#serenity seraphim

[nyamcot]

girls when they want a sweet treat but they don’t have any D-:

Alternate

read more are the individual drawings!

[hidden-in-heaven]

Hidden in heaven - AU concept

Exploring more of Heaven and the 7 Archangels in Hazbin Hotel 

This AU explores our concept and interpretation of heaven while still being connected to the canon story of Hazbin Hotel.

It roughly takes place currently time, roughly takes at the same time as season 1

HEAVEN

Our interpretation still follows what we've seen in the show, it's basically still the colorful paradise it's made out to be, with it's denizens still bliss fully un-aware of what's going on behind the scenes and down below,

however, now with the additions of our own ideas, with how it deals with its denizens and its main authorities, which is the 7 archangels and the elders, and how they run heaven.

we also added the idea of heavens history, from even before creation.

Eternal Serenity inc.

The Objective of this company the management of souls and the insurance of a paradise environment that Heaven promised. However for each ascended [soul] has their own slight idea of what ‘’paradise’’ is like, each department cater to that ideal accordingly.

the 7 archangels are responsible for running these departments

Elder Council

the elders are comprised of each species of angel in the first sphere and have existed since before existence itself. They were the direct caretakers of the 3 eldest children, however, despite technically being a rank lower than them in the hierarchy the council has a higher rulement over the siblings since they were the main authority and mentors to the siblings. 

[note: there are angels that work directly under them]

Seraphim - Sera [founders of the seraphim sisters]

cherebium - metatron [founders of the Cherebium court]

Throne - Callan [founder of the celestial bodies]

====

main cast

7 archangels

Elders

Adam and exorcist

====

Lore

====

main tags

===

Bounderies

• we have no fucking clue, just dont be weird

• Fanarts and Fanfics: We’re absolutely okay with them! Please tag us so we can see them

• Ship/: We’re also completely okay with them

• Inspo:If you take any inspiration from our designs we’ll gladly appreciate if you credit us

• Again, just don’t be weird

[stolasdearest]

Redeemed!Sir Pentious x Reader ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Not proofread!

GN!Reader

Unestablished relationship, first meeting

The idea sounded.. Bizarre, people in hell wish to get better? Your shocked and confused face caught up to Emily as she laughed loudly before quickly shushing herself, clearing her throat.

You died decades ago and lived a good peaceful life in Heaven with friends, one of them being Emily! You over the years growing close to hyper Seraphim and being her first person to go to when something was on her mind; negative or Positive it didn't matter she'd drag you to a Café and talk your ear full. So imagine the surprise when she came to you a month ago talking about some Hotel in Hell, made to rehabilitate Sinners so they can enjoy life in Heaven.

"the princess of Hell, it was her idea!"

So not an actual sinner..got it alright suddenly it made a lot more sense but you wondered if such an outrageous plan was even possible.

A month later the same Seraphim you call your friend stands in front of you, an extremely nervous and wary snake looking guy fidgeting with his hands next to her.

"this! Is Sir Pentious, He's a rehabilitated sinner!"

Oh, OH! Your face lit up with excitement, sure you hadn't believed the plan would work but he's the living proof right in front of you and you almost snapped your head to him; your energy catching up to him as his eyes snapped to yours a nervous smile as he laughed and waved

"helloo.."

He held out a hand for you to shake, quite polite for a sinner, but you supposed he wasn't one any longer so you grabbed it and shook it; your cheeks aching from the smile you held, you wanted him to feel welcomed

"Y/N! Pleasure is all mine, Sir Pentious"

He laughed as he seemed to loosen up, the tension in his shoulders seemed to fade and his hood unflared, Your smile softening watching him; he was quite cute for someone who seemed to live in hell, his look seemed unique too, you quickly cleared your throat upon realizing you still held his hand; a nervous chuckle escaping your lips as you glued your hands to the sides of your body.

"oh please! Pentious is just fine—"

Without getting another word in Emily chimed in, pushing Pentious towards you and clapping

"I thought you two would get along! And he needs to get settled in so why don't you take him?"

You smirked and raised a brow, looking passed the now flustered Snake

"take, him?"

Emily nodded insistently with a huge smile on her face

"yeah! He needs to get used to heaven and I thought you'd be great for the job"

"isn't that your job"

The girl deadpanned at you,placing her hands on her hips while pouting, quietly begging you to say yes a smile and cheer coming from her as you sighed,giving in

"fine, But only this once because he seems like good company"

Pentious's hands were getting sweatier by the second, his panic shooting up as you grabbed his hand and dragging him away; before his eyes settled on the serene look on your face and the cheerful look of everything around him. This would be fine, he'd be fine, you looked nice, This will be fine.

He followed you around for the day, smiling from ear to ear

A/N : UGHHHH idk if I like this...... Anyway my baby sir pentious, do I make a pt2 with an established relationship???

[kitkatkatya]

emily redesign !!

Im not a huge hazbin fan but I do love Emily. Her design is just so boring in the show (in my opinion). I know this redesign is too complicated to animate, I'm just having fun lol. Also I know that seraphim angels have 6 wings but I think it would be fun if all her wings only appeared in her full angel form. ( Which Ill hopefully get to draw soon!! )

ALSO I'm renaming her Serenity because Emily is boring sorry lol. Ok I've yapped enough.

