#the way of the transgressor is hard

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"ON SENTENCE DAY." Windsor Star. October 6, 1913. Page 7. --- The Awarding of Penalties For Crime Is a Grim Affair. ---- Were you ever in a penitentiary - not, of course, to stay longer than you would stay at a friend's house when paying an informal visit, or, at the most, not longer than you would sit in a theatre to witness a tragedy to its thrilling close? If you have been there you have some idea of how hard is the way of the transgressor.

And it comes up with peculiar vividness and pathos as one sits in a criminal court on sentence day, and listens to the representative of organized society order men and sometimes women, too, to these places of confinement and punishment.

In the criminal careers of hese men, the first step may have been taken years before, and when it was taken little did the guilty one think the goal of crime would be reached. On sentence day the goal is brought within sight - the grim walls, the armed guards, the solitary cells, the dusty stone heap, the days of monotonous and hopeless toil. They all loom up and cast their dark shadows over court, and audience and prisoners.

That shadow rested upon the Court of King's Bench recently, says a writer in The Montreal Standard, when ten men received the reward of crime. That crime does not pay has often been demonstrated. The truth was realized by those men when they received their wages for wrong doing years within the grim walls with other criminals for associates and the men with the loaded rifles for keepers.

With few exceptions, these wretched men had never before stood in the dock as convicted criminals. For some it was the consequence of their first dabbling in crime. It was the tragedy of their lives, and no wonder they stood there with trembling lips and blanched cheeks, and with streaming eyes, cool, before they stepped from the dock and began their journey to the penitentiary.

"Each was given a chance to speak. To each the Clerk of the Court repeated the question, asking if he had anything to say why sentence should not be passel upon him according to law. With few exceptions each spoke a few words - rambling words, intended to suggest extenuating circumstances and to plead for mercy. Some began with forced calmness, but most broke down, and their last words were drowned in sobs. Tears streamed down the cheeks o some, but unavailing tears, because they could not wash away the past. These men came too late to a realization of the immutable truth that sin is a poor paymaster."

Two men stood at the bar, who had stood there before convicts from the penitentiary, who had committed crime while undergoing punishment for other showed no emotion, and little concern, although they went back with prolonged terms to the dreary place they knew so well.

They were dressed in prison garb - rough suits, one-half blue and one-half a rusty brown. Both were miserable looking specimens of humanity, of low intelligence, brutal, even ferocious. In the dock one of these miserable creatures betrayed his accomplice. They had assaulted a prison guard; and, when asked if they had anything to say before being sentenced, one charged the other with being the instigator. Partners in crime, one was traitor to the other when both stood at the judgment bar.

Singly or in couples, the prisoners came to the dock. and then turned away with the weight of their sentences upon them. Before them lay the short journey that ends at the iron-bound gate in the grim stone- wall.

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Deuce Spade - Platinum Jacket Vignette

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Deuce: This museum really has a ton of paintings. Not that I really know how to act in quiet places like this…

Deuce: Oh, but I can't use that as an excuse. I'll have to be a good supporter for the museum, just like any honor student would!

???: Is this dome… a teapot cover? Why would the Card Soldiers be carrying tea?

Deuce: Huh, you don't know, Sebek? Cool, then I'll tell you about it.

Deuce: This painting shows a scene of a trial from one of the Queen of Hearts' legends…

Deuce: And those Card Soldiers aren't actually carrying tea, but a witness for the case: a tiny mouse!

Sebek: Hmph, what's with that smug look? Well, fine, never thought there'd be a day that you'd have something to teach me, I suppose.

Deuce: Heheh. I'm a supporter for the museum, so it makes sense that I can explain something like that.

Deuce: Since I'm a student of Heartslabyul, I made sure to study extra hard all the tales related to the Queen of Hearts or her Card Soldiers.

Sebek: Is that so? Still, did it require two of them to transport a single small mouse?

Deuce: According to the story, it was a crucial witness, so they wanted to make sure it got to the Queen safely.

Deuce: Ah, that reminds me… We had something similar to this painting go down at Heartslabyul just the other day.

Deuce: Though, it wasn't a witness that was getting brought in…

Sebek: What, was there some lout breaking the Queen of Hearts' laws?

Deuce: Yeah. There was this one student who'd been breaking the rules over and over again, and he was finally being brought before Rosehearts-ryōchō for a stern reprimand…

Deuce: When the two guys tasked with hauling him in came to bring him to the Housewarden, that rule-breaker ran.

Sebek: Why do you even have people tasked with hauling others in…? You folk in Heartslabyul have far too many strange duties and rules!

Sebek: But that transgressor is also a coward, fearing reprimand and fleeing without taking responsibility for their actions.

Deuce: Right? He made his bed, he's gotta lie in it.

Sebek: Judging by your manner of speech there, am I right to assume that you helped to secure that transgressor?

Deuce: Yeah. I ran after the guy and caught him in a flash.

Deuce: Not like I've been training my legs or working on quick, explosive power in my sprints while in the Track and Field Club for nothing!

Sebek: Oho, so you captured them. And what were those two that were supposed to have brought him in doing?

Deuce: The guys on duty were apparently so shocked when the rule-breaker ran away that they couldn't move quick enough.

Deuce: But once I brought him back to them, they firmly took hold of him on both sides and brought him to the Housewarden, though.

Sebek: I see. So perhaps the reason why it isn't considered overkill to have two people on duty for such a thing is in case something unexpected occurs.

Deuce: Maybe…? I guess so.

Deuce: Ah, but listen to this. After he finished reprimanding the rule-breaker, Rosehearts-ryōchō praised me for a job well done.

Deuce: "Not only did you capture the transgressor without a moment's delay, but you showed good judgement in allowing the students on duty to do their job as assigned," he said!

Sebek: True, normally you'd do something brash like bringing that offending student directly to Riddle-senpai after capturing him.

Sebek: An unusually calm and mature judgement, coming from you.

Deuce: Hey, nothing "unusual" about it! It's not strange that I was able to think that through.

Deuce: Because, I'm on my way to becoming an honor student!

