#self-proclaimed-heretic

[parthenopiadoodles]

Reincarnation Series wip

currently just a sketch but i hope i'll have energy to finish this till the end, i'm thinking a lot of thoughts of them interacting with each other ever since deciding the characters to draw for this... i don't know anyone who has read all these same stories

4 of them are villainesses...

[kittyninja2013]

the other day I saw a banner that literally said "in trump we trust" 💀

[kiko---random-stuff-probably]

The coward way out

Cotl october day 22: get drunk

Small note: this is before Kallamar got his crown.

This was a disgrace.

Not only his god just accepted that man into his palace just because that squid started waving a white flag and promised to switch sides in exchange of protection after that self proclaimed war of god had an important defeat on the battlefield, but now that heretic was basically his god's new favourite follower.

And Astaroth hated it.

He absolutely loathed that coward, and the only reason why he didn't kill him was because Asturas would had got upset, and he wasn't a heretic.

His god wanted to have Kallamar by his side? So be it.

It was still an horrible idea, but a divine one.

This didn't mean he was going to just accept the presence of that traitorous coward inside the cult he swore to protect.

That was why, during the ball the god of Longing decided to have like usual, Astaroth was standing against a wall, in his knight armor.

Kallamar was sitting nearby, humming something to himself (a song maybe, but Astaroth didn't recognize it). He looked really relaxed, and had an half empty glass of wine in his hand.

The squid moved his head towards the jellyfish, and smiled.

- Don't just stand there. This is a ball, darling. You should enjoy it.-

- Unlike you, I actually care about my duties towards the ones I swore to protect.-

Kallamar rolled his eyes - Again with this. You are acting like I betrayed you instead of Shamura.-

Astaroth stared at the squid, that looked away as he offered his glass of wine, and kept talking.

- Still, you are the favourite follower of Asturas, you should at least have a glass of wine or something. You almost make me feel bad for having fun.-

- I do not consume alcool.-

- Really?- Kallamar looked genuinely surprised - Isn't it strictly tied to Asturas doctrine?-

- It is, but I don't like to not be lucid while I'm working. You never know when someone could try to kill you. As you should know, anyone could decide to stab you in the back.-

- You really are a delight to have at a party- the squid murmured, and directed his gaze to the shark deity who was busy assuring that everyone was having fun at his ball and enjoying the expensive wine.

Astaroth kept staring at the squid, frowning as he contemplated all the jewels Asturas gifted to that coward. The gold and silver chains of the necklaces wrapped around his neck, making a stain of fundation covering just partially a bite mark on it almost stand out.

Astaroth was filled by a mix of rage, disgust and something else at the thought of how he gained it, and wondering if he had any marks on other places.

The squid noticed, and tilted his head to the side, taking the chalice to his lips - You know, for someone talking about duties and things like that, you sure enjoy ogling at your Lord's new companion with such audacity.-

Astaroth could feel his face burn from embarassment, ad he quickly looked away - I am not ogling you.-

Kallamar chuckled and shaked his head, and looked at the big clock in the room.

He standed up, and handed his glass to Astaroth, that this time took it, and the squid exibited a cocky smile on his lips.

- Don't worry. I'm used to it.-

He got closer, and Astaroth started to panick as Kallamar chuckled at his reaction.

- I hope we will be able to further elaborate your desires in the future.-

Astaroth couldn't find any words, but Kallamar evidently had enough fun that night, so he decided to leave him, humming serene.

The jellyfish stared at him as Kallamar walked away, and then looked at the glass of wine now in his hands.

It was still at the same level.

Strange, he was sure that he drinked it.

Actually, more than once the squid bringed it to his lips, and yet he couldn't recall seeing him getting any refills during the entire duration of the ball.

Was he pretending to drink it?

One of the guests started to cough, bending forwards as they covered their mouth with one hand.

Then started to choke on his own saliva, and fell down.

Someone screamed, as soon most of the presents started to die in the same way.

- Do not worry, I can fix this. Have faith, my childs, I have everything under control!- Asturas tried to calm everyone down, but his speech got interrupted as he coughed up ichor into his own hand.

As everyone started to try to run away or to help whoever was already down, and more and more people fell on the floor, some of them already dead, some somehow still alive, and Asturas started to feel more and more week from both the high quantitiy of poison in his body and the quick lost of faith he was now the victim of, Astaroth met Kallamar's eyes as he was busy prying away a sword from a dead guard hands.

Smiling.

Cotl day 11: poison

[tmwcs]

S E 7 E N : P R O L O G U E - P A R T 1 N E

M A S T E R L I S T

Yay it's finally here! kind of a long chapter, so it's in parts!

Warnings: MDNI18+ Sexual assault, sexual harassment, religion, angels and demons, mentions of hell, angels are bad guys, demons are good guys, sinful pleasures, dry humping, fingering, making a deal with the devil.

“Hey y/n, go ahead and take these, we have to dispose them.”

“But…why?”

“The government has aligned with Senator Forras’s decree and that all scriptures, novels, and materials that contain any mentions of supernatural forces, any other type of religion, or mentions of demons are to be banned and disposed. The officials are making the rounds to do a thorough inspection of every establishment, so we need to get rid of them.”

You frowned as you received a handful of books, some were enjoyable for you to read, and yet you had to bid them farewell as you tossed them into a large bin that was arranged to be picked up later in the week. It was filled with piles and piles of books, some of which were classics.

���What a shame…’

There were many people, like yourself, that questioned the belief and mission of Voia Domnului, the overly powerful cult that started out as small group led by overly, self-righteous religious ‘freaks’ that proclaimed the world has sinned. The cult was, and continues to be led by Michael Forras, who now is the self proclaimed Senator.

At first, the world deemed the cult just like any other, a bunch of lunatics that blabbed out religious nonsense of how everything was a sin, that everyone has sinned. They were harmless, for the most part, the only concern was getting them to stop blocking roads and clear passage of major establishments since they had often protested in mass groups, rather angrily, nearly every single day.

Forras, used to be viewed as a man who lacked any common and good sense. You recalled the moment he appeared in the media, speaking of how he personally ‘knew the Lord’ and that a day of reckoning was breaching. Every day when you were on your way to work, you would overhear the things that the community used to say about him…

‘What a joke, can you believe this guy?’

‘My wife says that she went to high school with that guy, he was just as nutty back then as he is now.’

‘I can’t believe people are buying into his bullshit.’

Now, things are different…much different.

He no longer was just the cult’s leader, but he controlled the city, the country…he was even on his way in leading the continent as people swarmed around him with their devotion and loyalty, although you wonder if it was just merely out of fear from him…or the angels.

Ever since the day where those…monsters had appeared, God only knows if anyone ever heard you reflect what your true outlook was, you’d disappear like the rest of the ‘non-believers’, as society has now called them.

People who had rational sense, a lot of them still had believed and enveloped religion and the belief of God, yet the moment they reflected their voices out and claimed that the events occurring between the angels and ‘the selected’ to be questionable, each one disappeared and was never seen again. Anyone who also spoke out against the Voia Domnului or the Senator, were also considered heretics. If anyone mentioned how the non-sensible actions of the ‘Angels’ and Senator Forras’ will, was a tactic of control and a coordination of inheriting power and wealth, would surely die by the hands of Forras’ cult members, or so you suspect, since many of them would disappear overnight.

When it came to your true outlook, you believed in a higher power, you believed in God and you never took it upon yourself to follow the Bible strictly, but you carried out your life being a naturally respectable and caring person. Whenever someone needed help, you were there for them. Should someone need money to help buy groceries, you aided them. You made countless donations, helped promote education and success for the youths of the city, and even volunteered at local orphanages. You weren’t by any means, a bad person, or a sinner. You were just human, but a good one.

December 2nd of last year, things had changed. The world had changed.

You’ll never forget as you were on your way to the Pacific Archives, a historical public library that you used to enjoy working at, not anymore.

Often, you were always reading the books as you worked, enjoying the amount of creativity found in the hidden gems of each shelf, each genre.

You were an active college student, back when advanced education wasn’t considered a ‘sin’, so it only made perfect sense to work at the library where you could continue your studies and find time to do homework while getting paid.