[pupsmailbox]

ANGELIC︰DEVINE ID PACK

NAMES ⌇　abel. acher. achille. adam. adrien. adélie. aelin. alaida. alexis. alice. alya. ambroise. amelia. amour. ana. anahera. andras. angaile. ange. angel. angela. angelesse. angelette. angelica. angelina. angeline. angelique. angelissa. angelita. angeliza. angella. angelo. angelus. angelyna. angie. angé. angélique. anna. antoine. apolline. ariel. astrid. aurora. aurore. azazel. baal. behemoth. berrie. bethany. blaise. blanche. blanchesse. blanchette. blushe. bowette. cain. caleb. camille. capucine. carmen. cary. casimir. cassandra. cassiel. castiel. cathy. celeste. celestine. celine. cerberus. cerise. charmeine. cher. cherie. cherub. choirette. christian. christine. chérie. cielo. claire. claude. cloud. cloudisse. cynthia. cyril. daisy. damien. damon. danni. dina. divina. divinesse. divinette. divinne. donovan. dova. dulcengel. eden. elena. elouan. elysia. emmy. engel. enzo. erebus. eryn. estelle. esther. evangelina. evangeline. evangelista. eve. faith. felix. fiacre. fleur. fortune. francette. francis. gabriel. gabriella. gaby. gemini. genesis. ghoul. giselle. godefrey. grace. gwenaël. halo. heartette. heather. heaven. heavenelle. heavenesse. hel. helena. henri. hera. honoré. hyacinthe. icha. isaac. isabelle. isidore. jacques. jade. jennifer. jin. jocelyn. jordan. joseph. josephina. julia. kage. karine. kasdeya. katie. kenzo. keres. kilian. lacey. lambise. lamia. laura. leila. leilani. levi. leviathan. liam. lightion. lilia. lilin. lilith. lola. louis. lucia. lucien. lucifer. léo. madeleine. madeline. malachi. malvina. mal’akhi. marc. mare. marie. marin. marine. mary. mateo. maxime. melantha. michael. michelangelo. michelle. minerva. mirabelle. morgan. moros. nadia. narcisse. nazaire. nicholas. noah. noelle. octave. océane. odin. olivia. onyx. ophelia. orpheus. pheobe. pinkette. pinkion. piérre. priscilla. prosper. rainier. ramiel. raphael. ravana. raymond. robin. rogue. rosaire. roxxane. ruby. rue. ruelle. rémi. sabel. salome. salomon. samael. samuel. sara. sephora. sephtis. sera. seraph. seraphim. seraphina. seraphine. serenity. seth. skye. soan. softetta. sol. sonata. sophia. soraya. strawbette. sugarette. sylvain. sylvianne. séraphin. tatiana. theodore. timothee. tristan. uriel. ursula. valentine. valerie. venetia. vera. victor. victoria. victorien. vionetta. virtue. vivian. vivien. willow. wingette. wolf. xavier. xela. yann. yasmine. yvette. zacharie. zoe. ángel. ánxela. éloi. étienne.

PRONOUNS ⌇　abo/above. adore/adore. ae/ae. ae/aer. an/angel. angel/angel. angelic/angelic. arch/angel. archangel/archangel. arrow/arrow. aura/aura. ay/aym. ballet/ballet. beau/beau. beauty/beauty. being/being. beloved/beloved. black/black. bless/bless. bless/blessing. blessing/blessing. bloom/bloom. blue/blue. bow/bow. broke/broken. bun/bun. celeste/celestial. celestial/celestial. cher/cher. cherub/cherub. cherub/cherubim. chirp/chirp. choir/choir. clou/cloud. cloud/cloud. cold/cold. cross/cross. crown/crown. cu/cupid. cupid/cupid. curse/curse. dark/dark. deity/deity. delicate/delicate. div/divine. div/divinity. divine/divine. dove/dove. drift/drift. empty/empty. er/ero. ero/ero. ethe/ethereal. ethereal/ethereal. ey/eyr. fai/faith. faith/faith. fall/fall. fall/fallen. fate/fate. faun/fauna. feather/feather. flight/flight. float/float. flower/flower. fluff/fluff. fly/flight. fly/fly. glow/glow. gold/gold. grace/grace. gra/grace. grudge/grudge. hae/haer. ha/halo. halo/halo. harp/harp. he/hym. hea/heaven. heal/heal. heart/heart. heaven/heaven. heaven/heavenly. hell/hell. hol/holy. holy/holy. hush/hush. hx/hxm. hy/hym. hymn/hymn. id/idol. ix/ix. kind/kind. kyr/kyr. lace/lace. lamb/lamb. life/life. light/light. lo/love. lyr/lyr. lyre/lyre. melancholy/melancholy. metallic/metallic. mirror/mirror. mist/mist. misty/misty. mon/mon. moral/moral. omen/omen. peace/peace. perfect/perfection. pink/pink. pure/pure. pure/purr. radiant/radiant. ribbon/ribbon. rose/rose. sacred/sacred. saint/saint. scept/scepter. self/self. ser/seraph. seraph/seraph. seraph/seraphim. shimmer/shimmer. shine/shining. shx/hxr. silk/silk. sin/sin. sing/song. sky/sky. smite/smite. snake/snake. snow/snow. soar/soaring. soft/soft. somber/somber. sorrow/sorrow. spark/sparkle. spirit/spirit. sugar/sugar. swan/swan. sweet/sweet. taint/taint. tether/tether. thorn/thorn. thxy/thxm. thy/thyn. tru/trumpet. unholy/unholy. unknown/unknown. vae/vaer. val/valentine. vio/vior. water/water. white/white. wi/wing. wing/wing. wraith/wraith. wrath/wrath. yellow/yellow. ðe/ðim. þe/þim. ȝe/ȝim. ☀️ . ☁️ . ⛪ . ✨ . ⭐ . 🐑 . 👁️ . 👼 . 🕊️ . 🕯️ . 😇 . 🤍 . 🦢.

[deathbxnny]

Jing yuan, blade and dan heng with a columbina s/o?? Like from the few descriptions and leaks we got from her, someone that appears innocent, pretty and a bit airheaded and absent minded but is extremely dangerous and feared for their powers and abilities (I assume it's manipulating people's mind and conciousness?) Also they're a fallen angel/seraphim and they love randomly putting their heads on their lap and singing

-----♡

A/N: Hello! I absolutely love Columbina! Her singing in the trailer was so ethereal! Thank you for the cute request!<33

Content: Fluff, established relationship, columbina like reader, mentions of mind control/violence(?)

Reader has no set pronouns!

((Not fully proofread))

-----♡

》Dan Heng

He quickly noticed, that there was something off about your demeanor, yet also didn't care much about it. He loved you either way and never asked any questions about the sinister darkness inside of you. Why would he anyways, when you were so kind and good to him?

He loves it, when you sing for him, even if he never says that out loud. His hand would absently comb through your hair, as he reads a book and listens to your sweet melodies. He feels honoured, that he can do so and that you are comfortable enough to do this with him.