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Sebek: Oh, this painting… It looks as though it's based on the legend that speaking a wish into a well would make it come true.

Deuce: Yeah, so if you make a wish into a well, it sends your voice back out. I remember that well, 'cause I always thought that was odd.

Sebek: It's merely an echo. What is so odd about that?

Deuce: Huh, an echo?

Sebek: You didn't even know that? I'm speaking of the phenomenon in which sound bounces off of water or walls and is reflected back.

Deuce: Huh… Oh, so is that the same sort of thing as when sounds reverberate in a tunnel?

Sebek: That's right, as tunnels are also primed for echoes.

Deuce: Oh, okay… That actually brings back memories.

Deuce: Whenever I'd be riding through long tunnels, I'd put the pedal to the metal and rev it up so loud.

Sebek: You'd rev what? Are you talking about some kind of music?

Deuce: No, no. I'm talking about a blastcycle, not any instruments or whatever.

Deuce: The engine can make different sounds based on the body of the blastcycle, or even from the way it's ridden.

Deuce: It can make heavy thumping sounds, or low, rolling sounds…

Deuce: And it can be really fun to change up my driving style just to hear those different sounds.

Deuce: Whenever I ended up alongside another driver who knew how to make their own engine sing,

Deuce: It was easy to just end up competing to see who could make their engine rev louder.

Sebek: And what is so fun about that? It just seems to be a cacophony of noise, based on what you're saying.

Deuce: YOU DON'T GET IT AT ALL! It's great because I can feel it to my core.

Deuce: And, it feels sooooo amazing to feel the vibration of the engine echoing off the tunnel walls!

Deuce: AND PICKING UP SPEED IS THE BEST PART!

Deuce: The faster I go, the higher the pitch of the engine…the more that sound echoes in the tunnels…

Deuce: By the end of it all, the only sound I can hear is the blastcycle engine… I just can't get enough of that feeling!

Sebek: Shh, Deuce. You're being too loud, lower your voice. You're going to bother everyone else trying to enjoy the silence.

Deuce: Ah, sorry… Actually, kinda feels weird to get told by you of all people to lower my voice.

Sebek: Why is that? I don’t raise my voice like that unnecessarily.

Deuce: Eh… You seriously saying that right now?

Sebek: Obviously. At any rate, I don't really understand what you were saying about those blastcycles, but…

Sebek: You shouldn't cause a ruckus while riding, unlike what you did just now.

Deuce: Well, obviously I try to ride so I don't bother others on the road… At least, now I do…

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Deuce: Oh hey, it's the Lord of the Underworld. I like how brave he looks flying through the sky in this painting.

Deuce: And on top of it all… He's way too cool, rushing to the front lines like that to save his captured comrades!

Sebek: Right. The Lord of the Underworld must have been a truly capable fellow, able to take on even the most difficult missions by himself.

Sebek: One would require proper deliberation and competency to achieve positive results.

Deuce: Urgh… That hits a sore spot…

Sebek: A sore spot…? Ah, you are talking about what happened last week.

Sebek: I remember seeing you, Grim, [Yuu]… and Ace, if I recall. It was while I was heading back from flight class.

Sebek: All four of you were standing like idiots in the hallway, being scolded by Trein-sensei.

Deuce: URGH!!!! You saw that!?

Deuce: I-I didn't plan on it ending with us getting in trouble! It wasn't supposed to end like that…

Sebek: I'm sure it is a ridiculous story… But why not, I'll listen to whatever excuses you come up with.

Deuce: At the start of History of Magic class, Trein-sensei told [Yuu] to read out loud a passage from the textbook.

Deuce: But that page was completely ruined by drool, since Grim fell asleep on it the night before, so it was impossible to read.

Deuce: So, I raised my hand, offering to read it instead.

Sebek: So why did that end up with you all being sent out to the hallway?

Deuce: …I forg… …xtboo…

Sebek: I can't hear you, speak up.

Deuce: I… I'M SAYING I FORGOT THE NECESSARY TEXTBOOK!!!!

Sebek: So you tried to step up, even though you didn't have the textbook… You're a fool who has gone beyond help.

Deuce: Ace was saying something like that, too. Both him and Grim were laughing at me for that.

Deuce: Even though it was really Grim's fault in the first place!!

Deuce: [Yuu] even pointed that out to them, but they wouldn't stop, so…

Deuce: We ended up arguing… Which then got us sent out into the hallway before long to deal with the consequences of our actions.

Sebek: So that's why you were in the hallway. However, I don't understand. Why did you do such an unnecessary thing?

Sebek: Even if Grim or [Yuu] were to be reprimanded, that has nothing to do with you.

Deuce: Nothing to do with me? Come on, there's no way I can let my friends flounder like that.

Deuce: I mean, Grim aside… [Yuu]'s helped me out a ton before, so.

Sebek: Hmph. Then I guess at the very least, next time you should act after you've determined whether you have your textbook or not.

[Sebek walks off]

Deuce: YOU DON'T HAVE TO TELL ME TWICE!

Deuce: Geez, and he walks off after one last parting shot, huh… Ugh. Guess I'll try to shake off this funk by checking out some of the other exhibits.

Deuce: Oh, this is a painting of a girl singing with flowers. She looks like she's having fun, but according to the story…

Deuce: If I remember correctly, she was described as vulgar, rude, and weedy...

Deuce: Doesn't matter where you are, or who you are, everyone has to follow the rules. Not a shocker to me that those who can't follow 'em end up in sticky situations.

Requested by @farfalla049.

[islamicrays]

There are times when you may feel completely overwhelmed and exhausted.

You feel like you have used every ounce of your energy to take care of everyone else and you have no energy to take care of yourself.

The problem is that no one even notices all that you're doing.

There are no words of appreciation and not even a helpful hand.

There may even be criticism and complaints.

Your eyes swell up with tears and you swallow the pain.

How do you keep going when you feel completely depleted and under appreciated?

Take a DEEP BREATH!

Allah sees everything you're doing, even if your spouse, kids or family don't notice and don't give thanks.

Allah will compensate for your hard work and sacrifices, inshaAllah in this dunya and the akhira.