The building had two floors, the upper being the library itself, and the first floor was the massive café and shopping center.

Just like any other day, you went downstairs to grab your favorite drink. The barista, Lily, was one of your best friends, she started to work at the café once she heard there was an opening during one of her visits while you were at work.

You both had laughed and enjoyed a conversation as you sipped on your white hot-chocolate mocha flavored drink, when suddenly another barista’s voice pierced the lounge.

“Everyone! Look at the TV!”

Everyone’s eyes shifted their gaze towards the massive wide screen smart television that was mounted on the wall, turning up the volume, the staff and customers all watched in horror as the media played countless footage that was filmed of what happened, not too far from where you worked.

“This is Stacy Holcomb from Channel Nine news, here reporting of the… abnormal event that is taking place….you can see behind me as the camera crew are trying their best to take footage of what seems to be….a humanoid figure approaching a single man on the street. The mysterious entity has been seen targeting this man, and has been conducting serious bodily harm against him, paramedics and aid have been thrown out of sight each time they go near to save the man….it looks like-“ “OOOH MY GOOOOOOD!!!!”

The shrilled screams in the background took over the audio as the elongated, almost alienlike features of the entity brutally took the man’s head off...slowly. It’s hand mutated into that a of a blade, resembling a machete as it sawed it’s way through the man’s flesh. It wasn’t a clean cut, to say that it had decapitated the man was an understatement…it tore his head off…ripping it from his body after sawing it halfway through.

The cameras shifted the lens to the ground afterwards, indicating that the crew was running away upon filming what had just transpired.

“What….the fuck???” The barista exclaimed out in horror.

Everyone, including yourself, were left speechless. Some of the customers were crying, while others were in shock. You felt your heart drop, there was a sense of fear and curiosity that you found its way lodged deep within your chest.

‘What….was that?’

It wasn’t until later that day, when Forras came out publicly and announced that the mysterious entity, was God’s own angel. Being someone who self-claimed as the mediator of God’s guardians, he elaborated the structure of the ‘execution’ as justice served for the sinful actions that the deceased had committed while alive.

“I have seen God…I speak to him and his guardians. The Angels have come to cleanse the world, because we have taken many offenses against God’s holy rule and spat in his face as we continue to tarnish his good will. Those of us who have lived amongst the sinners, the filthy beings that keep offending his holy will, have tried to warn you all. Now is the time, I ask you to all believe in the will of Voia Domnului! Believe in our decree! We have preached time and time again that God’s will is en-route, and it has now finally come! We ask for you all to join us! Become a part of God’s will and help aid our mission in getting all sinners to repent and accept their fate, so that we may once again live in a world where only truth and God’s holy name is preached!”

Everyone was in disbelief, no one knew what to believe or what to do. However, as the days went on, more people were targeted, or as Senator Forras had claimed, they were ‘selected’. It didn’t take long for people to switch sides and start to find comfort by joining Voia Domnului, in hopes that they would save themselves from either the cult members or the angels.

“The angels know of your sins! It is futile to hide! Let it be known that once the angels have selected you based off your series of offense towards God, you too will be publicly executed, so we at Voia Domnului ask you, to repent now, as you too will be selected to die in his holy name.”

Maybe there was some truth in what he said, or maybe it was just fear and desperation, either way, at the time, you weren’t entirely sure what to believe. You remained as calm as possible, given that the world had lost it’s good sense. You tried your best to not lose yourself out of fear, but it was hard. It didn’t take long, but you found yourself as the lone wolf, where unlike the rest of the world, where everyone was hysterical, everyone feared that they were next to be selected, you continued to live your life with as much of a positive mindset that anyone could have while living through this excruciating period in world history.

You tried…and you were doing so well, but things had gotten worse.

Almost as if it happened over night, everything changed in an instant. The world felt cold, and empty, there were many times you felt like you were the last person standing as you would take a look around and notice that the route to work looked different. People looked different. The sky…the ground…everything…everything looked different.

No one went out anymore, the streets laid empty as the cult encouraged for society to lay dormant in their homes, as going out, especially at night, was considered a sin. So much, that the cult gained favor and authority, powered by the government to assign long standing members of the cult as high profiled officials. They assigned random members to roam the streets at night, as an established curfew was enforced, no one was allotted to be out passed 10pm. Not only that, but other activities and sources were all banned and punishable by death had anyone breached said bans.

Social media was banned because it was a sin, TV was a sin, music that wasn’t approved by Voia Domnului was a sin, certain foods that were known to be an indulgence of the devil, such as chocolate and apples were a sin. Personal opinions were a sin. Books, talk radio, internet, and all other forms of entertainment was a sin. Everything…everything was a sin.

While you thought it was over the top, you hadn’t formulated your own opinion on what had happened on December 2nd, you remained impartial for the most part, as you watched people, friends, and family all succumbing to Senator Forras’ will and join Voia Domnului in order to be ‘saved’. Even Lily.

“You should join us, it’s, a really good group. It makes sense once you complete their course requirements.”

“Course…requirements?” you raised a brow at Lily’s statement.

“Yeah, when you join, you have to take a pledge and then they put you through a 3-month course where you cleanse your body and learn the will of God.”

You shook your head subtly as you listened to her talk about the cult…or as she liked to put it, the ‘group’ since cult would have been considered a derogatory term for Senator Forras righteous figures.

“No…I don’t know…I just…I don’t know what to think yet. I just want to-“

“Shhh!!!!” Lily harshly shushed you.

“Y/n…you can’t talk like that. Say what you will about other matters but do not talk like that…otherwise you’ll be considered a non-believer.”

Recalling the events that surmised where the public speakers that defied the cult’s leading and Senator Forras’ actions, you heeded Lily’s warning. You didn’t want to disappear like they did, God only knows what happened to them as Lily, being a part of Voia Domnului, didn’t even know. It was against the rules to speak of such matter to the cult leaders.

“Just…think about it, okay? I don’t want you to get selected.” She gingerly tells you as she rubbed your hand. “We need each other…we’re all we’ve got in the world now. You’re my best friend and I just want us to stay that way.”

You nodded as you hugged her. For a moment, you sincerely did consider it, not because you believed in the decree of Voia Domnului, but more so because of Lily’s words.

But then your world shattered that following week….when Lily was selected.

“y/n! Please-please listen to me real quick-“

“Lily….what’s wrong?” you looked at her with great concern as she appeared before your doorstep, hysterically crying, face swollen from tears, and her voice stuttering.

“Please…just listen…umm……” she tucks in her lip as the tears built back up in her eyes once more.

“…I…I’ve been selected…”

Your eyes widened…your heart skipped a beat and your breath held in upon hearing her words.

“…no…..no….”

“Yes….I..I’ve been selected…y/n…” her voice trailed off.

“No…Lily! No! Y-you can’t be-“

“No I was…..I came home today and…there was the message written in blood on my wall.”

The message…was always delivered in the same manner to those that got selected prior to. A message written in the walls of their home, their work, or even on buildings in the street; the words were always drafted in blood, no one knows whose or where the blood came from, but it would always be fresh as the message would have drips that trailed down, catching the public’s eye. It would always have the selectee’s name, followed by ‘7 days.’ Only seven days…until each one of them died.

“Y/n…I’m scared….i can’t tell the group…I cant-“

“Lily…there’s gotta be a mistake. Do you know anyone else that has the same name? What if-“

“No……y/n…..it is me….they’re going to come for me….”

Your heart sank as you placed your hands on her shoulders, tears streaming down your face.

She really truly was the only person you had left in this world, you grew distant from your family ever since they joined the cult, they had refused to associate with you unless you joined them. But your heart never felt it true to be a part of an organization that promotes death in such a manner, regardless of the deceased being sinners or offenders against God…how could someone like sweet, wonderful Lily be selected?…How could she ever be…?

“No….please…..don’t leave me…not like this….this can’t happen….”

“Y/n…please….please hold me I’m so scared.”

