#this last night in sodom

[daisy-nixon]

My throat is really irritated this morning. Is it allergies, or did I huff too many poppers last night?

[eccentricallygothic]

|| Days Of Sodom ||

Pairing: Dark!Joel Miller | Naive!You. 

Description: A patrol run with Joel leads you down an unwelcome memory lane.

Idea: Here.

Warning(s): Dubcon/Noncon, stockholm syndrome, unprotected p-in-v, pinching, choking, dark!Joel Miller, power imbalance, house wife!kink, somnophilia, allusions to drugging, infantilization of reader, possible misogyny, age gap (reader is in their 20’s, Joel is in his 50’s).

Disclaimer: I (sadly) do not own Joel Miller. This is a dark and mature fic so browse at your own discretion, please. Minors do not interact. 

Note: I am a fan of the videogames so this leans more towards them because some scenes are better in them -in my humble opinion- but I'll try to be as inclusive as possible. Also, minor S2 spoilers maybe idk I am not through with the show yet. I appreciate feedback <3

SERIES MASTERLIST

I

"Mmm…" Your eyes are still heavy with sleep as your face presses into the soft pillow that your fingers tightly curl around to withstand the pleasure that is already blooming between your hips. "Joel~" you shudder out sensously, feeling the man grunt huskily behind you, his hairy chest pressing into your back, as he snails his morning wood in and out of your drenched and clenching pussy, scruffy face almost disappearing in the crook of your neck to nibble at the skin.

Your folds feel puffy and worked up; as if they have been toyed with already. "Hmmm…" Joel gently fucks you sideways and his throaty hum only makes you clamp down harder around his girth and sack.

"Oh!" You struggle to open your droopy eyes -a dull part of your brain faintly wonders if you owe this state to the healthy drink you had been offered last night- but you feel just so good against him; warm and full of ecstasy tightly locked in the arms of your owner, that you let the feeling take over and push the silly -as Joel calls them- thoughts away. The delicate skin of your back tickles just a little because of the coarse hair on his chest and he creeps one hand under your soft nightgown to fondle the first breast that he can grab.

"Fuck, baby" the soft sound of his ballsack patting against the sticky skin of your ass feels loud in the otherwise quiet room when he speeds his thrusts up just a little, further twisting your leg that he has tangled around his own away from your body to grant himself wider access to you. "You were drippin' so bad I just had to go for it" his accent elicits a blood curdling moan out of you and you have to throw your head back before rolling your hips against his to deal with the a strong tumult of pleasure that his deep morning voice sparks up within you along with his body melting touch. 

“Joel!” You sensitively whine poutily as your eyelids droop once more. 

“Stop poutin’ before I give you somethin' to pout about” the warning only makes your swollen clit tighten harder around him, making the feel of his erect cock veins even more prominent against your velvet walls.

If someone were to tell you, an ambitious girl belonging to a well off San Francisco family, two decades ago that you would wound up as the little thing of a Texas building contractor who was in his mid 50s, you would have laughed at them. 

But here you are now. 

Clenching, whining and cumming hard around your captor's– no wait, lover's cock while thanking him with your broken voice before you turn your head on autopilot and let him kiss you good morning. The man gives you it even though he is not done with you just yet. His nose is flared and his breaths are heavy, his rough and scarred fingers flex across your throat as he squeezes the air out of it while his hips snap harder against yours to fuck out his orgasm. The kiss is tender compared to his treatment of your body. It makes you clench around him and as a result milk him when he comes with a guttural curse. You let out a shaky sigh as you let your body -that you didn't realize was tense until now- collapse. You push your head into the pillow and sleepily savor the concluding thrusts. 

There is a harsh pinch on one of your nipples when he has stopped and you whine before you place your hand atop his before you turn to look at him with confused eyes. What is wrong? 

“What had you whining and pouting like an ungrateful little thing just now?” His eyes are dark and his jaw is firmly set. You feel guilty. Does he not care for you enough? Does he not do so much for you everyday? Did he not save you?

You lower your gaze and drop your hand from where it cups his. “I am sorry, Joel” you whimper and wince from the grip he has on you. “I- It won't happen again, promise.” You mentally kick yourself. He is right. You don't realize it enough. You are ungrateful. 

Joel's pinch on your nipple softens but he continues to watch your face in silence for a few moments. You nervously chew on your bottom lip and peek up at him through your lashes after a bit, hoping you look sorry enough.

“Better not” you suppress your sigh of relief because it would most definitely further irritate him. He didn't like you acting like a scared little doe unless he was in one of those moods. He usually preferred you as his happy and thankful doll. “Now come here and let me taste that sweet mouth” your cheeks flush and you eagerly smile before leaning in obediently. Joel's hand abandons your nipple to cup your face. 

He is not so bad… if you follow his rules without question.

It is just the world humanity has to live in now. 

The protector or the protected. 

These are the only two vocations that keep you alive.

And you had realized yours a long time ago.

You have seen enough fucked up people before Joel brought you to Jackson with him to know that if some other man had taken you for himself all those months ago, you would most definitely not be giggling against his chest with a yawn and eyes that have glued shut once more whilst he washes you both for the day under the shower. 

"Hmm~" you pout and nearly doze off a couple times while waiting for him to dress you up. "I am starving~" you hear him chuckle from a couple feet away from you -probably by the small wardrobe of your humble quarters- as laces his boots up. 

"Wouldn't have to for very long if ya weren't such a baby" your pout intensifies and the man can't help but snort again as he carries your outfit to you now. 

You have no idea how Joel manages to find you the cute housewife-esque dresses, night gowns and accessories that he gets you whenever he goes out on a scavenge run, but they make you feel pretty and fresh in this bleak world and so you do what he likes best from you; be grateful and content instead of complaining. 

The rest of breakfast time passes with you sitting beside Joel in the food joint with one of your cheeks resting on his shoulders lazily as you keep yawning every few minutes. You manage to finally open your eyes for real this time without dozing off when Joel holds out his coffee cup to your nose and lets you savor the aroma before he makes you take a small sip. And then only a few more. Because he says too much coffee is not good for your fragile little body. 

He is not wrong.

The amount he allows works for you just fine.

Your numbed out senses -with special thanks to your exercise from this morning and probably the drink from last night- only perk up when Maria -Joel's sister in law- calls for him and he has to go to a corner to listen to her but then the conversation that started out in hushes and whispers suddenly becomes heated when something Maria says ends up agitating your lover. 

Your eyebrows furrow at the commotion that Joel is causing but you know better than to go over and inquire because that would be speaking out of turn and not minding your little girl business. So you resort to nervously offering Tommy a wave when he enters and briefly glances at you before stepping in between his brother and wife. The man has to nearly yell over Joel to get him to simmer down. You whimper from the sudden shift in the previously comfortable environment and chew on your bottom lip while waiting for the tension to subside.

Your unspoken query soon gets answered on its own when a very pissed off Joel trudges to you with clenched fists and growls out a, "Let's get." But today, unlike the other days, his words mean you are going to be assisting him on one of his patrols instead of helping out within the settlement. 

As you perch yourself on a pretty red horse behind him and wrap your arms around his waist before turning your head sideways to rest it between his shoulder blades, you try to recall the last time you had to 'volunteer' for something like this. The more you try and remember your time as patrol, the more you understand Joel's irritation. You have not done much of this. Not enough to take on a two person run. Even before coming here, you were never among the frontliners. 

And then to further add to Joel's ire, today turns out to be one of those days. 

You end up running into a hostile group who tries to attack you with the intention of infiltrating your dwelling right after Joel has no choice but to wipe out a couple stray infected because a tree had collapsed in the middle of the usual route. You sigh and shake your head at the challengers.  

Fools. 

They don't stand a chance. Joel is too good. Nobody knows that better than you. 

