to be as patient and kind as I am. Welcome to your new forever home.”

He doesn’t wait for a response, not that you’d be able to utter anything remotely intelligible around your screams and moans and the tendrils fucking your mouth. And as he makes his way to another meeting with Satan, he proudly flaunts his pitch black wings, a thoughtful smile on his face as he thinks of all the plans he has for you.

[shurelyasreverie]

Hi, I am new here. I like your work. May I request a Viego x reader wherein Viego falls madly in love with a Paladin who was sent to purify/ purge the shadow isles of corruption

welcome to the blog! I hope you enjoy all the future works to come, this request included 😊 (I think I made Viego kind of a yandere? Although canonically he pretty much already is?? That’s the appeal to him, right???)

Viego x Reader: You Will Stay

Sent to the Shadow Isles to purify the land, you’ll sacrifice anything to rid the land of the Black Mist. But will that also include sacrificing yourself?

Word Count: 1891

Many said you were doing the work of the gods, the Aspects had delivered you to slowly return the former haven of Runeterra back to it's former glory. It was your calling, the magic that coursed through you was the direct antithesis of whatever sorcery destroyed the Blessed Isles. So when the council of your land heard of your gift, you were instructed to slowly purge the Black Mist before it consumed all of Runeterra.

You weren't briefed on much prior to your arrival here. The Ruination was so many centuries ago, what truly happened was been distorted through myths and word of mouth. You've heard everything from monsters to heartache to murder, and as curious as you were, you were ready to accept you might never know what happened all those years ago.

First stepping onto the darkened land, a chill instantly slithered up your spine. You could feel the tendrils of the Black Mist engulfing you you, wrapping around you with its cold fingers. Goosebumps covered any of your bare skin. The uneasy feeling in your stomach wouldn't die down but you willed yourself to steel your nerves. Looking around, it was clear that you were alone. The only living thing around as you could only see the faint green light of distant, wandering souls. You couldn't shake off the feeling of being watched but you blamed it on the Mist, how it rolled in waves, consuming all of the land. How it pulsed like a heartbeat, like it was someone's lifeline. You took a deep breath. It was more than just a cloud, it was a creature that grew. As you used your magic to will it away, it only recoiled from your touch but swelled around you, determined to keep pushing the boundaries. Determined to find something.

This task was going to prove harder than originally thought.

After a few hours of unsuccessfully keeping the fog at bay, you realised that the only way to truly get rid of the Black Mist was to find the heart of it. Standing up straight, you looked into the Mist but it was fully opaque. Taking a deep breath, you kept your weapon at the ready as you delved deeper into the darkness.

The only company you had was the many souls trapped in the Mist. Many green orbs of lost souls were naïve and terrified, if you could, you'd grant them your aid, using your magic to enlighten them to the spirit realm. However some had become driven to anguish by whatever horrors were in the Shadow Isles, growing into humanoid wraiths that would try to rip you from limb to limb with their bare claws. You would send them down with your weapon, empowered by your purifying magic and then run further into the Mist before any other wraiths would check the commotion.

On the third day you had evaporated a small cluster of wraiths. Despite the fight being over, you couldn't quell your adrenaline, your heart racing as panic rose inside you. Your instincts alarmed you that you were being watched. It was more than just the encompassing presence of the Mist, you could feel a gaze drilling into the back of your skull, how it wandered across your body. But every time you turned to look behind you, no matter how fast or how unpredictable you tried to make it, you'd see nothing but darkness. Perhaps it was impact of spending night and day in such a paranoia inducing land? You steeled your nerves once again.

The next day, you had found a soul that actually communicated with you. Such souls were rare to find, many would dart away from your presence, others remained still and silent as you tried to guide them to the realm beyond. But this soul had been wandering for many years, their age shown by their declined sanity. It was hard to fully decipher what the soul was saying but you managed to figure out some pointers on what happened all those years ago. An obsessive king, hellbent on keeping his wife alive.

“And what was his name?” You asked and the soul told you. Despite never hearing such a name before, you felt a shiver down your spine and you instinctively looked around, as if using his name called him to you.

After five days of travel, you found yourself at the foot of a decrepit castle. Your soul companion told you this was the place. The tops of the towers and battlements had eroded, none of the roofs remained. You struggled to maintain your balance on the jagged cobblestones as you carefully made your way up. Hands on your weapon, you turned back to see the soul staying in place. It refused to travel any further to the castle. Thanking it for it's aid, you sent it to the spirit realm.

You were now truly alone.

The castle was free of any souls or wraiths. The silence was deafening as you could only hear your shoes against the stones and your slow, methodical breathing. The Mist was at its thickest here, it was almost a struggle to breathe. Your magic helped ease the Mist around you and you caught your breath. If this Black Mist was related to this ruined king, you figured the best place to start looking for the centre of the Black Mist was at the throne room.

Pushing a large door open, you cringed at how loudly it screeched against the floor. You had to be quick, there was a good chance a wraith outside heard it. Looking up, in the middle of the throne room, stood a towering throne, its back facing to you. The furniture must've been almost twice your height, blocking any vision of what was in front of it. But you could see the pitch black tendrils of Mist that flowed and spilled off of the throne. You found it. Letting out a sigh of relief, you hurried to the front of the throne.

You chocked out a scream as you came face to face with a man. His emerald eyes held a knowing look as he smirked. Sitting on the throne, head resting on one of his ivory hands, he waved his other with a flourish. Tendrils of Mist shot out from behind him and wrapped around your limbs, pulling you down onto your knees.

“Ah, the purifier has come,” the man taunted, his voice echoing against the hollow walls of the throne room. “Did they really think that one daring little soul could stop me?”

You stared at the man in confusion. This wasn't part of the job brief! Your job was simply to restore the Shadow Isles, not get subdued by the seeming creator of all darkness. Who even was he...?

“Viego,” you whispered, before you could even stop yourself. It was the name the soul told you. You had no idea what he was meant to look like, but somewhere in your heart told him he was the one. His head twitched and his expression softened.

“That is right,” he praised. “But it isn't fair if only you know my name. Tell me, purifier, what is yours?”

“Wait... how do you know that I can purify...?”

“My dear,” Viego chuckled as he leaned down to your level, his face filling your vision. “The Black Mist flows through me. It is a part of me. The instant you entered the Shadow Isles I felt you.”

His hand went up, his fingers tracing your jawline. You watched as Viego let out a sigh, closing his eyes in relief for a brief moment. “Your magic... that warmth. I haven't felt it since-”

Taking advantage of his distracted state, you sent your magic coursing through your body. The tendrils that latched onto you dissipated into thin air and you scrambled up to your feet. However Viego already predicted your movements. A green sword was in his hand, the tip mere millimetres away from your neck as he stood straight. You didn't dare swallow.

When you made eye contact with him, he immediately frowned. “I apologise for my brashness, my dear. But you must understand, you can't leave.”

Pulling the blade back, you heard the door of the throne room behind you close by the Black Mist. Rigid, you couldn't bring yourself to move as Viego stalked closer to you, his hand reaching out and gently curling around to the nape of your neck.

“The instant I saw you I knew you were special. How much did you sacrifice to come here even though you wouldn't gain anything? How much are you willing to sacrifice to restore this land? Such selflessness, such purity.”

“When did you see me?” You asked. Viego smiled.

“Whenever you felt it, I was there, my dear. Watching you dutifully march all the way here was warming. And I had to make sure the wraiths wouldn't deter you, and I most certainly couldn't let them hurt you. I watched you every step of the way.”

Your heart dropped and you could swear Viego must've sensed it as his smile turned to a scowl.

“Why do you respond that way? Am I repulsive to you?”

His grip on the base of your neck tightened, making harder to breathe as you stammered out a no. He then started to rub the back of your neck comfortingly, before letting it trail down your arm and holding onto your hand.

“Let me feel your magic, my love.”

You reluctantly did as you were told and Viego brought your hand up to cup his face. You stifled a gasp as through your magic, for a brief glimpse, you got to see Viego in his past life. Tanned skin with flowing brown hair the only similarity was his bright green eyes that shone with pure warmth. But after that flash you were left with Viego's current, deathly white pallor as he pressed his head into your hands.

“Who are you calling 'my love'?”

“Is there anyone else in this room?” He regarded you warmly. “I can tell you are the one.”

You gently pulled away from him, taking a step back and shaking your head. “I don't even know you.”

“But you knew my name? You know how this land came to be, yes? You know more than enough.”

“I was just sent to try and purify these lands.”

“And you will,” Viego rushed up to you, taking your hands in his, pressing them against his cold chest. “Stay with me and I shall be ruined no more. Your presence purifies me, and in turn, the land shall be purified with me.”

Viegos' arms started to reach around you, wrapping you in his arms. He pulled you into him, your cheek against his chest but you heard no heartbeat. Angling your head more, you looked back to the throne room doors to see them completely engulfed in his Black Mist. There was no way out.

“Your name, my dear?”

“... (Y/N),” you responded, surrendering to your fate. You felt his chest rumble as he repeated your name, testing the syllables. He instinctively smiled.

“(Y/N), my dear. Stay with me.”

You doubted you had a choice.

[k-s-morgan]

Hi! This isn’t an ask, but more of a rambling that I deemed too long for the comments, that stems from your post claiming Book of Circus as your favourite Black Butler episodes. and to that I say - YES. Book of Murder is a masterpiece. It houses one of my favourite scenes - the one where Sebastian says: "This wasn't a scenario decided by God or fate, but one decided on by my master, with timing decided by my master. I was killed by the criminal expected by my master, by the Hione who came to torment my master", which really captures the essence of whole 'Ciel vs God' dynamic that's woven into the duration of the show.

Throughout the plot, there are three major instances in which an offering is made to Ciel - offerings of redemption. The first is from Angela - a chance to purify himself and have an afterlife - which he so vehemently rejects in the knowledge that he quite literally *is* his darkness, and therefore refuses to rid himself of it.

The second is comes from Abberline in his death, where in his final words he tells Ciel he has a chance to take back his future. And Ciel has to watch him die with the knowledge that he has already made up his mind about his fate. I don't think he's so affected because he regrets selling his soul. I don't think he suddenly wants to live, or no longer wishes for revenge. But I believe the reason he is so affected by Abberline's death is because he holds a sentimentality for him that is not dissimilar to the one he feels for Elizabeth. Ciel is cruel, I don't think he regrets the steps he has taken to get to this point, nor the ones he knows he must take in the future. But though he is cruel, I believe he has a sort of fond curiosity for the untainted goodness that characterises those like Abberline and Elizabeth. Like you said before, he feels condescension towards the man perhaps due to the naivety his blind heroism implies, but I think his attachments to him come from an underlying curiosity to see if such goodness can exist in such a corrupted world - a silent hope to be proven wrong in his cynicism. When Abberline dies, that very hope he didn't even know he had gets shattered. It brings about a sort of forced perspective that makes Ciel question himself in ways we haven't seen before.

Abberline's death had been avoidable and it was certainly in vain. Abberline had died for someone who had already made up his mind - someone who had rejected God once before and would do it time and time again as proven in the anime. Ciel is such an interesting character because, although he is dark, he still values the light and makes some sort of effort to preserve it in spite of the contempt he feels for them. It is the thought of dying in vain that seems to bother him so greatly, not death itself. No, Abberline dying isn't enough for him to want to live again, or to even think about throwing away his revenge - that was never in question. But it is enough to extinguish the lingering flicker of hope he had for humanity (despite being so distanced from term himself).

This, combined with the disappointment he feels at Sebastian's actions, causes the existential haze of uncertainty that leads to the third and final offering. And the most surprising thing is that this offering comes from Sebastian himself. He senses the doubt in Ciel and, like every thought the boy experiences, fails to understand it. He mistakes it for him second-guessing his revenge and decides to discontinue their contract. But he isn't angry - that much is clear. Instead, he wishes him to "forget everything and have pleasant dreams", with a rather wistful expression on his face. What this line ends up reading as is a bittersweet  goodbye from the demon - an offering for Ciel to let go of his revenge and find happiness in the afterlife with his now soon approaching death.  There is almost a strong disappointment in him, but is not resentful of it - Ciel is human and he can't keep expecting him not to be. His offering almost acts as a thank you for the moments of excitement their contract had given his monotone life and I believe that is why he makes it.