You tightly embraced her. She had stayed at your place for most of her remaining days, and you watched as her persona had changed. She had remained quiet and aloof; she wouldn’t eat, she wouldn’t sleep, and she wouldn’t talk, until the sixth day, 24 hours before her proposed execution…

“Y/n…I’m leaving…I’m going to inform Senator Forras…”

“Lily…there has to be a way out of this…I’ve known you my whole life, you’ve never hurt anyone! You’ve gone to church every weekend; I’ve never been to church and I’m still here. In a lot of ways when it comes to praising God, you’re a better person than I am. Please….”

She merely shook her head. Dark circles under her eyes, her lips pale and crusty from lack of moisture as she refrained from even drinking water. It was as if she wanted to die before the angels did the deed.

You stayed silent…she was already moving towards the door. Reaching for the knob, she turns to you before opening it.

“Y/n…you’re my best friend…and I’m sorry. I’m sorry I have to leave you alone…I’ve accepted what’s going to happen…there is no choice. Just please…take care of yourself, and look after my family….but also…” she pauses for a moment, as she hiccups the sobbing tears and stuttered cries of her voice as her head dips down.

“Y/n….i never did anything…..you’re right….i may not have been perfect but I am not a sinner. I even joined this stupid cult….but it doesn’t matter….it was all wasted. Please…if for some chance…if the world goes back to normal someday…please let everyone know that I am not…I’m not a-“

You nodded, knowing full well what she was talking about. “I know you’re not Lily…you’re not….”

Both of you broke down.

You wanted to hug her once more, but you found it hard to even move. With a sad smile, she whispers “take care…” before leaving.

The media had a habit of promoting Senator Forras’ decree by filming and disbursing the footage of each execution, as a method to set the example of what surmises if you’ve sinned. You’ve never went out of your way to watch the profiles of each selectee on the day of their execution, but there were times when in passing or out and about, you would glance at the large billboard that aired the awful events. A glimpse of a man’s body being torn apart, or a woman being burned alive, there were countless methods that the creatures took in carrying out the deed.

The day Lily died, ou never watched what happened to her, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it, so you stayed at home that day, refraining from exposing yourself to the public at risk of overhearing about her death. You had shut the world out, and narrowed yourself into a corner, all so you didn’t have to hear….you didn’t want to know how they did it…not with her.

Not long after Lily’s death, was when the Senator banned education. Schools for younger children was regulated by the cult members, colleges and universities alike were all shut down, and while they hadn’t forced it…yet you sense that the risk of losing your job was near since you were the only one that hadn’t taken the pledge and joined Voia Domnului.

“Y/n! The Senator! The Senator is coming! He wants to see the library!”

Your eyes widened with concern.

‘Why does he want to come here?...I hope it’s not because he knows that i was friends with Lily…does he? He already thinks she’s a sinner, is he going to assume I’m one too? Are they going to ask me why I didn’t join Voia Domnului?’

You caught yourself overthinking, though that wasn’t hard to do since everyone in the city, the country, and the entire continent, walked on eggshells. Yourself including. For if it wasn’t the angels that you had to worry about, it was Senator Forras and his posse that performed their own manner of executions towards non-believers.

“Everyone! He’s coming up! All of you stand in a line-“ the head staff looks at you. “Y/n…you stand at the very end, out of the doorway. If he asks you, just tell him that you’re going to join Voia Domnului, but don’t say anything else.”

You nodded. You knew the staff had your best interest at heart, though they often times reprimanded you and would always try and convince you to join, yet you refrained. Especially since, not long after Lily’s death, selectees were reaching in the younger ages. Children…babies in fact, some of which hadn’t lived for more than 8 hours, were getting selected.

‘How can a child be a sinner?’

It seemed like no one cared; everyone paid no mind to that fact. It was as if everyone was just looking out for themselves. Since you had worked here for quite some time, the staff looked at you as family, like a daughter almost. You appreciated the gestures and them trying to look out for you, but deep down, you followed your heart. Somehow you knew…there was something more to what was happening, even though it was a gut feeling, and you could very well be wrong, you just somehow had this hunch that something wasn’t right.

“Alright, he’s coming. Everyone just stand and he’s going to do a walkthrough, apparently, he wanted to see how the inspection is being done and he chose our library.”

Everyone nods and stands, shaking. You weren’t sure if everyone was excited for their ‘group’ leader or if they were just fearful that he may find something in the archives that violates his will, which of course he believed to be God’s own.

You and the staff spent five days clearing out the library, it looked so vast and empty now. The shelves would only contain a scarce number of books.

‘Can you even call this a library anymore?’

The double doors were opened by a security team as Senator Forras walks in. He was a taller man, older, possibly in his fifty’s and had a very sharp and pointed nose. He had short dark hair and looked to be of average built.

He was dressed in extreme luxury, with a high branded suit and tie, along with fine leather shoes, a large overcoat draping his shoulders, and assorted diamond rings decorating each finger, the man looked to be living a grand lifestyle.

‘How….interesting…’

Your voice issued a hint of skepticism as you minded your thoughts in your head. Wasn’t this man supposed to be the temperance and modest type? Why is he dressed so lavishly?

“Ah! Staff…members of the community, thank you for welcoming me here today. It is truly a blessing to see you all here doing God’s work.”

The staff members issued out their gratitude and continued the conversation as they offered the Senator his tour.

All went well, and by ‘well’ you only meant that the Senator had looked pleased and kept nodding with approval as the tour continued. You and the rest of the staff members continued with your tasks, as the main head of the library took over the tour.

“Thank you, you are doing a good thing.” The Senator issues as he takes the head staff’s hand in both of his and issues a warm and seemingly friendly hand-shake. “Continue to do his bidding.”

You snuck out as the Senator bid his farewell with the staff members, wanting to hide in the bathroom for a moment and avoid interacting with him. The last thing you wanted was to put yourself in the spotlight and be questioned on whether or not if you were a part of Voia Domnului, which you suspected he would have been able to tell seeing as you didn’t’ bear the ring that each member was gifted upon graduating the three-month course requirement.

A moment or two had passed as you stood right by the bathroom door, ear pressed up against it to see if you could hear the Senator leaving.

‘It’s probably safe for me to go back now…’

Swinging the door open, you looked to your left and saw the wide double doors propped open. Only the staff members were seen inside, back to their tasks.

‘Oh good.’

You issued a mental smile as you started to walk towards the entrance to the library, when suddenly…

“Young lady…” his voice was filled with intrigue.

P A R T 2 W O

Taglist: @deobitifull; @solstramaii

If you like to be added on the taglists for this series or any other series on my blog, please send me a message or comment below <3

[self-proclaimed-heretic]

Surprise! I’m not dead!

God I can’t believe it’s been 2 years since I last updated this blog. So if I’m not dead then where have I been? Well, the honest answer is that I got burnt out from running this blog. This started as a hyper fixation of mine that kept me sane as a depressed high schooler and eventually grew into an over 3k following.

While 3k is baby numbers on the internet, it’s still big for me and something I was really proud of, that’s why I didn’t feel right leaving this blog to gather dust without one final update to anyone who’s still around.

So what’s going to happen to this blog? Well, nothing. I will be keeping this blog up as an archive, but seeing as I hardly use tumblr anymore, no new posts/reposts will be made after this final update.

I wanted to thank everyone for the love and support over the years. I’ve met some incredible people and made some lasting memories through this blog.

That being said, this is Self-Proclaimed-Heretic signing off. Goodbye everyone.

[milky-rozen]

Finally finished my first Dislyte OC!

Self-proclaimed mortal enemy to Discboom, Cyrus is a Dj imbued with the powers of the One and Only, Aten, the heretic solar disk!

[definitely-not-an-alb]

ooh, how do you think molly would grift essek?

Alright. Let’s grift Essek.

First I need to note that any objection along the line of ‘Essek is too intelligent to fall for grifts’ is unnecessary, because whatever you think of Essek’s specific characterisation, assuming you are to intelligent to fall for a grift is one of the major ways people fall for them, in a ‘renowned high pressure social group researcher proclaiming on twitter that Sissy Porn is real and dangerous’ kinda way (look it up it’s some hysterical terf bs).