You'll feel the sweetness of iman as you do things for the sake of Allah and you will respect yourself for transcending your ego and the shaytan.

It's quite an awesome feeling when you're able to act according to your ideal self by keeping Allah in mind.

Be certain that Allah is well aware of the transgressors, the liars and the trouble makers.

You will get through this difficulty the way you got through so many other difficulties.

You will gain the strength once again and you will rise.

What if your best days were ahead of you?

What if you meet someone who will appreciate you and make you feel loved?

What if your dreams do come true?

Don't lose hope my beautiful sisters!

Trust Allah.

Get up once again.

Allah sees you.

Allah knows everything.

Simply do your best.

You don't have to be perfect.

You only have to try.

-Haleh Banani

[shinidamachu]

This isn’t a reply to anything you posted, unless you talked about this before, but sort of a fact that I wanted to share: Even until the late 90s, it was normal for fathers to wait outside in the halls while the mother gave birth in Japan. (That might still be the norm, I haven’t visited Japan recently.) I’ve been to some hospitals that didn’t even have a proper waiting room, the husband just waited outside the building or got sent home until they’re called back by the nurse.

So I’m about 50/50 on whether Kagome wanted Inuyasha by her side while giving birth to Moroha. I prefer that he would be by her side, but it’s one of those cultural things. On the other hand, InuKag defy the norm so this is all moot and they do what they want lol

It's like you said: Inukag defies the norm. Inuyasha particularly doesn't seem to care about social rules at all, being a transgressor and a "transgression" of those rules himself.

I find it hard to believe he wouldn't be by her side, especially if Kagome wanted him to be and I pity anyone brave enough to try and stand on his way.

And honestly? Why wouldn't she want him there? It's a very scary experience and they've been each other's physical and mental support for their entire journey.

It feels sily to deny themselves the comfort of going through this milestone together just because of some made up cultural rules when they literally defied time and space to be reunited again.

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

Wise and Foolish Sons

1 A wise son heareth his father's instruction: but a scorner heareth not rebuke.

2 A man shall eat good by the fruit of his mouth: but the soul of the transgressors shall eat violence.

3 He that keepeth his mouth keepeth his life: but he that openeth wide his lips shall have destruction.

4 The soul of the sluggard desireth, and hath nothing: but the soul of the diligent shall be made fat.

5 A righteous man hateth lying: but a wicked man is loathsome, and cometh to shame.

6 Righteousness keepeth him that is upright in the way: but wickedness overthroweth the sinner.

7 There is that maketh himself rich, yet hath nothing: there is that maketh himself poor, yet hath great riches.

8 The ransom of a man's life are his riches: but the poor heareth not rebuke.

9 The light of the righteous rejoiceth: but the lamp of the wicked shall be put out.

10 Only by pride cometh contention: but with the well advised is wisdom.

11 Wealth gotten by vanity shall be diminished: but he that gathereth by labour shall increase.

12 Hope deferred maketh the heart sick: but when the desire cometh, it is a tree of life.

13 Whoso despiseth the word shall be destroyed: but he that feareth the commandment shall be rewarded.

14 The law of the wise is a fountain of life, to depart from the snares of death.

15 Good understanding giveth favour: but the way of transgressors is hard.

16 Every prudent man dealeth with knowledge: but a fool layeth open his folly.

17 A wicked messenger falleth into mischief: but a faithful ambassador is health.

18 Poverty and shame shall be to him that refuseth instruction: but he that regardeth reproof shall be honoured.

19 The desire accomplished is sweet to the soul: but it is abomination to fools to depart from evil.

20 He that walketh with wise men shall be wise: but a companion of fools shall be destroyed.

21 Evil pursueth sinners: but to the righteous good shall be repayed.

22 A good man leaveth an inheritance to his children's children: and the wealth of the sinner is laid up for the just.

23 Much food is in the tillage of the poor: but there is that is destroyed for want of judgment.

24 He that spareth his rod hateth his son: but he that loveth him chasteneth him betimes.

25 The righteous eateth to the satisfying of his soul: but the belly of the wicked shall want. — Proverbs 13 | King James Version (KJV) The King James Version Bible is in the public domain Cross References: Exodus 9:20; Judges 19:30; 2 Chronicles 10:8; Ezra 9:12; Job 18:5; Psalm 18:5; Psalm 111:10; Psalm 119:1; Proverbs 1:31; Proverbs 6:6; Proverbs 9:7-8; Proverbs 12:11; Proverbs 12:23; Proverbs 14:24; Proverbs 21:6; Proverbs 23:13-14; Proverbs 25:13; Ecclesiastes 7:5; Isaiah 47:11; Luke 12:20-21; Luke 15:14; Colossians 3:9; James 3:2; Revelation 2:7

What does the Bible say about parents leaving an inheritance for their children?

[thowawayuntilfurthernotice]

Can you name the reason why the villains of the show (helluva boss) are so bad and forgettable.

You know what? Instead of wasting time talking about the villains in Helluva Boss, I thought I'd just give an example of a more entertaining villain group.

I decided to use the Decepticon Justice Division (DJD) from the Transformers IDW comics for this example, mostly because I'm a huge Transformers fan, and they're a great example of how to properly do a "Less is more" villain archetype.

So who are the DJD? They're a group of murderous Decepticons who hunt down and kill any traitors and transgressors among the Decepticon ranks.

Why do they do this you ask? Because they're that loyal to the Decepticon cause.

They're not exactly the most complex villains, nor are they as multifaceted when compared to characters like Megatron, Starscream, and Shockwave. But you can understand why they are the way they are.

Now, compare that to Stella who has no real character motivation outside of "She's a bitch."

Or Striker, a guy who hates Hell's upper class but has no issue with working for Stella, twice!

And don't even get me started on Andre and his dumb "Stolas is more useful to us alive than dead" logic, he's a part of Hell's upper class! He could have easily used his connections to forge a fake will that gave Stella control of everything.

Sure, one could argue that Tarn does come off as a try hard edgelord sometimes, but as an audience member, you can get a grasp on who he is as a person and what motivates him. Which is more than I can say for any of the villains in Helluva Boss.

