#looking at YOU origen

[proxima-writes]

i can see you (miguel o'hara's version)

pairing: professor/mentor!miguel o’hara x graduate assistant!female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 4.5k

summary:

As Dr. Miguel O’Hara’s graduate teaching and research assistant, you’ve spent years pushing down the inappropriate thoughts you’ve had about the brilliant, gorgeous man.

But what happens when a late night at the lab and a scientific breakthrough leads to a breakthrough of a different kind?

author's note:

my first (but probably not my last) miguel o'hara fic based on taylor swift's song "i can see you" from speak now tv. if you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging or commenting and letting me know your thoughts!

content warnings/tags:

explicit sexual content (18+ MDNI), explicit language, no use of y/n, alternate universe - no powers, age gap (undefined), presence of power dynamics (teacher/student), author took scientific liberties (forgive her, its been 10 years since bio II lab), pineapple on pizza, potentially bad spanish translations, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving), miguel picking reader up, unprotected p in v, size kink, choking, pet names, praise kink, competency kink, dirty talk. let me know if i've missed anything!

Translations you may need:

Universidad Estatal de Nueva York - State University of New York

Sí - Yes

Dios mío - My god

El Origen de la Genética Mutante - The Origen of Mutant Genetics

Mierda - Shit

Te lo prometo - I promise you

Lo juro por Dios - I swear to god

Arañita - little spider

Cállate - be quiet

Mirame - look at me

te sientes tan bien - you feel so good

Perfecto - perfect

________

You’re sitting in the front row, in the seat you’ve claimed as your spot, watching Dr. O’Hara pace in front of the projector screen that displays today’s lesson notes. 

“And what is the hallmark of this mutant gene that demonstrates its incompatibility for transmutation?” He asks the silent room of undergraduates that have found themselves on the roster for his Mutation Genomics III course at Universidad Estatal de Nueva York. 

A few hands go up around the room and Dr. O’Hara points to a student in the back who says, “Uh, it’s got a spiked protein arrangement that can’t be modified?”

“Is that a question or an answer?” Dr. O’Hara asks. There’s a sprinkle of laughter in the room and a smirk tilts his lips briefly. 

“An answer,” the student says more confidently. Dr. O’Hara nods.

“Correct, but that’s not the whole picture,” he says. His eyes catch yours and he gestures for you to join him. Your eyes go wide as you stand and walk to his side at the front of the class. “I’m sure some of you that actually use your available resources to pass my class recognize my teaching assistant. And if you don’t, I recommend visiting her office hours during this section because this is her area of research.”

Your cheeks feel warm as everyone’s attention falls to you. Dr. O’Hara hands you the data pad and steps back, giving you an encouraging nod. You tap the screen, bringing the diagram up on the holo projector and making it larger.

“You’re correct that the spiked protein arrangement can’t be modified, but there’s something more limiting in this particular model. If you look at it from this angle—,” you spin the DNA diagram, “you’ll see something else hindering the modification process. What do you see?”

Hands go up. Dr. O’Hara points to another student who says, “There’s a gap jump. The spike protein would continue to travel across the gap jump and avoid any inserts.”

“Exactly. So, what’s the potential alternative?” 

“Fill the gap. Target the spike protein in your modification cycle,” Dr. O’Hara finishes. “That’s all for today. Your exam next Wednesday will include this presentation, so don’t act surprised when you see the questions.”

A few students stop to speak with Dr. O’Hara as you gather your bag from your desk. His low voice calls your name, the timbre of it sending a shiver down your spine as you step up to his desk.

“You’re running a sequence right now, sí?” He asks, shuffling a stack of papers into order. 

“Yes, it should finish around seven tonight. Sorry, I know that it's late for a Friday,” you reply. He waves a hand dismissively.

“I’ll see you in the lab.” His brown eyes flick to yours and your stomach swoops, heart skipping a beat, same as it always does when he looks at you. 

Dr. Miguel O’Hara makes you nervous. Not only because he’s one of the most notable researchers in the field of mutant genomics, but also because he’s so handsome he leaves you breathless. He’s tall, towering over most men you’ve met, with broad shoulders and a tapered waist that are always covered by a suit and tie in the classroom or a lab coat in the research lab. His tan skin is complemented by dark hair and brown eyes that make you lose your train of thought when you stare into them for too long.

Which…is exactly what you’re doing now.

You clear your throat, stepping back from his desk. Had you been leaning closer? Christ, you hope not. You give him a brief smile before responding, “Yeah, see you tonight. Thank you, Dr. O’Hara!”

“How many times do I have to tell you to call me Miguel?” He calls after you. 

“Maybe when I’ve cracked the sequence!”

________

Miguel watches your hips sway in the jeans you wore to class today, the denim hugging your curves so well he has to bite back a groan. The door to the lecture hall slams shut behind you and he sighs, rubbing a hand over his jaw in frustration.

You drive him crazy. Every class period you’re sitting in the front row, watching him as you tap your pen to your lips or leaning over your desk just enough to give him a glimpse down your blouse or dress. Or you’re in the lab, delicately handling samples and extractions with a level of competency beyond your years, your lip caught between your teeth as you analyze a sequencing output. 

He looks forward to and dreads your impending graduation in equal measure, being free from the constant temptation but losing the greatest researcher he’s met in years. 

Miguel finishes gathering his belongings as the door opens and the next lecturer comes in, nodding at him in greeting. As he steps out into the warm Nueva York air, he has a weird sense that something big is coming. 

He just doesn’t know what.

________

Miguel is waiting for you outside of his double locked research lab that evening, suit jacket hung over his arm and the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up to reveal tan forearms dusted with dark hair. Your brain nearly short circuits at the sight, conjuring up images of those arms wrapped around your—

No, you think. He’s your mentor. Your handsome, intelligent, and very serious mentor. 

He looks up as you approach, corners of his lips tilting the slightest bit. Or maybe it’s a trick of the light, you can’t be sure, but he presses his palm to the biometric lock and the heavy metal doors slide open. He steps inside ahead of you, putting his face in the frame of the security camera. A red laser scans his face and a light above the second locked door goes from red to green, the click of the lock disengaging echoing in the anteroom. 

You follow him through the door and into his research lab. The fluorescent lights glimmer off the chrome equipment and pristine bench surfaces. A machine whirs, running the sequence analysis you’ve been waiting on. 

“LYLA, what’s the status?” Dr. O’Hara says as he sets his belongings on the desk in the corner.

“Sequence will complete on schedule. Also, your specimen delivery is available in the ultra low freezer,” Dr. O’Hara’s AI assistant, LYLA, announces, feminine voice carrying through the room. 

“I have a surprise for you,” Dr. O’Hara says, tugging on his lab coat as he walks towards the ultra low freezer. 

“A surprise?” You ask, setting your stuff down at the assistant’s work space. 

There’s the beep of a passcode being entered and the heavy freezer door being opened and shut. He’s holding a tray of cryovials, the contents varying in color. He sets the tray on a bench top near your desk and pulls one out, holding it up to the light.

“Isolated arachnoid mutagen,” he says. Your mouth drops open in shock. You rush forward, pressing in close to stare up at the vial with him. 

“You’re kidding,” you whisper. He hands the vial to you, fingers brushing yours. You hold it between your thumb and index finger to inspect the suspension, red in color with tiny flecks of black. “Dr. O’Hara, this is insane. How did you even get this?”

“A guy owed me a favor,” he says. You glance up at his face and you’re suddenly very aware of how close your bodies are. One deep breath and your chest would probably graze his, and did you just imagine his eyes dropping to your lips? 

“That’s one hell of a favor,” you murmur, stepping back. “You want me to work on the extraction?”

“If you don’t mind.”

“You say that like I’m not your research assistant. You can tell me to do anything.” Dr. O’Hara’s eyes go wide and you cough. “I mean, you know, lab related. Research stuff. Yeah. I’ll get started on this. LYLA? Power up the centrifuge and thermocycler, please.”

“Centrifuge is online. Thermocycler will reach optimal processing temperature in t-minus five minutes,” LYLA replies.

You set up all the necessary supplies and prepare the sample for the thermocycler, going through the motions that are now part of your muscle memory - extract, vortex, centrifuge, extract, wash, set in ice. You set your tray of samples into the thermocycler and remove your gloves to hit the start button.

________

Miguel watches you run the PCR test, fixated on the confidence with which you complete each step and your words from earlier continue to echo in his head.

“You can tell me to do anything.”

Dios mío, he thinks. He pinches the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut as he tries to will away the possibilities that anything could entail. 

“Sequence results are available. Would you like to review now?” LYLA asks. 

“Display,” Miguel says. You spin on your stool to view the hologram of the spliced DNA you prepared. He notices an issue immediately.

“Fuck,” you hiss, stepping up to the control screen and spinning the model. “There’s a deletion.”

“You knew there was a risk of that.” 

You zoom in on the model DNA strand, a broken gap shown in the mutation. “I know there was a risk, but it should have worked.”

Miguel crosses his arms and watches as you bring up the transillumination image of the DNA you had attempted to merge with a human sample. “You wanted it to work. Science is finite. There is no room for should.”

You glance at him. You look like you’re about to say something when the thermocycler beeps and he’s left to wonder what you would have said as you busy yourself with removing your tray of DNA samples. He leans against the bench as you assemble the agarose gel for electrophoresis. 

“Tell me, why do you think there was a deletion?” He asks. 

“The mutagen was incompatible with the human strand,” you murmur, adding dye to your vials. “Just the same as it has been the last dozen times.”

You’ve loaded the wells of the gel with your sample and set it in the tank, closing the lid and turning on the power supply. Miguel takes the remaining tray of arachnid samples to the freezer while your procedure runs. He understands your frustration, he’s run his fair share of failed experiments after all.

After about an hour, the hum of the electrical current from the electrophoresis tank shuts off. Miguel, who had been reviewing a journal submission for El Origen de la Genética Mutante, joins you at the bench as you remove your gel and set it on the UV transilluminator.

“LYLA, scan and project,” you ask the AI assistant. Miguel stands behind you, looking at the DNA bands you’ve generated. He’s momentarily distracted by the fact that he’s so close he can smell the sweet scent of your perfume, something citrusy that reminds him of summer.

You jump suddenly, back colliding with his chest. His hands come up to grip your waist, steadying you as you turn to face him, face lit up in the brightest grin.

“Miguel, look. This arachnid mutagen. It’s a potential match for insertion!” You say excitedly. “It has the same length as the deletion seen with the scorpion mutagen.”

“LYLA, show the current projection against the scorpion scan,” he says. The two images appear side by side and it’s clear that the band of arachnid mutagen fits definitively in a space that appears void in the scorpion samples. “Mierda.”

“You see it, right?” You ask. It’s then that Miguel realizes he’s still got his hands on your waist. He flexes his fingers experimentally, watching as your eyes go the slightest bit darker at the pressure.

“I can see it,” he murmurs. He wants so desperately to lean in closer, to back your body up until you’re pressed between the wall and his body, nowhere to go as his lips explore yours.

But he doesn’t. He drops his hands and puts much needed space between your bodies. He clears his throat.

“Prepare a combined sample,” Miguel says. You blink, checking your watch.