He may never say it outloud, but he's impressed by your abilities and even secretly in awe. He feels proud to have such a strong s/o and yet still makes sure you're never in any danger, even when knowing how strong you are. He just loves you too much.

-----♡

》Jing Yuan

He knows all about you and your sinister abilities, yet acts fully unaware of it. He doesn't find it as important and usually just avoids it for your sake, mainly because he enjoys seeing how cute and kind you are to him. Your abilities just make you more adorable in his eyes.

He loves to have you sit on his lap in his office, whilst you serenade him with your beautiful tunes and melodies. He doesn't care if it distracts him, in fact, please distract him more if you'd like. If it makes you happy, then he'll gladly ignore all his duties for you.

He's very impressed by your abilities and jokingly asks you, if you've perhaps controlled him into falling in love with you. Not that he'd mind, as he's convinced that he'd always fall in love with you no matter in what way. He also brags about your strength and power to anyone who cares to listen. He's just way too whipped for you.

-----♡

》Blade

He enjoys your seemingly calm and serene demeanor, but the sinister layer to your soul is something he may be even addicted to. He loves everything about you and your abilities, which makes him sometimes wonder if you were the one who made him this obsessed with you. Not that he cares nor really believes it. His loyalty and love for you runs deeper, than any ability could replicate.

He won't ever outright say it nor request it directly, but he loves it when you sing for him. He shows it by allowing you to lean against him or letting you lay your head on his lap, whilst he polishes his sword. He likes to close his eyes for a moment during your songs, just to relish in the small moment of peace it gives him.

He's very impressed by your abilities, even if he doesn't let it on. But fighting next to you makes him feel even more powerful and stable. He's proud to have such an extremely powerful s/o at his side and shows his gratitude by protecting you with all he's got, even if you don't need it.

-----♡

A/N: I hope this was alright! Thank you again for the request!<33

[littlest-w01f]

Chapter Twelve

Series Masterlist

Cw: Survivor's guilt, self harm

The sun was shining as Rheana sat in the house of winds, with Seraphim over her lap. Its blade gleamed like liquid silver under the sun's glow. With a soft cloth, Rheana carefully wiped away at it, her fingers tracing the intricate engravings that adorned the weapon's hilt. As Rheana carefully cared for the blade of Seraphim, she smiled, remembering how she had written how to take care for weapons long ago, the warm sunlight streaming through the windows of the House of Winds danced across her face, casting a gentle glow upon her tanned features.

Those captivating, soulful depths of her deep violet eyes seemed lost in thought as she worked, her slender fingers moving deftly along the razor-sharp edge of her trusted companion. The rhythmic clinking of steel against stone filled the air as Rheana meticulously sharpened Seraphim's blade. Her focus was unwavering, each stroke deliberate and precise.

Manually grinding down the edges of her sword using whetstone. Starting off with coarser grit stones then gradually move on to finer ones until she achieved the desired sharpness. Letting gravity help her through it.

Rheana continued her meticulous work, her gaze never leaving the blade. Each careful stroke brought forth a slight hiss of metal meeting stone, the sound harmonizing with the rhythm of her heart. The cool touch of the whetstone against her skin contrasted sharply with the warmth of the sun on her back.

In times like these, she truly missed her Valkyrie companions, days of being a Blade and Valkyrie, of honing her own darkness, turning it into Seraphim, it was all so many centuries ago, yet seemed like yesterday.

Memories flooded back to Rheana as she continued polishing Seraphim's gleaming surface, the thunderous roar of battle, the rush of adrenaline coursing through her veins, the intoxicating scent of blood and sweat mingling in the air. She recalled the fierce camaraderie among her fellow Valkyries, their unbreakable bonds forged in the crucible of combat.

Rheana's mind wandered to Tanwyn, her closest friend and confidante, with whom she had shared countless adventures and secrets. They had stood side by side, blades drawn, facing down the most formidable foes. Rheana gazed out the window at the serene landscape, she couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia for those bygone days of glory and sisterhood.

She forced herself to think of the tasks at hand, Kallos had returned from delivering her letter to Tarquin, thought they came back without a reply, Rhysand had taken Feyre to the Weaver, she hoped Feyre would not suffer the full wrath of Stryga. When she realised that their mother had given up the ring to her, Rheana had tried to get it back, only to barely escape with her life. She had been young and stupid back then, but she was sure if she were to go against her again, she might have better odds, since now she was equal parts a cocky Illyrian and a cocky Valkyrie.

Rheana's lips curled into a wry smile at the memory of her younger self, brash and impulsive, eager to prove herself. But life had taught her the value of patience, strategy, and measured action. Now, as she tended to Seraphim, her thoughts turned to the present predicament. Rheana set aside the whetstone and examined Seraphim's edge critically.

And the Dark sword glowed, as if happy. Seraphim hummed softly, its dark metal pulsing with otherworldly energy as it responded to Rheana's attention. The blade seemed almost sentient, craving the bond between wielder and weapon. In the House of Winds, the atmosphere grew charged, as if the very air vibrated with the sword's power.

Rheana felt an inexplicable thrill course through her veins, a primal connection to the weapon that transcended mere craftsmanship. It was as if Seraphim yearned for the chaos of battle, the clash of steel, the heat of spilt blood, just like the very darkness in her that she used to forge it. The desire for destruction simmered beneath its gleaming surface, waiting to be unleashed once more.

"There there," Rheana tutted at the weapon of mass destruction as if it were a docile pet. The sword's thrumming subsided slightly, though the dark aura surrounding it remained palpable. Rheana could sense its eagerness, the hunger for violence and mayhem that dwelled within its core. It was a reflection of her own nature, the shadowy aspects she kept leashed, lest they consume her entirely.

She soon got distracted by Cassian and Amren bickering, Amren looked in the right mind to kill Cassian, he for sure had made another joke about her height.

Amren shot Cassian a venomous glare, her petite frame quivering with indignation. "How dare you!" she seethed, her voice low and deadly. "I'll have you know, I could snap you in half like a twig."