[freedomfireflies]

Angst idea for teach me Harry (spawned from the morning blowy mentioned in take me)💡

(Pre their consent convo) Y/n wakes h up with a blowy but unknowingly to y/n he’s in the midst of a nightmare… and he wakes up so frightened he screams get off not realizing he’s awake and that his dream is over, in the panic he nearly knocks y/n over and thinking it’s something she’s done wrong she’s instantly riddled with guilt as they haven’t discussed how far their consent stretches he’d done the same for her on her birthday but she shouldn’t assume he’d react the same. However, H soothes her by telling her that it wasn’t her actions that made him react that way but a nightmare, but he can’t explain what the dream entailed because y/n wasn’t exactly painted in the best light; in fact, in the dream y/n was the transgressor.

They were in a field on a normal day exchanging I love yous and getting ready to act on those emotions except this time when he and y/n’s make out session began to linger his lungs went dry…completely dry. They do that normally when the two kiss but not for this long of a stretch, she had literally taken his breath away. he couldn’t get any air in no matter how hard he tried and from the smirk on dream y/n’s face that’s exactly what she wanted. Harry can’t tell his y/n this she’d feel terrible, she’s very into decoding dreams and symbols and would no doubt use this as a reason to doubt Harry’s thoughts on her and their relationship which he doesn’t need after the emotional rollercoaster things started off on for them.

So he stops himself from saying why he freaked just that it was a nightmare; but his unwillingness to explain further makes y/n think he’s just sparing her feelings and that she had done something wrong by not double checking if her surprise action was ok. Essentially the angst of him trying to make sense of his dream without freaking y/n out. But once she finds out what the nightmare was she doesn’t react at all like he expects and mentions how he may have had the loss of breath during the blowy and his dream state couldn’t process it, she even goes on to say it happened to her once too…she had watched a horror film a week ago and dreamed h had eaten her feet, and she’s like sometimes dreams are just shitty and thats fine but not telling me when they happen is not.

HI I'M SO SORRY I DIDN'T ANSWER SOONER, I WAS SAVING IT TO REMEMBER!!!

I don't think they would maybe begin or even try something like this until AFTER the consent convo, but I do love this idea for a little extra and the way you had me gasping and laughing, this was so good and so well thought out!!! This is adorable and I think this would be so fun to explore?? AND I CANNOT THANK YOU ENOUGH FOR THINKING OF IT AND TAKING THE TIME TO SEND IT TO ME?? You are incredible, thank you endlessly 😭💞💞💞

[mollywog]

Valancy, prowling about Deerwood shops, met Uncle Benjamin on the street; but he did not realise until he had gone two blocks further on that the girl in the scarlet-collared blanket coat, with cheeks reddened in the sharp April air and the fringe of black hair over laughing, slanted eyes, was Valancy. When he did realise it, Uncle Benjamin was indignant. What business had Valancy to look like—like—like a young girl? The way of the transgressor was hard. Had to be. Scriptural and proper. Yet Valancy’s path couldn’t be hard. She wouldn’t look like that if it were. There was something wrong. It was almost enough to make a man turn modernist.

Bahahhahaha

[hellwurld]

This is an open invitation to "talk about the Bible in a chill way". I'd be fascinated in your chill Bible opinions.

okay this is lowkey such a late answer to this but recent chill bible opinion has some context to it. i'm religious but in like a weird way i don't super want to get into, but basically i read the bible for the story aspects: the morals taught, the themes within, etc etc. i don't really view it as a strict religious instruction handbook, more so as like . stories meant to teach lessons and morals. kinda. its complicated!

erm. im so glad u asked tho

anyway! more importantly, i'm reading the old testament right now, and something that deeply bothers me is that i find the stories in early genesis deeply fascinating, and yet incredibly not dived into at all! and i think that's a shame, because there's so much interest and tragedy in the story of adam and eve, and in cain and abel, together and alongside adam and eve. i just think there could've been so much more done with the first ever family on earth, that is really never dived into popularly or well in adaptations. which is like chill EXCEPT for the fact that i think there's a lot of . persephone and hades tumblr bullshit going on and let me ELABORATE!

eve is a fascinating character to study as the first woman, and there's a lot to be said about eve, which is why a lot of modern looks at her that depict her as a #slay girlboss that ate the apple on purpose or as like . cheating on adam with lucifer . and i also don't fuck with the very long history of her being treated as though she's stupid or wicked or a transgressor. basically, what i'm trying to get at is that eve wasn't stupid for eating the apple, she was lied to, and in her defense, no one had ever lied before. quite literally she was the first to ever be lied to, ever, and she cannot be solely at fault for being tricked. i think it's hard to argue that eve shouldn't have fallen for it, because she was in such an incredibly unique, quite literally never happening before situation. i just think that depictions of her as a scheming seductress will never be as feminist as people think they are, because the core of eve was not someone looking to like . stick it to the man . she was curious, and trusting, and i refuse to blame her for searching for something new, because if god did not want man or woman to long for knowledge, he never should have create sapient beings 🤷

that was a long, kinda rambly way to say that i think genesis, despite being a really interesting book especially pertaining to eve, adam, and the fall, and especially relating to what could be said about abel and cain, and abel, cain, and THEIR PARENTS!!!, fails in a lot of ways as a book. mostly because of the lack of expansion on any of the interesting parts of the early story. i dont gaf abt how adam lived for 930 years. i gaf about adam and the horror of raising children and loving them and that still not being enough to save them from each other or themselves. it must have been horrifying to see your children, both your first children and the first children ever born, suffer and die, one at the hand of another and one at the hand of your own father. like idk eve adam and the horrifying fact that their sin (mistakes) passed along to their child and could've played a role in his own sin (devastating mistakes) and what you do as a parent when you realize that loving someone isn't enough to raise them perfectly and keep them safe.

but yeah sure . adams a weirdo misogynist and eve is a girlboss that cucks him with lucifer and abel and cain don't matter or exist. okay. epic.

and like this isn't to shit on fun or serious retellings based in feminism, bc i #love feminism fr, but i think it tired me out in the same way that (look at me circling back) things like the feminist retellings of hades and persephone did. bc like, it's interesting sometimes, but other times you are IGNORING the reality and interesting parts of the real story in favor for whatever fantasy you've created. hades and persephone is a fascinating story, and demeter and persephone's relationship is a tragic, lovely story that should not be boiled down into omg age gap forbidden romance with EVIL strict mom in the same way that eve and adam shouldnt be simplified to adam is mean to eve and she eats apple as REVENGE >:) . like ok guys lets get creative!

anyway to make a long story short im not an expert on the bible im just a girl raised spiritualist who fucks with books hardcore and wouldve liked to see more interesting shit in the oldest fucking book i own . or whatever .