Gonna use that joke as a sidenote that if I am conflating grifts and high pressure social groups in this, it’s ‘cause as far as I care the difference is how self-aware the people running the show are. Watch any MLM-Doku (and I think we can all agree MLMs are grifts) and you’ll inevitably get to the part about weird aspiration culture bs and group pressure. It’s all one soup.

With that out of the way, let’s establish a baseline: What’s Molly’s reason for grifting Essek? Probably money and also the fun of it/being bored. Considering Kingsley abandoned his perfectly fine shipping company job to run off to be pirate king, I don’t think ‘Molly keeps grifting long after the M9 have become financially stable for shits and giggles and because Jester enjoys it’ is too outlandish a projection. Additionally, I don’t think Molly is great with impulse control nor this whole thing where current actions cause future consequences.

Now; why would Essek fall for a grift. Grifting relies on the dupe wanting something more than having good sense about it. Most people want money, so most girfts are structured around greed, but we know money is no object to Essek (though this does make him a juicy target – what he would barely miss might make a good haul for any grifter). We do know he is primarily motivated by knowledge instead, as well as a desire to be recognized as intelligent and exceptional. Additionally, we know he needs (in the character development sense) The Power of Friendship. Lastly, I think it’s fair to say he subconsciously longs for excitement (happy, fulfilled bureaucrats don’t become heretic spies; nor do they befriend a gang of mercenaries; implicitly, Essek is happier living the life of a wayward refugee-adventurer wizard than that of an Evil Gay Vizier Court Wizard or whatever papers a Shadowhand stamps nine-to-five.).

Being a paranoid bastard makes him a harder target, though the fact that we know he has fallen for someone’s bs before (I’m counting the spectacularly bad decision that is him allying with the Assembly as falling for a grift here. That’s a stupid decision to make!) makes him an easier target. Being so socially isolated makes him an easier victim, too, though his general rejection of people and clear discomfort with social interactions makes him an unlikely target for something like a romance scam. Essek’s relationship to tolerating bullshit is a weird one; on the one hand, he does put up with Jester’s (and the rest of the Nein’s) shenanigans, on the other he clearly knows how to and dares to tell someone to fuck off, and there’s that time he just ditches everyone via teleport (hilarious). So boundaries-wise, he could go either way. Lastly, I’d argue he’s at least somewhat impulsive or at least not risk averse. Always remember we are looking at an NPC next to Sword’n’Sorcery Adventurers – Essek might look cautious next to ruin-trawling wizards, but compare him to Gundula, 55, who works in Insurance and just clicked on a phishing link to claim her Totally Real Oilve Garden Gift Card, and you’ll see what I mean – most people are too risk-averse and unimpulsive to, again, commit treason via international conspiracy and then run off without a moment’s notice to dig around a cursed-ass ruin to save the world from a Cronenbergian nightmare.

Conclusion: He’s rich, he’s bored, he loves pretending to be a spy or grand discoverer, he wants to buy your dodgy foreign papers and incredible discoveries about the Luxon so, so badly and he has absolutely no one left in his life who’ll tell him it’s a bad idea.

So, for example, Molly could Voynich him. All he needs is a battered notebook and some writing supplies, whatever knowledge of what wizards’ and alchemists’ and spies’ scribbles look like he can easily pick up from traveling with the Nein and an opportunity to ask Essek to have a look at this encoded notebook he’s been lugging around all over the continent with him, why, he was at this party in Zadash and everyone else was some boring old pompous wizard (such a bore!) so he pickpocketed one of them, just for the fun of it, but, well, turns out neither Caleb nor Beau can make head nor tails of the weird sign code it’s written in (how tragic, if only someone happened to be so much cleverer than both of them!) and if Essek wants to have a look Molly would be more than happy to lighten his pack. For a small pittance, of course.

What’s small change to Essek is probably pretty nice to have for Molly, even by that level and especially if we’re mostly doing this for the fun of it. Essek gets to fall face first into his desire to show up Caleb, Beau and potentially an unknown Assembly member with his clearly superior decoding, espionage and wizardly skills and gain Secret Knowledge, maybe even Assembly Secrets on top of that.

Arguably, this one does rely very heavily on the fact that it’s hard to prove a negative, or in this case, hard to prove a barely-literate conman’s scribbles are just that. Do keep in mind Essek doesn’t know Molly is a habitual conman, but even so, it’s not a fantastic con (Essek isn’t dumb and knows his arcana after all and Molly doesn’t, or at least not enough to make a proper Voynich).

You could make it a better Voynich by getting Caleb in on it, but instead let’s pep it and turn it into a proper Real Stradivari by changing the hints that this manuscript might be legit to being alchemy-related and adding in a shill. Let’s go with Jester, because she’s down to clown, can lie and has a way with Essek’s boundaries.

So this time around, we aren’t asking Essek outright to buy our bogus notes – instead Molly gives him the whole spiel, hands him the notebook, fucks off with as little time to actually look at it as possible before Jester enters the scene to ask what THAT is and go oh it’s about ALCHEMY well, that DOES look like the signs she saw around Yezza’s house, pretty suuuure, oh, do you think it might be Yezza’s? Do you think Yezza might want it? Do you think she should ask Molly to sell it to her so she can give it to Yezza as a present to be nice because she’s such a nice friend who does nice things?

Honestly, the money part is optional if this is wholly about making Essek look up to see if the ceiling does indeed say gullible (and if Jester is involved, it might well do so! Always better to check, with her!), but a proper Violin Drop concludes with the Grifter returning to take their worthless thing back only to be asked to sell by the victim, who thinks the grifter doesn’t know what worth he has. If it was real, offering to buy the notebook would mean Essek outsmarted a minimum of three people (Beau and Caleb can’t crack the code, Molly is too dumb and illiterate to know valuable research notes from the morning paper) and gets his hands on potentially unknown-to-him luxon-related secrets! Alas, it’s not real, as he will realize soon.

So these are two (related) ways to scam Essek. But there’s a third one I want to mention one that is a lot of cinematic fun and I didn’t know had a name until Wikipedia told me no one does it irl (boo! That’s no fun!). It takes a lot of prep, math, and a lot of people and combines Essek’s obsession with the Luxon’s secrets and Molly’s penchant for passing himself off as psychic.

Molly would need something people in Rosohna bet on, like some kind of sport, preferably one with only two results and places people do said betting on said sport in groups. I’m assuming this exists on account of gambling and sports being culturally pretty universal concepts that love to go together.

Anyway. Imagine you’re Essek Thelyss, and one day a bunch of weirdos show up in court with a piece of the god you’re atheistically-heretically obsessed with. A few weeks later, you, having your ears to the ground about new developments regarding said not-god-pieces, hear one of the weirdos has made a name for himself as a outright oracle, correctly predicting the outcome of Fantasy-Dodgeball (Rosohnas’ favourite sport) perfectly six weeks running. He swears it’s because proximity to the Luxon amplified his inborn and long-trained psychic powers to predict the future.

Now, this is obviously bullshit. Except if Essek, being regrettably acquainted with the weirdos, were to ask, Molly would certainly confirm that sure, he has mystic powers and certainly they were amplified by the Luxon and predicting sport results is a hobby of his wherever they go, does Essek want to see? and lead Essek to a bar where every regular can swear on whatever he likes that Molly has correctly predicted the results of Fantasy-Dodgeball since the first week of being in Rosohna, in fact since before he himself knew the rules or track-record of any of the teams. Not only that, but there’s a second bar full of people Molly can introduce him too. And if he wants, he can certainly come back for a drink in one of them again next week when Molly has done it once more. Just call on Molly, he’ll tell you the time and date to meet some true believers, not all of whom can possibly be his shills.

(And, incidentally, barely worth mentioning, really, since Molly’s psychic blessings from the Luxon are so accurate, he has Exciting Business Opportunities for anyone willing to place more than their weekly betting budget in his trust, and he’d love for Essek to take a look at his powers. For a small compensation of his time, of course.)