“It’s almost nine. Running a new combined sample would mean we’re here until close to midnight.”

“I’m familiar with how time passes, sí.”

“Are you sure you want—“

Miguel sighs, placing his hands on his hips. “You’re on the verge of one of the greatest scientific discoveries in the last decade. Do you think I give a shit about having to stay late? What kind of mentor would I be if I told you, ‘Oh just wait until Monday to change the scientific world’?”

“One with a work-life balance, probably,” you reply with a giggle. Miguel raises his eyebrows at you. “Okay, okay, combined sample. I’m on it.”

As you rush around the lab, it hits him that you called him Miguel. Not Dr. O’Hara. He’s not sure what that means but he’s certain he wants to hear his name from your lips again.

_______

Dr. O’Hara orders food while your new combined sequence runs, begrudgingly agreeing to a half pineapple and half sausage pizza to split. You’re sitting outside of the lab in the empty hallway, pizza box between you as you eat the slices over grease stained napkins. 

“What are your plans for after graduation?” Dr. O’Hara asks. You shrug.

“Probably get my doctorate. No one takes you seriously in this field without one.”

He frowns. “You’re on the cusp of a major breakthrough, one that could change our understanding of genetic modifications and mutants as we know it.”

“Yeah, and it’s coming from your lab. You’ll get listed as the first author, that’s how this goes.” You pick at your pizza crust, tearing the bread into tiny pieces that you sweep back into the box. 

“I won’t let that happen. If this works, you’ll be the first name on that paper,” Dr. O’Hara says vehemently. “Te lo prometo.”

You smile, caught in his gaze for a brief moment before an alarm rings from his watch. LYLA announces, “Sequencing complete.”

Dr. O’Hara stands, holding a hand out to you. You grasp his broad palm and he pulls you up with ease, the force of it making you stumble slightly. You press a hand to his chest to steady yourself, marveling at how solid he feels beneath your palm. 

“Sorry. Slipped,” you murmur.

He doesn’t say anything, just stares at you with a crease between his brow and storms in his eyes. His watch beeps again and he releases your hand to silence it, the spell broken between you. 

He unlocks the lab doors and you join him at the holoprojector, taking a deep breath. Dr. O’Hara brings up the sequence analysis, the hologram coming to life in the space between you. Your eyes scan the model, checking for gaps, deletions, frayed nucleotides, anything that could mean your procedure didn’t work.

You turn the projection this way and that, looking at it from every angle. You scan the result output reading, eyes jumping to the green SEQUENCING SUCCESSFUL text at the bottom. 

You turn to face Dr. O’Hara, eyes wide with surprise. “It worked.”

“It did,” he replies. 

“It worked,” you say again. You’re bouncing on the balls of your feet, your grin so wide it hurts your cheeks as you rush forward shouting, “It worked!”

Dr. O’Hara’s arms open to catch you, wrapping around your waist as he lifts you from the ground and spins you. He’s smiling, a rare sight for such a serious man, and it makes your heart pound in your chest as you stare up into his face.

“Dr. O’Hara?” You ask as he sets you down, his arms still wrapped tight around your back. “What—“

His lips collide with yours, stealing your breath from your lungs and your words from your brain as you melt against his broad body. The kiss is anything but gentle, with Miguel acting like a man starved as his tongue sweeps into your mouth.

“Dr. O’Hara—“

“Lo juro por Dios, if you call me that one more time,” he growls, lips trailing down your neck with wet kisses, “Miguel. Say it.”

“M-Miguel,” you whimper. He smiles against your neck before sinking his teeth against your pulse point, making you gasp. 

“That’s right,” he says, lifting his head. His brown eyes have gone dark and he’s smirking as his hands find the hem of your blouse, fingertips ghosting across the skin of your abdomen and dipping beneath the waist of your jeans. “Tell me what you want, arañita.”

Rather than trust your voice, you bring your own hands to his shirt collar, working at the buttons of his dress shirt as he opens the fly of your pants. He slips his hand lower just as you reach the last button of his shirt, revealing the tight white t-shirt that outlines his impressive chest.

His fingers rub you over your panties and you feel your knees buckle at the delicious friction. Miguel chuckles, removing his hand to grip the backs of your thighs and lift you against him, your legs wrapping around his trim waist and your hands holding onto his shoulders. He sets you down by his desk, reaching around you to sweep the surface clean, pens and paper falling to the floor.

“In a rush are we?” You say with a laugh. Miguel raises an eyebrow at you.

“Cállate.” He kneels before you, lifting each foot to remove your shoes before turning you to face the desk with his hands on your hips. He grasps the waist of your jeans and shimmies the material down over your hips. When they’re pooled around your ankles, his warm palms grip each ass cheek roughly, spreading you open. “This pussy is even prettier than I imagined,” he groans.

“You think about my pussy a lot, Dr. O’Hara?” You ask innocently. A palm lands a smack to your ass cheek, heat blooming across your skin as you gasp.

“Don’t play dumb, baby, I know you’ve thought about this just as much. You think I can’t see it. Trust me, I can see you watching me in class with those pretty little lips wrapped around your pen, wishing it was something else. Isn’t that right?”

You gasp as he runs his thick fingers through your soaked folds, reaching forward only enough to graze your clit without giving it the attention you desperately want. He leans himself over you, his chest pressed to your back and his lips grazing your ear as he says, “Answer me.”

“Yes, yes,” you pant, the confession earning you that delicious friction, his fingers drawing messy circles around the sensitive nub. He withdraws too soon for your liking, a whine falling from your lips that he shushes, his warm breath on your pussy. You turn your head to look over your shoulder, surprised to find him on his knees.

As you watch, he spreads your cheeks once more before leaning in, licking from your clit to your entrance with a rough groan. Your head drops down, hitting the surface of the desk with a thump as he eats you out like a man who’s found water in a desert. The sounds echoing in the lab are downright indecent, deep groans of appreciation against your cunt and desperate whines from your lips.

“Miguel,” you moan, unable to keep your hips still as his tongue drives you closer to the cliff’s edge of release. “Miguel, I’m gonna cum!”

The man only grips your hips harder, fingers digging deep as he holds you still and doubles his efforts. The thread you’re hanging on by snaps, sending you falling into ecstasy as your muscles go tight and your breath leaves you in a shout of his name as you unravel. 

He pulls away only long enough to stand and turn you to face him, lifting you so that you’re sitting on the edge of the desk, legs spread by his body. He wastes no time slipping two thick fingers inside of your still fluttering cunt, his grin sharp as he sets a pace that has you trying to wiggle away to escape the overstimulation.

“Ah, Miguel!” You yelp, trying to shut your legs. His free hand shoves one thigh wide, pressing it to the desk. “What–”

“Cum for me again, I need to see your face this time,” he demands. He curls his fingers, pressing against your front wall with each drag of his hand from your body. 

“I can’t!”

“What was it you said to me earlier? I can tell you to do anything?” He curls his fingers harder, focusing his efforts on a spot that has you squirming, desperate to get away and to cum in equal measure. “I’m telling you to cum again, arañita, so be a good girl and do as I say.”

Your orgasm crashes over you in a wave, the tightness in your abdomen unraveling as you clench around his fingers. His movements slow as you try to catch your breath until he’s withdrawing, leaving you feeling disparagingly empty.

“Mirame,” Miguel says. You lift your head, pushing yourself up on your elbows and watching as he unbuckles his belt. “You made a mess, baby.”

You feel your cheeks heat with embarrassment as you notice the wet stains on the front of his gray slacks. The feeling is short lived, however, as Miguel unbuttons his pants and pushes them down his thighs along with his boxers, kicking them to the side as he reaches behind his head and pulls his t-shirt off. You’re blown away by how stunning he is, broad shoulders and chest that lead to sculpted abs and a defined adonis belt that draws your eyes to his thick and intimidatingly long cock.

“There’s no way that’s going to fit,” you tell him nervously.

“Why don’t we test that hypothesis?” He asks, taking himself in hand. You blink at him.

“Did…did you just make a joke?” Laughter bubbles up your chest until it’s spilling into the room, your shoulders shaking with the force of it. Miguel takes himself in hand, notching the broad head of his length to your dripping entrance and sliding inside the barest amount, just the tip, but it has your laughter morphing into gasps.

“Mierda,” he murmurs, gaze fixed where your bodies connect. “So fucking tight, arañita.”

You feel like he’s splitting you apart, the stretch deep and all consuming as he fits himself inside of you, drawing back after each inch and slowly thrusting back in and giving you more of his cock in the process.

“You’re so close,” he tells you. “You’re doing so good for me. Tell me how it feels.”

“It feels so fucking good, Miguel,” you answer honestly. “I’m so full.”

“Fucking right you are,” he growls. His hands shove your blouse up, bunching the fabric under your armpits to expose your breasts. He tugs the cups of your bra down before leaning forward, the last bit of his length slipping inside of you as his lips wrap around a pert nipple and his hand gropes the opposite breast. 

Your back arches at all the sensation - the fullness and stretch of him inside of you, the warmth of his mouth and the pinch of his fingers. He moves his mouth to your other breast and looks up at you through dark lashes with darker eyes as he licks the taut peak while holding your gaze.

His hips draw back, the drag of each inch from your body exquisite torture until he slams into you, the force of it sliding you up the desk. You cry out, your hands gripping his shoulders and your fingernails leaving crescent shaped indents as you cling to him.

Miguel stands, his arms looping beneath your thighs so that the backs of your knees rest across his forearms, spreading you open as he picks up his pace. He looks down at your body like it’s his greatest discovery.

“Fuck, fuck, te sientes tan bien,” he growls. 

“Miguel,” you moan, “please, please, please!”

“What are you begging for, arañita? Tell me.” 

“Wanna cum, please, Miguel,” you beg. He drops your legs, reaching up to wrap a hand around the back of your neck, urging you to sit up. You keep one hand planted on the desk behind you, the other diving into his thick, dark hair, pulling at the strands.

He drags his strong nose along your jaw as he murmurs, “Greedy girl, but I’ll give you what you need. Won’t I?”

“Uh huh,” you moan in response. His other hand settles at the base of your throat and his eyes hold a question that has your pussy clenching around him in anticipation.

His palm creeps up, strong fingers wrapping around your delicate throat, squeezing the sides the slightest bit. Your eyes roll back at the pressure.

“Look at me,” Miguel demands, “look at me while I make you cum again with my hand around your pretty throat.”

You gasp for air as he pounds into you, your release sparkling at the edges of your vision. It explodes like a supernova across your nerves, your muscles tightening around him and making him moan, a deep rumble that you echo as his movements grow erratic.

He slams deep inside of you, cock pulsing and filling you with warmth as he groans your name, head dropped to your shoulder. You’re both panting, trying to catch your breath as the sweat on your skin cools and you run your fingers through his hair.

“That was—“

“Perfecto,” he finishes, lifting his head and pressing a sweet kiss to your lips, one that has your heart pounding even harder than the lust filled ones from earlier. “It’s late. Let’s get this cleaned up and get you home. I’ll drive you.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you argue. He scowls at you as you continue to say, “No, seriously, you don’t need to go out of your way—“

“Will you shut up for a minute?” Miguel asks. He holds your face in his hands as he says, “Get dressed. I’m driving you home.”