Wait… what?

Huh…?

Anyways.

Joel hides you and the horse in one of the many abandoned houses in a block before he razes through the idiots like the device of destruction that he is. 

You are petting the horse in the garage when the only accessible door to the house is yanked open and the sound makes you jump a little. You go to check but the pained groans of two men make you freeze in your tracks. It is only when you hear Joel tell one of them to shut up that you tiptoe to the garage entrance and peek out to see what it's all about without daring to enter the room. It is not the business of little girls and you will be sure to get in trouble if you try to make it so.

And today, you are just not in the mood for punishment.

Joel drags in two injured men wrapped up in barbed wire. Your face twists in discomfort at the sight of their mangled forms and you can't help but softly wince when he sits one of them up against a wall and drags the other one to a chair that is placed in the middle of the living room facing the wall opposite to the man's companion. There is another chair in front of it and the sight causes a twitch deep in your mind. You quietly groan and feel your knees becoming heavy. Leaning your body against the doorframe, you focus and push the thoughts away because they are definitely the silly ones that Joel does not appreciate. They always occur in this order and make you act out in ungrateful ways.

And you are his good girl.

"Now" Joel speaks once he has hauled the man up on the chair and taken a seat in the one facing it, his hoarse bringing you out of your head. "Listen here, let's focus" the man shrieks in pain when your lover presses down on something– you gasp to yourself and nearly become one with the wall as your fingers tighten around the doorframe. A knife is sticking out of one of the man's knees! And Joel has a cruel hand placed on it as he uses his other one to slap the man to bring him to a state of coherence. "Here's, what's gonna happen" as your captor– no, no! You shake your head furiously. As your lover pulls a map out of his jacket, you feel a head splitting surge of memories that you cannot suppress this time around rush through your mind. You cannot help but grip your head, your increasing body weight forcing you down on your knees. 

Though your vision falters and ears experience a mild vertigo, you can make out the way Joel's lips move through a furious blinking of your eyes. The action causes an arrangement of words spoken in his voice to play in your head and you feel as though a vacuum is sucking your body backwards until you are jerked into a void with a bone crushing jolt. 

"Now you are gonna mark it on the map, and it better be the same exact spot your buddy points to" the scene unfolding in front of you disappears before you hear a click -like the clicking in of a tape- and then a train of events begin to play before you in a warm sepia. 

[nofatclips-home]

The Ultimate Film Studies Watchlist:

Pre-1920s 4:52 The Films of the Edison Labs 6:05 The Films of Louis and Auguste Lumiére 6:57 The Big Swallow (1901) 7:56 Le Voyage Dans La Lune (1902) 9:04 The Great Train Robbery (1903) 10:07 Fantasmagorie (1908) 10:56 Suspense (1913) 11:41 The Birth of a Nation (1915) 13:48 Intolerance (1916) 14:56 J'accuse (1919)

The 1920s 15:52 The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1920) 16:46 The Phantom Carriage (1921) 17:29 Haxan (1922) 18:07 Sherlock Jr. (1924) 18:51 Greed (1924) 19:33 The Last Laugh (1924) 20:25 Battleship Potemkin (1925) 22:25 A Page of Madness (1926) 23:10 Metropolis (1927) 23:51 Napoleon (1927) 25:02 Sunrise: A Song of Two Humans (1927) 25:43 The Passion of Joan of Arc (1928) 26:57 Un Chien Andalou (1929) 27:22 Man with a Movie Camera (1929)

The 1930s 28:50 M (1931) 29:35 Freaks (1932) 30:24 The Testament of Dr. Mabuse (1933) 30:54 Duck Soup (1933) 32:04 L'Atalante (1934) 33:01 Modern Times (1936) 33:36 Snow White and the Seven Dwarves (1937) 35:45 Stagecoach (1939) 36:26 The Rules of the Game (1939) 37:48 Gone with the Wind (1939)

The 1940s 39:18 The Great Dictator (1940) 39:59 Fantasia (1941) 41:20 Citizen Kane (1941) 43:15 To Be or Not To Be (1942) 44:56 Meshes of the Afternoon (1943) 45:49 Casablanca (1943) 46:56 Double Indemnity (1944) 48:18 Ivan the Terrible (1944) 48:51 Beauty and the Beast (1946) 49:50 Paisan (1946) 50:39 Brief Encounter (1946) 51:25 The Bicycle Thieves (1948) 52:43 Children of the Beehive (1948) 53:15 The Red Shoes (1948) 54:17 The Third Man (1949)

The 1950s 55:35 Sunset Blvd. (1950) 56:28 Los Olvidados (1950) 57:26 Rashomon (1951) 58:42 Singin' in the Rain (1952) 59:34 Tokyo Story (1953) 1:00:59 Ugetsu (1954) 1:01:35 Rear Window (1954) 1:02:42 The Night of the Hunter (1955) 1:03:42 Ordet (1955) 1:04:17 Pather Panchali (1955) 1:04:57 Seven Samurai (1956) 1:06:25 The Searchers (1956) 1:07:25 A Man Escaped (1957) 1:08:27 The Cranes are Flying (1957) 1:09:08 Touch of Evil (1957) 1:09:51 Vertigo (1958) 1:11:22 The 400 Blows (1959)

The 1960s 1:12:53 Psycho (1960) 1:13:42 L'Avventura (1961) 1:14:39 Lawrence of Arabia (1962) 1:15:35 La Jetee (1962) 1:16:10 Vivre Sa Vie (1963) 1:17:17 8 1/2 (1963) 1:18:04 It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World (1963) 1:18:50 The Umbrellas of Cherbourg (1964) 1:19:26 Woman in the Dunes (1965) 1:20:01 Persona (1966) 1:21:08 The Battle of Algiers (1966) 1:21:52 Andrei Rublev (1966) 1:22:42 Playtime (1967) 1:23:18 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968) 1:24:28 Kes (1969) 1:25:23 Once Upon a Time in the West (1969) 1:26:25 The Color of Pomegranates (1969) 1:27:07 Army of Shadows (1969)

The 1970s 1:28:25 The Conformist (1970) 1:28:53 A Touch of Zen (1971) 1:29:37 The Godfather Part I & II (1972-1974) 1:30:37 Pink Flamingos (1972) 1:31:45 The Spirit of the Beehive (1973) 1:32:39 The Exorcist (1973) 1:33:08 La Maman et la Putain (1973) 1:34:22 Badlands (1973) 1:34:53 The Conversation (1974) 1:35:32 A Woman Under the Influence (1975) 1:36:45 Jeanne Dielman 23 Quai du Commerce 1080 Bruxelle (1975) 1:37:52 Salo or the 120 Days of Sodom (1975) 1:39:05 Nashville (1975) 1:39:40 Jaws (1975) 1:40:47 Barry Lyndon (1975) 1:41:17 Taxi Driver (1976) 1:42:28 Eraserhead (1977) 1:43:37 Stars Wars (1977) 1:44:41 House (1977) 1:45:09 Alien (1979) 1:46:22 Apocalypse Now (1979) 1:47:32 Stalker (1979)

The 1980s 1:48:43 Raging Bull (1980) 1:49:33 The Shining (1980) 1:50:27 Pixote (1980) 1:51:10 Koyaanisqatsi (1982) 1:52:08 Videodrome (1983) 1:52:32 Ran (1985) 1:53:27 Come and See (1985) 1:54:23 Tenshi no Tamago (1985) 1:55:23 A Short Film About Killing (1988) 1:56:20 A City of Sadness (1989) 1:57:24 The Cook, The Thief, His Wife and Her Lover (1989) 1:58:31 Tetsuo: The Iron Man (1989) 1:59:42 Do the Right Thing (1989)

The 1990s 2:00:54 Goodfellas (1990) 2:01:48 Close-Up (1990) 2:02:49 A Brighter Summer Day (1991) 2:03:51 Man Bites Dog (1992) 2:04:42 Hardboiled (1992) 2:05:43 Satantango (1994) 2:07:12 Pulp Fiction (1994) 2:08:28 Clerks (1994) 2:09:34 The Lion King (1994) 2:10:21 La Haine (1995) 2:11:25 Cure (1997) 2:12:00 Festen (1998) 2:12:54 Beau Travail (1998) 2:13:27 Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samurai (1999) 2:14:22 The Matrix (1999) 2:15:10 American Movie (1999)

[ceaseless-exhauster]

I was scrolling way back on my own blog to look for an old specific post, and I could see the progression of my unending joy and fervor for Judaism morph into fear and anger and defensiveness as things have gotten worse and harder, and, crucially, as I have become a more solidified and educated member of the community. This makes me deeply sad, so I’m going to fight it actively.