Cassian held up his hands in mock surrender, a mischievous glint in his hazel eyes. "Easy there, little one. I was merely jesting." He chuckled, clearly amused by Amren's ire.

Rheana rolled her eyes, exasperated by their antics. "For the love of Mother, can you two keep it civil?"

Rheana watched the exchange between Amren and Cassian with a mixture of amusement and unease. Amren's fury was palpable, her petite frame practically vibrating with rage as she hurled insults at the smirking male. Cassian, ever the provocateur, seemed to revel in riling up the ancient female, his eyes sparkling with mischief even as Amren threatened him with all manner of creative tortures.

As the argument reached a fever pitch, Cassian reached for his knife at his thigh in an attempt to intimidate Amren, who looked raging at his attempt, Rheana intervened, her voice cutting through the verbal sparring like a blade. "Enough." The single word carried the weight of command, honed by centuries of leadership. Both Amren and Cassian fell silent, turning to face her with varying degrees of contrition and defiance.

Rheana fixed them with a stern look, her violet eyes flashing with annoyance. She paused then, "I smell... meat," Her nose crinkled, "Not the good kind."

Just then Rhysand and Feyre landed on the floor, Rheana gaped at the state Feyre was in, covered in greasy meat, fats and hair, clearly from the weaver's chimney.

"You smell like barbecue," Amren cringed, her nose crinkling.

Feyre's clothes were stained with grease and ash, her hair matted with soot. The scent of charred flesh hung heavily around her, a pungent reminder of the ordeal she'd endured.

Rhysand, meanwhile, appeared relatively pristine compared to his mate, though there was a certain smug satisfaction in his demeanour. He took in the scene with a casual air, his violet eyes twinkling with amusement. "I see our little adventure was successful," he remarked, a sly grin playing on his lips.

Rheana exchanged a glance with Rhysand, concern etched into her features. "What happened?" she asked, her voice laced with worry.

"You kill her?" Cassian asked at the same time. A little more smug.

"No," Rhysand was the one to answer, "But given how much the Weaver was screaming, I’m dying to know what Feyre darling did."

Before Rheana could ask Feyre if she was alright, she threw up all over the floor. Feyre retched violently, expelling the contents of her stomach onto the polished floorboards. The acrid stench of bile and partially digested meat filled the room, causing Cassian to swear at the sight

Rheana rushed to Feyre's side, supporting her as she continued to heave. "Easy there," she murmured, her brow furrowed with concern. "Take your time. Breathe."

Feyre coughed and spat, wiping her mouth with the leather on her shoulder. When she finally straightened, her face was pale and streaked with tears, but there was a fierce determination burning in her eyes. "I'm fine," she rasped, her voice hoarse. "It's done."

With a wave of her hand, Amren cleaned both the bile and Feyre, as Rheana winnowed a glass of cold water for her to sip on. The water was a welcome relief, soothing Feyre's parched throat and helping to settle her queasy stomach. She nodded gratefully towards Amren, who had effortlessly banished the mess from the floor. Despite her efforts to appear strong, Feyre's body trembled with exhaustion, each breath she drew seeming to come with effort.

Meanwhile, Rhysand leaned against the wall, arms folded across his chest. His violet eyes roamed over Feyre with an unreadable expression, though a hint of pride flickered within their depths.

"She… detected me somehow," Feyre managed to say, as Rhysand led her to the large black table. "And locked the doors and windows. So I had to climb out through the chimney. I got stuck," Cassian's brows rose at the words, "and when she tried to climb up, I threw a brick at her face."

Rheana snorted, "I would've paid to see that."

Amren glared at Rhysand "And where were you?"

"Waiting, far enough away that she couldn’t detect me." Rhysand said simply.

Feyre was snarling at him, "I could have used some help."

"You survived," he shrugged, and Rheana knew that had Feyre needed help, he would've gone against the Weaver himself, damn the consequences, she felt that through their bond, those tattooed letters on their respective hands. "And found a way to help yourself."

"That’s what this was also about," Feyre spat again. "Not just this stupid ring," She reached into her pocket, slamming the ring she had been carrying all along down on the table, "Or my abilities, but if I can master my panic."

Rheana froze seeing her mother's mating ring, the one around her neck, her father's, seemed to hum at the closeness, those rings were each other's other halves, just like their parents had been to each other.

"What creature is that?" Feyre whispered unceremoniously the next afternoon as Rheana opened the door to her room to let Feyre in, Mor already sitting on her bed, Feyre's eyes on Kallos, the beast sat on a plush chair, licking their scaly paws.

"Don't ask," Rheana said simply, "They are more easily pissed off than Amren." She added as a warning.

Kallos turned their reptilian head, fixing Feyre with a piercing stare from eyes that glinted like polished obsidian. For a moment, the only sound was the soft rustle of scales and fur as the creature shifted their position, muscles rippling beneath their dark hide. Then, in a display of feline-like grace, Kallos unfolded themself from the chair and padded silently over to Feyre, its tail swishing lazily behind it.

Rheana watched closely, ready to intervene if necessary, Kallos hissed softly, ears flattening against their skull as Feyre's gaze settled upon them. The creature's body glittered under the sunlight filtering through the window, a dangerous mix of hues that promised pain and death to those foolish enough to cross them.

Kallos's hiss was low and menacing, yet there was something almost curious about it as if the creature was intrigued rather than wanting to threaten Feyre. Slowly, they approached, their movements deliberate and unhurried. They stopped mere inches away from Feyre, their gaze never leaving hers.

Despite herself, Feyre found herself reaching out tentatively, her fingers hovering just above Kallos's scaly head. "They're beautiful," she whispered, her voice barely audible but the fae heard her loud and clear.

"They can sense your power," Rheana provided with a smile, "Well, we all can, but for them, it's more prominent. And with that complement, I think you earned petting privleges."

Kallos, on instinct, pressed their head in Feyre's hand, making the female smile. The creature seemed to enjoy the attention, closing their eyes and letting out a low purr. Feyre stroked their head gently, careful not to pull too hard on the scaled ears. She marvelled at the intricate patterns on Kallos's skin, the myriad shades of black that shimmered beneath her touch.