He sticks around to see if Ciel accepts his offer, though already expecting him to, and is there to witness the very moment the boy rejects it. Gone is the uncertainty of Abberline's death and the Paris crisis, and Ciel, the Earl of Phantomhive, returns to him - sharper, colder, more ruthless than ever. Sebastian realises his misjudgement and returns to his side, ready for the final battle. Killing an angel. It's laughably symbolic.

The rejections of God, the evasion of the Hope Diamond's curse (where he even wore two rings as if to taunt the fates), the references in Book of Murder - they all depict this metaphorical sort of battle between Ciel and God. And the ending of Kuroshitsuji II is the depicts how he triumphs over fate, claiming his rightful place as an immortalised creature of Hell.

I know I've gone on a bit of a tangent here in your inbox, but that one quote from Book of Murder is so symbolic to me in the way it sets up the comparison between Ciel and God (in which 'God' represents power over fate).

Before I sign off, though, I just want to make light of the existence of the show's final offering, occurring in the last few minutes of the series. This last offering has nothing too do with God, nothing to do with any complex battle between the Phantomhive and fate, but is much simpler than that. In fact, the final offering of the show comes from Ciel, and he gives it to Sebastian - it's almost poetic, is it not?

"Are you sure you don't want to pull it any tighter?"

In this single, unassuming line, Ciel is asking Sebastian if he wants to kill him, and release himself from the eternal contract they've found themselves in. Such a noble and dignified soul as Ciel would always be sure to make through on his word and, despite the loophole that now extends their contract, he would still be willing to let Sebastian kill him should he wish to do so. The man may no longer be able to take his soul, but the boy can still give the order to kill him and free himself. Ciel's respect for Sebastian is complex and contradictory at times, but what never changes is his willingness to die by his hands and see through to his side of the contract.

“Is it over? The one who plunged me into bottomless darkness… I don’t even know why she did it.”

In the episode where Angela is crushed by the Church, Ciel offers his soul to Sebastian. Even when unsatisfied with the result, his unwavering nobility led him to make good on their deal and fulfil his end of the contract. The earl faced the demon, his expression calm, and with a steady voice said “A promise is a promise. Take it.”

This unwavering dignity and nobility he holds in himself I believe is the reason for this offering and Sebastian's turn to reject it is almost a 'love confession' (as you have brought me to see it) in itself.

As a final sort of note - I just wanted to let you know that, since reading your reply to my comment on TGSTLTH (from a while ago), I brought myself to rewatch Kuroshitsuji II with your interpretation in mind and ended up really enjoying it. You've singlehandedly made me do a complete 180 on a season I previously hated - looks like I had just watched it from the wrong perspective. So, for that, I thank you

Hey! Sorry for getting to your ask just now. I absolutely loved it :D And yes, Book of Murder is a masterpiece - I still remember watching it for the first time. It was late at night, I had to go to bed, everyone was sleeping, but I kept watching because stopping just wasn't an option, I had to know what happened next.

Ciel vs God is such an interesting topic. In some ways, Ciel and Sebastian exist in their own universe where there is no place for anyone else. There is a God aka Ciel and a demon aka Sebastian. And they are both allies and adversaries at the same time - they are tormenting each other and uniting to torment others.

I agree absolutely that Ciel holds a fondness for certain people, with Lizzy and Abberline being a good example. He has a degree of contempt and irritation for them, but they do mean something to him. Ciel's curiosity is a big and detached thing, and this places him on Sebastian's level in such an interesting way because sometimes it's almost like Ciel isn't human himself - humanity intrigues him as if he doesn't belong to it. His fascination with the light just underlines his affinity with the darkness.

I have many thoughts about Ciel's behavior during the days following Abberline's death, and you certainly introduced many excellent points! My general opinion on Ciel's motives is... complicated. I agree that he never felt like really giving up his revenge and trying to live a 'happy' life - he knew it's not for him at that stage already. However, I feel like Abberline's parting words affected him a lot, even if briefly. When Abberline tells him that he can start everything from the beginning, Ciel sounds absolutely heartbroken when he confesses, "I don't have a future." The way he acts later, telling Sebastian to stop and not kill the angel, hesitating, reinforces this idea to me. I think you described it best - Ciel is having an existential crisis. It's not like he suddenly regrets his decisions, but he's temporary unanchored and unsure what he wants and what he should do. Having a dream where Abberline urges him to give up his hatred also seems to affect Ciel, but it's so telling that he wakes up and immediately says, "Sebastian." It's a fascinating arc and I can't wait to explore it.

I love your words about three offerings - so true. And I'm so happy you liked S2 when watching it from a new perspective! I used to be so confused as to why people hated it: it's not perfect, but I thought it was amazing in many ways, especially its bittersweet ending.

[ddarker-dreams]

A Still Beating Heart. Yan Alucard x Reader [COMM]

warnings: isolation and mentions of blood word count: 2k

To free yourself from the clutches of your room means to explore this archaic mansion, in search of some form of solace. 

The hallways are long-winding, foreboding. Drawn curtains block out sunlight’s kiss, leaving naught but sinister shadows at the end of each hall, indecipherable to the naked eye. Wood in colors consisting of rich hickory are present at every turn, impeccably clean and detailed in their carvings. Atop antique sideboards sit various trinkets, surely a finding any archaeologist would die to examine. You’ve been told that what’s his is yours, to help yourself to any treasures that capture your eye. What use are the finest, exotic luxuries from centuries past in a prison like this? 

Candlelight guides you on your way, though you worry it’s damaging your eyesight. Squinting has become far too common for your liking, to make out where it is you’re going is a challenge when natural light is forbidden. Old floorboards creak underneath your tentative steps, leading you to inhale sharply. Does it even matter if you make a noise that could possibly alert him? Even now, your gut warns that there is another set of eyes set upon your figure. Watching as you weave in and out of rooms in search of entertainment, internally snuffing out sinister intentions that you draw out like water from a well. 

The fear of being watched, studied like an animal in a cage while remaining none the wiser to the horrors in the walls has faded with time. Birthed from a primitive drive centered around preservation of the self, to keep your sanity in a delicate balance. Every flicker of candlelight, that cast shadows upon its surroundings, used to frighten you. To the point any sign of movement, any sound without an immediately identifiable source, would render you inconsolable. Now, you choose to pay it little mind, having grown acquainted with the unknown. 

Your destination has been reached, lithe fingers wrapped around the silver candlestick placing it down on a nearby wooden console. The door is unlocked, opening easily at your prompting, candlestick back in hand to illuminate the seemingly unending maze of bookshelves. A sigh of relief makes its way past your lips, grateful for the reprieve before you. Entertainment is sparse, reading one of the few reliable sources of passing the time. How thoughtful of him to grant this sparse freedom, bitterness growing inside you like a thorn covered vine. 

Fingertips brush over the spines of numerous books, and you closely examine the detailings of each one. The languages you can recognize are few and far between, from Romanian to Turkish. Reading in a language you can’t understand will do you no good, so you settle upon one of the few English titles. The Castle of Otranto, a seemingly fitting read for the macabre atmosphere that surrounds. Making yourself comfortable on a nearby love seat, you once again place the candlestick down and open the book on your lap. The sensation of hardened paper against your skin brings with it, among other things, familiarity. Black ink captures you, sending you into a world far away from here. Some realities are too good to be true, and your little escape is spoiled before it ever truly begins.

“I never seem capable of guessing which one you will pick.” 

A natural reaction to a new sound, your head lifts in search of identifying the direction it reverberates from. The deep, rumbling voice has no single point of origin, instead encompassing you from every corner of the library. How many times has Alucard played this game with you, and how many times will you allow him to? It’s not entirely possible for you to control every aspect of human biology, you’re incapable of stopping how your pupils dilate and the goosebumps that dot your skin. He goes beyond any understanding, transcending into the throes of unnatural. An uncanny valley, where you can almost place your finger on it, but it remains far too murky to know for certain. 

In his presence, there will be no enjoying the pleasures of reading, so you shut the book. “Then you must not know me as well as you claim.” 

His laughter starts softly. An unholy sound that colors the depths of your soul with dread, like a single drop of dark ink into formally purified water. With every second that progresses at a sluggish pace, his amusement corrupts you further, until there’s nothing left to do but glare defiantly at the empty spaces around. If he wants to play coy, taunting you from a distance, then so be it. Exchanges like this that left you a nervous wreck have become commonplace. In the recesses of your mind, a temptation blooms to slander him as a coward. For not materializing into physical form, in fear of the onslaught of your scrutiny that would lash out. But you know the unpleasant truth, he has nothing to fear from the likes of you. 

It's for the sake of your fragile psyche he often chooses to remain out of sight. 

How belittling, you think. That he should place you on a pedestal high enough to consider your mental well being, but still sees fit to keep you under lock and key for himself. Lamenting about your predicament has never filled the void in your heart he tore out, so you push the thoughts as far down as you can. Your mouth is settled into a straight line, head resting atop your fist. If he’s going to poke and prod from afar, the least he can do is dignify you with eye contact. 

Looking at the last spot his voice resonated from, your eyebrows knit together with irritation. “Come out already. Stop playing these trifling games.” 

The loose strands of hair that frame your face are pushed back, by wind of no identifiable origin, chilling your body to the bone. You hug the sides of your bare arms, cursing yourself for picking a flimsy nightgown to wear, the temperature of the room dropping unnaturally. Flicks of ebony and crimson appear by your side, slowly but surely taking the silhouette of a man. The height difference between you two is always unsettling, no matter his claims of never harming you. Eyes that have seen centuries of conflict blink, pallid flesh becoming a physical reality and filling out into a face. This sight is one you’ve bore witness to many times, and each time you feel further from God, like you’re seeing something you shouldn’t be. A deeply forbidden and imposing evil. 

“I’ve done as you’ve asked, there’s no need to glare at the wall anymore.” 

Not seeing an advantage in offering a response, you choose to ignore the comment. “What is it you want, Alucard?” 

Your own tone is exasperated, words cutting straight to the heart of the issue. He takes note of this immediately, and you come to regret your uncharacteristic impatience. Eyelids fluttering shut for a moment to regain your composure, you see him staring down at you with an unreadable countenance once they reopen. There’s a pressing issue on his mind, you know as you’re the centerpiece of it. He must not intend on bringing it up just yet, instead paying heed to the book you picked out. 

“Do you find the selection agreeable?” 

A low hum leaves your lips at the question, and you consider it, before offering an honest opinion. “I can’t read most of the books here.” 

“Should I translate them for you? Or, perhaps, teach you the languages themselves?” Alucard offers after a moment’s deliberation, and you find it strange. The version of him that sits beside you now, consulting you like it’s a normal conversation. As if the hands that stay by his side haven’t been tainted with the blood of thousands, instead taking an almost considerate approach in speaking with you. You can’t claim to understand how a monster such as Alucard became so beguiled by your existence, and something tells you he doesn’t understand it himself.

“There’s no need.” 

Your voice lacks the force it normally exerts, body feeling as if it’s growing further from you. Subconsciously, your hand raises to the side of your head, grimacing at the pounding ache that’s growing stronger by the minute. Acting like nothing is wrong is a feeble effort anyways, he’s already caught onto your dilapidated state. It doesn’t matter how cautious you had been in disposing the blood set aside for your consumption, it was only a matter of time until it’d catch up with you. The hand that remains free goes to the cushion of the couch, fingers entrenching themselves into the fabric and ripping it in the process.

“How long have you gone without it?” He finally stops dancing around the sore subject, much to your chagrin. Alucard sounds exasperated, and if it weren’t for endangering predicament, you might feel a hint of pride. To procure any reaction from him that goes against his wishes is a victory, as far as you’re concerned. Petty as it may be, he himself is far worse. So you relish in the knowledge that you’ve made him miserable, even if it can never match the amount he has inflicted on you. 

The world as you know it is growing unsteady, even as you sit perfectly still. A taboo longing constricts your body, muscles taut and chest heaving. “I lost track.” 

It’s an honest admission. Your little sideshow of rejecting what keeps you alive -- if you can even call this state of being that -- has been ongoing for a while now. An act of defiance to spite Alucard further, that still doesn’t fill you with enough satisfaction. It’s a regret to know that nothing will ever fulfill you, nothing but the ambrosia of freedom, too sweet and out of reach for you to taste. The shadow of a life you now live has ensured that, a nightmare bestowed upon you by Alucard’s innate need. 

“This isn’t even the worst of it,” he lowers his voice, speaking with such delicacy it makes you sick to your stomach. “Should you choose to stay like this, you’ll feel misery beyond words. Give up this futile act of defiance.” 