He steps back, the absence of him making you feel empty as you carefully stand from the desk on shaky legs. He hands you your jeans and you look around in confusion.

“Have you seen my underwear?” You ask.

“Hm? No, I don’t see them,” he hums, buttoning his slacks. The stain from earlier has blessedly faded. 

You shrug, pulling your jeans on and fixing your blouse. Miguel cleans up the stuff he’d knocked from the desk, putting it all back in haphazard piles and grabbing his bag. He holds his hand out to you.

“Let’s get out of here,” he says. He must sense the hesitation you’re feeling when you don’t immediately grab his hand because he steps close, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close. “No one will see us. It’ll be our secret.”

You nod, digging your teeth into your bottom lip. “Just this once?”

“Not if I have anything to say about it, arañita.”

The most fantastic fanart by narutoss.ramen on insta that fits the vibe of professor! miguel:

[romanarose]

I'm thinking “my lipgloss is all over your lips.” - with Steven 🥺 because I just like thinking about kissing him and having his lips all plump and glossy hehe.

CONGRATS AGAIN ON 1K BABE YOU DESERVE ALL OF THAT AND MORE

Lucky for you, I was feeling v soft about Steven today because today if the anniversary of when I started writing my first Moon Knight series, the one that started it all for me here, Sunshine, Starlight, Sweetheart, Brightside

It's a little rough but it was my first baby

Anyway, this is basically cheating bc its a scene from that series that I thought was just so cute and deserved to been seen without having to have read all 33 chapters of that series XD Origenally it was steven x oc so i changed it to second person, don't hate me for cheating lol! If you see a "Her" or "sam" just ignore, it's meant to be "you" Also, it's chapstick not lip gloss. sorry.

Summary: While fucking Steven, your lips get dry, and that shit drives you crazy

Warnings: PIV smut, uuuuuhhhhhh. is that it? its just sweet and smutty

Dry Lips

Steven Grant x f!reader

(reader had hair that can be gripped)

“You’re doing so good for me baby.” You were riding on top of a sweaty, writhing Steven. “You look so sexy under me, pretty boy.” You ran your hands up and down his perfect body, gliding easily with the layer of sweat.

Steven was drowning in the pleasure of you, soft blankets under him and soft skin on top. “Fuck darling, fuck, please…” He wines, pinching his eyes together.

“Not yet baby, open your eyes, I want to look at you…”

But Steven was unable to do as he was told, too enthralled in pleasure to listen.

“Steven, baby…” You warn as your voice lowers., slowing your movement over him. “Open, you know I like to see your pretty eyes when you’re so deep inside me, fucking me so good, please? Please can I see them, my love?”

“Fuck” Steven’s sparkling, watery eyes look at you as he grips your hips, forcibly moving her along his length.

“Good boy” You coo, playing with his hair as you scanned his face, taking in all his features until you met his eyes. You could never doubt he loved you, not when he looked at you like that. “Shit” She muttered.

Steven frowned. “You alright, sweetheart?”

You flashed a smile at him. “Oh, I’m doing great, Steven.”

“Bloody hell” He writhes beneath you. “Say my name again, love.” 

“Oh Steven, my sweet, sweet Steven…” You pout, watching him come undone as you rock your hips. “It’s almost unbearable how good you look, all a mess for me, your cock so deep inside me…”

Steven threw his head back, keeping his eyes on you. “Fuck darling, if you keep talking like, I’m not going to last much longer.”

“Poor baby… one sec, give me your hand?” 

Steven was confused but did as you asked.

“Don’t drop me.” Holding onto Steven’s hand (and never stopping your movements on him), you leaned over to your nightstand, grabbing chapstick. Steven pulled you back up, and you put a thick layer of Carmex on your lips.

Steven smiles, shaking his head. “You and your chapstick…” His hand went to her clit, making you pick up your movements. 

You giggle, Steven’s favorite sound on this earth. “I can’t concentrate if they're dry!”

“Well” Steven huffs out, focusing hard on not coming. “At least share.”

“Happy to oblige, pretty boy.” You lean over him, kissing him deeply, spreading the chapstick over his dry lips. You'd have to do this more often.  “There, now my chapstick is all over your lips. You ready, pretty baby?” You asked him, damn-well knowing the answer.

“Yes, yes please, love, please? I need to come in you, pleeeease…?” He begs for his release, rutting up against you. “You’re so beautiful darling, I can’t hardly take it sometimes.”

You cup his face, leaning close to those lips you love so much. “Come for me, Sunshine?”

With a loud grunt, Steven grabbed your hair and pulled you to him, kissing you deeply, spreading the chapstick all over as you feel him spilling his warmth inside you. He wrapped you up closely, rolling you over so he on top and continued fucking into you. “I love you, I love you so much sweetheart… I’m yours, you’re mine, yeah? Tell me you’re mine, please love?”

“I’m yours, all yours, my sweet baby… my sexy, pretty baby…” You mumble into his mouth as Steven started slowing down. “Fucking me so good Steven, filling me up with your cum, making me yours… claiming me…”

“Fuuuuck.” He drew it out and thrust in for the last time, collapsing onto you. As he softened, he began to pull out, but you stop him, clutching to his back.

“Stay with me, please? I need you close, Sunshine…” You nuzzle your face into his neck, leaving gentle kisses.

“Of course, darling.” Steven stayed on top of you in a loving embrace, inside you, as close as two people can get.

**************

anyway i hope those who have read sunshine arent disappointed i stole it for this lol lol

(where my chipstick/gloss, whatever peeps. i just keep a jar of vasaline in my classroom lmfao, there so much chaptstick or carmax or whatever all over my house)

@whatthefishh @eyelessfaces @jake-g-lockley @fandxmslxt69 @littlenosoul @campingwiththecharmings @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

[tomhardymyking]

Yesterday I went to the cinema and outside there is a screen where they show trailers, I kept looking at it and thinking about what it would be like to see 𝗧𝗼𝗺 there again in any film, or even a 𝑽𝒆𝒏𝒐𝒎 3 spot after it had been filmed here 💖

Having said that, I've already watched 𝑴𝒂𝒅𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝑾𝒆𝒃 and...

I liked it, it's a good origin story for a 𝗦𝗼𝗻𝘆-𝗠𝗮𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗹's character and places the 𝗣𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿 of this universe who I think will come out soon in the next movies 👏🏻 The girls are awesome, and I hope there are more of them 🙏🏻

By the way, if you are going to watch the film in case there are references to 𝗩𝗲𝗻𝗼𝗺, there aren't... I would have liked a post-credits scene showing her in the present day referencing some film or character like 𝗩𝗲𝗻𝗼𝗺 or 𝗘𝗱𝗱𝗶𝗲, but well 🤔 (It's no spoiler, it was already said)

⠀⠀⠀⠀

Ayer fui al cine y fuera de él hay una pantalla donde muestran tráilers, me quedé mirándola y pensaba en cómo sería ver a 𝗧𝗼𝗺 ahí de nuevo en cualquier peli, o incluso un anuncio de 𝑽𝒆𝒏𝒐𝒎 3 después de haberse rodado aquí 💖

Dicho esto, ya he visto 𝑴𝒂𝒅𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝑾𝒆𝒃 y...

A mí me ha gustado, es una buena historia de origen de un personaje de 𝗦𝗼𝗻𝘆-𝗠𝗮𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗹 y sitúa al 𝗣𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿 de este universo que creo que saldrá pronto en las próximas películas 👏🏻 Las chicas están increíbles, y espero que haya más de ellas 🙏🏻

Por cierto, si vais a ver la película por si hay referencias a 𝗩𝗲𝗻𝗼𝗺, no hay... Me hubiera gustado una escena poscréditos mostrando a ella en la actualidad haciendo referencia a alguna película o personaje como 𝗩𝗲𝗻𝗼𝗺 o 𝗘𝗱𝗱𝗶𝗲, pero bueno 🤔 (No es spoiler, ya fue dicho)

⠀⠀

[aurorablackwei]

Something I really dislikes is when Lan Zhan is a single father to A-Yuan without having met Wei Ying first. Or as I read sometimes, Wei ying abandons him or leaves. I think there is no way for Wei Ying to leave the Wens and A-Yuan unless he die, goes to jail or is taken away.

Also, I don't see Lan Zhan as someone who would adopt a child on a whim, I know he cares and loves Lan Shizui and saved him and raised him, but he wouldn't have even met him if it wasn't for Wei Ying. It's a personal thing, but when Wei Ying is erased from his life or die and is blamed for it, it looks injustice.

It feels like if some of your parents died is equal to leave you behind. It is also ignoring the development of children up to 5 years of age, the first year of life as well as the first 5 are very important in development, regardless of A Yuan's amnesia, we know that he erased traumatic memories and therefore his family, but at least in the audio drama they don't seem to have erased their speech abilities or personality and that is due to their Wen family and Wei Ying. Wen Ning himself when talks about Shizui with Lan Wangji said "before it was always about WWX and now it is about LWJ", we know that A-Yuan sees both of them as father figures. I just don't like when people completely erase the Wen or Wei Ying from their origin, especially in the Modern AU.

Finally, I am a bit more spiteful, A-Yuan lost her family in part because of the Lan and even Lan Qiren fought for he would not stay and in the novel they said that it is only when LWJ gets drunk and marks himself LQR stop objecting.

I can only accept it if it is biological Wangxian, but with Wen family too.

-------------------------------------------------------------

Algo que realmente no me gusta es cuando Lan Zhan es padre soltero de A-Yuan sin haber conocido primero a Wei Ying.

O como hacen a veces, Wei ying lo abandona o se va, creo que no hay forma que Wei Ying deje a los Wen y aun mas a A-Yuan a menos que muera, vaya a la carcel o se lo quiten.

Tampoco veo a Lan Zhan como alguien que adoptaria a un niño por capricho, se que se preocupa por Lan Shizui y lo salvo y lo crío, pero ni siquiera lo habria conocido si no es por Wei Ying.

Es algo personal, pero cuando borran a Wei Ying de su vida y lo culpan por no estar, siento que es como decir que un padre que muere es igual a que te abandona y es cruel.

También es ignorar el desarrollo de los niños hasta los 5 años, el primer año de vida asi como los 5 primeros son importantisimos en el desarrollo, independiente de la amnesia de A Yuan, sabemos que borro recuerdos traumaticos y por lo tanto su familia, pero al menos en el audio drama no parecen haber borrado sus capacidades de habla o personalidad y eso se le deben a su familia Wen y a Wei Ying.

El mismo Wen Ning cuando habla con Lan Wangji sobre Lan Shizui le dice que antes siempre se trato de WWX y ahora se trata de LWJ, sabemos que A-Yuan los ve a ambos como figuras paternas. Solo eso no me agrada cuando borran por completo a los Wen o Wei Ying de su origen, sobretodo en los Modern AU.

Por último, yo soy un poco mas rencorosa, A-Yuan perdio a su familia en parte por los Lan e incluso Lan Qiren peleo para que no se quedará y en la novela dice que es solo cuando LWJ se emborracha y se marca a si mismo deja de poner objeciones. Solo puedo aceptarlo si es biológico de ambos e incluye a la familia Wen.