The gesture was unexpected, even to Feyre, but she didn't hesitate to respond. Her fingertips traced the contours of Kallos's head, feeling the rough texture of scales beneath her touch. It was an odd sensation, foreign and fascinating all at once.

A purr rumbled from Kallos's chest, vibrations travelling up Feyre's arm and into her shoulder. The sound was deep and resonant, filling the room with a low thrumming noise that seemed to vibrate on the very edges of perception.

"Wait... Is that a map of Prythian?" Feyre asked abruptly, looking at one of the walls, "What are the markers?"

"Just the places I've been." Rheana offered with a gentle smile, "You can travel too, after all of this is over, Rhys could take you."

"What does one wear, exactly, in the human lands?" Mor asked, digging through Rheana's closet.

"Layers," Feyre said, not trying to show her disappointment when Kallos retreated away from her. "They… Cover everything up. The décolletage might be a little daring depending on the event, but... Everything else gets hidden beneath skirts and petticoats and nonsense."

Rheana wrinkled her nose, pulling out a simple linen tunic and breeches. "Sounds dreadful. How do they move? Or breathe?" She tossed the garments aside, rummaging deeper into the closet.

"Sounds like the women are used to not having to run—or fight. I don’t remember it being that way five hundred years ago." Mor added,

"Even with the wall, the threat of faeries remained, so… Surely practical clothes would have been necessary to run, to fight any that crept through. I wonder what changed." Feyre showed them the clothes she had chosen from her closet, a rather simple top and pants.

"I suppose," Feyre mused aloud, holding up the garments for inspection, "that the threat has lessened with time, or perhaps people became complacent. Either way, I imagine it made fashion more about status and appearance than functionality."

Mor rolled her eyes, tossing another outfit onto the pile. "And then there’s the fact that most of the nobility have no intention of ever lifting a finger to defend themselves. Why bother with practicality when you’ve got a court full of soldiers to protect you?"

"True. It’s easier to rely on others when you’re surrounded by wealth and privilege." Rheana nodded thoughtfully, studying the outfits Feyre had selected. "Hey, that'll look so good on you." Rheana paused, noting the way Feyre held surprise in her eyes at the simple compliment she gave her.

"Nowadays, most women wed, bear children, and then plan their children’s marriages. Some of the poor might work in the fields, and a rare few are mercenaries or hired soldiers, but… the wealthier they are, the more restricted their freedoms and roles become. You’d think that money would buy you the ability to do whatever you pleased." Feyre voiced, stepping behind the dressing screen in Rheana's room, while the female used magic to switch her clothes

"Some of the High Fae," Mor spoke up, and Rheana watched her tell the story she had lived through, of Mor's childhood, of her being treated like a prized mare, "are the same."

"The rest of the story is long, and awful, and I’ll tell you some other time. I came in here to say I’m not going with you—to the mortal realm." Mor said after she was done, Rheana placed a hand on her sister's shoulder in silent comfort.

"Because of how they treat women?" Feyre asked, emerging from behind the screen.

"When the queens come, I will be there. I wish to see if I recognize any of my long-dead friends in their faces. But… I don’t think I would be able to… behave with any others." Mor spoke, standing up to slip away, to Hewn City, Rheana knew it.

"Cassian helped Rhys and I get Mor out. Before either had the real rank, Rhys and I getting caught would have been very little punishment, but for Cassian risked everything to make sure Mor stayed out of that court." Rheana spoke as she adjusted her leathers, "And he laughs about it, but he believes he’s a low-born bastard, not worthy of everything he's achieved, I swear, sometimes I want to shake some sense into him but he won't hear any of it," Rheana sighed heavily, running a hand through her hair. "It's infuriating, really. Cassian and Azriel are two of the most loyal, honourable beings I've ever known, and yet they refuse to see how truly exceptional they are."

"I’d like my sisters to meet you and Mor…" Feyre said as she slipped on some bangles, matching with her earrings and diadem, "I want them to hear your story. And know that there is a special strength… A special strength in enduring dark trials and hardships… And still remaining warm, and kind. Still willing to trust—and reach out."

Rheana smiled, "Well, most people wouldn't believe that, but that means more to me than you could possibly know."

"I’m sorry if I was not as welcoming to you as you were to me when I arrived at the Night Court." Feyre said hesitantly as they made their way out. "I was… I’m trying to learn how to adjust."

"No one here blames you if you're a little rough around the edges, you've been through so much, with Under the Mountain, Tamlin, and quite literally dying." Rheana said softly, wrapping an arm around her, "Besides, there have been moments I've been worse, so I don't judge, but I do appreciate you for appologising."

Rheana was clinging to Rhysand, her back was bloodied, three deep black claw marks on her back, she whimpered and winced at every breath. Tears were streaming down her face as she looked at the mutilated, deceased bodies of her mother and little sister, she could sense her father's rage through the land itself.

Rhysand cradled Rheana close, his hands gentle despite the fierce anger burning within him. He gazed down at the ravaged landscape, the once lush forest now scarred and blackened. The acrid stench of smoke and char hung heavy in the air, mingling with the coppery tang of blood.

Rheana was lightheaded, passing out in her brother's arms, not knowing for how long she was passed out, when she woke up, she looked around where she was, in her room, she couldn't remember a thing, until the searing pain in her back was made evident, then the feeling of dread coiled in her stomach, she sobbed as memories flooded back - the attack, the agony, the horror of losing her family. She felt Rhysand's strong arms wrap around her again, his warmth and solid presence grounding her even as despair threatened to consume her.

"It's alright, sister," he murmured, stroking her hair soothingly. "I'm here. We're safe now. You're safe."

But safety felt like a distant dream, a cruel mockery when grief and guilt gnawed at her insides. Rheana pulled away from Rhysand, as sobs wracked her body, each ragged breath a painful reminder of what she'd lost. She only sensed Cassian and Azriel in the room with her when she tried and failed to catch her breath.

"I should have protected them," She choked out, her voice raw with anguish. "I failed them. Failed as a daughter, as a sister… I am a failour."