[15ktherapy]

Watched a vid on the qsmp and despite my early mild drummyache bc of my dream stan ptsd it wasn’t too bad actually. So that’s yay. Anyway watched the video cuz I wanted to know why the thing got shutdown- which I didn’t even find out. And like. hmmmm reflection. I’m reflecting. God that situation sucked. anyway tommy was brought up which was interesting. Like. Over the whole loads of drama we’ve had it’s like. What do I think of all these. Idk. Transgressors- let’s say. Like most solidly the person I’m against is probably phil. Lmao. Petty old man. And karl I guess but he wasn’t brought up in the video. With q I got it- he’d ditched friends before, he’s businessing. Disappointing but I can see that was a Reason.Tommy I still think about sometimes. Like why the Fresh Hell Did He Do That. I dunno. Stumps me to this day. Maybe ut was phil. He pooiiisened his pooor little braaain. Or some crazy shit idk. Anyway dream stan land is hell rip to all our fallen soldiers how did it ever all come to this…. we might just live in the worst timeline for second gen mcyt the way the place has sucked so hard the last four years AND CONTINUES TO SUCK !!! like why are there so many people on high horses trying to shoot brownie points up like heroin. What is wrong with these people. What’s wrong with the greater community. JESUS.

[nwtdwy]

The old man swung his head back forth. The way of the transgressor is hard. God made this world, but he didn't make it to suit everybody, did he?

I don't believe he much had me in mind.

Aye, said the old man. But where does a man come by his notions. What world's he seen that he likes better?

I can think of better places and better ways.

Can ye make it be?

No.

No. It's a mystery. A man's at odds to know his mind because his mind is aught he has to know it with. He can know his heart, but he don't want to. Rightly so. Best not to look in there. It ain't the heart of a creature that is bound in the way God has set for it. You can find meanness in the least of creatures, but when God made man the devil was at his elbow. A creature that can do anything. Make a machine. And a machine to make the machine. And evil can run itself a thousand years, no need to tend it.

- Blood Meridian by Cormac McCarthy (again)

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

A Father's Discipline

1 A wise son heeds his father's instruction, but a scorner does not hear rebuke.

2 A man shall eat good from the fruit of his mouth, but the soul of the transgressor shall eat violence.

3 He who keeps his mouth keeps his life, but he who opens his lips wide shall have destruction.

4 The soul of the sluggard desires and has nothing, but the soul of the diligent shall be abundantly gratified.

5 The righteous hates lying, but the wicked one is loathsome and comes to shame.

6 Righteousness guards the one who is upright in the way, but wickedness overthrows the sinner.

7 There are those who pretend to be rich, yet have nothing; and those who pretend to be poor, yet have great riches.

8 The ransom of a man's life is his riches, but the poor does not hear rebuke.

9 The light of the righteous rejoices, but the lamp of the wicked shall be put out.

10 Only by pride comes contention, but with those who take advice is wisdom.

11 Wealth gotten by vanity shall be diminished, but he who gathers by labor shall increase.

12 Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but when desire is fulfilled it is a tree of life.

13 Whoever despises the Word shall be destroyed, but he who fears the commandment shall be rewarded.

14 The law of the wise is a fountain of life, to depart from the snares of death.

15 Good understanding gives favor, but the way of transgressors is hard.

16 Every prudent man deals with knowledge, but a fool lays open his folly.

17 A wicked messenger falls into mischief, but a faithful ambassador is health.

18 Poverty and shame shall be to him who refuses instruction, but he who regards correction shall be honored.

19 The desire fulfilled is sweet to the soul, but it is an abomination to fools to turn from evil.

20 He who walks with wise men shall be wise, but a companion of fools shall be destroyed.

21 Evil pursues sinners, but to the righteous good shall be repaid.

22 A good man leaves an inheritance to his children's children, and the wealth of the sinner is laid up for the righteous.

23 Much food is in the tillage of the poor, but there is that which is destroyed for lack of judgment.

24 He who spares his rod hates his son, but he who loves him is diligent to discipline him.

25 The righteous eats to the satisfying of his soul, but the belly of the wicked suffers want. — Proverbs 13 | A Faithful Version (AFV) Holy Bible, A Faithful Version © 2020 A Faithful Version. All Rights Reserved. Cross References: Exodus 9:20; Judges 19:30; 2 Chronicles 10:8; Ezra 9:12; Job 18:5; Psalm 18:5; Psalm 111:10; Psalm 119:1; Proverbs 1:31; Proverbs 6:6; Proverbs 9:7-8; Proverbs 12:11; Proverbs 12:23; Proverbs 14:24; Proverbs 21:6; Proverbs 23:13-14; Proverbs 25:13; Ecclesiastes 7:5; Isaiah 47:11; Luke 12:20-21; Luke 15:14; Colossians 3:9; James 3:2; Revelation 2:7

[monstersdownthepath]

Lord of the First: Barbatos, the Bearded Lord

CR 26

Lawful Evil Medium Outsider

Pathfinder Bestiary 6, pg. 18~19

Beginning End of the World Month IV: The Tyrants of the Nine is my favorite of all the Archdevils, not only known as the Bearded Lord, but such whimsical titles as the Iron Hierophant, the Mistletoe Monk, the Wiseman of the Wilds, and many more! ... though, if one recalls, Barbatos is not a Devil at all. and in fact completely lacks the Devil subtype! This mysterious doorman merely showed up to Hell’s gates one day with a whole planet’s worth of souls and asked Asmodeus for a job, a job he’s held in the millennia since with--if the Complete Book of the Damned is to be believed--absolutely no oversight aside from whatever curious spying the other nobles of Hell may do. Whether he’s some alien god of nature’s most deplorable aspects, a forgotten breed of fiend, a Qlippoth Lord shedding the grasp of the Abyss entirely (this one’s my bet, and a safe one at that), or even a Great Old One is not known, and his goals beyond his guarding of Avernus, the first layer of Hell, may not exist.