Of course Molly can’t predict the results of Fantasy-Dodgeball. Instead, the first week of downtime in Rosohna, he found out what people like to bet on in Rosohna and where, picked one or two places in each district, go there and make predictions with a fifty-fifty split, then eliminate each watering hole where he was wrong each week, slowly cutting his audience back to only people who are getting to know him as That Outlander Who Always Knows The Results of Fantasy-Dodgeball, all the while escalating the story from him being just some dude betting and drinking with the guys to the whole Chosen By The Luxon thing. Considering this is a double-scam involving a faith aspect, he might very well still cash in in places he’s been wrong once only since victims of faith-based scams are very likely to overlook inconsistencies in their scammer’s stories or promised results. By the time Essek gets involved Molly’d be down to one or two places of true believers coming to him for ‘always accurate’ tips and a bunch of other people all over Rosohna he might get some money off based on the faith-aspect. And now perhaps one intrigued high-ranking government official who’s more than willing to overlook the hereticism inherent to the whole thing and is instead very likely to fall in the academic glue-trap of trying to disprove something clearly bogus that you do kind of want to believe in because like.

Wouldn’t it be cool? If the Luxon had more awesome powers? And one of them happened to fall in Essek’s hands, with no oversight and no need to cooperate with someone like Trent or Ludinus? Would he not want it to be real?

Anyway. The real answer to this question is: Enlist Beau to send bogus stuffed bills to Essek’s secretary. Bureaucrat on bureaucrat violence, let’s go.

[unbreakable-oaths]

champion - for the single-word fic prompt!

Thank you! Mostly because this got me out of my writing funk I've been sitting in for the past month.

Can also be read on ao3 here

Of Champions and Tragedies

Ysayle kissed her like her lips held an inescapable sin. Her white knight, her little dragon, with mother’s gift and taken in and turned champion by her enemies before she could find her. Turned into a weapon. Godslayer. Now a temptation she couldn’t quite resist even if it led to her death. (It did lead to her death, but not the way she anticipated.)

Cyella kissed her like she could find absolution in her lips. A century of answered prayers sent to reveal the truth hidden beneath a veil of light. An angel of death sent to extract retribution and instead choosing forgiveness. And, if she kept chasing those lips, she might even find it.

Khutulun the blacksmith claimed she was no such profound or holy thing. She was just a woman at the wrong place at the wrong time (the right place at the right time) who, after all that had transpired, would never be able to go home again. Champions had a cause, she maintained, a higher sense of purpose. All she had was a desire to test her mettle against what the world had to offer and escape the expectations shackled to her name, and maybe get to kiss a pretty girl or two if she was lucky.

“Is that not, little dragon,” Ysayle had said to her so long ago during a quiet night on their pilgrimage to Hraesvelgr, “how all champions start?”

“Your actions, my dear,” Cyella said to her now, during a quiet night in the Crystarium, “speak otherwise. Far louder than any of your protestations.”

And then they kissed her again.

“Champions,” Khutulun pointed out to each of them, when she could speak again, “are far better people than I. I am bloodthirsty, full of rage. When my shield broke, people died. Instead of reforging it stronger, I forged it into a weapon so it could never fail me again.”

“Little knight,” Ysayle chided, “you forget you’re speaking to a heretic.”

“Little warrior,” Cyella chided, “you forget you’re speaking to the Shadowkeeper.”

“Retribution is a righteous motivation for a champion to have,” Ysayle had said, back then.

“Rage is a powerful emotion,” Cyella said to her, now, “all champions have those. How else would they keep going against all odds?”

And then they kissed her again.

Khutulun the blacksmith was not a champion. She was a woman running from destiny even as it kept showing up at her door. Champions were better people, braver people (not that she wasn’t brave) than she. People who stood for a cause because they believed in it, not because they didn’t have a choice. She was just a blacksmith with a sword and a gift, dragged into this because the temptation of testing her mettle against “impossible” foes was too much for her to resist. Champions, she’d protest, have cleaner hands and cleaner consciouses than her. There was neither sin nor absolution to be found on her lips. She was a godslayer, not a god. Champions were holy things, and she was not.

“I don’t think,” Ysayle said to her, “champions don’t get to choose what they are. That is their tragedy.”

“A self-proclaimed champion is no champion at all,” Cyella echoed, years later, “Trust me, I would know.”

And then they kissed her again.

Champions, Khutulun lamented, had far too many people die for them. Left far too many people behind. She was not worth the trail of bodies left in her wake.

The Ysayle in her dreams smiled. “I’d do it again,” that smile said even as memory faded away.

“That is,” Cyella sighed, “the champion’s other tragedy. It is not up to you to decide if you’re worth it.”

And then she kissed her again.

Khutulun the blacksmith would never consider herself a champion. She was far too foolish for that. But for others? She would play the part, after all they had long ago decided without her that that’s what she was. And perhaps, she decided, that was actually her tragedy.

[cherubchoirs]

out of curiosity, how do you think an encounter between Micheal and Gabriel would go after Micheal's botched fall? not only did Gabriel fall, but he's with a machine? surely that's gonna do a number on Micheal's mental state. (btw, i'm utterly enamoured with your archangels and gabv1el content! seeing you post about them is always a highlight of my day)

i talked about how i think gabriel would react here, so i want to go in a little more on michael's perspective as well as the WHOLE v1 issue. because the thing is....his rallying against gabriel lacks context at first, knowing only that he fell and that, as hell's warden, he is determined to restore full order beginning with gabriel. he is grieved at his loss, he feels wholly responsible for it as he has long feared that gabriel's questioning would lead to his fall, and the only way he can manage that terrible guilt is to see him bond to his proper punishment. just the same way he always handled lucifer. however, the situation becomes much more complicated upon actually meeting with gabriel and fully understanding his fall. as well as meeting v1.

michael, importantly, takes no joy in the work he forces himself to carry out - this is about his repentance, this is about maintaining god's order no matter the consequences, this is about proving that something of saint michael is left in him. he condemns gabriel, he proclaims his own righteousness, yet his voice reflects none of it in spite of how he tries to feel the rapture at carrying out god's will - no, all of his words are flat with a barely concealed grief and anger behind them. he wants detachment from this awful task, to bind gabriel and let him haunt him the way he always has been. yet this is all that can save him, it's the only action he can take in his desperation to not leave such a hideous stain on his own memory. and when gabriel begs to know what's become of him, he offers the simple, automatic response: my light was severed. nothing more needs to be said of his heinous actions.

yet a dam breaks in gabriel at the words, the frozen shock melting away into a furious indignation that demands to know who did this. who stole michael's light, who dared touch the prince of heaven and tear him away from god's people - he vows to find them and rend their heads from their shoulders just as he did the council. that admission resounds in michael's skull - is this why he fell? damned to treachery for the assassination of the council? michael laughs, the first welling of emotion he can't contain. gabriel had done what he would have - in michael's mind, the council was nothing more than a self-selected group of heretics who laid claim to god's throne and his authority. they deserved their deaths, yet he knows no exception can be made because any exception means to stray. gabriel has taken life eternal and michael's adherence to god's law is biblical - a sin is a sin, even if the sinner was right. his whole body cries out against the action as he draws his chains, telling gabriel there is no need. he tore out his own light. and seeing gabriel stricken still again, he rushes in to complete his work and be done with it. he hopes gabriel will make it easy on them both.

but while ice roots gabriel to the floor, v1 enters to fend off michael with a few solid hits that seem to do less than it hoped in deterring him (though it quickly determines the underwhelming response seems to be due to an inability in michael to feel pain) and THIS is when the encounter goes entirely off the rails because michael hadn't really registered v1's presence, let alone that it might be related to gabriel. and before he can reach any conclusion, gabriel snaps back to attention as he calls out to it and the small machine signs back to him, gestures quick, a bit irritated, and unreadable to an outsider. michael would voice his disdain for it, a low alliance that proves gabriel's deterioration, yet i think gabriel would counter it with the truth of what v1 means to him. he is far beyond caring, especially with how disoriented this encounter has already left him - and hearing v1 disparaged incenses him besides (v1 has never understood it, but gabriel is adamant about maintaining its honor).

michael is flooded with relief, the ache in his open chest releasing him as his thoughts narrow into a single objective. this is gabriel's true treachery, to love what wasn't made by god. this is so much easier, this rids him of his guilt at punishing the sin he would have committed himself, extinguishes the pride he felt in gabriel's rebellion against unlawful kings. he is a demon, like any other, and gabriel is dead. he smothers any other emotion before it can drown him, refusing to show anything to the unnatural pair before him - the assault is immediate, singular in focus as the vessel of god's holy wrath and shut down to anything else. gabriel has seen it before, michael's uncanny ability to throw a killswitch in his head and drain himself of any semblance of a personality. even with god dead, it seems he's retained that talent - gabriel had never been on the receiving end of it but thankfully v1's reflexes are as fast as ever and gabriel had always been the only one that was able to talk michael down when he couldn't seem to come back to himself. this feels just off though - gabriel thinks little of the difference given michael's state, but it's obvious he's targeting v1 specifically for dismemberment. if this is what gabriel fell for, it better prove itself worthy.