"Rhea..." Azriel approached her gently, cautious of the darkness that swallowed his friend whole, he had been crying too, of course he was, he and Cassian had lost their mother figures when Rheana and Rhysand lost their mother, their friend when they did their sister, "It's not your fault."

Rheana gripped her hair hard enough to break the strands, "I failed. I couldn't save them." She could feel her dark blood trail down her back, she knew it would never heal, a constant reminder of how big of a failure she was, "What's even the point!?" She screamed, "Of being Carynthian? Of being the first female Illyrian to be considered a warrior, what with other females look up to when I couldn't even keep mine safe! Who will trust me to help stop clipping when I couldn't de a thing to stop my mother and sister's!"

Cassian stepped closer, his expression sombre, his hand reaching out tentatively to touch Rheana's shoulder but she flinched away. Rhysand was struggling, tears down his eyes as he saw his sister in the emotionally vulnerable state she was in, he didn't even know where their father was, though he didn't blame him, he had just lost his mate, he couldn't even imagine how big of a lose that felt, but he needed to help his sister.

"Shhh… It’s not your fault, Rhea," Rhysand soothed her from where he stood, knowing she needed a little distance, his own chest heaving with suppressed emotion. His heart ached for his sister.

"We will make the bastards who did this pay," He vowed fiercely, his eyes blazing with determination. "And you, my fierce and wonderful sister, will not let this define you. You are a survivor. You are strong. And you will honor your family by living, by thriving."

Rhysand's heart shattered seeing Rheana in such immense pain, his brave, brilliant sister reduced to this broken shell. He knelt before her, taking her tear-stained face in his hands.

Rheana got up again, she now held a knife in her hands, Rhysand swore, knowing she pulled it from him, he watched in fright as Rheana tore at her leathers from the knife, "Rhea-" He tried to use his powers to try to hold her mind to calm her, but all he found was darkness, nothing but empty darkness inside her mind.

"I don't deserve it!" Rheana tore at her top, till she was bare-chested, swirls of ink in her skin, marking her Illyrian heritage, Azriel was quick to move, but not quick enough as Rheana brought down the knife over the tattoo that marked her as Carynthian and winner of the Blood Rite. "I don't deserve any title." Azriel snatched the knife away before she could land another strike at herself.

The brothers exchanged a glance, fear etching lines into their faces. Cassian's heart pounded against his ribcage as he watched Azriel wrestle the knife from Rheana's grasp, the sound of steel scraping against flesh making him wince. But even as Azriel struggled to restrain her, the knife continued to glint dangerously, its edge wet with Rheana's blood.

"Rhea, stop!" Rhysand pleaded, his voice cracking with emotion. "Please, you need to come back to us. To me." He reached out, trying to grab her wrist, but she jerked away, her movements frenzied and unpredictable.

Azriel held onto her firmly, his grip unyielding, holding her close to him, while Cassian moved to stand guard, ready to intervene at the slightest provocation.

"I don't deserve to keep my wings..." Rheana gasped heavily, "I couldn't save theirs."

"You listen to me," Rhysand said fiercely, his eyes blazing with intensity. "This is NOT your fault. You are the strongest person I know, Rhea. What happened… It's a tragedy, a nightmare no one should ever endure. But you survived. And you WILL get through this."

He brushed away her tears with his thumbs, his touch feather-light. "Our mother and sister loved you more than anything. They would want you to live, to fight, to honor their memory by being the incredible female you are. Don't let this break you, Rhea. Please. We need you. I need you."

Rheana stared at Rhysand, her eyes searching his face for any sign of deceit or pity. But there was only love and sincerity shining back at her, reflected in the depths of his irises. A single tear slipped down her cheek as she slowly relaxed in Azriel's grip, the tension leaving her body.

Cassian sat down next to her too, his arm a comfort around her waist as he rested her head on her neck, holding her, Rhysand stitched her clothes back up with his magic, smiling when her tattoo healed itself, the marker wasn't something easily lost, holding her to him, the four of them huddled together

The silence was heavy, punctuated only by the occasional sniffle or soft murmur of reassurance. Yet even amidst the sorrow, there was a palpable sense of unity, of strength drawn from their shared bond and the knowledge that they faced this tragedy together.

As exhaustion began to claim Rheana, her eyelids growing heavy, Rhysand scooped her up into his arms, carrying her to the bed. He settled beside her, pulling her close, his heart aching with every shuddering breath she took.

{General Taglist - @nox-ceur @lilah-asteria @paleidiot @dee-writes-smut @adalia-jaycee @anarchiii @alwayshave-faith @minnieoo}

{Flames and Darkness Taglist- @anuttellaa @tuggboatfishin @inloveallthetime}

[astroyongie]

Angel Work: Introduction and Hierarchy - The Cherubims

Angels are powerful spiritual beings, that can accompany us and guide us through our spiritual life on Earth. We may find angels mainly on monotheist religions such as Christianity, Judaism and even Islam. 

The Kabbalah was the first religious text where Angels are spoken of. There’s 72 angels regrouped in 9 families. Each of these families is headed by a specific Archangel.

This post as a purpose for you to learn more about Angels. While reading through it, you may find and connect with some of them. I would advice for you to choose a family first and then one angel to start your working. But really, listen to your gut and allow their energy to flow through you. 

This trend will have 9 parts, for each family: Seraphims, Cherubins, Thrones, Dominations, Powers, Virtues, Principalities, Archangels and Angels. 

Family 2 - The Cherubim, lead by Archangel Raziel

- The Cherubims have as mission to take care of our health, mostly mental health, they are strong guides when it comes to heal depression, phobias, anxiety, obsessive thoughts, ect. They are seen as angels that are kind and always happy, their energy is like a virus, and they are angels that mostly need to work with the earth and nature 

-  Raziel: From his name Raziel “Secret of God”, the archangel that holds wisdom and defends the universe keeping all secrets away. Raziel is the angel of intuition and spiritual blockages. 