All that to say: Torah study last night was delightful. It was a small group this week, just four of us, but not only did we laugh much and do a lot of Hebrew decoding exploration (which is my 🎶faaaaaavoriiiiite🎵), but we ended up talking at great length about the relationship between HaShem and Moses.

We did this in the context of HaShem getting super into wrath and retribution, as they are wont to do, and Moses’s reaction is to basically say “okay, but like, if you kill your own people, everyone else is gonna think you’re a loser who couldn’t defend this people you promised to protect.” And it WORKS!!

So we were talking about how interesting it is that not only is Moses of course the only prophet in the Torah to whom G-d appears in person, but how much more of an equal footing they appear to be on, more of a partnership than anything else. Look at Avraham when he bargained for Sodom and Gomorrah: “yes HaShem you are great and powerful but I also believe you are merciful please let me search for one righteous person there.” Yaakov literally wrestled an angel. Joseph received dreams and had very earthly concerns about them.

Meanwhile, we have Moses - this man who, despite being raised as a prince of Egypt, is by all accounts a pretty terrible social leader whose little brother has to do most of the logistical stuff. And yet, he perhaps has the deepest relationship with HaShem. He has the kind of relationship where G-d can appear right in the Tent for the sole purpose of looking Moses in the eye to proclaim “I am deeply hurt and angry!!” and Moses has the standing to say “I understand that, but you have a bad plan about it.” Isn’t that wild??

I’m glad this week was Sh’lach L’cha, there was so much in there to talk about and explore and it did so much to remind me of the simple fact that I LOVE Judaism!!! I’m gonna do my best to continue to embrace that more often even in the face of everything. I hope everyone is having a restful Shabbos 💙

[oncasette]

the lads as sleep token lyrics

this is just something i've been thinking of for a while (a byproduct of making playlists for characters i fear) so enjoy :)

AQUA REGIA

Well, my love is an animal call Cutting through the darkness, bouncing off the walls Between teeth on a broken jaw Following a blood trail, frothing at the maw

Between the pain and the way you look I'm stuck in a time where the mountains shook

EUCLID

If my fate is a bad collision And if my mind is an open highway Give me the twilight two-way vision Give me one last ride on a sunset skylane

Just running forwards, a life like wires As I see the past on an empty ceiling I play along with the life signs anyway But hope to God you don't know this feeling Yet in reverse you are all my symmetry A parallel I would lay my life on So if your wings won't find you heaven I will bring it down like an ancient bygone

No, by now The night belongs to you This bough has broken through I must be someone new

IS IT REALLY YOU?

Deal with the pain Your own way How could they deal with the pain? I knew It was mine too

Let's search the skies for a while You and I

GIVE

If you wanna give Then give me all that you can give All your darkest impulses

I will be watching for your enemies To let them know that they contend with me

In this open warfare I won't fight fair

LOOK TO WINDWARD

Even in this garden of gardens, I am the god of the gaps I am the demon of Sodom, I am the blood of an angel The fate of the fallen, nobody knows where I came from

Oh, and I I used to know myself Oh, and you You used to know me well Oh, and I Wish that I could leave myself alone Oh, and you You wish that you could make me whole

JERICHO

You taste like new flesh Say my name again

DRAG ME UNDER

And I know The Gods will Abandon the heavens just to find us To merely Behold you As we lie down together

EUCLID

For me It's still the autumn leaves These ancient canopies That we used to lay beneath

No, by now The night belongs to you This bough has broken through I must be someone new

We tangle endlessly Like lovers entwined I know for the last time You will not be mine So give me the night, the night, the night

DANGEROUS

You've got me talking in my sleep As if you're conquering my dreams You have awakened what's beneath again

And I am caught in time Like clockwork beneath the permafrost I might lose my mind Back to back with oblivion And you might breathe that burning breeze through Paradise for me

THE APPARITION

Why are you never real? Whenever you appear You leave me with that grace I am trembling with fear But I know that you will disappear Just as I awake

Why are you never real? The shifting states you follow me through Unrevealed Just let me go or take me with you

THE APPARITION

Somewhere in the past Something was between You and I, my dear And it remains With me to this day No matter what I do This scar will never fade

I make the most of the turning tide It just split what's left of the burning silence Don't wait, 'cause this could be the last time You turn up in the reveries of my mind

THE LOVE YOU WANT

But I'm still full of the love you want Still waking up beneath it all And I'm still full of the love you want I reach for you on faith alone

THE OFFERING

This is a given, an offering In your favour, a sacrifice in your name But I know you've got a taste So just take a bite of me

EUCLID

Do you remember me When the rain gathers? And do you still believe That nothing else matters?

TELOMERES

Rivers and oceans We could beckon, no Your eyes and your limbs Are instruments to pick apart The distance within

Let the tides carry you back to me The past, the future Through death My arms are open

We go beyond the farthest reaches Where the light bends and wraps beneath us And I know as you collapse into me This is the start of something new

RAIN

For so long, I have waited So long that I almost became Just a stoic statue, fit for nobody And I don't wanna get in your way But I finally think I can say That the vicious cycle was over The moment you smiled at me

Nobody can say for certain If maybe it's all just a game When I open my eyes to the future I can hear you say my name

IS IT REALLY YOU?

Collide like two stars for a while You and I

RAIN

And just like the rain You cast the dust into nothing And wash out the salt from my hands So touch me again I feel my shadow dissolving Will you cleanse me with pleasure?

And I know, I know the way that it goes You get what you give, you reap what you sow And I can see you in my fate And I know, I know I am what I am The mouth of the wolf, the eyes of the lamb

CHOKEHOLD

I come as a blade A sacred guardian So you keep me sharp and test my worth in blood

Beneath the stormy seas Above the mountain peaks It's all the same to me It makes no difference I've seen my days unfold Done the impossible I'd turn my walls to gold To bring you home again

So show me that which I cannot see Even if it hurts me Even if I can't sleep Oh, and though we act out of our holy duty to be constantly awake

LOOK TO WINDWARD

With the shadows longer to me than a lightyear Moving so slow, I could die here Say you can let me say Will you halt this eclipse in me?