[littlefandomfairy]

🩷 (fluff) 🍆 (smut) 😈 (angst) 🩹 (hurt/comfort)

fic rec masterlist

🧟‍♀️ Jim (28 Days Later)

all the time in what's left of the world by @self-proclaimed-heretic 🩷

morning light (series) by @kiss-me-cill-me 🩷🍆

in our perfect present tense by @pedropascallme 🩷🍆

🌊 Matthew Joy (In The Heart Of The Sea)

i told you i'd come back right? by @dracuno 🩷🩹

🍀 Cillian Murphy (AU)

five minutes peace by @garrison-girl-08 🩷🩹

[burningsuitfire]

Ludinus's Research (and Essek)

Okay so. I actually think Essek might've known way more than the fandom assumes.

First of all, he hints multiple times that he knew Da'leth had a secret weak spot, research that he couldn't afford for anyone in the Empire to discover. And as such, Ludinus needed the war to stop.

How much do you want to bet Essek keyed onto and was talking about the Martinet's secret dunamis research for his moon plans?

(91) Caleb: I want to see the conflict end and I do not get that sense from them. Essek: ...What is the biggest danger... to secret research? Caduceus: Discovery. Essek: Discovery. What better way to avoid discovery than to find a way to stop a conflict that pries into what you're doing?

(125) Beau: You'd be smart to focus your attention to Ludinus and Ikithon. Yudala Fon: It never leaves them. And they've been acting quite nervous recently.

(97) Essek: (...) you're all in terrible danger for the things that you know. Their research is to continue and we are to correspond as the research progresses. There is intent to end this war.

Also, common fanon seems to think Essek didn't get any research when Matt, Da'leth, and Essek himself said the deal was an ongoing cooperative exchange.

If anything, DeRogna, Yeza, and Ikithon said that the Assembly was having a massive amount of trouble on their end trying to work with dunamis and the beacons, and would really need Essek in their work for insights (as Essek said was happening) and to work with the dunamantic expert and intelligence lynchpin.

And another point. The raids. Even if Ludinus wasn't forthcoming with Essek in their meetings (which Essek said he was), the Kryn were raiding research facilities.

The Felderwin raid, which people seem to take as evidence that Essek wasn't getting information, kinda looks like it suggests the opposite. Only after months of experiments and effort and expense and problems did they get a single potion, and Yeza said it was barely days after the completion when the Kryn raided. Incredible timing.

Meaning that it sure seems like the Martinet gave Essek information, possibly even more than he intended, and Essek wasn't playing nice.

Essek, who said his being in Rosohna was the exception right up until the ceasefire (where we saw him constantly in both important wartime full den meetings and sparse late night meetings, seated on the council, deeply influential and personally requested for the Bright Queen's strategy and war efforts)

(94) Essek: It prevents me from some of my capabilities throughout the day each time I do this, so while I'm here in my home and things are not requiring me to be elsewhere rapidly, thankfully this is a moment in time in which I am more useful here in the city.

He could've even been in Felderwin.

Also, if Ludinus was trying to sway Essek over to the Vanguard and his side, easy money that the heretic (a self-proclaimed "coward" who refused self-preservation via consecution, and managed to annoy his own intensely religious father to the point of self-destruction) wouldn't be happy about it.

That attempt at recruitment and following rejection could've easily been the cause of the unpleasant dynamic and tense conversation between the two on the Assembly's boat.

Bonus, Essek's leyline device. That's relatively simple, and a friend clued me in. Essek being able to track leyline strength is just useful for timing dunamancy research for his "personal studies" as he calls them. It's been pointed out multiple times in CR lore that wizards like ley spikes and solstices because the flare in leyline strength and ley energy just means it's easier to manipulate arcane energy and make new spells.

Look where the Tal'Dorei Guide talks about leyline strength and spellmaking.

The Verdant Expanse is saturated with magic. The ley energies that suffuse the greenwood make it easy for arcanists to create works of spellcraft by themselves, when it might take a half-dozen mages working in concert in other lands.

[the-perfect-entropy]

The Entropy - Shattered Brotherhood

Warband: The Perfect Entropy

Legion: [UNKNOWN]

Status: Traitoris (?)

Hierarchy: [UNKNOWN]

Heraldry: A shattered silver chalice with a splintered ouroboros on it.

Known Members:

Adrian Malek - Self-proclaimed Chapter Master. Braggart Hal - Praetor Nia - Shadowmaster Helotes - Apothecary Sarn Nox - Techeun Argyros - Harrowmaster

They call themselves the Perfect Entropy and in doing so have long marked their souls with the heretical and the ruinous warbands that also swim the depths of the Cicatrix Maledictum.

Their story spans centuries to a time of great calamity, when Chapters were Legions united under far fewer banners and falling upon one another in a war that engulfed the entire galaxy.

They escaped that fresh hell scarred and broken and destitute without the safety of their Legion to shelter them from being hunted. They could not even count to return to their homeworld as it was long excised for even being considered ally to the traitor's banner.

So they wandered and built themselves enough of a power to venture out away from the great rift in hopes that someone or something could grant them purpose. A place to be and possibly the chance for redemption.

[indragonsaur]

Demontober 2023 Day 20: Baphomet

Baphomet, also known known as the "Sabbatic Goat" is a demonic entity, a king of demons, usually equated with Satan and an idol adopted by the Knights Templar from Islamic belief. He is also the self-proclaimed "god" of his own cult the Halo of the Sun which has the town of Silent Hill in an iron grip.

His name is believed to be a corruption of Muhammad, the founder of Islam. He is usually depicted with the head and legs of a goat, with a torch between his horns and a pentagram on his forehead, with black bird wings, and the body of a human woman or hermaphrodite.

He has the power to control all human women, and is said to give witches their power, thus, famously known as a demon worshiped by witches. In some branches of demonology, Baphomet is seen as a high-ranking ruler of Hell and one of Satan's many henchmen. This may go some way into explaining why the two demons often seem to share the same qualities. Baphomet is a goat-headed demon who was worshiped by practitioners of the occult, although there was little evidence of this actually occurring until later in history. He was also supposedly the secret benefactor of the Knight Templars during the height of the persecution against the Order.

The Knights Templar, heroes of the Crusades, were accused of worshiping Baphomet by a church Inquisition and branded as heretics. To keep them silent, the head of the Templars and another senior leader were sentenced to be burned alive. However, it was later revealed that this was orchestrated by King Philip IV of France, who coveted the Templars' wealth and moreover was purportedly under the influence of Baphomet himself who used the king to twist the image of the Templars and their faith.

Despite this, Baphomet's worship came to an end when the Brotherhood of St. Longinus waged war against the demon's cult, joining forces with the surviving members of the defunct Knights Templar, while destroying and burning any effigy and unholy church that was created in reverence to Baphomet. One cult member and founding member, Jennifer Carroll, was able to grab a bas relief of Baphomet and flee persecution at the hands of the Brotherhood of St. Longinus. Due to Baphomet's lingering essence within the bas relief, he kept Jennifer alive to fulfill his needs. Unfortunately for Jennifer, she would meet her end during the Salem Witch Trials through burning by puritanical Christians in 1692.