[no-passaran]

Hi! Don't feel obligated to answer, but I've been learning catalan & I'd love to read some novels originally written in catalan, but i'm having a bit of a hard time finding ones that aren't 'classics'. Any recs? (I usually like literary stuff, like, authors irritatingly showing their skill, i eat that shit up, but anything contemporary or psychological or fantasy or anything will absolutely do :,) )

Oop sorry, I hadn't seen the message until now.

You won't have difficulty about this because Catalan literature is very lively and there's lots of great books coming out very often. Catalan literature has been praised around the world for having such vitality and quality, considering that it's a relatively small language community.

Personally the first recommendation that came to mind is Manuel de Pedrolo but idk if you're considering that a classic? He's relatively recent but many 20th century authors have become classics. His Mecanoscrit del segon origen is definitely considered a classic even though it's only from 1974, but I don't think the other ones are usually. Anyway, I really like his sci-fi short stories book Trajecte final, and my dad has spent years obsessed with his theatre play Homes i no. Talking about theatre scrips, I have a really soft spot for La cançó de les balances by Josep Maria Carandell ❤️.

I'm not usually one to read many short stories books but I also recommend Albert Sánchez Piñol's Homenatge als caiguts (stories of about 2 pages long and usually funny, very entertaining to read).

For a completely different vibe of short stories, I also thought El Cafè de la Granota by Jesús Moncada was excellent, the characterization and events feel like hearing your grandparents telling stories of when they were young. I still haven't read his most famous novel Camí de sirga though, honestly I don't know what I'm waiting for lol.

Canto jo i la muntanya balla by Irene Solà has also been very popular in the past few years and she definitely shows off her literary prose. I found it very lovely and I recommend it for when you want something more experimental. It's a book where each chapter is narrated by someone or something different (a shepherd, the rain, a witch who was killed centuries ago, a deer, a dog...) and it's very well written, it has also won some international awards.

And listen for some reason I still haven't read them myself (I plan to change that soon) but the best contemporary author is probably Jaume Cabré. I've only heard the highest praise for his Les veus del Pamano, and other of his books like Jo confesso. I'm planning to finally read Les veus del Pamano this summer and I'm very excited for it.

Another one I've heard lots of praise for and which I'm excited to read (hopefully soon) is Les històries naturals by Joan Perucho. I wasn't going to include books I haven't read besides Cabré (because, let's face it, with a question like this one must include Jaume Cabré) but since you asked for literary fantasy I think you might like it. It's about a knight/botanist who looks for one of Jaume I's knights who is a vampire.

Others that I've had recommended but haven't had time to read yet: Junil a la terra dels bàrbars by Joan Lluís-Lluís, Nicolau by Antoni Veciana, Guilleries by Ferran Garcia, and lots of people have loved Eva Baltasar's Permagel, Boulder and Mamut though it doesn't seem like my style they seem interesting.

I don't know if any of my followers wants to share some more in the comments/reblogs, but I'd be interested to hear them too 👀

[lokis-army-77]

Summoning Part 4

Demon!Eddie Munson x female reader

Word Count: 2405

The Reader summons the demon again only to be punished for doing so. Before she disappears into nothingness, they have a small conversation.

Warning: 18+ spanking, unprotected sex, demon Eddie being demon Eddie.

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Masterlist (Taglist linked here)

After the demon had left me alone for another week without any indication as to when he would be back again, I took to what some may call ‘extreme measures’ and by that I mean I decided to summon him again. This time, in my bedroom, I set up the circle of candles and forwent the protective residuals, which apparently I was subpar at creating the first time. 

Once everything had been set up, I sat comfortably on the edge of my bed and read from the spell boy which I had borrowed from my friend, again. This time as I spoke the Origen words, I was not nervous or concerned when the candle flames began to flicker in the sudden breeze which started to waft around the room. It meant he was listening and on his way. 

I had expected him to crawl out from the ground again but today he had skipped out on the theatrics as he appeared as suddenly as he leaves. Like magic, he was standing before me an unamused look passing over his features. 

“What?” He quips, crossing his toned arms over his bare chest. 

I couldn’t help but stare at his chest as the glint of his nipple piercings fought my attention. Thoughts flooded my head as I gazed upon them. Why does he have those? What would it feel like to run my fingers over them? Tease them with my tongue?

I was brought out of my daze by his deep couch of aggravation. Quickly averting my gaze up to his intimidating glare, brows up in question. 

“What did you call me here for?” 

“I, well, I um. It’s been a week since you have visited me.” I stuttered out my response.

“I told you I would come on mine own time.” His words came out in a grumpy huff and the wings behind him flapped to show his frustration. 

He stepped over the lit candles and came closer to me. Slotting himself between my legs which dangled off the edge of the bed. My body shivered as he smoothed his hand down my right arm, stoping when he reached the book of spells, taking it from my hand and tossing it behind me on the bed. Then he gently places his fingers under my chin, lifting my face up to look him in the face. 

“Should I punish you for calling upon me for no reason, for wasting my time?” 

I was frozen in place, my body heating up quickly. I had not intended for this encounter to be filled with sexual desire but yet here we are. 

“Are you going to answer me little one?” 

I only nodded, not trusting words to come out of my mouth in an even flow. He grunted in approval, removing his hand from my chin and pushing me back on the bed. 

I watched him wilt hooded eyes as he took my hips in his hands and turned me roughly onto my stomach. My breathy moans filled the air as he sensually pulled at the black lace panties I had been wearing. 

The brush of the fabric against my skin had me sighing, thankful that he did not just snap me close into the void like the first time. It was turning me on so much that I had to press my legs together to relieve the pressure. 

One of his hands pressed into the skin just under my ass, stilling my impatient movements. Slowly but surely the garment was removed from my body and flung across the room. 

With his strong hands, he pulled at my hips again, putting my knees under me so that they could hold me steady. My head and chest stayed pushed down on my into the mattress. 

I could feel the throbbing of my cunt better now that it was exposed to him. The wetness cools as the air comes into contact with it. His fingers smoothed over where my tailbone was, grazing them down over my holes. His fingers pressed lightly into the sensitive pucker of my ass, massaging into it before going further down to gather the wetness of my cunt onto his fingers. 

“Shit.” I trembled. As soon as he had touched me his fingers were gone. With the briefest of touches, he had left me a wanting mess.

I turned my head to look for him but a hand pushed my head back down into the comforter. From where he had touched me on my head, he dragged his nails over my clothed back, the sensation wasn’t as intense as it was when he got to bare skin. I shivered when he stopped at my ass. Then, out of nowhere, he took his hand away and brought it back down quickly, spanking me. 

I cried out in a yelp much more in surprise than actual pain. Reaching my hands behind my back to stop him from assaulting my flesh again. 

“No, you must take it, it is your punishment for bothering me.” 

“I’m sorry,” I heaved when he moved to cross my hand behind my back and hold them down. I struggled against his hold as he spanked me again. 

The sting was sharp and instant then it dissipated into a present throb. My hands gripped at my arms as I struck me four more times. By the time he was through, I could feel my arousal beginning to drip down my thighs. 

Tears of frustration and need began to pool in my eyes. “Please, i- I won't call on you again. Just touch me and I won't do it gain.” I pleaded with him, the deep want for my cunt to be fucked closed my mind. 

The demon grunted, moving to line himself up behind me. I swiveled my hips, readying myself for him. 

A broken moan fell from me when I felt the head of his cock prodding at my soaking hole.  I was fluttering around him as he teased me, not fulling pushing into me, just staying right at the rim. 

“Please,” I choked back a sob. “I promise I won't call you for no reason again. Please.” 

The grip of his hand around my arms tightened as he finally pushed all the way into me. The head of his massive cock, scraped against my constricting walls, pulling long, impassioned moans from my mouth.

Once he had fully sheathed himself inside, he snapped his hips back and started pounding into me at a punishing pace. My body jerked and if it were not for the lethal grip he had on my arms, I would have flown forward across the bed at his power. 

My mouth hung open, drool pooling on the sheets below as the demon's cock split me open in a very pleasurable way. My arms fought to be free of his grip, yet that only made him tighten, I would definitely have finger-shaped bruises across my forearms tomorrow morning. 

My cunt was becoming wetter by the second, the slick sounds only getting louder with cage brutal jerk of his hips. With how fast and hard he was going, the high of my orgasm was within an arm's reach, just up ahead but there was something pulling me back, something that was missing that would help me to grab hold of that high and revel in it. 

“More,” I practically groaned into the mattress, rocking my hips back into his every time he came pushing forward. 

“Are you enjoying your punishment little one?” He asked, the hint of a laugh coming through in his otherwise gruff tone.

I nodded furiously. “Yes, yes yes, god yes.” The tight feeling in my core was at a standstill, the build-up had leveled out and now I was constantly at the edge feeling. “P-please more. Please, more. Need it.” My words came out in a flurry of moans and choked gasps. 

“Need it, do you? You want to cum?” He asked, leaning down so that his mouth was right at my ear. 

“God, yes. Please let me cum.” 

“There is no god here, he can not help you.” His lips tickled the shell of my ear.  At the utterance of god, the demon sped up his already expeditious assault. 

To my relief, he reached the hand not holding my arms to my front, sloppily smoothing it over my clit. My body began to lock up as I fought off my orgasm, waiting for him to give me permission. 

“I’m gonna- ah I’m gonna cum. Please, let me cum, please.” My body had broken out in a sweat and the air around us cooled it off. 

“Then cum.” 

Those simple two words felt like they rocked my world as I let go, gummy walls of my cunt constricting tightly around his cock, keeping him there as I contorted under him, in his tight grip. He rubbed my clit as I rode out my high, whimpering into the bed. 

“Fuck, thank you.” I heaved a breath, my body becoming pliant again. 

I hissed when he pulled out of me, walls sensitive. He let my hips down gently and I curled up into the messed-up sheets. With my eyes closed, I was hyper-aware of him jerking himself off over me. His grunt, was short and constant as he worked himself to his own edge. 

When he finally spilled over, I jerked in surprise at the feeling of his cum dripping onto the backs of my thighs. As he couch his breath, I turned onto my back, wiping his cum off with the already ruined sheets. My eyes watched him intently. I wanted to talk to him. 

As usual, he turned away from me, but before he could disappear into thin air again I called out to him.

“Wait. Please- please stay.” 

He turned back to look at me for a moment before shaking his head and turning back around. Quickly, I got to my feet, legs wobbling, and reached out for him, catching him before he went. 

“I know a few moments ago I promised to never call upon you again, but if you go now.” I huffed. “If you go now, I won't leave you alone.” 

He looked down at me with hard eyes, thinking of whether or not he should stay. Finally, he gave in, letting me drag him back over to the bed. 

We sat in silence for a moment. The only noises that could be heard were the sounds of our breathing as I thought about what to say.

Clearing my throat, I finally asked, “Do you have a name?” The question was timid.

He nodded curtly.

“Can you tell me?” 

He shook his head no in reply. 

“Oh,” I looked down at my hands. “Okay.” I thought of something else to ask him, anything to keep him here longer. “What kind of demon are you exactly?”