Whatever he is and whatever he wants, Asmodeus trusts him, though this isn’t to say his peers do. None have actually tried anything against him, mind, not just because doing so would mean whoever usurped him would have to take the menial and grueling task of overseeing all the souls entering Hell, but because it’s awfully, awfully hard to sneak anything past him. Speaking his true name even once is immediately damning, as his Hear Name works across all forms of barriers and distance. Speaking it three times in a single breath, even with a myriad of words between each utterance, informs him unfailingly of your true name and location, at which point he can either use Astral Projection or Greater Scrying to see who’s calling, or manifest his power in any nearby animal or image of himself, possessing it and speaking through it. What he does with his power largely depends on who foolishly (or willingly) spoke of him, but know that he can use his spell-likes through these effigies, including Maze, Quickened Contagion, Blasphemy, and Gate.

Oh yes. If you want to bother the Lord of Avernus when he’s busy, he can Gate right to you, either to send a devil to deal with you... or to deal with you himself.

If you’re even a threat to him after he bullies you from a distance, mind. Barbatos’ fancy walking stick, Eyjatas, comes equipped with the ability to use Arcane Eye at will without any form of distance restriction provided he can somehow see the destination. Even if he’s using his Greater Scrying or Hear Name projection to spy, he can cast his eye through the effect to whatever world or even plane his target may be on. Commonly, those who disappoint or insult the Bearded Lord are struck with waves of crippling sickness and nausea that radiate outwards to everyone in the area, because Eyjatas can also use Eyebite at will through its Arcane Eyes. To those without a means to detect the invisible intrusion it may feel like invoking Barbatos’ true name invites nothing but mysterious illness and pain, or even worse if he then utilizes his other spell-likes to further punish transgressors who’ve gotten his attention via Hear Name. Contagion is an especially nasty and subtle way to punish an entire civilization for insulting him (or even just wasting his time).

Remember, however, that he can only use Eyebite when spying via Arcane Eye, and can only use one spell-like if he’s inhabiting an animal or image after using Hear Name. Utilizing his magic snaps the tenuous connection... though, oddly, it doesn’t prevent him from creating a Sphere of Souls at the location and leaving it there, free for anyone to use. Able to maintain upwards to 13 of these polished black crystal balls and destroy them with nothing but a thought, these are Barbatos’ primary tools for seeing just what the world beyond his station is like, each one able to not only scry, but read the minds of any creature (and nearby creature) being scried upon.

But with the power to use Greater Scrying at will himself, what use does he have for such a tool? To keep track of whatever his lackeys and supplicants are doing. Barbatos can not only freely see through the Spheres of Souls whenever they’re being used, but can see whatever they’re being used to watch. These crystals are the ultimate tools of espionage in both directions, allowing Barbatos to spy on the user and their target at the same time... and freely alter whatever the user is seeing, manipulating the visions shown by the ball into whatever the Archdevil decides furthers his own alien machinations.

But that’s not even the end of the power these Spheres have! Barbatos gets an automatic 13 hour Status spell on any creatures the Spheres scry on to keep tabs on who his lackies have their eyes on. In addition, Barbatos can freely scry and read the minds of ANY creature within 10ft of a Sphere, without giving ANY of those creatures a saving throw. This assures his Spheres are used only in ways he approves, with false visions and misleading information pouring out of them if the user (or any of their nearby allies) don’t do exactly as the Mistletoe Monk desires. In especially egregious cases of disrespect, he can either seize control of the user as if using Dominate Person, or simply cause the Sphere to collapse into nothingness.

And, yes, if you’re wondering: The fact that the Spheres of Souls have a significant amount of magic in place to let Barbatos spy on and even take control of the users rather than those being observed means that he’s very, very keen on giving these little trinkets out as gifts to his enemies, either directly or by leaving them in a treasure hoard he expects them to come across. Once they have one, its power is likely hypnotic enough to have them keep it close by, giving Barbatos free reign to keep an eye on them. Is it any wonder why he’s so damn hard to sneak up on? Combat’s likely not even going to begin with him, as he’s already planned around your arrival. Even if it does, though, he’s no slouch.

Barbatos has a jaw-dropping eight attacks with his weapon of choice, the +4 Speed Unholy Quarterstaff and Major Artifact Eyjatas. Each attack deals only 1d6+19 damage (+2d6 vs Good targets), sub-par for a creature of such high level, but remember he can dole out eight of them, each of them threatening a potential critical hit on a 19 or 20. The least amount of damage Barbatos can do, provided each of his attacks hits, is 160, which is actually pretty decent. That’s typically enough to put even a level 20 Fighter halfway down, but Barbatos likely won’t waste his time trying to kill off the Fighter if more vulnerable targets are nearby. Rather, he’d wait for one of his attacks to be a critical hit to take advantage of Eyjatas’ hunger for eyes.

Eyjatas can pluck the eyes from the heads of any creature it successfully strikes in combat, blinding them and afflicting them with 2d6 bleed damage, but it can only use this power 3/day and it’s negated by a DC 30 Fortitude save... Unless the attack was a confirmed critical hit, which prevents the target from making a save against having their eyes torn out. Eight tries a round means he will get it eventually, but weirdly enough this isn’t his only method of stealing eyes: his tentacular Barbed Beard can also be used as a natural attack, inflicting 1d8+5 damage, 2d6 bleed damage, and infecting victims with an especially tenacious strain of Blinding Sickness that resists magical attempts to cure it unless the caster can overcome the Wiseman’s 37 Spell Resistance first.