The bas relief was again taken by sympathizers for witches during the Trials and settled within Maine. Baphomet's cult only grew within Maine, eventually settling in a town that would come to be known as Silent Hill. Baphomet had his cult grow inside the town, infiltrating the public institutions of the town while gradually gaining more influence and power

[panthera-tigris-venenata]

For the prompts:

Frollo's house burned down in the middle of the night. Frollo may or may not have been inside. The only one who knows everything that happened that night is Claudine, and she isn't talking.

Yeah, this one is not pretty. Claudine is not having a good time. Like, at all.

It will be good for her in the long run though.

Frollo‘s is burning – again. The flames high, and no one bats an eye. And if there is screaming, well, who cares? The old man had it coming, hadn’t he, and his daughter was seen running through the Isle towards the port.

Thus, no one really cares.

The chapel burns, and so does the home next to it, and still, no one talks. No one brags about killing the judge and self-proclaimed priest, and Claudine won’t say a word, will she?

No, she won’t, save for prayers and curses alike, and something that might or might not have been an exorcism.

Too bad she isn’t the only one who speaks latin here. (All three Hook siblings. Evie. Marya Rasputin, in her broken version.)

Exorcism is fairly easy to recognise, though, after all these years of living in the general vicinity of Claudine’s father, and even if it wasn’t, well.

Claudine was indeed running towards the port, only to halt in one of the dark back alleys of the dock. In the dim light of the dawn, she pressed herself against the wall and into a corner, her palm gripped tightly around the blade of her dagger.

The blood slowly dripped down – drip, drip, drip. Claudine tried to think of the pain in her hand, and she failed.

Thus, with bloodied hand, she reached up and arranged her hairs back into their place: she lost her weil somewhere, didn’t she? 

Who cares? Who would blame her?

And like that, bloody and with free hair, she pulls back her shoulder blades and forces her hands to stop trembling, no, stop, now is not the time, is it ever–– she walks through the port towards Gaston’s cabin and prays that Gil is there for once and she will not be forced to visit the false goddess’ ship.

For once, maybe for the first time Claudine can even remember, her prayer is answered. (Or is it? Wouldn’t it be better for everyone if she just- didn’t come? She doesn’t need help. She doesn’t deserve help, she––– she should have stayed in the fire.)

Regardless, unaware of her damning thoughts, Gil looks out of his window when she throws a pebble at it, and then jumps immediately out.

„Claudine,“ he lands in front of her and takes her trembling hands to his, takes away the dagger that she is still holding at the right wrong end, „––––, what happened? Are you okay?“

Claudine wanted to nod and say „yes, I am, why would I not be, the God looks over me,“ like always, but instead, tears flowed from her eyes and sobs spilled from her lips.

Traitors.

She chokes on the sounds and presses her lips together, bloodless.

„––––, might I hug you?“ he asks and she leans away from the contact. She shouldn’t be touched.

„Are you injured?“ he asks, still holding her hand gently – she could tug away any moment, run away, why doesn’t she?

„Let me take you to the infirmary,“ he says, urging her to go along, and she doesn’t run away still.

She just lets the second mate of Lost Revenge escort her through the port, and only as they can see the ships, she remembers: „Not Revenge, Gil, not Revenge–“

She doesn’t think she can deal with Uma and Harry now, and whatever cult they have going on.

Gil doesn’t argue with her, only asks: „Hope, then?“ and starts walking again when she nods.

Scattered hope is better. No godlings and heretics. Probably. Possibly. 

Only Marya, the half-demon. Claudine hears her praying sometimes, but her prayers are wrong, and her father says said that were Rasputins not dark witches and creatures of pagan hell, there might have been still hope for them, somewhere.

Claudine doesn’t have slightest idea what he means meant by that.

Claudine starts reciting her own prayer under her breath.

Soon enough, they’re by Scattered Hope, and Gil asks for permission to board. The permission is granted, accompanied by several curses. Claudine barely registers them.

She is at the infirmary now, and Gil is with her, still holding her hand. Marya is there too.

„Send her away, Gil,“ Claudine begs in French, sure that Marya won’t understand, „Please, send the demon away. I don’t want to be damned.“ 

She almost chokes at her words again, but Gil sends confused Marya again, and asks Murphy to get Bonny from Revenge, it’s urgent, pretty please.

„I’m not injured,“ Claudine tells him, but he doesn’t listen, calling for Bonny anyway.

Before the door closes, she sees Marya, upset about being thrown out of her own infirmary, hugging Sammy Smee, and Harriet Hook, impatient as always, pacing the deck.

„I’m not injured,“ she repeats again, nothing happened to me, she wants to say, but doesn’t. That would be lying, wouldn’t it?

„Oh, ––––,“ Gil only says, and asks her if he might hug her again. This time, she doesn’t say no.

She’s tired. Oh God, she is so tired.

Bonny comes and talks at her and Gil tells her what to do too, their voices blending into one. Yes, she can move her fingers. Yes, she can follow Bonny’s finger with her eyes when she moves it. No, the world doesn‘t swim too much, not even when she stands up.

Eventually, Bonny clears her and leaves for the Revenge again.

„I told you I was not injured,“ she tells Gil again.

„You didn’t tell me what happened, though.“

Instead of an answer, she bites her tongue and presses her lips close and shakes her head.

Gil doesn’t make her talk.

The peace doesn’t last long: Harriet Hook barges into the room, heavy footsteps and cloak flaring like a pool of blood behind her, and Claudine sits up, back straight and eyes like steel. She is biting at her cheeks still.

Harriet sends Gil away with but a glare and the doors shut and they are alone, and Harriet knows, Harriet knows, HARRIET KNOWS–

„You did it, Claudine,“ she says.

Claudine bites her cheek harder. She doesn’t want to talk and she isn’t sure this is real, anyway.

„Your father’s chappel is burning, has been for quite some time, and no one has seen him since yesterday,“ Harriet continues mercilessly, „Your father’s chapel is burning and no one says a word about it. No one brags. Calista Jane would have bragged, as would Harry. There would be the flag of Lost Revenge instead of the cross. Ivy de Vil wouldn’t have left the walls standing, and Mal and Maleficent, oh, they fey would have shown off his burned body in the marketplace.“

Silence.

Silence and Claudine’s heartbeat, her blood rushing through her veins. She wishes Gil came back and threw Harriet away; she wished she stayed in the flames, too.

„You did it, Claudine,“ the pirate Captain’s voice is too soft and her words sound like a congratulation, „You did it. You killed your father.“

Claudine looks at her hands, now cleaned of blood and soot by Gil and Bonny, and her fingers twitch for the relief of the blade.

There is no blade near, though, so instead she says it, carefully tasting the heavy words in her mouth.

„I did it. I killed my father.“

Few heartbeats of silence.

Claudine can feel Harriet’s cold eyes on her.

„Will you judge me? Will you tell?“

She can practically see the answers running through her mind, each more cruel and cutting and true than the last, but what actually leaves Harriet’s lips?

A small smile and „no, I won’t,“ and Claudine is grateful for that.

[orthodoxydaily]

Saints&reading: Tuesday, September 5, 2023

august 23 _september 5

THE PRIESTMARTYR IRENAEUS, BISHOP OF LYONS (Gaul_202)

The Hieromartyr Irenaeus, Bishop of Lyons, was born in the year 130 in the city of Smyrna (Asia Minor). He received there the finest education, studying poetics, philosophy, rhetoric, and the rest of the classical sciences considered necessary for a young man of the world.

His guide in the truths of the Christian Faith was a disciple of the Apostle John the Theologian, Saint Polycarp of Smyrna (February 23). Saint Polycarp baptized the youth, and afterwards ordained him presbyter and sent him to a city in Gaul then named Lugdunum [the present day Lyons in France] to the dying bishop Pothinus.

A commission was soon entrusted to Saint Irenaeus. He was to deliver a letter from the confessors of Lugdunum to the holy Bishop Eleutherius of Rome (177-190). While he was away, all the known Christians were thrown into prison. After the martyric death of Bishop Pothinus, Saint Irenaeus was chosen a year later (in 178) as Bishop of Lugdunum. “During this time,” Saint Gregory of Tours (November 17) writes concerning him, “by his preaching he transformed all Lugdunum into a Christian city!”