“I am just a demon as I was an angel before the fall. Nothing special, I am lord over nothing, I just am.” He moved to sit back more on the bed, making himself comfortable.

“Wait. Fall? Do you mean like ‘The Fall? When Lucifer and his angels were cast out of heaven?” 

He chuckled, “The very one.” 

“Wow.” I stared at him in awe. He was a being from almost the very beginning of time and yet it was my room he chose to grace.

“Close your mouth, little one, you might catch flies. He brought his finger to my chin and pushed it up, closing it. “That is why I was a little surprised you were able to summon me that first time. Usually, it is harder to call upon us who have walked the earth and hell since the fall, it takes many years of practice and perfected summoning circles, and yet you,” he paused, running his hand from my chin up to push a piece of hair behind my ear. “You were able to reach me with no problem.”

“I was only doing what the book had told me to do.” I poked my thumb out behind me at where the book of spells had landed earlier. 

His eyes softened when he looked at me with his intense black eyes. Then he cleared his throat. “Here,” He removed his hand from my face and grabs hold of my own, pulling it to him, palm facing up. His other hand came to rest over mine and with a twitch of his wrist, I could feel the added weight of something. “For when you actually have a reason to call upon me. Do not just use it to use it. That is only for emergencies like the night of All Hallows Eve.” 

“I-I, uh. Thank you.” I stutter my thanks out to him as he pulled his hand away. There in my palm was a necklace. A dainty gold chain with a singular blood red ruby dangling down from a separate chain. It looked much like a rosary without all the beads and a whole lot smaller. “How will I call you with this?”

“Let me.” He took the necklace from my hand and turned me around. My heart was beating out of my chest as he moved all my hair to one side and clasped the delicate chain around my neck. Slowly he trailed his fingers over my skin, down my arms, and held me tightly to his chest, mouth hovering near my heart. 

If he could hear the loud beating of my heart in my chest, I would not be surprised. His closeness set me on fire more in this tenderly intimate moment than it did when we had sex. I couldn't help the hitch in my breath as he guided my right hand with his up to where the stone rested, nestled just at the start of my cleavage. 

“You take this stone into your hand and just call out to me and I will hear you.” He let go and caressed his hand down my body and onto my bare legs. 

I turned myself around in his hold, looking up into his eyes. “Thank you.” I leaned up and gave him a quick peck on the lips. He stiffened and to my surprise, stood quickly to his feet. 

“I must take my leave.” As the last word left his mouth, he vanished, leaving me alone again and very confused.

Eddie Taglist: @loveofmylife12@ellabellabus07@wickedwitchofwest@siriusstwelveyears@ameliakf13 @milly-louise @darkscrossfire @harrypotter-posts @dedeinspire @ccosmic-illusion @eddiesbirdie @castiels-gracex @luvwanda @whimsywisher @wool-hat7 @callsignthunder @corrodedhawkins @stefans-wife @wool-hat7 @bookfrog242 @hellv1ra@f4erietaless@kenzi-woycehoski@mandyjf @harrys-tittie

Summoning Taglist: @alana4610 @ghostqueenofthedamned @simp2537 @sammararaven @akiratoro420 @my-malachai-stilinski

[momentsbeforemass]

Blotted out

Today’s Gospel is the parable about a wasteful steward, a bad manager. One who is about to get fired.

The manager’s big idea? Before he gets fired, he calls in the people who are in debt to his soon-to-be-former employer. And writes off their debts.

He makes sure they know that he’s the one who gave them a break. So they’ll be willing to help him out. When he shows up next week looking for a job.

Some worldly wisdom by the wasteful steward to be sure. But there’s some other worldly wisdom in this parable as well – and we see it in the people whose debts are written off.

None of them go back to the steward’s former employer and ask to have their debts reinstated. To a person they are all happy to take the gift they’ve been given.

And the steward’s former employer? He doesn’t try to have their debts reinstated. He never speaks of the debts again.

Why would he do that? Remember, this is a parable. Which means that there is a lot more going on here. For his part, Origen sees a beautiful image of God’s forgiveness in this.

Thinking of all the idiot things that you and I do to separate ourselves God, Origen says, “if you transgress, you write in yourselves the handwriting of sin…”

“When you have approached the cross of Christ and the grace of forgiveness, your handwriting is fastened to the cross and blotted out in the fountain of forgiveness.”

“Do not rewrite later what has been blotted out, or repair what has been destroyed.”

This is what happens in Reconciliation.

After God forgives us, He blots out the records of our wrongdoing and destroys the evidence.

After God forgives us, He doesn’t remind us of what we did. Or hold it against us.

After God forgives us, He never thinks about our sins again.

Something to remember, the next time you and I try to beat ourselves up over something that God has already forgiven.

Today’s Readings

[nelweensfic]

Sanctuary

This is for @drarrymicrofic song prompt "Sanctuary" by Origene. Thank you @cluelesspigeons for beta reading ❤️

Until eighth year, Draco hadn’t known how big Harry’s sanctuary was. The Room of Requirement was a place where all the houses were free, where they could laugh all together. Right now, only the Slytherins were invited, as a restart. There weren’t any rules. The houses didn’t exist. They were just teenagers being silly and laughing. No judgment.

Draco looked at Harry. This was his sanctuary. He was sure he would never leave Hogwarts for this amazing place.

[king-r4t]

Mucho texto

Spanish:

Scp-1381 o como el se hace llamar “Nill” es un humanoide con la particular habilidad de que cualquier persona en un radio de 5 metros, sienta una gran curiosidad con verle el rostro, si la víctima cae en esto va a caer perdidamente enamorada de SCP-1381 al punto de una enfermiza obsesión. Si 1381 se aburre de la víctima o ya consiguió lo que quiso de esta, una simple beso bastará para asesinar a su víctima (algo similar como el toque de SCP-049).

Cualquiera que haya estado en con tan yo con Nill y a sobrevivido (ya sea separándolo de la entidad o que esté lo deje vivir) sentirá una gran desesperación por volver con SCP-1381, luego de cierto tiempo en insolación volverá a la normalidad; aunque sin poder experimentar cariño por otra persona que no sea Nill. Las personas que han visto su rostro siempre lo van a describir como: “La criatura más bella en el mundo”

A pesar de estas cualidades, Nill es alguien egocéntrico, egoísta, avaricioso y manipulador. Siempre intentará endulzarte a que le mires el rostro o que directamente lo adores, pocas veces se le a visto siendo genuinamente amistoso con alguien y en si es alguien bastante difícil de tratar.

Se conoce que a vivido desde la época victoriana, acerca de su modus operandi en ese entonces y algunas vivencias que tuvo en el pasado, pero no habla más allá de su origen o si es que conoce a otro SCP (mencionó muy por encima que sabe de la existencia de SCP-035 por haber vivido ambos por esa época).

Coopera muy poco y es común verlo haciéndose el que sabe más solo para salir con un “Si me liberas, te lo digo” en si: odia estar contenido y es normal verlo intentando atraer a alguien para poder escapar.

-No le agrada ser llamado por el número que le asignaron; aunque igual la Fundación ignora esto.

-Cuando lo atraparon se le fue confiscado un montón de joyería que este llevaba encima.

-Es muy raro verlo perder el temperamento, siempre mantendrá una imagen limpia e impecable.

-Si llegas a insultar su imagen es común que actúe pasivo agresivo contigo.

English:

SCP-1381, or as he calls himself, "Nill", is an humanoid witch particular ability manages to attract anyone within a 5-meter radius, generating curiosity on the person. If the victim falls for this effect, they will fall head over heels in love with SCP-1381 to the point of transforming it into an unhealthy obsession. If SCP-1381 gets bored with the victim, or has already gotten what it wanted from the victim, a simple kiss will suffice to kill his victim (similar to SCP-049's touch).

Anyone who has had contact with Nill and survived (whether separating them from the entity or him letting them live) will feel desperation to return to SCP-1381, after some time in heatstroke, he will return to normal; without being able to experience affection for anyone other than Nill.

People who have seen his face describe him as: "The most beautiful creature in the world." Despite these qualities, Nill is self-centered, selfish, greedy, and manipulative. He will always try to convince you into looking at his face or directly adore him. He has rarely been seen being genuinely friendly with someone, and he is someone quite difficult to deal with.

It's known that he has lived since Victorian times, about his work form at that time and some experiences he had in the past, but he doesn't speak about his origin or if he does know another SCP (he mentioned that he knows of the existence of SCP-035 for having both lived around that time).

He's very uncooperative and it is common to see him pretending to be the smart one just to come out with "If you free me, I'll tell you", in fact: he doesn't like being contained and it's normal to see him from time to time trying to attract someone to escape.

— He don't like being called by the number assigned to; the Foundation ignores this anyway.

— When he got caught, a lot of jewelry he was wearing was confiscated.

— It's very rare to see him lose his temper, he will always maintain a clean and impeccable image.

— If you come to insult his image, it's common for him to act passive aggressive towards you.

Thanks to one of my friends for helping me traducing this 💕

[poimandresnous]

Lectio Divina and How That Looks in My Praxis

Lectio Divina is a Christian meditative practice within the mystical circles of the faith. It is Latin for “divine reading.” These more esoteric interpretations and scriptural practices were believed to stretch as far back as the 3rd century CE by Origen of Alexandria (185CE—253CE). The four-step method we know today was formalized by the Christian monk Gugio II in the 12th century. Not sure when the fifth step was added, but given that Gugio was a monk, I guess it makes sense why he would stop just at four.

So, when diving into wordy, philosophical texts such as the Dao de Jing, or Corpus Hermeticum, one may obviously want to pursue these texts from an analytical and intellectual perspective. While that kind of point of view has its time and place, it indeed “misses the mark,” so to speak, on what and how these texts should be read and experienced.  Now Hanegraaff proposes that early academics viewed the Hermetic corpora as nothing more than a “literary phenomenon” with no actual practitioners. This was obviously due to how these texts didn’t seem to have canonical views and that the texts do not display a dogmatic structure resembling something like Christianity or Islam. He proposes that there was indeed a Hermetic Spirituality rather than some modern example of a “school of hermeticism” with many students diligently copying notes. This is evident in the only known “Hermetic practitioners” we can name today: Theosobia, Zosimus, and Iamblichus. We indeed see that Hermeticism was just as practical and involved much praxis as philosophical thought.  I can’t say much about the scholarship in Daoism, but we have more evidence of Daoist praxis of which is heavily tied to Chinese folk magic.

From the beginning of my journey, I knew Hermeticism was right for me, it took me about a year to really settle into it and solidify my praxis around a Hermetic framework, so I wish to keep it that way. One thing I know that I, and a lot of other people I converse with, sort of mirror traditions and faiths that really embody what a Hermetic praxis looks like, as the evidence for what I have, as a Hermeticist, is that of the teachings of Iamblichus and Zosimos to Theosobia. We know philosophy and reading was prerequisite for Iamblichus in his apology of Theurgy in his Response to Porphyry, but mere intellection alone cannot raise us up to the gods and ultimately to the Platonic Forms. “…for it is not pure thought that unites the theurgist to the gods.” (DM II.11).  For Iamblichus, intellectual pursuits were not the primary goal to us to return to the gods.