Now I know why I woke up here on the shoreline Coughing up blood in the twilight Everything looks thе same

Am I walking with gods or merely stumbling forth Until there's fire at the gates, until I fall to the floor? You know I live by the feather and die by the sword And I will sunder the earth only to burn the reward

Even in this garden of gardens, I am the god of the gaps I am the demon of Sodom, I am the blood of an angel The fate of the fallen, nobody knows where I came from Even I have forgotten How could I already lose my way like this? Drowning in burning bright abyss Even at stratospheric depths This vertigo of bliss

INFINITE BATHS

That even if I am frozen Timeless as a ghost in my Nightmares of the ocean The precipice I'm approaching Well, you will empty the darkness You will keep me in motion I know now

I'm so tired inside I could sleep through a landslide But I'm finally here And I'm not leaving this time

TAKE ME BACK TO EDEN

I need you to see me for what I have become

I guess it goes to show, does it not? That we've no idea what we've got Until we lose it And no amount of love will keep it around If we don't choose it

And I don't know what's got its teeth in me But I'm about to bite back in anger No amount of self-sought fury Will bring back the glory of innocence

When we were made It was no accident You know my desire We were tangled up like branches in a flood

PROVIDER

I want to delineate That the last time we were around Each other I felt myself hesitatin' But I know I would not now, my lover

And your fingers foxtrot on my skin I'm going under this time I can give you what you want

And our bodies converse like old friends Exchanging the years in silence With something unsaid on both ends Surely we know the difference

VORE

Will we remain stuck in the throat of gods? Will the pain stop if we go deeper?

So let's get swallowed whole I wanna go where nobody else will Ever go

There is always something in the way I wanna have you to myself for once Follow me between the jaws of fate So I can have you to myself for once

TAKE AIM

Call, won't you call out my name Like a curse on this world? Like a battle cry?

Oh, and you make me hate myself Make me tear my body Make me yearn for your embrace

So take aim At me for once Just take aim Break me apart, love

Oh, won't you? And you know I'll be yours When the moment is perfect I will fire and forget 'til we both lay broken And you know I'll be yours Just want to be worth it I will run like the wind 'til you follow me again

INFINITE BATHS

Infinite baths Washing over me at last Are you the method in my madness? Are you the glory in my wrath? Infinite baths Bursting colours when you laugh Well, I have fought so long to be here I am never going back

EMERGENCE

You might be the one to take away the pain and let my mind go quiet And nothing else is quite the same as how I feel when I'm at your side

[ingravinoveritas]

I am entirely floored at the discourse that's been happening on social media (mainly Twitter) since Michael confirmed that his first crush was on John Taylor, to where I actually saw someone describe Michael as a "non-practicing bisexual."

Not only does this go right back to what I wrote last year about how in the past it was only okay for men to be gay/bisexual on TV and in film as long as they never acted on it, but I am nearly 100% certain that if Michael had said his first crush was a girl, no one would think he hadn't thought about kissing or having sex with them. In one fell swoop, this manages to disregard every other comment Michael has made about finding men sexually attractive, not to mention him going to the Scala Cinema in Kings Cross in the '80s--a place known for having late night gay orgies and nicknamed the 'Sodom Odeon'--and coming up with an entire head canon for Aziraphale and Crowley revolving around that.

Also, Michael Sheen has not spent the last five years making it extremely clear--both on and off screen--that he would fuck David seven ways from Sunday (and probably already has) just to have his sexuality erased by calling him a "non-practicing bisexual"...

[astroyongie]

spamming senpai until i see an a-z nsfw for geto

(doing it so I don't get canceled by you)

A To Z Analysis: NSFW

Geto

A = Aftercare

Gojo is actual good with aftercare even if it doesn't seem like it. he is the type to be practical and have everything prepared beforehand. He is also the type to talk with his partner and make sure they enjoyed it

B = Body part 

On himself he likes his feet. don't ask why, he just believes he has very good feet

on his partner he loves their hair, their skin so he can touch and pamper. loves the curve of their back which makes him quite touchy as well

C = Cum 

He isn't very messy with cum but he squirts out a lot. So it's quite liquid compared to some who can have a more thick consistency

D = Dirty secret 

He might have a thing or want to see his partner being fucked by someone else while he simply watches. Extra points if he knows the other person so it can add to his angst

E = Experience

Geto haș very little experience. he has enough to know how to deal with a partner, but he still has much to learn.

F = Favorite position 

Your legs/feet over his shoulder is a position he loves, but also holding you from the side for more slow and lazy smash. Missionaries when he is feeling more on the romantic side

G = Goofy

Geto isn't really goofy during the intimacy, that because there's a lot going on inside his head. He is mostly focused on his pleasure and his partners

H = Hair

He can be a little messy. he is groomed but he doesn't like to be bare or have too much little hair. Same for his partner, although he doesn't care how they present themselves, he prefers when they have hair so it feels more mature to him

I = Intimacy 

Yes, Geto needs a lot of intimacy during smash, he needs the romanic aspects and he needs to be in love with the person to be able to have sex

J = Jack off 

He can be paradoxical. there will be weeks where he is doing it every night to sleep tight, and there's weeks where he will forget to do it. it also depends if he has a partner or not

K = Kink 

Geto's kinks are vast and usually they bring something primal on him. It's anything that gets tangled in between kinky, taboo, hurt yet still with passion and love. From sado-maso play, to blood and prey play to recreating traumas to have possession of the moment

L = Location

Bedroom exclusively. he doesn't mind to bring it to the office, to the working space or even the couch. but he prefers the couch.

M = Motivation 

Geto îs particularly hard to get in the mood. He gets turned on by random things and something it just clicks on him. but some kisses and teasing can get him going when done in the right moment

N = No 

He would say no to anything including food, poop, sodomization and anything that would put him and his partner in an uncomfortable environment

O = Oral

He is a huge fan of oral. Although he prefers to receive and to geto, a blowjob can count like one session. He also doesn't mind to go down on his partner but he might like the practice with his mouth

P = Pace 

He is a slow and sensual pacer, he doesn't like to get too rough with his thrusts, he believes it doesnt make him feel his partner fluster around him

Q = Quickie 

He isn't a fan of quickies and if he can avoid them he would. although if you really are in a mood, he will use his fingers on you to get you satisfied

R = Risk 

Geto will have the game to experiment and he will take risks after a conversation with his partner to make sure no boundaries are crossed. he wouldn't take risks randomly

S = Stamina

He has a good stamina actually. He might finish a little too quickly but he has the ability to take a few breaks to make it last a little more in between

T = Toys 

it's an half and half. it would depend on what type of toys you want to bring on the bedroom and what the utility of it. he is more okay to use them on himself tho

U = Unfair 

He can be a huge tease if he is in the mood of a more dom play. but is teasing can be painful, to the point where he will deny any type of release

V = Volume 

He is rather quiet during smash, based on the chart, he is the type to make low grunts and growls. He rarely moans out loud, as he find sounds from him to be embarrassing

W = Wild card

He would allow you to carve your name on his body permanently during a smash session and he would exhibit it proudly

X = X-ray 

Geto is large and girthy. it's curved upwards and it’s somewhere in between rough and clean looking.

Y = Yearning 

His sex drive is mid, it really depends on his mood

Z = Zzz

After sex he doesn't want to sleep. he wants to pillow talk, to hug, to cuddle. sleep with you in his arms afterwards

[theshiniestgemstone]

Hi lovely! Hope your drive all went smoothly and you’re at your new place safe and sound!

I was wondering if you’d be willing to write some more on popstar!reader? Maybe Gideon takes everyone to one of her concerts?

thank you for checking in!! Drive went well. I only lost my splash guard and my sanity at about 1:30 in the morning after 15 hours of driving but I made it safe and sound to my job :)

I would LOOOVEEE to write more popstar!reader, so here goes with their first concert.

"Does that shirt say 'cumslut'?" Jesse asked, watching a girl walk by.

Gideon spotted her. She couldn't have been older than 19. "Yeah."

"What kind of music does your little girl do, again?" The elder of the two asked, spotting another young set of friends wearing revealing outfits, arms linked as they giggled in the line for concessions.

"Pop music. Keep up," Gideon replied, grabbing his mother's hand to push through the line for beer.