He speaks right next to you, inches from your ear, but it doesn’t properly register. Emotions haunt you like a curse, a spectrum of despair to raw want. You want blood. You want the taste of iron to lavish itself upon your tongue, temporarily filling the hole of animalistic hunger that you can no longer push down. It’s a flame that’s lit within you, and there is no further hope in extinguishing it. Your own thoughts are replaced by a need to survive, your hands moving without your prompting. 

By your side, he has nicked his finger, liquid crimson falling like a waterfall from heaven. There are no signs of your own self, autonomy thrown to the side. Your soft, paling lips, latch onto the source of vitality. Alucard watches wordlessly, an emotion that can almost be defined as regret flashing through his eyes. This is the fate that he had inflicted upon you, a lifetime of being a vampire like himself. It isn’t what he wanted for you -- to burden you with the weight he has carried for centuries past -- but you left him no choice. Having seen you lying, seconds away from death’s door, he had to act. To preserve your life, to keep you with him. 

You pull away, mouth smeared deep vermillion, eyes growing glassy. There’s no point in holding onto the shreds of honor that left you a long time ago, and you collapse against his solid frame. Alucard has never been capable of comforting you, not beyond melancholic touches that seem to pain him more than you. Sniffling against his shoulder, your hand raises, threatening to strike, before losing strength and falling down. Humiliating as it may be, you don’t care, holding desperately to any form of consolation this world may offer you. 

Alucard, the one who clipped your wings in the name of love, can only watch as you curse and cry out to him. 

[ramblings-of-a-mad-cat]

Azura's Star or Black Star?

For me, I typically go with The Black Star. And no, it's not because it's more powerful. Actually, I would make a genuine argument for The Black Star being, perhaps not the morally superior choice...but no less moral than choosing Azura's Star.

Seriously, I like this quest a lot, but I do find it peculiar that the game itself, as well as the general fandom, seems to regard choosing The Black Star as the "evil" choice, and bringing it back to Azura to be the morally guided one. I don't get that at all. Sure, I'm not saying there's anything wrong with bringing the star back to Azura. I'm not saying that it's morally inferior to cutting her off from the star. But I'd seriously question the idea that only selfish or evil incarnations of the Dragonborn would choose to betray Azura.

Like on the one hand, sure, yes. You are in a sense, betraying Azura and Aranea. You're stealing Azura's Star and cutting her off from it. However, I'd also point out that technically, you never promised them anything. You don't owe them anything either. Like I'm sorry, but they charged a stranger to go on a dangerous journey for them and made no mention of a reward or of the Dragonborn getting anything in return...Aranea had to know this was a possibility, right? That there was a chance the traveler might simply pocket the priceless artifact and never return? I do feel bad because Aranea probably feels like she let Azura down...but she followed her instructions to a T. It's not like this is her fault. Aranea has the rest of her life ahead of her, and Azura stops giving her visions even if you do return to repair the star.

As for Azura...look, she's a deity. She's a god. She'll live. I'm not saying I don't feel sympathy, just that Azura's Star recurs throughout multiple games, and if it really meant that much to her, why would she keep throwing it in the path of mortals for them to use? Is it just because that's what Daedra do? Worst case scenario, she can find some other champion to purify the star in a couple more centuries. It's nothing to her. Even if she can't...is it really a huge loss for her? Again, she's a deity, playing with the lives of mortals. Her power is far beyond that of a single soul gem, surely.

Actually, the fact that Azura is a Daedra matters a lot. I know, she's said to be one of the "good" Daedra and in all fairness, she does nothing wrong in this quest. She treats The Dragonborn fairly and respectfully. Still, just because she's rumored to be the exception to the rule when it comes to the Daedric princes, doesn't mean that The Dragonborn would know about that, or that they would necessarily trust this to be true. If someone simply does not trust the Daedra on principle, hey, that's valid. Which brings me to Nelacar.

I think I like this character a lot more than most people. Nelacar is underrated as hell. How many High Elf characters in this game are actually humble and genuinely nice? Because Nelacar is. I'm gonna be real with you, he is the main reason why I find it bizarre that choosing the Black Star is considered the morally corrupt choice. Because Nelacar is the representative, and he's such a good guy! He doesn't have an ulterior motive. He doesn't argue with you taking the Black Star, he even asks you to. Remember what I said about characters thinking the Daedra are evil? That's him. He begs you not to take the Star back to Azura, and it's clear that's genuine.

Now, is he right? Did Malyn go insane because of Azura's influence? I'm inclined to think no. That he was probably just a corrupt and evil mage. However, we have no way of knowing one way or the other. We'll never know. And either way, the point here is that Nelacar believes it. He genuinely believes Azura is evil. All the poor guy wants to do is make things right. He just wants closure. I feel terrible for this guy, I always find myself wanting to help him a lot more than I want to help Azura. It's such a shame he doesn't become a follower if you help him the way Aranea does, but at least he comes to your wedding. Shows that he cares.

There is one other argument I suspect people have about this quest, fueling the belief that choosing the Black Star is evil. And that is because it's "dark magic." Azura's Star is transformed into a Black Soul Gem. And the black ones are evil, right? They're dark magic. Well, setting aside that dark doesn't always equate to evil, and there are far more evil choices you can make in this game...where does this idea come from? It's pretty straightforward. Black soul gems capture human souls. The regular ones, like a purified Azura's Star, will capture animal souls. To which I'm sorry, but I just have to ask...how is that any better?

Full disclosure, I'm not vegan and I think PETA is trash. But I am also aware that it is a general and socially accepted opinion that human life matters more than animal life. Yeah, I don't see things that way. And even if you believe that, it shouldn't matter in this situation. We know from the Dawnguard DLC that souls captured in the gems are expelled to an endless abyss. (Honestly, I thought it was a gorgeous location, but still.) The game compares it to hell. Why is it okay, then, to use soul gems ever? It shouldn't be. If you want to argue that it's worse to do this to a human, then fine...but it's still a horrid fate to condemn anyone to, of any species. I'm sorry, but if black soul gems are unspeakably immoral...then so are the rest of them. Animal cruelty, anyone? I dunno, the way I see it, if you're willing to use soul gems in the first place, you should have no problem using the black ones. Unless you're deep into roleplaying your character or something, I dunno.

[superbadassnatural]

Forgive me, Father

Summary: Y/N is determined to corrupt the new priest in town. Square filled: Priest!Castiel Pairing: Priest!Castiel x Demon!Reader Word count: 1,438 Warnings: implied future smut, dirty talk (?), mentions of masturbation, priest kink i guess A/N: this was written for @spntfwbingo. Hope you enjoy it! 

(x)

It had been three weeks since Father Novak had taken over the church in Lebanon, Kansas. You had only crossed paths with him once though. The whole town wouldn’t stop talking about the new priest and how handsome he was. Women wouldn’t shut up about how blue his eyes were. Because of all that talking, you were curious to know who he was.

Castiel Novak met you when he was closing the church’s doors. He was everything people said he was. He was gorgeous and so damn attractive. His face held an innocent look and you just wanted to see a wicked smirk on those plump lips of his. A need to have him grew inside you.

“Hi,” he greeted you. His voice was hoarse and one single word was enough for you to have goosebumps all over your body. “Can I help you?”

“We haven’t officially met,” you held out your hand for him, grinning. “I’m Y/N.”

“I’m Father Novak,” he shook your hand, his lips curving into a smile. “I haven’t seen you around here.”

“Yeah, I know,” you sighed. “‘Sides, what would a demon go to church, right?” you flashed your black eyes at him.

Castiel stepped back. He knew there were supernatural beings among humans. His friends hunted them. And he knew he should have pulled the demon knife out his pocket and ended you, but somehow he couldn’t find it in him to do so. Maybe he didn’t expect a demon to approach him in front of his church. Or maybe he was just taken aback by your beauty.

“I’ll see you later, Cas,” you winked at him and walked away, sashaying your hips. His eyes fixed on you.

_______

After a few weeks of your first encounter with the priest, you decided it was time to meet him again. The thought of him wouldn’t get out of your mind. You were attracted to him. He was handsome as hell and you could only wonder what he hid under those clothes.

The way he looked at you was anything but innocent. There was something in his eyes that night that wasn’t as pure as it should be. So you decided to surprise him. You entered the church and noticed he wasn’t at the altar. Though in the back, a woman made her way out of the confessional cabinet. He’s gotta be in there, you thought to yourself.

You were determined to push all his buttons until he breaks. What’s better than turning a priest into a sinner?

Knocking softly on the side of the wooden cabinet, you waited for him to answer.

“Come on in,” his voice echoed in your ears. Your body responded to it immediately.

You opened the door and entered the stall, sitting on the booth. A screen divided the cabinet. He was staring ahead. His profile was ever so beautiful.

“Hello, Father.”

Castiel flinched. He didn’t expect to see you in his church, let alone here about to confess.

“Y/N,” he breathed out. The way your name rolled out of his tongue sent shivers down your spine. “I must confess, I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I thought I was the one who should be confessing,” you smirked and he knew you did although he didn’t see you.

“Well- So, uh, let's start then,” he stuttered, taking a deep breath before continuing. “When was your last confession?”

“Oh, Father Novak, this is my first time,” you sounded innocent. “You’re gonna have to teach me how to do this.”

“Usually, people start with ‘forgive me Father; for I have sinned’ and share their sins.”

You nodded.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned,” you started. “I’ve been having thoughts,” you teased.

“What kind of thoughts, Y/N?” you expected him to call you ‘my child’ or ‘my dear’, but he knew you were a demon so he wouldn’t treat you with such kindness.

“Unholy thoughts. Dirty thoughts. Very, very dirty thoughts,” Castiel swallowed thick. He knew where this was heading to.

“Do you regret having them?”

“No, not in the slightest bit,” you shook your head. “But you see, there’s this man. The whole town's talking about him, especially women. The moment I heard about him, I knew I had to meet him. And I did. Since then I haven’t been able to take him out of mind,” you confessed. “For the first time, Father Novak, a man is out of my league. I’ve always had any man I wanted at my disposal. Well, not only men, women too, but we can talk about that later. The thing is, I can’t have this man, and that only makes him even more attractive.”

“Because he’s forbidden?”

“Forbidden… yes, he is,” you nodded. “He’s really handsome. He has those baby blue eyes, dark hair, and the most gorgeous lips. I can only dream of kissing them. I bet he’s got a sinful body. I think I could spend hours on end praising him, worshiping his body.”

Castiel knew you were talking about him. That’s why he’d started taking deep breaths to keep himself calm. The way those words came out of your mouth was affecting him in ways it shouldn’t be.

“If you know he’s forbidden and you can’t have him, then why do you keep fomenting those feelings?”

“Because I have to have him.”

“You want to corrupt him?” you knew his head turned in your direction. You could feel his eyes on you.

“Corrupt? No, I don’t,” you lied. “I think he’s the one that can purify me, you know Father? Maybe if I can have him to myself for one night, he can help purge my sins. One night might not be enough though.”

“You can purge your sins yourself by feeling sorry for your sinful thoughts,” he suggested.

“I don’t think I can, Father,” you shook your head. “It’s not just my mind, it’s my body. It’s like, uh, my body craves for him. I need him. I can’t fight this desire. I mean- I try, but it’s not enough.”

“What do you do to fight your urges, my dear?” his husky voice made a heat pool between your legs.

“I touch myself to the thought of him,” you sounded as innocent as a devoted Christian teenager, though your words were anything but that. “I use my hands to give me pleasure while I think of him. Of the things I wish he’d do to me. Sometimes I use my toys, but it’s never enough. I want to feel his body pressed against mine, his warm hands roaming around my body and discovering every inch of my skin. I want his mouth on me. Want him to taste me in his tongue while his hands grip my hips firmly. Want his stubble to scratch the inside of my thighs whilst he devours me.”

Silence fell between you for a short time. Castiel wished he wasn’t hearing what you were saying. His body was reacting to every single word you said. He could feel his member tenting up inside his pants. He was tense and his eyes grew darker. He shouldn’t feel this way especially when he was hearing it from a demon in his own church.

“I want to taste him. I bet he’s sweet and pure. I want to make him feel so good he’s gonna want more. I need to have him in my mouth,” you sighed. “Then I’d let him take me. I’d let him do whatever he pleases to my body. I’d let him use me. I can only wonder how good it must be having him inside me. I want to hear my name fall from his lips as he comes inside me. I want his blue eyes locked with mine as I come undone, chanting his angelical name,” you confessed.