-  Haziel

Magic Color:  Pink and Yellow 

Emotion: Love

Mirror Hour: 02h22

Work With:  Love meeting - Reconciliation - Self love 

Angel Of: Forgiveness, reconciliation and Unconditional love 

Their Energy: His energy is able to calm everything around them, Haziel is linked to the mother earth, going outside on forests is a great way to connect with them, they bring only evolution into our lives. Haziel helps on finding sleep, on reconciliation and removed guilt from our heart. 

- Aladiah

Magic Color:  Green and Orange 

Emotion: Refuge 

Mirror Hour: 03h03

Work With: Healing trauma - Professional dimension - Moving out - Luck 

Angel Of: Healing, Justice and Grace

Their Energy: Aladiah energy is full of creativity so they want to work in that sphere (also music) but they are also such a good energy for healing traumas, to connect with nature and to learn how to become better people. They have influence in Karma

- Lauvuel

Magic Color:  purple and light yellow 

Emotion: Victory

Mirror Hour: 03h30

Work With: Learning - Protection - Awakening - Magnestism 

Angel Of: Victory, Wisdom and Gifts 

Their Energy: For those who live in fear, Lauvuel is there. He gives light, faith in death and live, happinesss. Lauvuel protects against the dark arts, jealousy and bad spirits, he helps those in pain and releasing the dark inside us. He works through writing. 

- Hahaiah

Magic Color:  Purple

Emotion: Refuge

Mirror Hour: 00h04

Work With: Spirituality - Protection - Serenity - Choices of the heart 

Angel Of: Wisdom, refuge and protection 

Their Energy: Prayers call upon his protection and Hahaiah is full of love and kindness, he listens and provides easier answers. He helps in finding love, in repeating your armor and strength. A good patreon for those who have suffered from domestic violences and childhood violences. 

-  Yezalel

Magic Color:  pink and magenta 

Emotion: loyalty 

Mirror Hour: 04h04

Work With: Couples - Conflicts resolutions - Success in exams - Inner peace

Angel Of: reconciliation, love and peace 

Their Energy: Yezalel gives power in manifestation, in words, he is linked to Karma and is able to change things positively. Also helps in love and troubles found inside the couple and he works really through the feeling of love 

- Mebahel

Magic Color: blue and purple 

Emotion: Engagement 

Mirror Hour: 04h40 

Work With: Revelation - Getting better in professional life - Stability - Love 

Angel Of: Justice and Strength 

Their Energy: Mebahel works with order and righteousness so to work with them it needs to be rightful and correct. He helps in troubles with justice, love and spirituality as well. He can also provide help in healing diseases and discovering truths. A good spiritual guide 

- Hariel

Magic Color: Purple and red

Emotion: Purification 

Mirror Hour: 04h44

Work With: Addictions - Guidance - Balance 

Angel Of:  Purity, Freedom and Spirituality 

Their Energy: Hariel is here to help you through thick and thin specially if you are having troubles with addictions and body issues, unhealthy habits. He is a cleaning angel in all domains, that is here to stimulate spirituality and purify you from the inside. 

-  Hakamiah

Magic Color:  Black and Light purple 

Emotion: Loyalty 

Mirror Hour: 05h05

Work With:  Softness - Solving problems - Remove bad people of your life - Promisses 

Angel Of: Peace, Justice and Divine grace 

Their Energy: Hakamiah gives huge spiritual protection to those who work with him, and helps them finding their strength. He is a good angel for those who struggle with mentalhealth as well. His energy is quick and things happen quickly with him and he also helps developing your clairvoyance 

[sentientsky]

Excerpt from one of my gomens fics, in which I reveal that I have abandonment issues (and should probably start going to therapy more often. whoops!):

Three years, eight months, and seventeen days ago, the world had nearly ended. Again. And he and his angel had (with a great deal of help from Muriel) brought it back from the brink of destruction. Again. And when the metaphorical dust had cleared away, the Almighty had found him in the dawn of a new world, all unearthly gaze and shimmering ethereality. She had offered him a complete return to the way it was before—not as a principality or even an archangel. No, She offered him the chance to be as he once was: an engineer, the Starmaker, a seraphim with all of creation at his fingertips and all of divinity at his feet. In a new world, too—one without Heaven or Hell, She promised. He had gripped his angel’s hand tighter, felt him return the pressure in equal measure.

Crowley had leveled his gaze at Her, terrified but unflinching in the face of so much heavenly heat. Like looking into the sun.

He would not leave, would not fall prey to a God that made too-pretty promises. Even if She had let him ask all the questions he desired, he would still refuse, and he told Her as much.

She had accepted this decision with a somber nod. Eyes full of plasma, She’d looked at him one last time and asked for forgiveness.

“My dearest Starmaker, I hope you understand.” A flock of birds flitted across the sky behind Her. He tracked their movement from the edges of his vision. “I am so sorry for all the pain I caused you.” She reached up to try to touch his face.

He pulled back, nearly snarling.

Dreadful memories of falling from a great height flashed through his mind. The taste of sulphur coated the back of his teeth, noxious and terrible.

“You let me fall. You pushed me—for asking questions ,” he had hissed, all venom, all jagged teeth. So many eons of abandonment, of sheer loss…Well, it does something to a not-person, to a beating, not-human heart. You learn to go cold, to slow your breathing and keep yourself boarded up and hidden. Your body learns to react to affection like a rejected organ transplant. You carry on through life scarred and spitting and backing against the wall like a cornered animal. You believe you don’t deserve tenderness. You believe it will ruin you. Because to love, to let yourself be loved, is to turn all vulnerable and underbellied—to show your hand in a game of cards with everything on the table.

And yet…a very young, hands-trembling part of you yearns for it—begs, desperate and hungry and aching, for love. Like a starved dog with all its ribs showing. Like Sisyphus pushing that damn rock, knowing full well which way the hill slopes.

After so long spent in the mires of self-destruction, Crowley would not—could not—forgive Her. For not only the violence inflicted against him, but also against the entirety of a vast universe. He would heal himself—had been healing himself—but he would not give Her the satisfaction of forgiveness. A breeze picked up, tossed scarlet hair against his forehead. He set his jaw, felt his heart slam against his chest.

“I know.” Her gaze softened. “I made a mistake.”