The three had spent most of the day backstage, listening to soundchecks and watching you filter in and out of the room. You had even walked in with a binder. After Amber flipped through it, she went back to a page, examining it with a careful eye and then nodded. Two weeks ago, you had celebrated your two year anniversary and the six month anniversary of meeting his family, all of them, at Galilee Gulch. Your profession came up in conversation, and your song about how good Gideon was to you came up on the radio. Gideon blushed as you explained the song to Jesse. Then, Judy had the bright idea to see you perform. Live.

It weighed on Gideon, knowing just how intense your shows could be, the flashing lights, screaming fans, the occasional person holding up a poster with a lyric that made his ears burn. But he’d rather sit through all of it, through wardrobe changes and raunchy bridges about his hands, than miss the way you looked on stage. He loved watching you in your element, commanding a crowd that hung onto every word you sang.

Even if Jesse was going to run his mouth the whole time.

The three of them finally pushed through the last knot of people and ducked beneath the velvet rope marking the reserved section high above the general crowd. The view was pristine—direct line of sight to the stage, elevated just enough to avoid the crush but still close enough to feel the bass in your chest.

“Look who finally decided to come back,” Judy announced, her voice already a little too loud from the two vodka sodas she'd double-fisted before the opener even finished. She was perched with her knees tucked up in a seat, boots off, and a hot pink feather boa wrapped around her shoulders like she was the one performing tonight.

BJ gave a timid wave from beside her, a concession tray balanced on his lap with two pretzels and a glowing blue cocktail that didn’t look FDA-approved.

“Y’all see the girl with the caution tape dress?” Kelvin asked, leaning over the row in front of him as Gideon dropped into his seat. “Had, like, devil horns on. Devil horns. At a concert. What kinda message is that?”

Keefe, seated next to him and holding a water bottle like it was holy, offered a small shrug. “Might be her way of reclaiming symbolism. Empowerment through provocation.”

Baby Billy grunted from the end of the row. “What it is, is nasty. We’re gonna be lucky if the Lord don’t smite this whole venue before the night’s over.”

“You agreed to come,” Tiffany reminded him sweetly, rubbing her baby bump with one hand and sipping soda through a straw with the other. “Ain’t nobody forced you. I told you this was gon’ be one of them sexy concerts.”

“I thought y’all meant, like, Beyoncé sexy,” he muttered. “Not Sodom and Gomorrah sexy.”

Eli, sitting in the middle of the row with his hands folded over his cane, was the only one who hadn’t spoken. He watched the stage in calm silence, brow furrowed like he was still undecided if this counted as family support or public penance.

Gideon sat forward slightly in his chair, hands clasped between his knees as the lights dimmed and a chorus of screams erupted around the arena. His breath caught in his throat for a second—out of nerves, out of pride, out of sheer awe as the screen flared to life with your name in bold, glittering letters.

Then the curtain dropped, and there you were.

All at once, the stage lit up in pinks and golds, smoke curling around your ankles as you strode to the mic stand in a fitted bodysuit that shimmered with every step. Your dancers fell in behind you like clockwork, but Gideon barely noticed them. You looked out at the crowd like you owned every single one of them.

“Hot damn,” Jesse muttered, his tone shifting from judgment to appreciation in a breath. “She’s really doin’ it, huh?”

“She always does,” Gideon replied under his breath, eyes never leaving you.

You opened with one of your early hits, the one he still had memorized from when you made him listen to the first rough demo over a Bluetooth speaker in your kitchen. Even now, through the polished version, he could vividly see the way you blushed and avoided eye contact when he first listened, afraid to hear his thoughts after it was over. The crowd went wild, screaming every lyric like scripture, and somewhere in the middle of the second verse, you caught sight of the roped-off section. Your eyes found Gideon’s, and your smile widened, just enough for him to see it was for him.

Amber reached across him to pat his knee, her hand lingering longer than usual. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to.

The lights dimmed again, this time into a soft, moody gold. The beat faded, dancers slipped offstage, and you crossed to the piano at the center, heels clicking against the polished floor. A hush fell over the stadium as the massive screen behind you shifted from animated graphics to a still shot of a night sky—simple, serene, a quiet backdrop to what came next.

You adjusted the mic, settled on the bench, and let your fingers hover over the keys before glancing up with a gentle smile.

“I have some special, special people in the crowd tonight,” you said, voice low, threaded with warmth. The crowd responded with whoops and cheers, and you laughed softly, nodding in thanks. “I always feel lucky to do this, but tonight… I feel a little extra grateful.”

High up in the reserved section, the entire Gemstone row shifted. A few pairs of eyes turned toward Gideon.

“Oh shit,” Judy whispered, smacking BJ in the arm. “She’s talkin’ about us.”

“She better be,” BJ murmured, nervously checking to see if anyone was looking at him.

Eli looked over at Gideon with a raised brow. Gideon didn’t move. His eyes were locked on you, his throat suddenly dry.

You continued. “Two years ago, I met someone who changed the way I saw the world. I wasn’t looking for anything serious. I was just trying to keep my head above water, chasing something I didn’t really understand yet.” You paused. “But then I met him. And he was soft-spoken and thoughtful and real in a way I didn’t know I needed.”

A flicker of movement caught your eye. Even in the high seats, even in dim light, you could see him, sitting stiffly, hands clasped and eyes wide. You smiled again, smaller this time, more private. Just for him.

“And six months ago,” you went on, “he brought me home. And I met the rest of him. His wild, sweet, chaotic family. And I realized if I wanted to be with him, I had to love all of it. Every part. Even the faces they made during my song about how big his- well you get the point."

The crowd roared. Cheers, laughter, some scattered whistles. A few people in the front row clapped like they were at a comedy show. Your smile widened, pleased, but your eyes went right back to that roped-off section above the chaos.

Where the faces in question were reacting exactly as you'd expected.

Jesse’s jaw dropped. “She did not just say that.”

“She did,” Amber groaned, covering her face with both hands, half laughing and half trying to sink into her seat. “Oh my God.”

BJ turned a deep shade of pink. “Is it about that song? The one with the high note in the bridge?”

Judy was cackling. “I knew it! I knew that song was about hisstroke game. I said it the first time I heard it in the car, and y’all were like, ‘Nooo, Judy, you’re bein’ gross,’ and now look!"

Kelvin choked on his soda. Keefe didn’t say a word. He was clapping softly, smiling like he’d just witnessed a sermon. Even Eli cracked a smirk. It was subtle and brief, but unmistakable. He shook his head as if to say Lord, help us, but his eyes never left the stage.

And at the center of it all, Gideon sat utterly frozen. A hand ran over his mouth. His ears were red, his cheeks were redder, and his expression was locked somewhere between horror and pride. When he finally looked up and caught your gaze again, you winked. He dropped his head into his hands and laughed.

Down below, the lights shifted again, and the intro to your next song floated up through the stadium like a breeze through silk. You leaned into the mic one last time, voice low and teasing. “This one’s for anyone who’s ever been loved exactly how they needed… and a little more than they expected.”

The crowd screamed again, and the slow, sensual beat kicked in.

Back in the box, Judy was fanning herself with a snack menu. Baby Billy grumbled something about the decline of moral decency. Jesse reached over to smack Gideon’s shoulder, laughing so hard he nearly fell out of his seat. He just sat there, glowing red, shaking his head with a crooked smile, thinking, God, I love that woman.