The air had grown thicker between you. Castiel was turned on by your words. He didn’t know what to do to stop that feeling. He must stop that feeling.

“What can I do to redeem myself to God, Father?” you asked.

“If you are really searching for redemption, my dear, you should start by saying ten Hail Mary’s,” he said.

“And if I’m not?”

“Then I can guide your way into the light if that’s what you want.”

You pressed your thighs together as his words echoed in the booth. You wished the screen wasn’t there so you could see his dilated pupils and the small smirk on his lips.

“I think I’m gonna need your guidance, you bit your bottom lip. “Thank you, Father.”

“You’re welcome, my child.”

Feedback is always appreciated! Share your thoughts with me via reply, reblog or ask!

Cas Honeybees

@maya-craziness​

[jordankennedy]

Ok so like the lonely and the corruption being opposites is hella valid but in text I think the corruption is more opposite the desolation. Thoughts?

point 1. entities can be in opposition without being opposites. think of michael and jane (”it said it didn’t care if i or my companions lived or died, but that “the flesh-hive was always rash” [26]; “it is not the patterns that enthrall me, i’m not one of those fools chasing fractals” [32]) or jude’s distaste for the eye (”that’s all it does, it watches and knows, sitting bulbous and comfortable in the ignorance of infinite knowledge” [89]). the corruption is in opposition to the desolation but they aren’t true opposites--the corruption is a force of life, yes, and the desolation is a force representing the destruction of that life, and fire is almost always shown as a way to cleanse the corruption, but they go hand-in-hand in ways that opposite entities usually do not (”they watch the screaming outsider as the fire purifies them, and inside feel the gnawing panic of their own secrets” [164]; “maybe the dirt and grime builds up to such a degree that the stench begins to infect your soul, or an infestation of moths or ants or bed bugs stretches itself throughout the very structure of your home until it feels like your skin is squirming with them” [169]).

point 2. the opposite of the corruption is the lonely. the corruption almost universally effects people who are literally beating off the lonely with a stick; jane prentiss, who has no friends. benoît maçon and the residents of ivy meadows, who have no family. members of the military, an institution founded on the idea of comraderie and unity. margaret carnegie, described as a “classic recluse”. greg russell, who lost his wife and daughter. the members of the divine chain, looking for something greater to be part of. the desolation is intertwined with the corruption in a way that the lonely explicitly is not. the corruption manifests as a desire to be accepted, needed, loved (”was i swayed and drawn simply by the prospect of being genuinely loved?” [32]; “something about the mutual loneliness seemed to lead them to create a real sense of community” [36]; “but it was gordon’s job to bring her groceries every few days, winding his way through the filth that surrounded her isolated home” [84]; “a woman,” he said at last, “françois, i am in love. and she loves me!” [102])--the whole “i contain multitudes” thing being the antithesis of the lonely, not the desolation, which itself contains themes of all three (”my limbs were alive with searing energy, and my heart was aglow with love; the agonizing, terrifying love of something that i knew must be a god” [89]; “there, caught up in a series of events that i didn’t understand but that terrified me, and drowning in emotions that i still can’t explain, i asked if i could kiss her” [67])

point 3. the opposite of the desolation is the web. the desolation is, primarily, a force of destruction. it represents the wiping out of what you care about--yes, you, personally--for no reason other than the fun of it. the web, on the other hand, is a force of creation--i’m going to get a tad abstract here, since the web is one of the more abstract entities to begin with (on par with the spiral and extinction), but think of it this way. a spider’s web is woven, just like the web’s plans and manipulations and marionette strings. they’re brought into existence for the web’s benefit, rather than torn down gleefully to feed it (like the desolation). the web is also characterized as containing themes of protection (”diego was convinced if you died a violent death it would be catastrophic for agnes” [145]; “against that darkness i could see the thin grey strands wrapped around the limbs of my former bully” [81]) and the idea of being a guardian, particularly to children (it sometimes felt like i’d do things without actually deciding to do them. like it was just muscle memory moving me, or a string gently guiding me. it was never bad or dangerous stuff, just… things i wouldn’t normally have done, like brushing my teeth” [59]), both of which are directly antithetical to the central theme of the desolation which is the idea that nothing is safe from it. 

tl;dr the desolation and corruption are enemies, not opposites; the opposite of the corruption is the lonely (all-consuming love vs the absence of connection), and the opposite of the desolation is the web (boundless, unmoored destruction vs protective, planned manipulation)

[chiaki-translation]

Stray Devil Blues - Eng Translation

And so I decided to translate Stray Devil Blues, the newest theater/stage play from A3! as my first project. I love the story and I don’t think I can do the translation justice because the words are just beautiful, especially the prompt and the ending.

I have uploaded the theatre/stage play from the game for the everyone and below is the link:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4Xm4xPmByjI&t=90s

Translator’s Note:

Bear in mind that my translation is not perfect, I’m doing this for my own growth and if you’re looking for professional translation, this is not the place. I do believe that my translation can obtain a passing mark though, so do check out my work if you’re interested~

There is a word directly translated to ‘divine protection’. I actually translated it to ‘blessings’ here to make it consistent with the initial prompt and shorter for conversation.

Any other question, feel free to DM me or leave a comment~

Translation will be below (1st Proofread and will be updated accordingly) ~

Stray Devil Blues

Version: 4th Proofread (27052020) - Some sentences adjusted for the flow of the story, Fixed a mistake on sentence said by robber

Casts:

Nanao Taichi as Mark

Tsumugi Tsukioka as Lucifer

Tasuku Takato as Satan

Izumida Azami as Cliff

Guy as Beelzebub

Fushimi Omi as Walter

Narration:

In the time of industrial revolution. As the economic inequality becomes more widespread, the unemployed youths resorted to crimes and the town is filled with a lot of the so-called street children.

One day, Mark who was accused of a crime he never committed, was freed from his imprisonment and he was finally released from the prison.

The radiance of the soul that has travelled through thousands of years, shining brightly towards the surface of the earth. Bringing to distraught, the accursed heaven’s blessing.

Mark:

I won’t come back here again.

Thank you for your care.

…… Fyuh ……

Robber:

Give me your money!

Mark:

---- I don’t have any money.

I just came out from the prison.

Robber:

I don’t care, just hand me over your bag!

Mark:

---- Ugh

Robber:

Ha, ha …...

It’s not my fault you’re such an easy prey!

Mark:

This is a lie isn’t it…

My life, is it just going to end like  this…...?

Lucifer:

Do you resent your own fate?

Do you detest yourself who has fallen?

Mark:

Eh……?

Lucifer:

I can give you the power.

The power to overturn your fate, a sword to accomplish your revenge.

Mark:

A devil……?

Lucifer:

If you let it be this way, you won’t accomplish anything.

You’ll rot away and everything will end here.

You’ll end up alone, not being acknowledged by anyone.

Mark:

…… I hate it.

Lucifer:

Then make a contract with me, in exchange for your soul.

Mark:

A contract……

Lucifer:

In one month time, you shall give me your soul as the compensation.

Mark:

One month?

Is this the only way for me to stay alive?

Lucifer:

No one can escape from the contract’s term.

Mark:

What!

If it’s like that, then there’s no meaning to it.

Lucifer:

There’s actually one method to break free from the contract.

You can hunt the soul of another who has contracted with a devil.

That way, you can replace your soul with that of another.

Your soul will then be released from the contract’s term.

Mark:

Another contractor’s soul ……

Lucifer:

So, what are you going to do?

Mark:

……

Alright, let’s do the contract.

Lucifer:

Then with your soul, the success of your revenge shall be guaranteed.

Mark:

What I want is not revenge.

I just want the proof of my innocence.

Lucifer:

…… That’s alright.

And here, the contract shall be established.

Narrator:

After the unprecedented assault by a hoodlum, the demon Lucifer appears in front of the injured Mark.

The devil promised to bestow him a power to exact his revenge, and in exchange, his soul shall be taken away as a compensation when the contract ends in one-month time.

When Mark found no meaning in the limited time-span, Lucifer offered him the only method for his soul not to be taken away. That is to hunt for another devil contractor’s soul and by doing so, Mark’s soul will not be taken away when the contract ends.

With that in mind, Mark finally accepted the contract with the goal of proofing his own innocence.

Mark:

No way, that guy is the culprit ……

And I thought he’s my friend.

Lucifer:

Humans are such a fragile being. They fall into despair and corruption so easily.

Mark:

Speaking of which, devils are also very persuasive, huh.

Lucifer:

Both are favorable for us, devils.

Mark:

Will you always be by my side, Lucifer?

Lucifer:

With a high-ranking devil like me as the master of the contract, I am not bounded by any limitation. However, I won’t go to the human world without any reason.

Mark:

Heh, so when I call you out, you will always appear before me.

That’s very convenient.

Lucifer:

Don’t treat me like a tool. It’s unpleasant.

Mark:

My bad, my bad.

Lucifer:

Hnn…

Robber:

So, the story goes like that.

But I wonder why.

That time when I heard his word, an unpleasant feeling rose in my gut.

I lost my sight and I could not differentiate between good and evil anymore.

I felt nothing but contempt, and when my friend fell ---

Walter:

Repent for your sin, starts anew, and your crime shall be forgiven.

That way, God will bring salvation to thy soul.

Robber:

…… Thank you very much, Father.

Walter:

……

Beelzebub:

I sense the presence of another devil.

Walter:

I haven’t seen another contractor around though.

Beelzebub:

Smells like a familiar pest.

Walter:

Are you talking about one of your devil acquaintances?

Beelzebub:

Before that, it’s time for a meal.

I want to eat stew today.

Walter:

…… Really, this stew eating devil.

Just listen to me for once.

Beelzebub:

Don’t forget to put a lot of meat inside.

Walter:

I get it, fine.

…… Another devil, huh.

Oh God, I pray to you, extend your hand towards your stray children and bring salvation to their grieving souls. Lead us not into temptation and deliver us from evil. Amen.

Narrator:

By borrowing Lucifer’s power, the culprit finally confessed to his crime, providing closure for Mark.

At the same time, the devil, Beelzebub, whispered his evil to Walter. With the intention to purge evils, he formed a contract with Beelzebub and took the name as one of the devil’s contractor to hunt for other’s souls.

Mark:

Long time no see, Cliff.

Cliff:

Mark!

When did you come out from the prison?

Mark:

A week ago. Thank you for a lot of  things.

Cliff:

Nah, I was powerless.

It was such a misfortune.

Mark:

Not long ago, the true culprit just surrendered himself.

Cliff:

Really, if he’s going to surrender himself, he should have done that earlier.

Regardless, I’m glad that you are finally proved innocent.

Mark:

Yep.

Cliff:

So, have you decided on what are you going to do next?

Mark:

I’m looking for a job, currently I’m just doing day to day work to get by.

Cliff:

Then, why don’t you work in my place?

I’ll be very delighted if you join.

Mark:

Thanks for the invitation, but Cliff’s ‘work’ is impossible for me.

Cliff:

If it’s not because of our ‘work’, there will be a lot more children dying on the street!

Mark:

I know but, I still can’t do it.

Cliff:

Then, when you change your mind, come and find me. I’ll listen to you anytime.

Mark:

Thank you, Cliff.

 Lucifer:

Why do you refuse to depend on Cliff?

Mark:

Cliff’s work revolves around threats and blackmails.

It’s a lot of illegal works.

Of course, if it’s not like that, I know that more people will suffer from starvation on the streets.

But I don’t want to do that kind of thing.

Lucifer:

Then quickly find an honest profitable job that you can do.

I don’t want to be summoned to this dirty room again and again.

Mark:

For a devil, you sure are fussy about cleanliness.

Lucifer:

That’s none of your business.

Mark:

My bad, my bad.

Then, since it’s impossible for me to move out now, let’s start by helping me with the cleaning.

Lucifer:

Why do I need to do this kind of thing……

Narrator:

Mark met Cliff, who was his childhood friend from the same institution.

He offered his gratitude, for Cliff had provided him with a lot of assistance during his imprisonment.

Cliff was glad that Mark was finally proven innocent. He offered for Mark to join him in his work, but Mark was unable to resort to illegal activities.

Since his contract with Lucifer, Mark notices that the world is filled with little devils called demons and he became able to see them.

Mark:

What’s that?

Lucifer:

Demons.

They like to meddle with the little corruption in human’s heart.

The so-called evil deeds are actually their doings.

Mark:

…… even in Churches, there are demons around.

That looks really strange.

Walter:

Anything troubles you?

Mark:

Eh, nothing---

Walter:

Please, come in.