Note that while he’s not the most physically imposing of the Archdevils, it’s likely that you’ll be fighting him at reduced party capacity. Between Maze 3/day to unavoidably shunt a target out of reality and Banishment to remove celestial assistance you’ve likely already lost two or three of the party, possibly for several minutes. And unfortunately for any fragile caster he’s just caught in a 1v1, escape is nigh impossible unless they can regularly succeed DC 35 Fortitude saves. Barbatos’ Counterport alerts him to any and all Calling, Summoning, and Teleportation effects happening within 30ft of him and allows him to either shut them off entirely, or choose to poof them at a point of his choice within that 30ft bubble. Any affected creature takes 10d6 damage as an extra kick in the teeth, but that big Fortitude save I mentioned halves the damage and allows the creature to come and go as they please.

Sadly, Counterport also allows Barbatos to reach through the portal, comically grab the caster by the scruff of their neck and pull them back. Failing a DC 35 Will save allows the Mistletoe Monk to undo any Calling, Summoning, and/or Teleportation effect whose origin point he manages to get to within one round, either sending someone on their way or dragging everyone who just tried to leave back into the fire, again dealing 10d6 damage to them.

Imagine struggling to escape Hell only to have all your efforts undone less than three seconds later. Imagine trying to get into Hell and being slapped straight back to your home plane with half the health you left with. These are moments Barbatos is causing every single day, sternly watching the comings and goings of the devils and the damned in their ‘care,’ keeping a trifecta of careful eyes on the procession to assure not a single one can ever escape.

He may be the weakest of the Archdevils, but his strengths lay not in martial or even magical might, but sheer, staggering foresight, knowledge, and wisdom. Between his endless spies, his information network created by his Spheres of Souls, and his own alien knowledge, there are few things happening on any plane that he isn’t at least dimly aware of... and preparing for.

You can read more about him here.

[eternal--returned]

Lost ye way in the dark, said the old man. He stirred the fire, standing slender tusks of bone up out of the ashes. The kid didn't answer. The old man swung his head back and forth. The way of the transgressor is hard. God made this world, but he didn't make it to suit everybody, did he? I don't believe he much had me in mind. Aye, said the old man. But where does a man come by his notions. What world's he seen that he liked better? I can think of better places and better ways. Can ye make it be? No. No. It's a mystery. A man's at odds to know his mind cause his mind is aught he has to know it with. He can know his heart, but he dont want to. Rightly so. Best not to look in there. It aint the heart of a creature that is bound in the way that God has set for it. You can find meanness in the least of creatures, but when God made man the devil was at his elbow. A creature that can do anything. Make a machine. And a machine to make the machine. And evil that can run itself a thousand years, no need to tend it.

Cormac McCarthy ֍ Blood Meridian (1985)

[nicklloydnow]

“Lost ye way in the dark, said the old man. He stirred the fire, standing slender tusks of bone up out of the ashes.

The kid didnt answer.

The old man swung his head back and forth. The way of the transgressor is hard. God made this world, but he didnt make it to suit everbody, did he?

I dont believe he much had me in mind.

Aye, said the old man. But where does a man come by his notions. What world's he seen that he liked better?

I can think of better places and better ways.

Can ye make it be?

No.

No. It's a mystery. A man's at odds to know his mind cause his mind is aught he has to know it with. He can know his heart, but he dont want to. Rightly so. Best not to look in there. It aint the heart of a creature that is bound in the way that God has set for it. You can find meanness in the least of creatures, but when God made man the devil was at his elbow. A creature that can do anything. Make a machine. And a machine to make the machine. And evil that can run itself a thousand years, no need to tend it. You believe that?

I dont know.

Believe that.”

[funkypoacher]

12. “I could make you feel better.”

and/or

15. “I know I should care about the reason why you’re naked in my bed, but I will just enjoy it for a moment.”

(Whichever ship moves you most <3)

I went with the first one, but I'll also be doing the second. Both these prompts were amazing, so thank you <333

warnings: knife play, children screwing around with sharp objects, John Seed needs. to. cut. something, Gray is missing her husband u.u and they both dumb

Forty-five nicks carved like claw marks, or a prisoner's time-served tally, and she felt she was both: a caged thing screwing up the walls with scratching, every mark a day, and by the end there'd be 2,555 notches in the bunker wall, enough that—well, enough that it'd just be decor at that point, eh? Part of the scenery? Cuz you carve something that much, and suddenly it's not simply damage, it's a new thing. Like a tree limb whittles to a wolf figurine, or a body becomes a corpse, the bunker would wear 2,555 markings in a way that the place had become something else.

A tomb. Probably it'd be a tomb.

Gray left her cot for John's room. Redundant notion, that: the whole fucking place was his. The moaning, mourning wind groaning through the bunker tunnels; the monotony, prayers, and mindlessness: all his. Anyways, John was there in his room—she hadn't expected it—and, hunched over his desk, back to her, hearing footsteps scraping the floor had him snapping around, demanding a snarled "what?" but Gray's brow simply piqued as his voice barked in the echo.

"Really?" she wondered.

Unimpressed by his 'tude, Gray traipsed lackadaisical to where the man stood breathing haggard, hair fallen forward into bloodshot eyes.

"What. Can I do. For you."

That's how John said it. Even. Patient. Strangled.

Gray smirked. "Seems like you're 'bout ready to pop, boss."

Turning back around, John leaned over his desk once more, gripping the edges, his chin lifted. Expression softened by wrangled, forced repose, there was something to be said about John Seed's highs and lows: like his sermons, they were damned predictable.

"If you came to get under my skin," he hissed, "this may not be the best time. You see, I've been thinking."

But then John began monologuing. And his voice, beloved to himself, became a balm.

His highs and his lows. Predictable.

"There are dozens of souls in this bunker," John said, peeling away from the desk and pacing. "All have been cleansed. All have confessed. They have all been absolved of their transgressions, and as of this moment there has never been a more worthy flock to enter the Gates of Eden." Turning on his pert heel, he faced her. "As of this moment," he repeated pointedly.

"We have years before that time comes," John continued, energetic agitation shifting his weight leg-to-leg. "Years where we might become sullied—where our souls might take on the burden of new sin, and what then? How can we expect God to accept us if we have not been properly purged? How will things be any better in the new world if we let the transgressors and the malfeasors and the rot stain the purity we have tried to achieve?"