To put that off the way, what are the four steps to Lectio Divina as established by Gugio II? They are as follows (Latin on the left—English on the right).

Lectio—Reading

Mediatio—Meditation

Oratio—Prayer

Contemplatio—Contemplate

And the Fifth step is Actio- Action.

I will link another article explaining these steps in more detail, under a Hermetic understanding, as the purpose of this musing is just to reflect on what this practically looks like in my practice. (See my Twitter page for the link).

Before I begin my Lectio, my readings, I start with a prayer. This prayer was gifted to me by a friend many months ago, and I have edited it since then. My version of the prayer is as follows:

O God, teach me gnosis so I may know you in all your holy forms. Grant me the essence of the Prophets’ understanding, the eloquence of their memory, and the quick comprehension of your archangels. O God, bless me with your light of wisdom and quick experience, liberate me from the darkness of doubt, and open the fates of your light, O God of the Worlds.

Likewise, here is a Taoist mantra to recite before you begin a Lectio Divina, translated by a friend from a Taoist Discord Server:

誦經密咒

貪羅鬱羅，符無蘇陀。太沖太極，陰陽抱和。

出有入無，鬼神莫測。出生入死，變化自然。

元始混炁，玄中之玄。上干有頂，下洞太淵。

誦之一徧，沈痾自痊。鍊魂育魄，真陽自全。

齋戒禮誦，萬過飛仙。無上密咒，萬神綿綿。

心中心咒，重得宣傳。貪羅洞盟，與道合真。

玉清上極，梵炁氤氳。分靈布炁，降注臣身。

形神俱妙，變化飛昇。一如令格，統攝萬靈。急急如律令。

English:

"Recite the secret mantra, (the name of the mantra)

The entanglement of desire and sorrow, talismans offer no aid..

Supreme void, supreme polarity, yin and yang embrace harmony.

Outward is being, Inward is non-being, ghosts and deities can’t find or predict it.

Outward is life, Inward is death, it's natural transformations.

Primordial chaos energy, the mysterious center of the mysterious.

Above, reach the celestial peak; below, touch the deep abyss.

Recite it throughout; ailments self-heal.

Refine the Hun, nurture the Po, true yang becomes complete.

Abstinence, chanting, transcend the mundane.

Supreme secret mantra, myriad gods abound.

The mind that stays centered and be with the mantra, will attain the state of legend.

The net of desires has holes, united with the true Tao.

Jade purity ultimate ascent, Silence energy pervades.

Share spirit and give energy, descend it down to my body.

Form and spirit are both wonderous, transformations soaring.

Unified like the command, encompassing myriad spirits.

Please follow my orders."

These prayer are only said with the purpose that I will be “divinely reading” a chapter from the Corpus Hermeticum or Dao de Jing.

After reading a chapter from either text, I will meditate on them. The way it is described within the Christian tradition, this looks like after just basely reading the texts, you revisit the quotes and passages that didn’t make much sense or the passages that resonate with you, and the goal is to explore those feelings that are invoked in the reading. Here, I employ an act of pondus, Latin for pondering. This stage of the Lectio Divina in my praxis involves much emotion and self-reflection brought about by revisiting and further pondering those chapters and passages I have just read.  

After my meditation, we enter the Oratio (prayer) step. I repeat the same prayer from above and further pray; since today is Tuesday, and I honor Anpu on Tuesday, I will continue with prayers in accordance with the great god of the scales. I observe a deity every day of the week, as this helps me keep my praxis more organized than praying to many deities every day. These prayers will include pre-written and informal ones to the god to help me further understand the words I have just read and meditated on.

Next, we come into Contemplatio. The way this looks for me is after reading a chapter and further pondering the passages that struck me as odd or true, I equip my shroud and gown, sit in the dark with earplugs, close my eyes, and meditate and sit with those words. So if I finish reading chapter 37 of the Dao de Jing, the terms and phrases I have underlined, such as: “Listen, with this unvarnished simplicity without a name, there will be no desires. Without desires, there will be peace, and all under heaven will be settled independently.” I will meditate on these words, silently reciting them repeatedly for 10-20 minutes.

When the rain noises on my phone alert me to return to my senses and close out the Cotemplatio stage, Gugio II would have me stop here. But like I said, there is a 5th step to this Lectio Divina Process, and I’m not sure when this 5th step was added. Regardless, I now enter the Actio phase. How does one put these words that we have effectively eaten, chewed, sat with, and digested into action?  This four-step process brings about a great humility of the heart and soul. So when one effectively participates in a “Divine Reading” as prescribed with the guidelines proposed by Gugio II, this great humbling leads to greater and more discoveries of the Self, I purpose. As I’m struck with a great sense of humility, I am called to act for myself and better myself. Let’s return to chapter 37 of the Dao de Jing, how to be “without desire” in the mundane, everyday world?  Whenever I’m struck with great passions and desires, whether positive or negative, I refer to the simplicity of reciting surahs and Hermetic maxims to help me return to a “desireless” state of mind. To what degree do I come “desireless”? Well… it’s not much. But the purpose here is to actively take our readings and intellects and apply them for something greater than ourselves, something ineffable and so transcendent it can’t be spoken of; for even the one who has come to understand The Great, i.e., God cannot speak on it. (SH 1)

[kemetic-dreams]

Conner has done a great job of explaining how and why Jesus apeared to be a sorcerer or magician, as well as shedding light on one of the major reasons the Pharisees were perecuting him. Having spent time in Egypt, land of Egyptian Magick, where he also met Mary Magdalene, a Temple Priestess in the huge Alexandrian church (run by John the Baptist no less), he returned to his homeland (after spending 20 years in Egypt) where he had learned some basic tricks of the Magicians there. Jesus was not a sorcerer per se, it is just that the way he did his miracles looked like the way the Egyptian Magicians did it -- spitting (twice according to Mark) to give the blind man sight -- would not The God just speak the healing, or touch the man's forehead... why spit in the dirt? This is all better explored and exapanded on in Hegland's book Anunnakki Endgame III which goes into the backstpry of Jesus, Mary, John the Baptist, Paul and the creation of the New Testament (NT). Hegland also shares that he had the advantage of a Jewish Rabbi to explain scenarios in the NT and the Wedding at Cana is a real surprise. Key to the whole overall backstory is what the Piso Family in Rome was up to, and unfortunately Conner is not (yet) aware of that side of the story, but Hegland exposes it and connects the dots. You really need both Connor's and Hegland's books to get the whole picture... one expands the other.

‘Jesus the Sorcerer’ gets a ‘5’ just for putting ‘Jesus’ and ‘Sorcerer’ in the same sentence and title while being one of the very, very few to step into the huge footprints of Morton Smith (‘Jesus the Magician’). Conner doesn’t just repeat Morton’s focus on the pagan and Jewish witness of Jesus but rather does a better job on all the contemporary historical-critical issues of the New Testament ( a la Bart Ehrman) as well as a more complete comparison with the Greek magical papayri. Conner even extends his analysis to Paul who he dismisses as “concerned only with convincing”, Clement of Alexandria and Origen who admitted to keeping secrets, and early church theologians who were busy cursing their opponents (in good Egyptian magical tradition).

The book also gets a ‘5’ for its comprehensive and insightful Greek scholarship. The Jewish trial accusations against Jesus of “deceiver” and “imposter” are easily decoded as “sorcerer” as well as the accusation in Luke of “perverting our people”. The Spirit descending “on” Jesus like a dove is re-written in Matthew and Luke as “upon” so as to not give the impression Jesus is channeling or being ‘adopted’ at that point. Conner explains insightfully that the ‘Beloved Disciple’ who is “lying against Jesus” often translated in his “bosom” actually can refer to being in his “lap”.

Conner also gets a ‘5’ for his superb scholarship. His footnotes are as long as his chapters, however his chapters are mercifully short. He easily makes the overall point that there is virtually no difference between magic (which he succinctly defines as ‘religion that works’) and Christian prayer, exorcism, miracles, casting lots for the replacement of Judas, and using ‘black magic’ against their opponents. He notes that Luke screwed up using the “finger of God” phrase since it goes back to magical papyri and sorcerer opponents of Moses. Magical techniques Jesus used most often referenced in Mark are using spit, groaning, looking up to the sky, using special words of power, and dramatics. He insightfully recognizes that the power of Jesus was magical in that it had no moral or personal quality to it since it adhered to his very clothing—and, later the same idea transferred into the veneration of relics. He also perceives that Paul really had an adoptionist theology. Jesus was “appointed” son of God at the Resurrection using several quotes from Romans and Acts.

Conner even ventures into the area of Secret Mark and makes a great case that its depiction of Lazarus being roused out of the tomb and spending the next six days with Jesus in the home of Lazarus before a secret initiation was the original Mark with the current versions in Mark and the Gospel of John being the cover-up. Conner also makes a decent argument that Lazarus is the ‘Beloved Disciple’ of John but does not convince me since the same circumstantial argument could be made for Mary Magdalene who he unfairly consigns to the second century rumor bin.

The book is a worthy companion to ‘Jesus the Magician’ but its biggest failing is taking modern scholarship too seriously in portraying Jesus as a failed end times prophet and keeping Gnosticism at arms-length in the second century. Paul was actually the end-times prophet and his Herodian family and friends who penned the four Roman gospels followed his lead. Jesus was actually a mystery school teacher who taught soul travel as one can see clearly from the Dialogue of the Savior that scholars agree is first century material. The Gospel of Thomas is obviously a crypto-gnostic work of the first century as well since the Gospel of John was so clearly written to counteract it by embarrassing Thomas, saying that you can’t follow Jesus in soul travel, and that all one has to do is believe in the new Logos theology. A 2014 book called ‘The Lost Gospel’ also does a scholarly job of fixing the allegory of ‘Joseph and Asenath’ in the first century as a Jewish-Christian gnostic work about Jesus and Mary Magdalene. All these issues are covered in my book of 2013 on Amazon called ‘The Samaritan Jesus’.

[lecpenni]

LEC RETROSPECTIVE: ASTRALIS

Man, this one's just sad.

So Astralis have had a very unfortunate history in LEC so far. Rebranding Origen, which wasn't the most successful after 2016, qualifying to worlds in 2015 and making it to semifinals with that early Niels/Mithy botlane, before losing it to G2 and floundering around the bottom of the table until being demoted in 2017, and then being accepted as a partner org for LEC franchising.