We will listen to any kind of worries you have.

Mark:

---

Walter:

Maybe, you are troubled by the barrier?

Mark:

Eh?

Walter:

You seem to be in need of a consultation.

Mark:

You know something about the devils?

Walter:

I guess you can say that.

We can purify people who has been possessed by inferior devils.

We also accept consultation for those who have made a contract with a devil.

Mark:

Contract with a devil ……

Walter:

They demand the soul of the contractor as a compensation for granting wishes.

Don’t you want to find a way to break free from them?

Mark:

Such thing, does it actually exist?

Walter:

Anything can be achieved with God’s power and protection.

More than this and we will attract the public’s attention.

This way ……

Mark:

……

This place is ……?

Walter:

It’s a place where the devil’s power won’t reach.

Mark:

Then, about the way to break free from the contract ……

Walter:

We have to provide salvation to your corrupted soul.

Mark:

--- !?

Beelzebub:

There’s no mistake, Walter.

This guy is a contractor.

Mark:

A devil!?

Walter:

A God’s envoy working hand in hand with a devil, what a surprise right?

But this is a necessary evil.

Mark:

Lucifer, come!

Lucifer:

You sure cry loud for someone who just went inside a barrier.

Beelzebub:

As I thought, it’s you, Lucifer.

Then, this is the one you mentioned before ……?

Lucifer:

If you get it, just release him already.

Beelzebub:

Unfortunately, that’s not for me to decide.

I won’t get my lunch if I don’t work properly.

Lucifer:

So you’ve been had with food, huh.

Mark:

You tricked me?

Walter:

You want to break free from that devil right?

Then there’s only one way.

Mark:

--- Tch

Walter:

Ha!

Mark:

Guh.

Beelzebub:

It’s alright.

No need to worry, there are a lot of other people out there who are willing to sell their soul to become a contractor.

Don’t be sad.

Mark:

So you’re hunting for other contractor’s soul.

Walter:

I’m not hunting, I’m just providing salvation.

Mark:

That’s the same thing isn’t it ---!

Walter:

You’re a stubborn one, aren’t you.

Beelzebub:

As expected of Lucifer’s contractor.

Lucifer:

Break the barrier, Mark!

Walter:

I won’t let you ---

Mark:

Ha!

Walter:

Beelzebub!

Beelzebub:

What do I get?

Walter:

Quiche.

Beelzebub:

Contract established.

Mark:

--- Ugh

Beelzebub:

Playtime is over.

Before Lucifer appears ---

Lucifer:

You’re too slow.

Sorry for the wait, Beelzebub.

Walter:

Tch, so troublesome ---

Lucifer:

Ha!

Walter:

Ugh---

Beelzebub:

---Ugh

Mark:

Stop it, Lucifer!

Lucifer:

Why.

Mark:

Anymore than that and they’ll die.

Walter:

--- Beelzebub, retreat.

Beelzebub:

…… I guess I won’t get lunch today.

Lucifer:

Why do you stop me?

Mark:

I’m not going to hunt for the soul of other contractors.

Lucifer:

You want to break free from the contract’s term, don’t you?

Mark:

Of course, I can’t just agree to die in one month.

But, that’s exactly why I refuse to hunt other people’s soul too.

Lucifer:

As usual, you’re such a naïve guy.

Narrator:

That day, Mark was called out by Walter in front of the Church. Lured by his story, Mark went into the Church, just to find another devil appeared before his eyes.

Mark was put in a bad position because of the barrier, his soul was hunted in a two against one fight, but Lucifer managed to break in and helped in time. After Walter’s retreat, Mark asked for a way to break the contract with Lucifer.

Mark decided that he won’t hunt Walter’s soul just to achieve his freedom.

Mark:

Father Walter is dead? What is happening  ……

Lucifer:

How am I supposed to know, I’m not that free.

Beelzebub:

There’s another contractor who hunted for Walter’s soul.

You guys too, be careful around here.

Lucifer:

Huh, you meddle too much.

You even took your time to transform into a fly to warn us, what’s the deal.

Beelzebub:

He left behind the last quiche he prepared before his death, I came here for that.

Lucifer:

If that’s the case, just go home already.

Mark:

……

Lucifer:

Nothing is going to change if you just do whatever you’re comfortable with. Other contractors are going to target you.

Mark:

I know that.

But regardless, I ……

Lucifer:

Do whatever you want, I don’t care anymore.

Mark:

Whatever it is, as long as I can hand over the soul, is it.

Lucifer:

…… That’s exactly the point.

Mark:

What are human souls for you, devils? A fodder, food, what is it?

Lucifer:

It’s akin to a source of power, I guess you can call it our nourishment.

But, it’s not something that we can’t live without.

Mark:

Then what would be the reason for you to go out all the way to establish contract with humans?

Lucifer:

It’s just an activity to pass time.

Mark:

You’re just bored!?

Lucifer:

Don’t you know what kind of existence a devil is?

We are an existence who seek pleasures from human’s misfortunes, we found amusements in people’s sufferings.

Mark:

Somehow, I cannot really see it that way.

It’s my first time staying with another person for a long period of time and it’s surprisingly easy to get along with you, even though you’re a devil.

Lucifer:

Like I said, you’re just too naïve.

…… Human souls are, bound to Heaven otherwise it’s forsaken.

Mark:

Forsaken?

Lucifer:

When it is out of reach.

When your soul’s conscience no longer desires the God’s blessings.

Mark:

…… Basically, your soul won’t be able to reach Heaven anymore.

Lucifer:

No matter what kind of good places there are out there, you won’t be taken into consideration anymore.

Mark:

Lucifer, are you actually not a devil before?

Lucifer:

I have nothing to say to you.

Mark:

Eh, why.

I mean, just now ---

Lucifer:

Anyway, you won’t remember it anymore.

Mark:

Eh ……?

Narrator:

The day after, Walter’s body was found. Beelzebub who has turned into a fly, went to see Mark to warned him about another contractor who was hunting for souls.

In the street, noblemen were seen to be oppressing the orphans. Cliff looked at the scene with hatred as he glared at the noblemen with a piercing gaze.

Mark:

The demons are behaving weirdly today ……

They seemed to be gathering at the mansions in this area.

Nobleman A:

Have you heard about it?

The masters and the guards of the mansions around this area were massacred recently.

Nobleman B:

That’s very scary.

Nobleman A:

But, what kind of thing can possibly pull that off. It doesn’t seem to be a simple falling off between the noblemen.

Mark:

……

Cliff:

Serves them right, that’s what they deserved.

Mark:

Cliff?

Cliff:

Oh, it’s you, Mark.

Such a coincidence, are you working now?

Mark:

Ah, yeah.

Cliff:

Good luck to you.

Mark:

……

Narrator:

Mark who was following the trails of the demons arrived in front of a row of big mansions.

Afterwards, he heard from the people passing by, that several people including the masters and guards of the mansions were found dead due to unnatural causes.

Cliff who was passing by was heard to be laughing, while muttering sinister things and Mark who witnessed the scene was left with nothing but uncomfortable feelings.

Mark:

That is ……

Lucifer:

It’s Satan.

Mark:

--- Huh!

Cliff:

Ha!

Mark:

--- Cliff!?

Cliff:

…… Mark?

Mark:

Cliff, you are Satan’s contractor!?

Cliff:

Mark, you too.

Lucifer:

So, it’s you guys who hunted Walter.

Cliff:

Walter? Oh, that old man.

I don’t really remember but I think that’s his name.

Mark:

That’s a lie, Cliff, why would you ---

Cliff:

If you’re also a contractor then you should have known why. With other contractor’s soul you can exempt your own soul from being taken.

Mark:

Then, in exchange for your own, Walter’s soul is ……?

Cliff:

Yeah, with just a soul, your wish can be granted.

Mark:

---

Cliff:

It’s very convenient that Mark is also a contractor.

Do you want to help me with my ‘work’?

Mark:

Your ‘work’ is ……

Cliff:

Using the power of the devils, I will change the world.

It’s time to turn things around, I will destroy this world.

Mark:

Using the power of the devils ----

The one controlling the demons were you, Cliff?

Cliff:

Controlling them, I guess it’s only correct to a certain degree.

I can only lead them around; they don’t have their own will after all.

They won’t listen to any order.

Lucifer:

Don’t you realize that it was because of those demons that your friend was imprisoned.

Cliff:

I don’t really have a choice but to use them.

I have limited hands on my side you see.

Mark:

That kind of thing ---

Cliff:

Hey, Mark, you’re already fed up with this world aren’t you.

You will never gain control no matter how hard you work.

Every single time, they exploited us, only throw us away after they’re done.

Mark:

But, that’s kind of thing.

There’s no connection between that and people’s misfortune.

That way of thinking is wrong.

Cliff:

Enough with that bullshit.

Since long time ago, I really hate that childish thinking of yours --!

Mark:

--- !

Cliff:

Ha!

Mark:

Stop it, Cliff!

Lucifer:

---

Satan:

There’s no need to rush.

How many years have it been since I last clash with you?

Lucifer:

I don’t remember.

There has been no chance in the past thousand years.

Satan:

You’re right.

I’ve always been waiting for this time to come.

Finally, after such a long time, come and face me seriously.

Ha!

Lucifer:

--- Ha!

Give it up.

You can’t win against me.

Satan:

It won’t be interesting if that’s the case.

Brother.

Mark:

Ha!

Cliff:

Ha!

--- Tch!

Mark:

Cliff, please listen to me.

Cliff:

It’s useless!

No matter what, you won’t understand!

Ha!

Mark:

--- Tch!

Cliff:

Retreat ---

Satan:

See you again, Lucifer.

I’m grateful that you introduced me to a good contractor.

Thanks to that, every day is not so boring anymore.

Mark:

Eh ……?

Lucifer, you were the one who introduced Satan to Cliff?

Lucifer:

I only found him as a suitable person.

Mark:

Why, that kind of thing is ---

Lucifer:

I remind you, Devils are beings that lead humans to fall into corruption.

Mark:

---

Satan:

Human, I’ll teach you something good.

Even if you hunt for other contractor’s soul, you can’t break free from the devils.

Mark:

What?

Satan:

Humans who formed a contract with a devil will already be devoid of God’s blessings.

For devils, human souls without blessings are such a pleasant treat.

No matter what you do, you can’t escape from the devils.

Mark:

---

Lucifer:

Stop meddling too ---

Satan:

Oh, it seems I’m called by my contractor.

Mark:

That talk just now, was that true?

Lucifer:

If it is, then?

Mark:

So you tricked me.

Lucifer:

I only did not say the truth.

Mark:

But, you tricked me.

Lucifer:

You don’t exactly expect honesty from a devil.

Mark:

Enough, go away already, I don’t want to see your face anymore.

Lucifer:

If I’m gone, Cliff will soon come back for you.

Mark:

Go away.

Narrator:

Mark was surprised to see that Cliff has formed a contract with the devil, Satan.

Cliff had been hunting for other contractor’s soul to overwrite his own contract. He wished to change and destroy the world which oppressed the weak. Taking into consideration Walter’s soul who has been hunted, Mark refused to give his cooperation.

The refusal has brought Cliff into a rage and he rushed in to attack Mark. At the same time, Satan rushed in to attack Lucifer. After realizing the difference in power, Cliff pulled off a retreat.

 When Satan passed his gratitude to Lucifer for his encounter with Cliff, Mark started to question and doubt Lucifer’s action. What would be the reason for Lucifer to pull people into despair and corruption.

 At that time, Satan whispered to Mark.

Even if Mark is to hunt for other contractor’s soul, he would not be able to break free from the devils. The sin for being a contractor was to be devoid of God’s blessings, to be exempted from the cycle of rebirth. Mark who just realized that he was being deceived, casted Lucifer aside.

Lucifer:

Tch.

Satan:

You seem to be having a rough time.

Lucifer:

Don’t come near me.

Satan:

Again, you’re going to run away aren’t  you.

This time I will hunt him for real.

Lucifer:

---

Satan:

Hoo, are you going wreak havoc in Hell?

If you are banished from here, you’ll really have nowhere else to go.

Lucifer:

Get out of my sight.

Narrator:

In the realm of Hell, Lucifer was caught by Satan in a bad mood. Satan announced that he will be going to collect Mark’s soul and Lucifer was brought to rage.

At that time, Mark went to see Cliff. One more time, he wanted the chance to talk to him.

Mark:

Cliff, let’s talk.

There must be other methods for us to change the world.