"Do what you did before," Gray suggested, shrugging in the face of his heightening frenzy. "The baptisms. That stuff."

John huffed a soft laugh. Shaking his head, hands on his hips, he looked away, smiling sickly to himself. "Ah, but Joseph has said there is to be no more confessions. No more cleansing. Those who are here are clean. They are righteous." Laughing again, John looked at the ceiling. His twisted joy unfurled to hopeless sadness. "But seven years—seven years without… I mean, it's Joseph—he knows God's plan—God's plan is the will of the Father—but seven years, I…"

All mania, all feeling, fell away from his words. He stared up, waiting for the light.

"It's what I do. I cut out the sin." John's brow bent as he tried to understand. He repeated again, utterly at a loss, "seven years."

"Then hang what Joseph said."

John's head snapped towards her. His voice was as hard as a sinner's punishment stone.

"What?"

He walked over, then. There was a shift in his demeanor. He prowled. Coming near, John circled her, voice daring, and hopeful: daring her to blaspheme again; hopeful that he'd have to deal with it.

"Are you suggesting I disregard the will of the Father?"

"I'm suggesting this is your bunker and Joseph left it to you," Gray clarified.

Crossing her arms, she puffed up her chest, posturing to remind John that she was a formidable few inches taller than him.

It wasn't lost on John. He looked her up and down, and nodded for her to continue.

"If Joseph trusted you with this place, then he trusted you with running it how you need to, didn't he? That's why you've got the barrels of Bliss. Plus the chains in case people get big ideas." Gray squared her jaw, smiling inward. "But those things aren't just about control. In fact, they're actually the same thing as the confessions, really. They do the same thing."

"And that is?"

Gray smiled wide with her teeth. "Help them reach God, duh."

2,555 scratches on the wall. They wouldn't mark only the days spent in the bunker but her tortures. Weeks and months of being crowded by soft civilians so far from the soldiers she knew. The families here were interested in prayer, yet words didn't mean shit without strength to back them up. But Gray saw, here, suddenly, an opportunity to partner with John: to align their interests. He wanted their people righteous. She wanted them tough. And both could come from one, cleansing act: culling the herd.

2,555 markings needn't tally the days in which she languished. They could document the opportunities she took to prove herself. To him. He wasn't here—Jacob wasn't—but she… She was still his girl, and she could still…

Finally, John looked away. Their eyes, burning with equal fire, parted. Her words and the words of the Father had warred in John's mind long enough.

"Joseph wouldn't approve."

Gray bit her lip. She could see he was still wound tight enough to snap. All he needed was a good pluck. And Gray certainly had her needs.

Closing the distance between them, looking down into John's soft-featured face, her lips ghosted his as he watched with rapt engrossment. "I could make you feel better," she whispered.

His breath came in a wanting, hot little puff. And then he shoved her away.

"Whore," spat John, stumbling backwards, wiping at his mouth.

Gray laughed loudly.

"John-boy," she tutted, head shaking. Producing her pocket knife from her cargo pants, she flicked the blade up, looking from glinting steel to starving man. "I could make you feel better."

"What the fuck?" John glared at the knife assuming threat. Standing his ground as she walked over, his head twitched involuntarily, adrenaline no doubt newly searing through him, setting him up for a fight. That's how things were between them, after all—they didn't play nice.

Near enough to feel his breath once more, Gray let her own blood thrum through her. Heartbeat in her throat, legs and arms edged by burning, they needed give—her body needed all that it had fed on these last years: the pain, the dirt, the blood and the pure life of being part of Jacob's army. It was hard to let go of those things which had become like breathing or blinking: instinctual; automatic.

She needed this. She needed to feel anything.

"If there's one soul in this bunker that requires… house-cleaning, it's gotta be mine, right?"

Caging John's gaze in hers, Gray, leaning in, said, "so let's start there."

He wanted to. Good God how he did. His whole body lurched as he fought the urge to take the knife, maybe strangle her, possibly both, but either way it'd be something. John's eyes were as dead as they always were, yet behind the roiling calm she could make out desperation that came from everywhere.

His lips were pale. Parted. His tongue flexed between his teeth.

Gray took John's hand and pressed the knife hilt into it.

His grip flexed around the handle.

"Good boy," Gray said.

Taking a step back, she offered her palm. "Just a little bit."

John's eyes slit as the fury of his want abated in the face of reality. "That isn't how this works," he informed, voice gone sing-song.

"No, but I don't think either of us is ready for a full confession, right?" Gray cupped her offered hand to herself. "I mean, you've still got evening prayers to lead, and all that shit."

"'All that shit'?"

John smirked, tapping the blade's flat against his palm absently. He tossed his hips into a little, comfortable walk-about; it was amazing how just a smidge of authority giddied his mood. He had the knife; he wasn't thinking about Joseph, and he definitely wasn't worried about Jacob, now. Nope, he had something sharp and something to carve, and it put a spring in his step, and a song in his heart.

"You know, we've already discovered pride to be your greatest sin." John pointed the knife at her playfully. "But perhaps sloth is a close second."

Gray met his predatory stare with her own. "Aw, that'll be fun. We'll be samesies."

John snorted despite himself. Then he held out his hand.

Gray gave him her right one.

"Just a little, John-boy," Gray warned. "Just the tip."

As the blade cut shallow, letting a two-inch line of skin part and offer up its blooming red, John gasped. Holding her wrist, staring, his distraction gave Gray the opportunity to snatch back the knife, should the man insist on pushing his play-time.

The pain was… soft. Itchy. It was the first time she'd seen her own fresh blood in a month and a half. It was something like coming home, and hard to say who was more transfixed: John, who thought his violent inclinations were a blameless gift from God and it made him a good man, or Gray, who, clenching her fist, forcing more blood to flow, thought of Jacob, her husband.

Taking her hand from John's grip, Gray was as happy as him. "Next time you can go deeper," she smiled across his ear, giggling.

"Next time," John cautioned against hers, "you confess."