[rock-and-roll-hell]

July 25, 1980

Unmasked Tour

Palladium - New York City, NY

Eric Carr’s live debut with KIϟϟ wearing the first version of his “Fox” makeup. While heavily featuring the 1979 and 1980 studio albums, it is somewhat strange to consider that the set included three covers: “2,000 Man,” originally recorded by the Rolling Stones; “New York Groove,” originally recorded by Hello; and “King of the Night Time World,” originally performed by the Hollywood Stars (though never commercially released). “Is That You?” while not written by the band had also not been commercially released by the writer or other artists. The only United States “Unmasked” era concert and contemporary performance of material from that album. This show marked the live debut of three songs from “Unmasked” including “Is That You?,” “Talk To Me,” and “You’re All That I Want.”The Palladium was the renamed Academy of Music, where KIϟϟ had made their industry debut in December 1973. KIϟϟ spun their appearance at a smaller venue: “It was a night of nostalgia for Ace, Paul and Gene. And a dream come true for Eric Carr. KIϟϟ planned a special performance at the Palladium in New York to introduce Eric to its staunchest home town fans. There was very little publicity. The one-night-only show was mostly a word of mouth affair. Although small for KIϟϟ today, the hall was chosen for sentimental reasons. Most of the fans, as well as the band, were remembering the historic night KIϟϟ played its first important New York performance on that very stage… the show was a resounding success”.

From local press: “KIϟϟ performed at the Palladium on Friday night, which was unusual; the group usually plays venues the size of Madison Square Garden. Slipping popularity may account for the Palladium date to some extent, but KIϟϟ could certainly have filled the theater several nights running and chose not to do so. The show’s primary purpose seems to have been the introduction of Eric Carr, the new drummer, to the band’s hard-core fans. A few diehards yelled for the departed Peter Criss, but not for long. This listener kept trying to remember what Mr. Criss used to sound like, but the effort proved fruitless. Before long, he became accustomed to Mr. Carr, who played a somewhat elaborate drum kit and was sometimes a little floppy but kicked the music along nicely. The band had installed its flashy stage set and resorted to a number of its tried and true visual gimmicks, but with the scale of the event reduced, one tended to focus more on the music. It wasn’t bad. It was heavy-handed, macho to an almost comical degree, rife with bombast and excess, everything one expects heavy metal to be, but the playing was tight – much tighter than the last time the reviewer heard KIϟϟ, at the Garden – and most of the songs weren’t padded with unnecessary solo noodling. Whether KIϟϟ fans will take to Mr. Carr remains to be seen; one would think they’d be satisfied with Gene Simmons’s tongue-wagging and fire-breathing and Ace Frehley’s flaming guitar. In any event, and for what it’s worth, Mr. Carr’s addition to the band seems to have been a positive step, though it isn’t likely to make KIϟϟ’ music ‘genuinely important to life’” (New York Times, 7/27/80).

Another: “Carr proved to be a capable drummer but no Peter Criss. The show wasn’t quite the visual extravaganza I’d anticipated, nor was it the Sodom and Gomorrah meets 'The Night of the Living Dead’ I’d feared. Instead, it seemed like the 'Wizard of Oz’ gone awry” (Aquarian).

From a mainstream review: “It was apparent from the appearance and playing of Carr that KIϟϟ one of the most successful rock acts of all times, was not taking any chances with the music or the formula now that original drummer Peter Criss has departed for a solo career… So it was almost the typical KIϟϟ show. But with the new drummer now more in the background, the focus was more on the front three… And although performing on a smaller stage than usual, the show was basically the same” (Billboard, 8/9/80).

From a regional review: “KIϟϟ concerts are a little like Christmas. The anticipation is half the fun, and everyone was up for this one… KIϟϟ crashed through their 20-song set with the delicacy of a chain gang” (London, CT, The Day, 8/1/80).

[rockasjade]

last night you made a bet with your friends. So today you invite them all, and tie me on all fours to a strange device. My pussy and ass are completely spread and exposed. You explain the game to me, smiling in anticipation. If i cannot hold my pee for more than 30minutes, you will fuck my ass dry. There is multiple bottles of water on a table. You take one, pinch my nose, and force me to drink it. I try to fight but i can’t breath. I gulp it all, under the cheers of your friends. You immediately take an other. I drink it. You go check my belly, already a bit distended. You push on it, making me try to avoid the pressure. But my rest is not long. I have to drink two others bottle in a minute, despite my pleading. The fear in my voice is hiding an other feeling. My inflated bladder is pressing hard on my clit, begging to be touched. You notice it fast : « guys, the whore is so already so wet ! too bad it will not be useful ». You rub my engorged clit, and bury two fingers in my slippery pussy, to touch my bladder from inside. I moan in despair and pleasure, as all the guys begin to stroke their hard dicks. You give me another liter, and i try to squeeze my pussy to hold my pee. But it’s already over : you brush my belly with your hand, spread my labia and reach for a deep point in my vagina. In an instant, your fingers are covered in hot piss, as your friends congratulate you. I don’t hear them, so relieved, not thinking about what is waiting me. « 14min bitch, relax that tight asshole » Incan hear your belt, and soon your tip on my butthole « please, i beg you, use some lube, you are gonna tear me apart ! » « that’s the point, toy » I scream as you burry your dick in my ass, stretching it beyond reasonable. You start to pound me, piss runs on my thighs and tears on my cheeks. Your dick is so huge it hurts. My rectum remains tight, pleasuring you much more. Your friends begin to align in front of me to make me suck their penis ready to cum. I suffocate on three or four, soon drooling with their cum. You sodomize me a long time, despite my pleas. But my wet pussy stays untouched, and i am so desperate that i cum from your anal assault. You finish in my ass, and when you’re gone, i can feel the sperm leaking from my gaping hole on my pussy.

[naxalbari1967]

If This Is What They Do on Camera, Imagine What Happens in the Dark

The police in the United States routinely murder, brutalize, and humiliate civilians in broad daylight while being recorded. These acts are not isolated. They are frequent. They are systemic. They are the visible portion of a much larger structure. They are committed with the full knowledge that there may be phones watching. Officers slam unarmed teenagers to the pavement and strangle men who beg for their lives. They pepper spray children and elderly people. They kneel on necks until bodies go limp. They fire rubber bullets at people’s eyes and shoot tear gas canisters directly at heads. And they do all of it while wearing body cameras that they often mute or cover without consequence. If this is what they do when watched, what happens in places without cameras? If this is how police behave on American streets, in front of hundreds of people, how does the United States military behave in countries where it controls the electricity, the media, and the lives of millions?

In Vietnam, the United States military did not simply fight soldiers. It raped civilians, burned villages, and dropped chemical weapons on farmland. The most well-known example is the My Lai massacre. On March 16, 1968, a group of American soldiers from Charlie Company entered the Vietnamese hamlet of My Lai and murdered between 347 and 504 unarmed civilians. Women were gang raped. Children were mutilated. Elders were executed. Babies were shot in the head. Pregnant women were stabbed with bayonets. Soldiers threw bodies into ditches. The massacre lasted for four hours. It only ended because one American helicopter pilot, Hugh Thompson Jr, landed his chopper between the soldiers and the remaining civilians, ordering his door gunners to shoot any American soldier who continued the slaughter. The military tried to cover up the incident. Only one officer, Lieutenant William Calley, was convicted. He served three and a half years under house arrest. That is how the system works. It absorbs atrocity and punishes only the leakiest perpetrators.

In Iraq, torture was not the exception. It was policy. At Abu Ghraib prison, detainees were stripped naked, beaten, stacked on top of one another, and forced to masturbate in front of cameras. Guards placed hoods on their heads, attached wires to their genitals, and threatened to electrocute them. Men were raped with chemical lights. Women were forced to parade naked while being videotaped. Prisoners were sodomized with broomsticks and guns. Dogs were unleashed to maul shackled men. The soldiers took photos. They posed smiling. They made thumbs-up gestures beside piles of human bodies. When the story broke, the military claimed these were bad apples. They were not. These methods were authorized by military intelligence. They were designed at Guantanamo. They were taught at the School of the Americas. They were approved in legal memos from the White House and the Justice Department. This was not a breakdown of discipline. This was doctrine.