Cliff:

You, the only thing you do was being a hindrance to me.

Mark:

That’s not my intention!

Cliff:

Shut up! I don’t need any lip service!

You will never save anyone that way!

Mark:

--- Ugh, uhh

Cliff:

Glad aren’t you, Satan.

This way, Mark’s soul will now be yours.

Satan:

Yeah, I’m going to enjoy looking at Lucifer’s resentful face later.

Cliff:

Damn, brother complex.

Satan:

Do you even listen to what you said?

Even this guy was someone akin to a brother to you right.

Cliff:

You’re right.

In the past, this kind of thing is ---

Satan:

Thanks to you, I really get to enjoy this.

Cliff:

In the end, only devils will follow me ……

This is goodbye, Mark.

This time, it will be farewell for real.

Mark:

Tch --- Lucifer!

Lucifer:

You’re late.

Cliff:

Tch.

Satan:

--- Ugh.

Mark:

Ha!

Cliff:

Ugh!

Lucifer:

This time, finish him off, Mark!

Mark:

---

Satan:

Do you think you have the time to look away?!

Lucifer:

--- Ugh.

Mark:

Lucifer!

Cliff:

Satan, obliterate that guy!

Lucifer:

--- Tch.

Mark:

---

Cliff:

Arrghhh.

Mark:

I’m sorry, Cliff ---

Satan:

Damn it, I’m running out of time.

At least your head ---

Mark:

Stop it!

Lucifer:

Wha ---

Satan:

Tch, he took all the damage.

Lucifer:

What are you doing?

Who in the right mind will try to protect a devil?

Now you’re badly injured…

Mark:

…… Is that so.

But that’s alright.

Regardless, tomorrow will be the end of the one-month time period.

 My soul is yours.

Lucifer:

You hunted Cliff’s soul.

According to the term of the contract, your soul will no longer…

Mark:

Ah, is that so ……

It’s no good.

My head’s spinning from the loss of blood.

Still, to lose something like blessings.

You can still hunt my soul, can’t you?

It’s okay you know, you already helped me a lot.

I was angry for being deceived, but I really enjoyed the time I spent with you……

It was fun……

Lucifer:

You really are naïve.

Mark:

Goodbye, Lucifer ……

Lucifer:

Your soul won’t be saved by sacrificing yourself.

If God’s blessings really exist, I won’t let go of your hands.

Again, everything’s falling apart under my hand.

No matter how many times the cycle of rebirth continues to repeat itself, your soul will no longer……

Oh God please, if you have to save someone, please save him.

Don’t let him be just a sacrifice, a victim in this cruel world.

Oh God please, if you can show your compassion…

Voice from The Sky:

Lucifer, we heard your call.

The Heaven cannot excessively intervene with the Earth as it violates the law of Heaven.

Lucifer:

Things like the law of Heaven, how am I supposed to know about that ---

If even God won’t be willing to save that person.

 There is no need for any blessings.

Narrator:

The radiance of the soul that has traveled through thousands of years, shining brightly towards the surface of the earth. Bringing to distraught, the accursed heaven’s blessings---

And when it’s finally freed from the crime it was accused for, his one and only light will be saved.

[dfroza]

“The central truth—the one you have heard since the beginning of your faith—is that we must love one another.”

Today’s reading of the Scriptures from the New Testament is the 3rd chapter of the letter of 1st John:

Consider the kind of extravagant love the Father has lavished on us—He calls us children of God! It’s true; we are His beloved children. And in the same way the world didn’t recognize Him, the world does not recognize us either.

My loved ones, we have been adopted into God’s family; and we are officially His children now. The full picture of our destiny is not yet clear, but we know this much: when Jesus appears, we will be like Him because we will see Him just as He is. All those who focus their hopes on Him and His coming seek to purify themselves just as He is pure.

Everyone who lives a life of habitual sin is living in moral anarchy. That’s what sin is. You realize that He came to eradicate sins, that there is not the slightest bit of sin in Him. The ones who live in an intimate relationship with Him do not persist in sin, but anyone who persists in sin has not seen and does not know the real Jesus.

Children, don’t let anyone pull one over on you. The one doing the right thing is just imitating Jesus, the Righteous One.

The one persisting in sin belongs to the diabolical one, who has been all about sin from the beginning. That is why the Son of God came into our world: to destroy the plague of destruction inflicted on the world by the diabolical one.

Everyone who has been born into God’s family avoids sin as a lifestyle because the genes of God’s children come from God Himself. Therefore, a child of God can’t live a life of persistent sin. So it is not hard to figure out who are the children of God and who are the children of the diabolical one: those who lack right standing and those who don’t show love for one another do not belong to God.

The central truth—the one you have heard since the beginning of your faith—is that we must love one another. Please do not act like Cain, who was of the evil one. He brutally murdered his own brother. Why would he do something so despicable? Because his life was devoted to evil and selfishness, and his brother chose to do what is right.

Brothers and sisters, don’t be shocked if the corrupt world despises you. We know that we have crossed over from death to real life because we are devoted to true love for our brothers and sisters. Anyone who does not love lives among corpses.

Everyone who hates other members of God’s family is a murderer. Does a murderer possess the beautiful life that never ends? No. We know what true love looks like because of Jesus. He gave His life for us, and He calls us to give our lives for our brothers and sisters.

If a person owns the kinds of things we need to make it in the world but refuses to share with those in need, is it even possible that God’s love lives in him? My little children, don’t just talk about love as an idea or a theory. Make it your true way of life, and live in the pattern of gracious love.

There is a sure way for us to know that we belong to the truth. Even though our inner thoughts may condemn us with storms of guilt and constant reminders of our failures, we can know in our hearts that in His presence God Himself is greater than any accusation. He knows all things. My loved ones, if our hearts cannot condemn us, then we can stand with confidence before God. Whatever we may ask, we receive it from Him because we follow His commands and take the path that pleases Him. His command is clear: believe in the name of His Son, Jesus the Anointed, and love one another as He commanded. The one who follows His teaching and walks this path lives in an intimate relationship with God. How do we know that He lives in us? By the gift of His Spirit.

The Letter of 1st John, Chapter 3 (The Voice)

A note from The Voice translation:

When we feel like we are not good enough to be loved by God, we should remember that God’s love is greater than our doubts. We must silence the sounds of condemnation so we can hear the voice of God’s loving assurance and remember that He has selected us to be part of His family.

Today’s paired chapter of the Testaments is the 2nd chapter of the book of Ezra documenting the return to Jerusalem from the Babylonian exile:

These leaders of Israel followed Zerubbabel, Jeshua, Nehemiah, Seraiah, Reelaiah, Mordecai, Bilshan, Mispar, Bigvai, Rehum, and Baanah back to the province of Judah, to their ancestral cities or the city of Jerusalem, from their Babylonian exile at the hand of Nebuchadnezzar, king of Babylon: The descendants of Parosh (2,172), Shephatiah (372), Arah (775), Pahath-moab of the families of Jeshua and Joab (2,812), Elam (1,254), Zattu (945), Zaccai (760), Bani (642), Bebai (623), Azgad (1,222), Adonikam (666), Bigvai (2,056), Adin (454), Ater of Hezekiah (98), Bezai (323), Jorah (112), Hashum (223), and Gibbar (95); the citizens of Bethlehem (123), Netophah (56), and Anathoth (128); the descendants of Azmaveth (42); Kiriath-arim, Chephirah, and Beeroth (743); and Ramah and Geba (621); the citizens of Michmas (122) and Bethel and Ai (223); the descendants of Nebo (52), Magbish (156), the other Elam (1,254), Harim (320), and Lod, Hadid, and Ono (725); the citizens of Jericho (345); The descendants of Senaah (3,630).

These priests returned to Jerusalem: the descendants of Jedaiah the Jeshuite (973), Immer (1,052), Pashhur (1,247), and Harim (1,017).

These Levites returned to Jerusalem: the descendants of Jeshua and Kadmiel the Hodaviahites (74).

These singers returned to Jerusalem: the descendants of Asaph (128).

These sons of the gatekeepers: the descendants Shallum, Ater, Talmon, Akkub, Hatita, and Shobai (139).

These temple servants returned to Jerusalem: the descendants of Ziha, Hasupha, Tabbaoth, Keros, Siaha, Padon, Lebanah, Hagabah, Akkub, Hagab, Shalmai, Hanan, Giddel, Gahar, Reaiah, Rezin, Nekoda, Gazzam, Uzza, Paseah, Besai, Asnah, Meunim, Nephisim, Bakbuk, Hakupha, Harhur, Bazluth, Mehida, Harsha, Barkos, Sisera, Temah, Neziah, and Hatipha.

These descendants of Solomon’s servants returned to Jerusalem: the descendants of Sotai, Hassophereth, Peruda, Jaalah, Darkon, Giddel, Shephatiah, Hattil, Pochereth-hazzebaim, and Ami. All the temple servants and the descendants of Solomon’s servants totaled 392.

But not everyone was readily accepted into Jerusalem. These people returned to Jerusalem from the Babylonian provinces of Tel-melah, Tel-harsha, Cherub, Addan, and Immer: the descendants of Delaiah, Tobiah, and Nekoda (652). These people could not produce genealogies to prove their identities as Israelites.

Three priestly lines—the descendants of Habaiah, Hakkoz, and Barzillai (so called because he married a daughter of Barzillai the Gileadite)— could not be located in their genealogies. Therefore they were considered ritually impure and excluded from the priesthood in case they should taint the Lord’s new temple. The governor decided they should abstain from eating the most holy things until the high priest could divine answers using the Urim and Thummim. This decision affected 42,360 people, in addition to 7,337 male and female servants, 200 male and female singers, 736 horses, 245 mules, 435 camels, and 6,720 donkeys.

When some of the tribal leaders arrived at the Eternal’s temple in Jerusalem, they gave their offerings willingly, hoping to rebuild the True God’s house on the same site Solomon had used. Their gifts, which the treasury used to finance the construction of the new temple, amounted to about 1,000 pounds of gold, 3 tons of silver, and 100 priestly garments.

From that time forward, the priests, the Levites, some of the people, the singers, the gatekeepers, the temple servants, and all Israel lived in their ancestral cities.

The Book of Ezra, Chapter 2 (The Voice)

A link to my personal reading of the Scriptures for Saturday, march 25 of 2023 with a paired chapter from each Testament of the Bible along with Today’s Proverbs and Psalms

A post by John Parsons about holiness:

The Torah records God's first act of creation with the imperative utterance: “Let there be light” (i.e., yehi or: יְהִי אוֹר) and then goes on to say that “God separated (וַיַּבְדֵּל) the light from the darkness (Gen. 1:3-4). It is this “separation,” or distinction, that is foundational to the concept of kedushah (קְדֻשָּׁה), or “holiness.” Holiness is also expressed in the distinction between ordinary and sacred time: “God blessed the seventh day and made it holy” (יְקַדֵּשׁ) because on it God rested from all his work that he had done in creation” (Gen. 2:3).

The overall theme of the Book of Leviticus is kedushah, and indeed the Hebrew root (קדשׁ) occurs over 150 times in the book. Since God is kadosh (קדשׁ), we must be kadosh in our lives as well, and this means first of all being conscious of the distinction between the sacred and the profane, the “clean” and the unclean, and so on. “You are to distinguish between the holy and the common, and between the unclean and the clean” (Lev. 10:10). Note that the word translated “distinguish” (וּלֲהַבְדִּיל) comes from the same verb used to describe how God separated the light from the darkness. We are to separate between (בֵּין) the holy and the profane, which means we need understanding (i.e., binah: בִּינָה), or the ability to discern between realms of reality... As it is written, "You shall be holy to me, for I the LORD am holy and I have separated you (וָאַבְדִּל) from other people that you should be mine" (Lev. 20:26).

There is no other way to approach the Holy One apart from consciousness of His infinite glory and unsurpassable worth. “I will lift up my eyes to the hills” (Psalm 121:1). As the Holy One (i.e., ha-kadosh: הַקָּדוֹשׁ), the LORD (יהוה) is utterly unique, distinct, sacred, and set apart as the only One of its kind. He alone is worthy of true worship and adoration, since He alone is utterly peerless, without rival, and stands in relation to the world as Creator, Redeemer, and Lord. To affirm the LORD is holy is to be conscious that He is utterly sacred.