After 2019's "superteam" lost in spring finals to the G2 actual Superteam, 2020's "superteam" (also featuring Upset, natch) performed basically ok then went 10th in summer, and rebranded to Astralis heading into 2021. Signing an all new roster going into 2021, they floundered around the bottom of the table, going 9th, tied 7th, then 9th and 10th in 2022. But the rosters always had flashes of brilliance with endearing players like Zanzarah, WhiteKnight who had arguably a top 3 lee sin in the world during that cursed Lane Sin period, and Kobbe who was a reliable rock looking for a team to finally step out of the shadow of his prior glories on Misfits and Splyce and his 2020 on TSM which was a disaaaaster. Well going into 2023, Astralis actually kept a surprisingly consistent core of Dajor in Mid, Kobbe in Bot, and Korean support Jeonghoon, previously known as Execute, who made a strong impression early in 2022 on Pyke and Bard, despite being on bottom CL rosters beforehand. In addition, they retained the same coaching staff, which while not the top tier of LEC coaches, you could do a WHOLE lot worse. The new additions were Finn in top lane, who had a... odd history prior to this. Debuting in 2019 Summer as a sub for Rogue, who had a fairly weak roster at that point, before making Worlds with a similar roster in 2020, and utterly flopping as the EU 3rd seed, moving to NA and joining CLG during their worst years ever, then coming back to EU and joining Excel during their most successful year, and missing out on worlds by getting reverse swept by a Fnatic who had a fair amount of promise. And in the Jungle, 113. I think most people would say he's probably one of the worse jungle prospects in the ERLs, and he certainly didn't impress while on KCorp, often dragging his team down. But, with a good coach and team around him, he could maybe impress. Early on, not many hopes were had for Astralis, who were often placed bottom 2 or 3 alongside SK in tier lists and power rankings, due to the slightly underwhelming pickups of 113 and Finn, Dajor's mostly amateurish gameplay and Kobbe and Jeonghoon probably being elo helled again due to this topside.

But against all odds, Astralis managed to not completely shit the bed in Winter! Overall they went 3-6 in winter, which did qualify them for Groups, barely. Losses to a new G2 and Yike on a carry jungler, vs Heretics with a brave ass Fiora pick, Vitality who actually did well in Winter overall, and BDS left them very unoptimistic going into week 3, but grabbing a win over Excel meant they were at least guaranteed a chance for top 8, with an incredibly dominant Lucian/Nami, and on Week 3, a clutch Gangplank from Finn snatched victory from the jaws of defeat dropping absolute gorgeous barrels that completely annihilated an MVP level Exakick on Lucian, and then the game that would decide if Astralis could make it to groups, vs a slumped Fnatic that would end up missing playoffs for the first time in their history. Astralis, against almost all odds made it to groups. You could argue it was off the back of Excel looking completely lifeless and horrendous, and Fnatic having a ridiculously poor season in a meta that hated them, but nonetheless, Astralis overcame them and a rising SK to make it to groups. Let's Goooo!!!! And in groups they shit it goddamn it. A 2-1 loss to MAD Lions, who ended up being Astralis' bane this season, with a genuinely unique and surprisingly strong Cassio/Twitch botlane (it lost anyways), and a monster performance from Dajor and the Botlane in Game 2, followed by getting a win over BDS who hadn't come into their winning ways just yet, anchored by a Kled from Finn, his previous one-trick, and a really damn good Varus from Kobbe, carrying them through to one last try at Playoffs. Who's their opponent MAD fucking lions goddamn it all.

A quick 2-0 from MAD, focusing a Dajor who floundered all series, and a fairly disastrous performance from 113, despite Kobbe's best effort on Lucian left Astralis in a maybe not respectable, but certainly surprising 5th place. They scrapped and fought their way up and punched up for most of their victories, demonstrating a style that maybe wasn't unlike some Asian teams, with a toplaner transitioned around the map to generate pressure, a roaming mid-jungle and a strongside botlane who made sure they were the stars. But most of all, they showed 0 fear on engaging and taking every little fight they could, to generate any kind of advantage. That made Astralis genuinely exciting to watch, but there was an obvious weak link on the roster, and that was Mid lane. Going into Spring, Dajor was out, and the rumoured Mid was none other than LIDER, a player who was often considered a dark horse for most inflexible player ever. The narrative was always that the man would and could only ever play assassins, an unusual thing in high level play, as most midlaners since 2016ish stuck to control mages, with occasional assasin picks or poke mages as niche counterpicks. But honestly? That was never true. LIDER did play mages as and when needed, the man just preferred assassins in the game, and he was still capable of your Ryzes, (with the meta changes) your Annies, your Aurelion Sols, even an Azir from time to time. Yes, assassins were his specialty, and mostly what he played, but the narrative that his assassins were his only successful picks? Just untrue. Spring began with a rough first week. FOR ASTRALIS' OPPONENTS, THAT IS. Taking games over KOI, who made playoffs last season, and the Champions G2, with a LIDER Irelia, and dropping a game to SK, with a... unique botlane of Veigar/Pyke that did NOT pay off. Week 2 went rougher, losing to MAD (i told you) and BDS, who came in with a clear gameplan and a perfect plan on how to execute every comp, and then taking a game off of Vitality thanks to a strong LIDER Asol, and a fairly bad game from Bo on the inverse. Week 3 began with a new look again, as LIDER got his Zed, and used it to utterly dominate midlane and carry Astralis through, basically securing playoffs for the team. A win over Excel, thanks to a LIDER Irelia, and a win over Fnatic with another LIDER Zed, a JeongHoon Blitzcrank secured Astralis their first 3-0 week, and a shot at the top couple spots of the season, placing 2nd overall. A damn good finish, if i've ever seen one. LIDER brought so much to the team, and they looked incredibly strong going into the next round. Some things hadn't changed, like 113's ability to be exploited, but overall this roster look shockingly strong, and their playstyle had been solidified, and bright eyes looked forward to groups. We begin the group stage against the one and only Fnatic, a genuinely shockingly close series for what should've been 2nd place vs 8th place, but an odd choice with Illaoi from Finn lost game 2, alongside a misguided Zed pick from LIDER, and a game 3 that hinged on the success of another LIDER Irelia, which managed to finally pull out the win after a half hour slugfest. Astralis, to be frank, were bleeding. They didn't look anywhere as scrappy or exciting as in the regular season, and their next series vs Vitality, to qualify for playoffs, well... Remember yesterday when I said this series was the one that showed the Bo That Was Promised, an insane mechanical hypercarry player who could demolish a team and turn them into a chinese tiktok montage? Yeah, Astralis was on the recieving end of that. 113 and LIDER got absolutely FARMED by a wukong, followed by a Lee Sin, and that was a deathblow for Astralis' mental it felt like. They had beat Vitality already once, like, what was this? Their next series, since they had already won the one vs Fnatic, was vs... MAD FUCKING LIONS. I told you they were their kryptonite this season.

And despite a Cassio and Talon (?) from LIDER, 113 got hard exposed and dominated by the mid jungle of MAD, ending their season, once again, early. This was a sad moment. Astralis had finally begun to reach the heights of the roster that was promised to them, but other teams started reaching their heights much faster than they did, and simply outclassed them. Over the break for MSI, Astralis was one of few roster to make no changes. They had a winning formula, the 2nd place in spring proved that, and the formula and strategy was locked down, scrap everywhere, fight everything, get lane dominant picks and move Finn around to every sidelane to make sure you couldn't do anything without worrying about where he was.

Well... Summer came. And this is where their story goes from hopeful rise of a plucky young adventurer, to a tragedy that ends with the adventurer getting beheaded by the mighty warlord at the end. Summer didn't go well. At all. Week 1 began with a game vs Fnatic, the team that they beat in Spring Groups, however now sporting a fashionable new Botlane of Noah and Trymbi, who proceeded to utterly shitstomp them. A game vs Heretics with a shiny new Vetheo and Flakked, who proceeded to utterly dismantle a LIDER Neeko, but ending the week on a positive note with one of the absolute worst earlygames i've ever had the pleasure of watching in pro league of legends, vs BDS. Nuc simply walks into LIDER for about 10 seconds letting him fully stack Lethal Tempo and nearly 1v2 Adam and Nuc. Please watch it, it's so absolutely pathetic and tragic for how the rest of the game now goes. Finn also helps by RPing Peak Shanji (the OMG toplaner known for his AP tops like Rumble) in the toplane vs Adam, and you know what. It's not the worst. It was a fun fucking game, but the fact that Astralis only won because BDS managed to completely annihilate their ENTIRE early game by doing that wasn't a good sign. Week 2 came by, Astralis were sitting tied with 5 other teams at 1-2, so not that well off, but they could be much worse. Right now they could be Excel still sitting at 0-3! First game, vs MAD lions oh for fuck sake why did they give Nisqy Gragas. That's like rule number 1 vs MAD since winter playoffs, don't give Nisqy Gragas. Well that's lost. Game 2, Vitality well this should be better, vitality look lost and helpless in almost every game now! And Astralis do it! Another Yasuo, with a Gragas for Finn in top handily sweeps the floundering Vitality, and Game 3 of the week pits them vs G2 aaaand yeah it goes about as well as you might think. The game's an absolute snoozer with 10 kills in almost 30 minutes, but demonstrates something amazing about G2 and something really bad about Astralis. Unless they're running the pace of the game, Astralis generally flounder. And G2 are professionals at running the game at the exact pace they desire. Week 3 comes by, and Astralis are a bit worse off. Now they're only tied with 3 other teams, and they could still make it to groups, but few people have high hopes for them. Some of the people they're tied against, they face this week, and BDS they've already beaten. This should be easy, right? Well they beat SK, thanks almost exclusively to a LIDER Azir, giving them one step up on the competition for 8th, now all they need is:

Beat KOI

SK Lose another game

Well, next game vs an Excel who got their first 3-0 week and look decently strong, they lose. No biggie. Would've been nice to win, but all they need now is SK lose (they didn't, they beat MAD) and to beat KOI. That KOI game was an absolute shitshow. Comp pulls out an off-meta Sivir and reminds the world why Sivir was the menace it was just after the rework, with a disasterclass from JeongHoon on Nautilus. Well, their season isn't over just yet! If SK lose to Fnatic, the First place team with a dominant insane botlane, an MVP jungler and one of the strongest toplaners right now, then Astralis qualify! Well they get a tiebreaker. But they've beaten SK before, it's doable again! That SK-Fnatic game was a nailbiter start to finish. From a surprisingly Humanoid Xerath, one of the most terrifying 4/4 Jaxes i've ever seen, and a ridiculous carry performance from Mr Sertussy, it was an end to Astralis' season. 9th place. Where most predicted they'd end in Winter and Spring. Afterwards, it's announced that due to Championship points, it's impossible to Astralis to qualify for Season finals, meaning for Finn, 113, LIDER, Kobbe and JeongHoon, that's it. Their season is completely over. Unlike Vitality who finished last, they're done for now. Following this was some truly heartbreaking posts, especially from Finn, which I'll show here in its entirety:

Finn spent most of the year playing at a high level, being massively underrated on Astralis' roster, and even arguably on Excel, and to lose like this is really heartbreaking. As he says, At the end of the day 2 teams have to miss out, this summer split it just ended up being us. Astralis' future is unknown. Even before the split, rumours were abound that the org was planning on collaborating with KCorp and making the LEC spot a joint-ownership between Astralis and KCorp, but that deal fell through. Most of these players deserve more shots, but most teams won't be shopping around for new players in the offseason until worlds in October/November. I do hope the best comes for this team and these players. APPENDED: I finished this post at around 3:30PM on Friday, and a report has just come out about an hour ago from blix.gg (read here on this link) that Astralis are considering selling their spot again, and negotiations got pretty far with Saudi Org, Falcons, who operate a french CSGO (now CS2 i guess) starring KennyS. Riot apparently blocked the sale, not wanting a Saudi investment firm to get in. Blix also says that some ERL teams are competing for the spot, and if it does end like this, man that's sad. Yeah Astralis weren't the best team but they had heart and their players were likeable as fuck, with genuinely cool plays and players across their history, even in the most dire days of their history.