In Afghanistan, entire villages were destroyed without warning. Airstrikes wiped out wedding parties. Drones fired missiles at children carrying water buckets. Night raids involved American soldiers breaking into homes, zip-tying men and boys, shooting anyone who resisted, and sometimes disappearing suspects into black sites where they were never heard from again. The most infamous example was the 2010 video released by WikiLeaks, titled Collateral Murder. It showed a US Apache helicopter gunning down civilians in Baghdad, including two Reuters journalists. When a van arrived to rescue the wounded, the helicopter opened fire again. Children inside the van were injured. The pilots laughed. They said “Nice” and “Look at those dead bastards.” The video was classified until Chelsea Manning leaked it. She was imprisoned for revealing war crimes. The killers were never punished.

In Latin America, the United States trained and funded death squads. In El Salvador, the Atlacatl Battalion, trained at Fort Bragg, massacred 800 civilians in the village of El Mozote in 1981. They raped girls, burned people alive, and decapitated infants. In Guatemala, the United States supported the regime of Efraín Ríos Montt, who launched a scorched-earth campaign against indigenous Mayans. Villages were burned, women were raped, children were thrown into wells, entire communities were erased. In Nicaragua, the US-backed Contras murdered peasants, bombed schools, and executed nurses. The CIA taught them how to use terror as a tactic. They gave them manuals on psychological warfare. In Chile, the United States helped orchestrate a coup that replaced a democratically elected government with the dictatorship of Augusto Pinochet. Thousands were tortured in stadiums. Women had rats placed inside their vaginas. Men had their testicles electrocuted. Bodies were dumped in the sea. Washington knew and approved.

In Africa, the United States propped up Mobutu Sese Seko in Congo, a man who looted his country and tortured dissidents. In Somalia, American helicopters fired on fleeing crowds during the Battle of Mogadishu. In Libya, the United States bombed the country into chaos, assassinated Muammar Gaddafi by proxy, and left behind a failed state where open-air slave markets returned. In the Sahel, drone bases operate in secret. Villages are bombed and classified as “terrorist hideouts” after the fact. In the Horn of Africa, secret CIA black sites exist inside Djibouti. Torture is carried out with the cooperation of local governments.

The pattern is simple. When the US military intervenes, atrocities follow. The public is told the military is protecting freedom. In reality, it protects empire. It trains torturers. It funds paramilitaries. It bombs hospitals and wedding tents. It kidnaps and rapes. It disappears people into basements where they are beaten, waterboarded, and left to rot. It arms regimes that use child soldiers. It sells weapons to dictators who behead dissidents. It kills journalists and labels them terrorists. And when its soldiers get caught, the punishment is mild or nonexistent. The person who leaks the crimes is treated more harshly than the person who commits them.

At home, the police kill people in traffic stops and lie on their reports. They murder people who reach for their wallets. They break into the wrong homes and shoot sleeping women. They shoot people in the back and plant tasers on their bodies. They kick handcuffed men in the face. They torture suspects in interrogation rooms. In Chicago, the police ran a black site at Homan Square where suspects were held without charge and beaten. In New York, the NYPD carried out stop-and-frisk on hundreds of thousands of Black and Latino men, many of them teens. In Los Angeles, police gangs operate out of precincts, trading tattoos for kills. These cops are trained in militarized tactics. They receive surplus equipment from the Pentagon. They call neighborhoods “war zones.” They treat the people they patrol as insurgents.

If this is what American state violence looks like in front of cameras, on bodycams, on Facebook Live, in front of courts, in cities with news coverage and legal teams, imagine what it looks like in places without lawyers. Without phones. Without electricity. In deserts. In jungles. In prisons. In interrogation rooms. In the backs of helicopters. In the cells of cargo ships. In secret bunkers. In remote provinces where foreign troops speak no local language and answer to no one. The full scale of what the American military has done will never be known because many of its victims have no names in any official database. Their bones lie in mass graves. Their faces exist only in the memories of grieving families. And their killers wear medals. They are celebrated. They are called heroes. The empire survives on this mythology.

There is no good soldier in a criminal war. There is no clean cop in a dirty system. These institutions are not broken. They are functioning exactly as intended. To protect capital. To suppress the poor. To discipline the world. And to do it all while telling everyone they are free.

[itsadragonaesthetic]

Stuff that is actually in the Bible, from Interesting to Batshit Crazy (roughly)

I've only read through most of Genesis in great detail I might reblog and add to this later cuz I'm a weird Bible nerd but not in a bad way.

God creates light before he creates the suns cycle of day and night. There's no telling how long the first days were.

Adam is the one who names Eve a Woman. It's not until they're kicked out of the garden that Eve is given her actual name.

There is a river in Eden that is fed by four different rivers; Pison from Havilah, the Land of Gold, Gihon from Ethiopia. Hiddekel from the east of Assyria, and the Euphrates.

After eating the fruit of knowledge, God says to Adam "from dust you are made and to dust you shall return" and I think that's rad as hell.

Humans are created, and then later given physical form. They had some other non-physical existence on days 6 and 7.

There are other humans besides Adam, Eve, and their children on Earth, as Cain makes mention to the other people when he is banished into the wilderness.

God promised that the flooding would last 40 days and nights, but he LITERALLY FORGETS and the flooding doesn't stop for 150 days.

God kicks Adam and Eve out of the garden and assigns a cherub to guard the Tree of Life because he is afraid of humans eating of its fruit and living forever. It's not exactly stated to be a punishment.

God doesn't destroy Sodom and Gomorrah because of homosexuality. The fact that a group of men came to rape two supposedly male angels was not about their sexuality. It was bad because they wanted to rape them. God was destroying the cities because the people there were assholes. The angels were only there to warn Lot and his family before they started. That's literally it.

God feels affection for humans when Noah and his family make an altar after the flood. This prompts him to make the rainbow, which is a symbol of the covenant God has made with creation to never obliterate life as he did. It's less of a promise to humanity, and more of a reminder to himself.

The entire scene where God appears as 3 men under oak trees to Abraham and his wife and they have a feast together. Sarah laughs at God's promise that she will bear children and he's literally like "am I not powerful enough to do this? Why are you laughing?"

God has fucking character development. He is frequently displayed as cold, vengeful, and wrathful. There are many humans who tell God that he is loving and gracious and should have mercy on the wicked, and spare the few good things in this world whenever possible. Humanity is what softens God's heart.

[talonabraxas]

The Holy Grail

The Holy Grail shines in the deep night of all the ages. During the Crusades, the Medieval knights searched fruitlessly for the Holy Grail in the Holy Land, but they never found it.

When the prophet Abraham returned from war against the kings of Sodom and Gomorra, it is said that he encountered Melchizedek, the Genie of the Earth. Certainly, this great Being dwelled in a fortress situated exactly in the place where, much later, Jerusalem, the city beloved by the Prophets was built.

Centuries of legend have it that Abraham celebrated the Gnostic Unction with the sharing of bread and wine in the presence of Melchizedek. This is known to both divine and humans alike.

It would be worthwhile to say that at that time Abraham surrendered tithes and his first fruits to Melchizedek, as is written in the book of the law.

Abraham received the Holy Grail from the hands of Melchizedek. Much later in time, this goblet ended up in the temple of Jerusalem.

There is no doubt that the Queen of Sheba served as a mediator at this event. She appeared before King Solomon with the Holy Grail, and only after subjecting him to rigorous tests did she deliver unto him so precious a jewel.

The great Kabir Jesus drank from that goblet in the holy ceremony of the Last Supper, just as is written in the Four Gospels.

Joseph of Arimathaea filled the chalice with blood which flowed from the wounds of the Adored One on Mount Calvary.

When the Roman police searched the abode of this Senator, they did not find this precious jewel.