When the persecution against Christians quieted down, the saint expounded upon the Orthodox teachings of faith in one of his fundamental works under the title: Detection and Refutation of the Pretended but False Gnosis. It is usually called Five Books against Heresy (Adversus Haereses).

At that time there appeared a series of religious-philosophical gnostic teachings. The Gnostics [from the Greek word “gnosis” meaning “knowledge”] taught that God cannot be incarnate [i.e. born in human flesh], since matter is imperfect and manifests itself as the bearer of evil. They taught also that the Son of God is only an outflowing (“emanation”) of Divinity. Together with Him from the Divinity issues forth a hierarchical series of powers (“aeons”), the unity of which comprise the “Pleroma”, i.e. “Fullness.” The world is not made by God Himself, but by the aeons or the “Demiourgos,” which is below the “Pleroma.”

In refuting this heresy, championed by Valentinus, Saint Irenaeus presents the Orthodox teaching of salvation. “The Word of God, Jesus Christ, through His inexplicable blessedness caused it to be, that we also, should be made that which He is ... ,” taught Saint Irenaeus. “Jesus Christ the Son of God, through exceedingly great love for His creation, condescended to be born of a Virgin, having united mankind with God in His own Self.” Through the Incarnation of God, creation becomes co-imaged and co-bodied to the Son of God. Salvation consists in the “Sonship” and “Theosis” (“Divinization”) of mankind.

In the refutation of another heretic, Marcian, who denied the divine origin of the Old Testament, the saint affirms the same divine inspiration of the Old and the New Testaments: “It is one and the same Spirit of God Who proclaimed through the prophets the precise manner of the Lord’s coming,” wrote the saint. “Through the apostles, He preached that the fulness of time of the filiation had arrived, and that the Kingdom of Heaven was at hand.”

The successors of the Apostles have received from God the certain gift of truth, which Saint Irenaeus links to the succession of the episcopate (Adv. Haer. 4, 26, 2). “Anyone who desires to know the truth ought to turn to the Church, since through Her alone did the apostles expound the Divine Truth. She is the door to life.”

Saint Irenaeus also exerted a beneficial influence in a dispute about the celebration of Pascha. In the Church of Asia Minor, there was an old tradition of celebrating Holy Pascha on the fourteenth day of the month of Nisan, regardless of what day of the week it happened to be. The Roman bishop Victor (190-202) forcefully demanded uniformity, and his harsh demands fomented a schism. In the name of the Christians of Gaul, Saint Irenaeus wrote to Bishop Victor and others, urging them to make peace.

After this incident, Saint Irenaeus drops out of sight, and we do not even know the exact year of his death. Saint Gregory of Tours, in his Historia Francorum, suggests that Saint Irenaeus was beheaded by the sword for his confession of faith in the year 202, during the reign of Severus.

The Apostle and Evangelist John the Theologian, Saint Polycarp of Smyrna, and Saint Irenaeus of Lyons are three links in an unbroken chain of the grace of succession, which goes back to the Original Pastor, our Lord Jesus Christ Himself.

In his old age, Saint Irenaeus wrote to his old friend the priest Florinus: “When I was still a boy, I knew you... in Polycarp’s house.... I remember what happened in those days more clearly than what happens now.... I can describe for you the place where blessed Polycarp usually sat and conversed, the character of his life, the appearance of his body, and the discourses which he spoke to the people, how he spoke of the conversations which he had with John and others who had seen the Lord, how he remembered their words, and what he heard from them about the Lord ... I listened eagerly to these things, by the mercy of God, and wrote them, not on paper, but in my heart.”

Source: Orthodox Church in America_OCA

HIEROMARTYR POTHINUS, BISHOP OF LYONS (Gaul_177)

The Holy Polycarp (February 23) sent Pothinus from Asia Minor to spread the Gospel in Gaul. He brought many there to faith in Christ, and became the first bishop of Lyons. During a persecution of Christians Pothinus, who was then ninety years old, was brought before the proconsul, who asked him 'Who is the Christian God?' Pothinus answered 'You will find out, if you are worthy.' He was beaten fiercely with staves and stones, then thrown in prison, where he died of his injuries.

PHILIPPIANS 2:5-11

5 Let this mind be in you which was also in Christ Jesus, 6 who, being in the form of God, did not consider it robbery to be equal with God, 7 but made Himself of no reputation, taking the form of a bondservant, and coming in the likeness of men. 8 And being found in appearance as a man, He humbled Himself and became obedient to the point of death, even the death of the cross. 9 Therefore God also has highly exalted Him and given Him the name which is above every name, 10 that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of those in heaven, and of those on earth, and of those under the earth, 11 and that every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.

MARK 4:24-34

24 Then He said to them, "Take heed what you hear. With the same measure you use, it will be measured to you; and to you who hear, more will be given. 25 For whoever has, to him more will be given; but whoever does not have, even what he has will be taken away from him. 26 And He said, "The kingdom of God is as if a man should scatter seed on the ground, 27 and should sleep by night and rise by day, and the seed should sprout and grow, he himself does not know how. 28 For the earth yields crops by itself: first the blade, then the head, after that the full grain in the head. 29 But when the grain ripens, immediately he puts in the sickle because the harvest has come. 30 Then He said, "To what shall we liken the kingdom of God? Or with what parable shall we picture it? 31 It is like a mustard seed which, when it is sown on the ground, is smaller than all the seeds on earth; 32 but when it is sown, it grows up and becomes greater than all herbs, and shoots out large branches, so that the birds of the air may nest under its shade. 33 And with many such parables He spoke the word to them as they were able to hear it. 34 But without a parable He did not speak to them. And when they were alone, He explained all things to His disciples.

[grcvityfclls]

continued from here with @siphvnr

Maybe the odds weren't 50:50. If he looked at Kai like that, there was probably only a 1% chance of success and 99% against him. Of course, the Siphoner saw through his game. Dipper wasn't the acting type. Besides, Kai wasn't in the league of petty criminals that Dipper had successfully defeated so far. If he took the rumors seriously, Kai had far more experience than Dipper would get to anytime soon. Plus, Kai had something Dipper would never have. “I should have at least tried.” Dipper's smile was crooked, but sincere. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. But the smile disappeared a second later when Kai raised his hand. All color drained from the face of the self-proclaimed discoverer of the unknown. 

Magic had always found a way into Dipper's life. He himself had cast spells that required words, not magic. Still, he could feel the tingle in the air when Kai cast spells. The soft crackle in the air when the magic found its way. Dipper had a hunch, a gut feeling at least, that whatever spell Kai would cast, he wouldn't be the one affected. And he was right. As he took a few steps back, he could see Wendy and Mabel disappearing right before his eyes. 

Being human had never been as bad for Dipper as it was at that moment.

 “It's not here.” Dipper swallowed as he looked back at Kai. The heretic needed a trump card. So his friends were somewhere and probably relatively safe as long as Dipper played along. But he didn't want to imagine what Kai would do to them if he even got the idea that Dipper was trying to trick him again. Well, Dipper would try, but he just didn't have a brilliant idea. So why not play along? Well, either he would come up with another idea, or Malachai Parker would get what he wanted. Whichever way. One of them would win today. And even if it was Dipper, it probably wouldn't be a real win. "I'd be pretty stupid to leave it in the Shack, wouldn't I? We have to go into the forest. There's a hiding place. It used to be a lab, but now I'm using it. It's not far from here and we can take the golf cart at least most of the way there.” The fact that everything Dipper had found in recent years would also be there could be both an advantage and a disadvantage. That would remain to be seen. “The golf cart is behind the house, I just need to get the key and then we can go.” It was up to Kai whether he would follow him. But Dipper actually just grabbed the key, which was kept in the kitchen of the house, and his vape, which was plugged into a charging cable in the kitchen. As soon as he left the house, he took a drag and tried to calm his nerves with the nicotine. He was only moderately successful. Not at all, actually. But at least they were both on their way to their hiding place in the forest just a few minutes later.