[insipid-drivel]

slow inhale

Inverted crosses and crucifixes are not “iconic symbols of Satanism”!!!

The above image? 100% holy. Totally canonical. Has absolutely NOTHING to do with Satan, Lucifer, or “The Devil”. It’s called the Petrine Cross aka The Cross of Saint Peter and is a symbol of piety, humility, deference, and martyrdom particularly to Jesus Christ (not necessarily his other canonical phases of existence) and his relationship with the Pope. It’s also one of the symbols most closely associated with The Pope.

It is one of the main reasons I can’t take exorcist and demon-themed horror movies seriously ever. Not because I’m a polytheistic soul-selling Bandrui (those things are true but they’re not why), but because it’s a continuity error! A hilarious one if you think about it! The demon is just showing how much the characters really don’t understand about the religion they’re espousing in the movie!

So, why would St. Peter be associated with something that, for all intents and purposes, we visually associate with something that is backwards from Christianity or whatever “holiness” means? Because, like Jesus, St. Peter was also crucified, or at least that is the version of St. Peter’s story that is considered most canonical. In truth, stories about St. Peter that still exist date back only as late as 200 AD with the apocryphal “Acts of Peter”. Whether or not the upside down part of the story was canonical hasn’t been determined with any real certainty, but it was the version told by this guy:

Origen of Alexandria! Origen was largely considered one of the greatest early Christian luminaries, scholars, philosophers, poets, and all-around book nerds and is the primary source for the whole “St. Peter was crucified upside down” story, inspiring Renaissance masterworks like this little number by Caravaggio:

“Crucifixion Of Saint Peter”

Origen’s popularized telling of the tragic demise of St. Peter makes a big deal about the story-canonical feature that St. Peter insisted upon being crucified upside-down because he didn’t feel worthy to emulate the same, now-iconic crucifixion of Jesus.

So how did the Petrine Cross become a symbol associated with Satanism?

France.

Well, not all of it, but France was involved. In the early 19th century, a cult leader by the name of Eugène Vintras insisted that he was the reincarnation of the Prophet Elijah. Aside from that, he also practiced necromancy (which is the art of cavorting with DEMONS, not corpses for the love of my blackened, shriveled occultist heart) and was commonly seen wearing robes and symbols depicting the Petrine Cross.

In comes This Guy:

Éliphas Lévi was another famous 19th century French Occultist (after leaving the Catholic priesthood when he was in his 20′s to get drunk and listen to metal or something) who took one look at, and presumably all surviving sketches of  Eugène Vintras, saw his regalia of Petrine crosses, and wrote the literally-damning words that for wearing his inverted crosses, Vintras’ satanic leanings were obvious.

After Éliphas Lévi wrote about Vintras’ wearing of the Petrine Cross and Satanic preferences, the inverted cross gradually became more and more associated with anti-religion movements and, of course, Satanism. The final nail in the Apocryphal Iconography Crucifixion came in the 1960′s-1980′s with the dawn of the horror movie franchise and the rise of the Satanic Panic, a mass hysteria movement that had to be debunked by the FBI where young people and children were convinced by their therapists during hypnotherapy sessions that they had been the subjects of Satanic rituals at the hands of the parents/guardians at very young ages that never happened, destroyed families, left countless people traumatized. FBI agent Kenneth Lanning went on to publish what’s commonly referred to as “The Lanning Report” to debunk the claims of abuse and lambast the therapist that started the panic in the first place.

If you want to really rock like a Satanist, consider donating stuff like feminine hygiene products to your local Planned Parenthood ;)

[lililovesthings]

It's Theory O'Clock! Angels and Snakes.

Good afternoon everyone and happy Sunday!

It's theory time with Lili!

So...I have been looking up some of the literature and lore surrounding angel hierarchies. There are many differing opinions across multiple sources, especially when it comes to the beliefs of the Abrahamic religions.

I have been using my own knowledge and mainly searching through Wikipedia. What I was particularly interested in is 'Seraphim'. Now sources differ as to what position they are in the Hierarchy but generally, they are relatively high ranking. Christian Ideology places them right at the top spot, whilst Judaism places them at number 5, and in Islam they are comparable with "Bearers of the Throne". In another branch of Jewish belief- Kabbalah, the Seraphim are the higher angels in the World of Beriah (Meaning Creation). Very complicated - start here.

In Hebrew, the word Seraph means "burning", however it is also used SEVEN times throughout the text of the Hebrew Bible to mean "Serpent". There are various opinions as to why this is; including "snake's fiery colours" and perhaps referring to the burning sensation left by a venomous bite. Regardless, I think you can see where I'm going with this.

It makes sense for Crowley to have been a high ranking angel before he started asking questions. He knows the passwords, can stop time, still has powers etc. In the first scene of Season 2, as I have pointed out it doesn't make sense that Crowley wouldn't know the universe will be shut down in 6000 years. Aziraphale does know.

Origen wrote in On First Principles that the Seraphim, in the Book of Isaiah, are the physical representation of the Christ and the Holy Spirit. His rationale comes from the idea that nothing "can wholly know the beginnings of all things and the ends of the universe" aside from G-d. Origen concludes this section in writing about the Seraphim as beings that have the knowledge of G-d revealed to them which elevates the role of the Seraphim to divine levels."

I do think Crowley had his memory wiped before the beginning. Also when we see Gabriel's trial, we see it doesn't take that much effort to wipe an angel's memory.

For all we know memory wiping could be done all the time. So not one single being has a full picture of the Divine Plan except for g-d.

Would explain why all these celestial beings seem so confused all the time!

[migratingisaright]

ROSE

-¿Quién eres? ¿Desde dónde y hacia dónde migraste?

Soy un escritor de graffiti venezolano, soy de la familia Caribes, CMS y 031. Migre de Venezuela a Europa.

-Who are you? From where and where did you migrate?

I am a Venezuelan graffiti writer, I am from the Caribes, CMS and 031 family. Migrate from Venezuela to Europe.

-¿Qué es la migración para ti?

La migración es un fenómeno natural en el ser humano, si no fuese a el poder movernos la sociedad no hubiese evolucionado, es decir que uno quiera moverse hace que uno conozca otras cosas y busque otras cosas, por eso para mí la migración es trascender.

-What is migration for you?

Migration is a natural phenomenon in human beings, if we were not able to move, society would not have evolved, meaning that one wants to move makes one know other things and look for other things, that is why for me migration is transcending.

-Relata la experiencia más difícil en tu vida migrante.

Muchas han sido difíciles, entre ellas el alejarte de tu familia, tus amigos tu tierra. Pero en general creo que algo nos sucede a todos y es lo de no entender quién eres en este proceso, porque cuando empiezas siendo migrante no tienes tantos referentes aparte que es un proceso personal y el solo hacerlo y pasar el proceso es cuando vas entendiendo quién eres.

Pero en general uno atraviesa cosas comunes dentro de lo malo, como racismo, xenofobia etc pero creo que esas cosas son inevitables que te sucedan.

-Relate the most difficult experience in your migrant life.

Many have been difficult, among them moving away from your family, your friends, your land. But in general I think that something happens to all of us and that is not understanding who you are in this process, because when you start as a migrant you don't have many references apart from the fact that it is a personal process and just doing it and going through the process is when you begin to understand who are you. But in general one goes through common things that are bad, such as racism, xenophobia, etc. but I think that those things are inevitable that they happen to you.

-Relata la experiencia más hermosa en tu vida migrante.

El poder conocer tantos destinos, el migrar me ha dado la experiencia más grande que es una empatía más global, y pensar que la comunidad migrante y el fenómeno migrante es lo que hace que las culturas sean tan enriquecedoras, para ser puntual mi experiencia más hermosa es entender lo amplio que puede ser los comportamientos de la gente y de esa forma me di cuenta que no tenía que aspirar algo que no soy.

-Tell about the most beautiful experience in your migrant life.

Being able to visit so many destinations, migrating has given me the greatest experience, which is a more global empathy, and to think that the migrant community and the migrant phenomenon is what makes cultures so enriching, to be specific, my most beautiful experience It is understanding how broad people's behaviors can be and in that way I realized that I did not have to aspire to something that I am not.

-¿Qué extrañas de tu lugar de origen?

Principalmente la comida, y el clima. Pero me sucede eso ya con otros sitios también no solo con Caracas, ya cuando eres migrante logras hacer hogar en varios sitios.

-What do you miss about your place of origin?

Mainly the food, and the weather. But that happens to me with other places as well, not just with Caracas, when you are a migrant you manage to make a home in several places.

- ¿Qué mensaje le dejarías a la gente que piensa en migrar o está en ello, y que hoy lee tus palabras?

Hay que tener paciencia, y darse cuenta que hemos vivido una mentira basada en el eurocentrismo, que muchas veces las cosas que tenemos en casa son mucho más increíbles de lo que imaginamos. Pero para darte cuenta de esto es necesario migrar y asi valorar tu posición y perspectiva.

- What message would you leave for people who are thinking about migrating or are doing so, and who read your words today?

We have to be patient, and realize that we have lived a lie based on Eurocentrism, that many times the things we have at home are much more incredible than we imagine. But to realize this it is necessary to migrate and thus value your position and perspective.

[moboxcritique]

A continuation of this ask here:

@nicolexd-boomchuyuwu-wu

JAAAAJAJAJA! 🤣

Estás bromeando? Estás bromeando con nosotros, verdad?

Literalmente preguntaste: "Qué di*blos es esto?" Como si no fuéramos a enseñaros de qué va este blog, que se soluciona con una simple búsqueda en Google o Youtube

Y ninguno de nosotros, los mods, éramos amigas de Mobox, ya que ella ha causado demasiadas enfermedades de origen desconocido como para que ninguno de nosotros siquiera considere ser su amiga

Regrese a la casa club con el resto de sus defensores de Mobox, llorando a gritos por cómo no apoyamos a su "artista favorita" cuando dibujó pornografía infantil

Vuelve cuando aprendas a ser independiente y descubras lo que está bien y lo que está mal, niña

Tal vez consigas alguna medicina para esas enfermedades… O no🥰

English version:

Nicole: Seriously? Are you just looking that up to hurt me? If Mobox isn't your friend anymore it's not my problem, get over it and f*ck off

Mod Cagney:

HAAAAAHAHAHA! 🤣

Are you kidding? You're joking with us right?

You literally asked: "What the h*ll is this?" As if we were not going to show you what this blog is about, which can be solved with a simple search on Google or Youtube

And neither of us mods were friends with Mobox, as she has caused too many diseases of unknown origin for either of us to even consider being her friend

Go back to the clubhouse with the rest of your Mobox defenders, crying loudly about how we don't support your "favorite artist" when she drew child pornography

Come back when you learn to be independent and find out what's right and what's wrong, child

Maybe you'll get some medicine for those diseases… Or not! 🥰