Not only did the Roman Senator hide this precious jewel in the ground, but he also kept with it the spear of Longinus with which the Roman centurion had pierced the side of the Lord.

Joseph of Arimathaea was incarcerated in a dreadful prison for not wanting to hand over the Holy Grail.

When said Senator was let out of jail, he went to Rome, taking the Holy Grail with him.

Arriving in Rome, Joseph of Arimathaea encountered the persecution of Christians by Nero, and he left by the shores of the Mediterranean.

One night while sleeping, an Angel appeared to him and said, “This chalice holds great power because within it can be found the blood of the Redeemer of the World.” Joseph of Arimathaea, obeying the Angel’s orders, buried the chalice in a temple located in Montserrat, in Cataluña, Spain.

With time, this chalice has become invisible, together with the temple and part of the mountain.

The Holy Grail is the vessel of Hermes, the cup of Solomon, the precious urn of all the temples of mysteries.

The Holy Grail was never missing from the Altar-stone of the Alliance, in the form of a cup or goblet within which was placed the manna from the desert.

The Holy Grail emphatically allegorizes the female yoni. Within this holy cup is the nectar of immortality, the Soma of the mystics, the supreme drink of the Holy Gods.

The Red Christ drinks from the Holy Grail at the supreme hour of Christification, so it is written in the Gospel of the Lord.

Never is the Holy Grail missing from the altar of the temple. Obviously, a priest must drink the wine of light from the sacred cup.

It would be absurd to imagine a temple of mysteries within which the blessed cup of all ages is missing.

This brings to mind Guinevere, the Queen of Jinn Knights, who poured wine into the delicious cups of SUFRA and MANTI for Lancelot.

Immortal Gods nourish themselves with the drink contained within the sacred cup; those who hate the blessed cup blaspheme against the Holy Spirit.

The Superman must nourish himself with the nectar of immortality, which is contained in the divine chalice of the temple.

Transmutation of the creative energy is fundamental when one wishes to drink from the sacred vessel.

The Red Christ, always revolutionary, always rebellious, always heroic, always triumphant, raises a toast to the Gods when drinking from the golden chalice.

Raise your cup aloft and take care not to spill even a drop of the precious wine.

Remember that our motto is Thelema (willpower).

From within the depths of the chalice (the symbolic figure of the female sexual organ) flames spring forth which blaze on the glowing face of the real human being.

Ineffable Gods of all the galaxies always drink of the nectar of immortality in the eternal chalice.

In time, the chill of the Moon brings about devolution. It is necessary to drink from the sacred wine of light in the Holy Vessel of Alchemy.

The purple of the sacred kings, the royal crown and flaming gold are only for the Red Christ.

The Lord of Lightning and Thunder grasps the Holy Grail in his right hand and drinks the wine of gold to nourish himself.

In fact, those who spill the vessel of Hermes during chemical copulation become sub-human creatures of the underworld.

Everything that has been written here can be found fully documented in my book entitled The Perfect Matrimony. --Samael Aun Weor

[transgenderer]

Nazi exploitation (also Nazisploitation) is a subgenre of exploitation film and sexploitation film that involves Nazis committing sex crimes, often as camp or prison overseers during World War II. Most follow the women in prison formula, only relocated to a concentration camp, extermination camp, or Nazi brothel, and with an added emphasis on sadism, gore, and degradation. The most infamous and influential title (which set the standards of the genre) is a Canadian production, Ilsa, She Wolf of the SS (1974). Its surprise success and that of Salon Kitty and The Night Porter led European filmmakers, mostly in Italy, to produce similar films, with just over a dozen being released over the next few years. Globally exported to both cinema and VHS, the films were critically attacked and heavily censored, and the sub-genre all but vanished by the end of the seventies.

In Italy, these films are known as part of the "il sadiconazista" cycle, which were inspired by such art-house films as Pier Paolo Pasolini's Salò, or the 120 Days of Sodom (1975), and Tinto Brass's Salon Kitty (1976).[1] Prominent directors of the genre include Paolo Solvay (La Bestia in Calore, also known as The Beast in Heat and SS Hell Camp), Cesare Canevari (Last Orgy of the Third Reich, also known as L'ultima orgia del III Reich, Gestapo's Last Orgy and Caligula Reincarnated as Hitler), and Alain Payet (Train spécial pour SS, also known as Special Train for Hitler and Helltrain), all from 1977.

[utilitycaster]

Perhaps it’s because I’m religious (Jewish to be specific) but I really vibed with the perspective of The Lawbearer and the Covenant that they have with mortals.

Specifically, bc I find the pushback on the deity superiority and the “there are things you cannot undersand” complex as so interesting. Bcfrom my perspective yes the gods are more powerful and eternal than mortals. Yes they know more and understand more - far beyond comprehension.

Isn’t that why you enter into the covenant in the first place? It’s not an insult it’s a reality. That entity - that God IS more powerful than you as a mortal and is capable of more than you.

And this is maybe where the Judaism comes in - but like - there’s no guarantee that a covenant will be easy or pain free. Or that others will not hate you for your covenant. Or that there won’t be times where you want to break it because God(s) have done something you don’t agree with, asks too much of you, or you’re being persecuted.

And I guess the question I’ve been circling around - esp for the Society of Primes - is what is the point in serving or saving Gods you want to weaken?

Hi anon!

I am also Jewish and practicing, and have...experimented feels like the wrong word, but certainly changed, grappled with, and otherwise tried to figure out what that practice looks like and what I specifically believe in, which would be a long and rather personal discussion but suffice it to say both the background and the fact that I have questioned what I specifically do (and the fact that it is a background that is like hey questioning is great and you should do that) informs a my interpretations of deities in other works.

It's funny because I completely agree that the idea that you should both strive to understand the divine and that also it is, by its nature, beyond human comprehension. I also, coming from the Jewish tradition, think that the idea of negotiating with an entity far beyond your power or comprehension is on the table. On some level I think the discussion on last night's 4SD of how Nick approached the Dawnfather (rather more like the triple goddess than, in my opinion, the Trinity, if we're referencing religious mythology; I think it's interesting how people skewed to the latter) evokes, for example, Sodom and Gomorrah; you can put forth an argument! Indeed, Abraham does! People talk back to God a lot in the Torah. I don't think gods are beyond questioning for their actions, and there are fictional works where I think the gods shouldn't live. But getting back to your point, I think in those works it does come down to a covenant that seems broken that makes me go "yeah, gotta go."

I promise I am not making this up but I've been writing this during a summer thunderstorm - and I have an easterly-facing window through which I see a lot of rainbows, and there was one this time, which naturally made me think of the blessing on rainbows, which is one that focuses on God as, essentially, one who remembers covenants and keeps promises, and is reliable; it is very much like the vision of Erathis. It is, on some level, an exchange - not an equal one, but still an agreement, and one both are expected to keep.

The thing with Cassida is, and this is where I need to at least attempt to set aside my own religious biases, that's not the deity she was praying to. I would be interested to know more of the Society of Primes but I don't think they necessarily wanted to weaken the Prime Deities - I think they did believe fully in the power of the Primes and felt they were saving people by killing the Betrayers, and frankly that's not unreasonable to believe, given what we know. But at least for Cassida I do think it's really relevant that she was a follower of a goddess of mercy and healing, someone who from whom one would expect lenience and forgiveness, more so than reliability. It's also relevant that this is a polytheistic society and Judaism is monotheistic, so, for example, the idea of God as embodying mercy and destructive forces and agriculture and nature and beauty is not something that Exandrians would necessarily ascribe to. I think the revelation that the gods are both much more complex than expected but not infinite and specifically fallible (vs. the irl monotheistic view that does generally treat God as eternal and infinite) is something one has to keep in mind in understanding how Exandrians engage with the divine, and especially in Cassida's disillusionment.