Holiness involves first of all the awareness or consciousness that there is a realm of reality “higher than” the material world (the light God created and separated from darkness was not physical), and this realm of reality is centered on the Person and Will of God. A denial of this leads to the idolatrous view that material (i.e., profane) reality is absolute and therefore ascribed eternal worth. As it is writen: “The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom; good understanding is for those who fear him” (Psalm 111:10). However, the LORD does not want us to merely recognize His holiness (in some abstract or intellectual sense) but calls us to be in relationship with Him, and this implies personal sanctity and separation: Again, “you shall be holy to me, for I the LORD am holy and I have separated you (וָאַבְדִּל) from other peoples that you should be mine” (Lev. 20:26). The purpose of the sacrificial system was to draw near to God, and this “drawing near” required a separation from the profane world and its habitual uncleanness. The call to be holy is therefore the call to wake up and become alive to God’s Presence in this world; it is to turn away from ordinary to behold the extraordinary...

SHANAH TOVAH B'YESHUA CHAVERIM!

[ Hebrew for Christians ]

========

Leviticus 20:26 reading:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/lev20-26-jjp.mp3

Hebrew page pdf:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/lev20-26-lesson.pdf

And another:

Being “holy” does not mean being sanctimonious or having a sour face about the world and its carnal pleasures. It has nothing at all to do with affected spirituality, ‘holier-than-thou’ pride, or the fear of becoming unclean... Indeed, some of the most holy moments are not just those of love, joy, peace, but times of struggle, sorrow, affliction, and fiery temptation. Consider the dark cloud that surrounded the cross when Yeshua bled out and suffered in great agony for our redemption... Holiness is ultimately "ontological," which means it has to do with reality. A person can be holy and yet sinful; he can also be holy and yet feel lost or abandoned. On the other hand, a person can be seemingly sinless, morally upright, and yet be completely unholy.

[ Hebrew for Christians ]

========

Isaiah 53:3a reading:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/isa53-3a-jjp.mp3

Hebrew page pdf:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/isa53-3a-lesson.pdf

3.23.23 • Facebook

Today’s message (Days of Praise) from the Institute for Creation Research

March 25, 2023

An Eternal Holy Calling

“Who hath saved us, and called us with an holy calling, not according to our works, but according to his own purpose and grace, which was given us in Christ Jesus before the world began.” (2 Timothy 1:9)

There appears to be an apparent conflict between God’s salvation, which was determined “before the world began,” and our present need to persuade men to believe the gospel (2 Corinthians 5:11). Jesus urged whoever was burdened to “come unto me” (Matthew 11:28), while insisting He had chosen His disciples rather than the other way around (John 15:16). Scripture often expresses this paradox.

Ephesians 2:8-9 states that our salvation is “not of works” but comes to us by the grace of God through faith—and even that faith is God’s gift. Few would argue that salvation is some sort of cooperative work between God and man, since there is no question that our salvation is not due to our efforts. Many passages verify that teaching.

Today’s text insists that our salvation was “according to his own purpose and grace.” Our salvation must meet the requirements set by God’s standards. Just what does that demand?

God must be holy and just while justifying the ungodly (Romans 3:26). His holiness cannot be compromised. Thus, the incarnate and sinless Redeemer had to be sacrificed in order to reconcile sinful man with a holy God (2 Corinthians 5:21 and Revelation 13:8b). Then, the absolute sequence of redemption through grace had to be determined for those “who are the called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:28 and 1 Peter 1:2).

The result of the sacrifice and the sequence had to be fixed so that the redeemed would be “conformed to the image of his Son” (Romans 8:29). Praise God for His “unspeakable gift” (2 Corinthians 9:15). HMM III

[nomadicism]

Now that She Ra is over, what are your thoughts on it? What about that Catradora kiss?

Hi Anon! Thank you for the Ask!

ヽ(*⌒∇⌒*)ﾉ Where to start?

I have so many thoughts on the show, and I’ve had so many thoughts since season 1. I’ve not written much of anything about She-Ra because I keep coming back to this problem of ‘where to start,’ or how to structure my thoughts beyond a +1000 item list. I can’t even pick one or two thoughts to dive into, because they all end up connecting to everything else —> honestly, that’s the mark of a tight narrative, even the big pieces that can fully stand on their own are still leading through to another piece. I fail at every attempt to write something brief.

Section I: Short answer first.

I have a very short and subjective list of media where I not only love (for different reasons) nearly every character (main, secondary, background), but where I also feel that their individual places or moments or arcs concluded in a way that felt right from start to finish. It’s a short list of media where connections and conflict between characters never felt forced, out-of-place, out-of-context, or done for shock value. She-Ra and the Princesses of Power makes that very short and subjective list.

It’s not often that a story hits all the right notes with me, and it’s much more often that a story starts off strong like that, and then turns me off ½-⅔ of the way through. I’ve quit video games during the final boss fight because the story lost me in the lead-up and I wasn’t going to waste 10-20 minutes of my time for something that turned out to be ‘meh’. It ain’t got to be deep, or anything either.

I really loved the voice acting. Everyone is great. A post for another time.

I love the aesthetics, which I wasn’t sure of at first teasers, but won me over in less than 3 minutes of the first episode (season 1) because I love bright pastels, the character designs are fun (can I still gush over variety of body types? YES), so many opportunities to explore stylish takes on the characters, and those Moebius-inspired scenery/background designs are a special interest delight. Season 5 delivered a visual ‘end game’ for the aesthetics in many ways, Section III further down will get into that a bit.

Section II: “What about that Catradora kiss?”

I gotta preface this with, shipping is not my go-to for how I enjoy creative works. It’s not a hobby for me. Sure there’s a few I dig more than others, but I’m otherwise agnostic about ships, unless there is a really bad story-fit (and that’s usually a subjective thing), or involves tropes that are a deal-breaker for me (and those typically relate a lot to the story fit).

With that said, I’m really happy to see Catradora be pulled off so brilliantly, and I think the kiss is a bold and beautiful big deal in a way that might not be obvious when considered in a vacuum. I see it as passionate and heart-felt, but also, it’s achieving(?) a relatable outcome (for me at least) that’s hard to describe. It’s an outcome yielded by a story in which two women—a hero and a villain—are divided and fight bitterly and then reconcile through love, while fighting a purity cult whose founder-prophet-god-king forces subservience through a conversion designed to strip someone of their identity (e.g. names they’ve chosen for themselves), memories-and-motivations, and love for others.

Despite these conversions, love still remains, it can’t just be baptized or therapy-ed away. Controlling puritans and authoritarians wielding religion or peace-panaceas as a weapon have been the villains in the lives of countless women and LGBTQIA people for a very long time. So yeah, I’ve got some feels about that. The last time I felt anything similarly relatable, or as strongly, was the Utena and Anthy relationship in Revolutionary Girl Utena (and really, their kiss during the surreal sequence at the end of the film adaptation).

Section III: Thoughts on Cult Aesthetics and Clones (the rough cut)

(1) In the future scenes at the end, Adora’s white dress with gold tiara and accents have this kind of goddess-like or Pallas Athena feel to it, which is a great mirror of the design choices for the god-like Horde Prime, his Purity Space Cult, mechanics/ship, and flagship interior scenery. Not saying that was the intention, but that’s how it came across to me.

Of course, those colors would be used because She-Ra already wears white and gold with a bit of red accent, which complement how the princesses are bright and colorful (pastels and jewel tones). The bold and bright colors helps signify that Etheria is full of life. Etheria is verdant and magical, and that sets up a contrast to the Fright Zone and the darker colors found in Horde characters (Hordak, Shadow Weaver, Scorpia, Catra, Entrapta, etc).

So the first kind of contrast was with the Fright Zone standing out as a poisoned/toxic against the bright, lively colors of Etheria and the princesses. Season 5 introduces another take on that contrast as Horde Prime is the opposite, or antithesis of Etheria’s colorful life. He’s like anti-life with his shades of light-and-dark grays on white, and only glow-green as an accent. In some cultures and religious traditions, white is associated with purity, and in others it is associated with death.

When Horde Prime ‘purifies’ Hordak for the sins of individuality and emotion (emotion for others, for his own sake), Hordak is drained of the colors he chose for himself during exile. In addition to being a contrast to Horde Prime (and informed by the 80s cartoon design), Hordak’s dark blue (or blue-black) and red color palette reflects the traditional use of red as a color for evil (especially vampirism) from back when diabolism was a stand-in for ‘the Devil’ in many forms of visual media (comics, live-action, animation, etc). In place of diabolic red, Horde Prime has toxic glow-green.

I absolutely love the use of the glow-green accents. Color trends for villains and significations of evil come and go, and I’m glad to see the color green be used again, and used so well. The last time I saw that shade of glow-green used so well was in Sleeping Beauty (re: Maleficent’s magic and the orb on her staff) and as the Loc-Nar in Heavy Metal. In both films, there are connotations of evil as a poisonous and corrupting influence. Green, in the context of evil, almost always signifies poison (and sometimes envy). I also like that the glow-green color is used in ways that aren’t immediately saying ‘this is evil’, such as the green baptismal waters and flames from the purification scene, or the green amniotic protein fluid. The language of piety and trappings of the sacred can cloak a sinister purpose.

I don’t know if any of that was intentional, but Horde Prime feels like the perfect synergy of purity and death (which has additional connotations, but that’s a very personal interpretation).

(2) Horde Prime immediately gave me subtle cult vibes in his first cameo (Season 3), and the follow-through on that was perfect and exactly what I was hoping to see. The background music throughout the scenes aboard the flagship fits well (love the soundtrack), and has the quality of Ecstatic Experience without pulling directly from any specific religion. Horde Prime’s dialogue is a delightful bit of narcissism veiled with the language of piety.

A purity cult comprised of clone-brother-worshippers of the cult’s founder-prophet-god-king reinforces that narcissism and has all the fun-dark feels of shiny-techno-future-dystopias. It is also an interesting use of clones, especially in a story format that usually never has the time to really dive into the complexities of cloning. This is the sort of thing that you’d be more likely to see in a one-off episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation, rather than the basis for a greater scope villain, or multi-season nemesis. (and yes, Star Trek: TNG had an interesting clone episode)

Clones in science-fiction tend to fall into just a few tropes, and I generally dislike seeing clones show up in a story because the execution nearly always feels sloppy (in small ways or big ways). I did not get that feeling from She-Ra, where, the clones occupy the “cog in the machine” trope, but it is not their existence as clones that make them that way, it is the Will of Horde Prime that does. They are simultaneously expendable and sacred in their unity. It’s a nice flip on “stronger by working together” that Adora and the others have to learn (and struggle) to do.

It seems like, despite their religious programming, the clones have a little bit of their own personalities until Horde Prime ‘inhabits’ them to exert his Will. I’m trying not to read too much into it, b/c what comes across as ‘inhabits’ to me (especially with the religious/cult context), was probably meant more literal like described in the dialogue as a hive-mind control kind of thing. The first time it happens—to post-wipe/death Hordak—felt to me like a possession scene from The Exorcist, but without the kind of horror visuals that would scare both adults and children. The quick-and-subtle amount of body contortion and sound is still gross and creepy (because it should be), but it also reminds me of Ecstatic Experience in the form of speaking in tongues, or snake handling, or being a medium for a spirit. Again, I’m not saying any of that is intentional, but that’s how I see it.

(3) Finally, there is Entrapta, Hordak, and Wrong Hordak. Clones rarely get to be ‘humanized’ through friendship or romance arcs. I can think of a dozen or more robots that get to be humanized in that way, but can’t recall any clones that have (excluding doomed clones whose friendship/romance only existed for the sake of selling the tragedy of their death). Hordak gets death, renewal, and romance in a way that worked really well, and the totality of it is unique. I was a bit surprised that they could work in another clone—and I love Wrong Hordak—who pulls triple-duty as (1) comedy; (2) relevant to moving various pieces of the story along; and (3) more humanizing of the clones, which, again rarely happens as most stories take the easy low road when it comes to clones.

For Entrapta’s part, she’s never put in the position of giving up who she is (‘weird’ by many standards) for a romance. Her passion for technology is both an amusing double entendre at times, and integral to who she is. A romance for Entrapta does not replace her passion for technology, she can have both. Dating myself but, I came up in a time where most media (for children or adults) would rob a woman of her agency or passions during the resolution of a romance arc. Maybe times have changed, but it’s still nice to see none of that nonsense happening here.

[aksthetwosainthijimiko-blog]

I’m Not Zero

So... what happens when I turn Zero as a Vaishnava (someone’s whose Navigator is God, Krishna)?

Not what you’d expect.

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Phantom struggled, he had lost the fight, he was as close to shut down as he could... and would bring Zero with him to the void.

Or... this had been the plan.

But it seemed the Red Plague had other plans.

“G... Get of me!” Phantom scream as he tried to dislodge the maverick currently plugged in his system, hacking his programs and turning of the self-destruction module that had been about to activate...robbing the Shinobi of his glorious sacrifice in the most shameful and disgusting of manner.

“Nope... Not after what you tried to do, coward.” Zero spat as he reduced Phantom’s mobility to that of a newborn kitten. Still pressing onto him, preventing the already damaged reploid from even attempting to fight him off...

He had a mission to finish, and if he had to take his own miserable life to get the wily old model scrapped.

Said wily old model was now currently crushing him against the far wall. And despite Phantom’s superior processing speed, Zero’s movement speed had been beyond what he could record.

And for this... he was now disarmed and experiencing the horrifying reality that Zero was in his OS.

Unable to lift his weight, the Shinobi was lowered to the ground by the bane of Neo-Arcadia. Said bane unplugged from Phantom and turned him around so that he was sitting more or less comfortably with the wall at his back.

“Hey... you alright there?” He dared to asked as if he really cared for an enemy.

“You hacked me!” Phantom accused as he tried to burn the sicko with his eyes.

It was inefficient, but it would have to do.

“You were about to suicide.” Zero stated as he peered right into Phantom’s soul. His dark eyes holding a power beyond anything the Shinobi had experienced before.

Not even from a fully grown elf.

“... and why do you care?” He challenged as he tried to unlock his detonation protocols, only to discover that it was completely gone. “Curse you...curse you to the deepest pits of hell!” He tried to scream, but he only managed to hissed it.

Then... Zero did something that took Phantom completely off guard.

Zero smiled.

“Oh... Thank you.” He spoke with not a shred of sarcasm. “May you reach Goloka then.” the bid to the downed guardian.

“Gee, thanks... may you go to Goloka too then.” Phantom slathered as much hatred and sarcasm he could...like a human would do with this brown stuff.

But instead of anger born of a bruised ego, Zero’s gave an even brighter smile! “Great! So don't you dare suicide again, and I’ll personally let you pass Chandranana stick.” he declared as he finally moved out from Phantom’s face... only to sit beside him on the most infuriating and casual manner as possible. Even daring to appeared tired as he let out a huff.

Phantom did his best to ignore him... and attempted to contact reinforcement. Only to be met with a disabled transceiver. Zero had cut whatever access to help he had.

The black and white reploid managed to slid his eyes toward the maverick... he was all alone with the beast, the killer of all mutos and... there was nothing he could do.

Phantom closed his eyes...and began to empty his mind of all thoughts and fear. If he was about to face death...or worst, then he would rather prepare himself and enter the void even before Zero had any chance to corrupt and kill him...or worst.

Time became meaningless, his body but a suggestion...and his mind silent...

“Hare Hare...Hare Rama, Hare Rama, Rama Rama, Hare Hare...Hare Krishna Hare Krishna..”

Phantom’s eyes flew open, his meditation broken. And openly gapped at the maverick.

Zero was sitting in a lotus position, he still had his erect back to the wall, his head held high and gently swinging to the Mantra.

Oh, Phantom knew what a mantra sounded like...and he knew what Mantra meditation was. He was just taken aback as to how the bane of Neo-arcadia’s well-being knew mantra meditation... Not that it was such a great thing.

Those mantras were just crushes, aids for calming the mind. Eventually, the practitioner would keep them inside his purified mind...and finally, they would need nothing.

“So... you still at level one.” Phantom sneered, more than willing to rib the beast until he would either go mad and or leave. “ Pathetic, you can’t even remain in silence.”

“...not really.” Zero admitted. “The Maha-Mantra is meant to be shared with other’s. The more you share, the more potent it gets.” He revealed with a (beatific) smile. Then he turned to Phantom. “How about you? What do you meditate on?” He asked... “Actually, can you wait for... I think thirty minutes? I just have four rounds left to chant and... I would like to finish them today.”

Phantom stared.

Zero sighed. “Listen... the reason why I’m hiding here is that I didn’t have any peace for the last five days since my resurrection. And I barely had anytime to chant any rounds... and my Gayatris.” He admitted with a grumble.

Phantom gapped... this... His intel had told him nothing about that.

“I just want thirty minutes... more if possible.” Zero sighed. “I really don't want to cause any trouble.”

“Not cause us trouble?!” Phantom scoffed. “Well, didn’t you destroy our most important supply train? Took over a factory... And now you’re here to kill master X!” The Shinobi accused the mad man.

“Yeah... Sorry about the train... I still have no idea why Ciel wanted the thing gone. And the computer’s too.” He admitted as he rubbed the back of his helmet.

“Wait... What computer?” Phantom asked.

“You know, the one Leviathan used for Hacking the resistance... I was supposed to destroy them but... I just turned them off, I hope it didn’t cause any inconveniences.” Zero admitted as he let his head heavily rest on the wall, his helmet noisily hitting it. “I swear... I had no idea what I was doing half the time... Thank God for.... God.”

Once again, Phantom hidden brows reached the top of his unseen hair. “God?”

“Yeah... you know, Krishna. He helped me realized that what I was doing was dangerous. Still had to stop this damn train tough, it would have derailed by junction 2-b, by the park... That’s what He said anyway.”

A shudder intruded in Phantom’s frame. Yes, he knew this infamous junction in Neo-arcadia’s most popular park.

Why was there a park in such a dangerous area, and why was a centennial overpass above it that kept dropping pieces of concrete... it could only be a device by the urban sector to do some population control...

‘Alright... Have to look into this mater...’ Phantom tried not to be to happy and admit that Zero’s presence and destructive behaviour had work out for the best in the end but...

“What are your intention?” He asked, not expecting much from the maverick.

“Serve Krishna... Stop the fake from spiting on my X’s legacy and memory and find his tomb.” He revealed like one listed a grocery list.

Phantom stared at him owlishly. “I beg your pardon?”

“My ultimate mission is to constantly serve the lotus feet of God, Sri-Krishna. And He just so happens to like X enough to help me get him out of trouble again.” Zero elaborated to a still confused guardian. “He told me he was between Area X and the throne room at the top. I may have to face Ciel’s copy... But He told me killing him will only make things worst.” He huffed.

“Wait, wait wait! What do you mean by... Ah...”

“Confused?”

“Yes...” Phantom peevishly admitted. “Let’s start with the...copy.”

“Four years ago, Ciel made a copy of X, he went crazy...like all copies do, and now she wants me to kill him.” The ever infuriating Zero explain. “Even X want’s him dead... By the way, do you have any idea why X is now a Cyber-elf?” He asked the Shinobi, who was still trying to compute what Zero had just said.

“What?”

“ X got turned into a cyber-elf... so I guess he’s a... like  Ghost, but Krishna told me he’s more like an astral-projection.” He explained.

 “So God told you.” He pointed at Zero. “That our master X... is a copy.... and that the real one is... still alive and astral-projecting as a cyber-elf... and he never spoke to us?” Phantom scoffed. “Alright, what Type of third-party program you downloaded to get this High?”

“None... That was Ciel, the one who made the copy... who told me about the Copy.”

“And you are aware she’s a traitor to Neo-Arcadia?”

“And you are aware that her information was confirmed by a disembodied X?”

“And how do you know it was X? For all you know, this crazy-cyber elf is just pretending to be X and Ciel, being the junior terrorist she is, tricked you all to assassinate our glorious master.” Phantom shot back. “And aren’t you supposed to suffer from amnesia?”

“ Oh, Krishna cured me of that... I just didn't tell people.” Zero gave a shrugged. “Listen, I’ve known X before the first maverick war, and we’ve been partner for fifty years before I did my dumb pro-move.” Zero informed the practically immobile phantom. “ I Know my Partner...and I know that his biggest pet peeve is to have a fraud use his face to propagate racism and wholesale slaughter. Oh, and speaking with which, were you aware as to how they retire reploid at the centre?” The now incense reploid asked the still very confused Phantom. “They crush them to death under a spiked platform... the operator stand on top.” Zero glowered.

Phantom stared at the fuming mad-bot... “Ah! And you want me to believe that?!”

Zero’s gaze did not move from Phantom’s... but his featured now held the eyes of a man who saw too much. 

And suddenly... Phantom received a tiny video package... it was the fight with Aztec Falcon... on top of a very oily platform... some retired units crushed limbs and a very small reploid’s head was still stuck on the spikes. Their empty gaze boring a hole in Phantoms artificial soul.

Now... Phantom was used to the horrors of wars... and he knew what torture was, but those he would question would always have a swift death by his blade and their bodies respectfully disposed not... not...

“Harpuia... Harpuia must not... this is...” He felt sick... quite a feat for one who lacked a gagging reflex. Something that was useless in his thankless job.

“If he’s aware of it... Krishna gave me permission to cut off his head...” Zero’s tone held a dark promise of retribution. And Phantom was certain he would and could see it through. “This is what the resistance is fighting against... and this is why X told me to destroy his Copy with extreme prejudice.”

Phantom’s head snapped back toward the red nemesis.

“And... Gods... what did God have to do with all this again?” Phantom weekly asked, feeling his whole world to be reduced in rubble.

“Ah... Krishna’s just navigating me toward and auspicious result. Something that won't leave a bloody crater at my exact location.” Zero informed the Shinobi as if this was a complete normal thing to go through. “And he told me where I could find X... He’s in a coma and... Basically, he sealed a very confused elf with his frame, this caused him to... get pushed out of his current body and now... I have to get him out of this tower and try to convince the goof to return.”

“And then?”

“And then... if I succeed, I give a new name to the copy, teach him how to be the best ruler he can, then I bring X to Mayapur where we will live our last decades away from politics, wars and whatever else made this place famous.” Zero enumerated as he once again took to the lotus position. “Now... If you’ll excuse me, I have a few rounds I have to chant...”

“Why did you tell me all this?” Phantom asked, still shaken by the numerous revelation he had just received from the second oldest reploid in the world.

“Krishna told me I couldn’t to it alone... and from everyone in Neo-Arcadia, you're the sanest.” And with that, he began to chant again, leaving a very stunned Phantom to compute all the information he had just received.

Thirty minutes later, Zero’s pleasant drone stopped, and he got up. “Alright... I’ll just... give you back your limbs, I couldn’t risk having you have another go again.” He mumbled as he turned Phantom around and, after repluging it to his system in the most respectful way possible, switched his cerveaus back on. even going as far as to help the ninja up and dusting him off.

Then he took a step back, inspecting Phantom under a critical eye...

Then he reached in his meta-pocket.

Phantom... quite stupidly froze. Only to be proven wrong when Zero pulled out an Energen tank. it was already open... And half-drained.

“I know... It’s all I have.” Zero apologized.

Phantom stared at... maybe a peace offering.

Reviewing all that he had learned, and the revelation the mad man had given him....

He pushed the can away. “As much as I appreciate the offer, I’d rather you have it Zero.”

The Red Legend stared at Phantom, his features unreadable.

“You need it more than I...” Not really, but the Guardian of darkness knew where to find the emergency rations. “ I will humour you and let you look in every nook and Cranny of this tower for X. If you find it and prove that the one I’ve been serving is a Plagia, then I will personally kill him. If not... Your life will be forfeited.” He intoned darkly. “You have twenty-four hours...”

“Oh ah... Thank you. I...” A small and infinitely grateful smile light his features. “This... this is more than I deserve.”

“Indeed.” Phantom inclined his head, sending a message to his fellow guardian. “You may stay here and prepare... Mediate as long as you desire, the day is not over yet.”

“No... I’d rather not waste anyone's time. And Krishna’s telling me the earlier I start the better. Thank you for the offer tough.” Zero paused... it was clear he was listening to someone. “Krishna just told me that you have to come with me since I will need a trustworthy witness. You fit the bill.”

“You know I’m a ninja, right?” Phantom asked.

“So am I... and as He said, your trustworthy.” And with that, Zero closed the subject and turned his heels. “Come on, we need to get to area-X, He said that’s were the service door to Yig... Yadra... To where X is.”

“Alright... lead the way.” At this point Phantom had nothing to lose... and he had the feeling this would prove to be most entertaining.

“Oh, by the way. You may call me Dhira-Lalita Das... Or just Lalita, for short.” Zero informed the shinobi... who had that point just nodded, humouring the clearly insane obsolete model.

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And this monstrosity was born after that failed R.P...to be continued.