He’d barked a laugh at this, strangled and bitter and full of unspent wrath. “No fucking shit.”

Aziraphale inhaled sharply beside him, and Crowley could practically feel the anxiety burn through his palm. But She made no move. She didn’t pull the edges of reality apart and rummage through the outer reaches of time. She didn’t pull the Book of Life from between worlds and condemn him to the heavy violence of non-existence—of never-having-been, never-will-be.

She only murmured into pearlescent air, quiet and resigned and infuriatingly serene, “I would take it all back if I could. I’d go back. Set things right.”

But she could, he thought, if she really wanted to, of course. She was God, after all—the Almighty. The one who held all the strings, the one behind the curtain, orchestrating the whole damned symphony. Was not everything within her control?

But of course, too much had transpired, too much had been changed in the last little stretch of eternity. And in truth, would Crowley have changed it—pressed restart—if given the chance? His gaze had flickered, momentary, to Aziraphale. From his periphery, he traced the soft line of his jaw, the arc of his curls. He breathed deep and tasted familiar bergamot on his tongue. Would they have been able to replicate what they had now, given the opportunity to do it all over again? How many times does lightning strike the same ground twice?

“Okay.” A beat. A ragged breath. “I hope you don’t expect me to forgive you.”

“I do not. And that’s alright; I understand.”

Thank u for reading!! Here’s the rest of the fic if u want it lol: x

[nyamcot]

Okay sike actually I finished the thing I said I wasn’t going to solely bc I’ve been sick all day n didn’t have anything 2 do 🙁

Sereniti my goo d friend sereniti my pal my buddy (pushes her into a lake on purpose )

[s0ft-d3cay]

Links and all that important stuff

We’re here for a good time, not a long time.

Hello wandering person in my phone and computer, I’m Seraphim, I go by he/they (I'm a trans man) and this is my first writing blog! All my writing will be not beta read, just a heads up. I plan on writing mainly male reader with the occasional gender neutral reader. (I won’t do female reader, there’s more than enough content for you ladies).

My writings will mainly be fluff, playful teasing with angst and a bit of trauma, because why not. I will put warnings on the more explicit ones(fighting, mentions of heavy subjects, and maybe some spice in the future idk yet)

My rules: don’t be homophobic or transphobic. P3dos and detrans accounts don't interact; don't be an asshole or you will be blocked. See something you don’t like then keep scrolling, plain and simple.

All that being said, I hope you enjoy whatever weird word jumbles I make!

Collections of Words:

Shigaraki Tomura(BNHA)->

Intertwined Like Tea and Water(Male Reader)

Terrified(Male Reader)

Horror Movie and Chill?(Gender Neutral Reader)

Gravity of You(Male Reader)

Boxed Reveal(Male Reader)

Small Thoughts and Movements(Male Reader)

Warm Hearts and Soft Eyes(Male Reader)

Tongue Tied By Your Presence(Male Reader)

Tab For a Thought(Gender Neutral Reader)

Kiss Me?(Male Reader)

Our Home(Male Reader)

A Deal Between Devils(Male Reader)

Of Course My King(Male Reader)

Remember(Gender Neutral Reader)

The Eyes of Cain, Love Violently(Male Reader)

Mike Schmidt(FNAF)->

Blood Stained Embrace(Male reader) pt.1 pt.2

Serenity(Male Reader)

Telepathic(Male Reader)

I'll Lend You My Heart While It's One My Sleeve(Male Reader)

Bandaid Kisses(Male Reader)

Worrying Thoughts of You(Male Reader)

The Art of Togetherness(Male Reader)

Leon S. Kennedy(RE)->

Gleams of Blue and Gold(Male Reader)

A Morning of Pancakes and Worship(Male Reader)

One Offs:

Vanny/Vanessa(FNAF SB)->

Game Over(Gender Neutral Reader)

(… --- --- -. / - --- / -.-. --- -- .)

Cbaj/Spzb Spcpqplj(AMGB)->

Gfgf…Kptfq

Vodpnjmh:

Nppmkjhgs Jmefdsjpm epq sgf akpmcjf jm sxp xfflt!!

DISCLAIMER: I do not own the rights of any of the characters I write about, all the rights go to their respective creators.

[askacultleader]

The cult has been all out of sorts! Your wife serene got badly injured, Seraphim wandered away, Kewel converted many followers to leshy, Hundreds of followers perished, the land has been polluted, an illness swept through the cult, most our resources were expended on making you a grave, Levin is dead, a while new cult showed up many people died some lost arms, Reriph died! So many things my lord!

(The Lamb blinks at the anon.)

"... I need a nap."

[trejulty-the-reporter]

Her name is Serene not Serena, get your facts straight!

Seraphim

"I was told it was Serene, but I will double check with her!"

[orthodoxydaily]

SAINTS&READING: SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 8, 2024

august 26_september 8

MARTYRS ADRIAN AND NATALIA AND 23 COMPANIONS OF NICOMEDIA (4th c.).

Adrian and Natalia were husband and wife, both of noble and wealthy families from Nicomedia. Adrian was a pagan and the head of the Praetorium. Natalia was secretly a Christian. They were both young and lived together in marriage for only thirteen months before their martyrdom. When the wicked Emperor Maximian visited Nicomedia, he ordered that Christians be seized and subjected to torture. Twenty-three Christians were hidden in a cave near the city. Someone reported them to the authorities. They were flogged cruelly with cattle whips, beaten with rods, and cast into prison. Soon they were taken before the Praetor to register their names. Adrian observed these people—serene and meek, tortured but patient. He made them swear to tell him what they thought their God would give them for enduring so many tortures. They told him of the blessedness of the righteous in the Kingdom of God. With that, Adrian turned to the scribe and said to him: “Write my name with these saints— I am a Christian also!” When the emperor learned of this, he asked Adrian: “Have you left your mind?” Adrian replied: “I have not gone out of my mind—rather, I have come to my senses.” When she heard of this, Natalia greatly rejoiced. As Adrian sat with the others, chained and in prison, she came and ministered to all of them. When they flogged and intensely tortured her husband, Natalia encouraged him to endure to the end. After lengthy torments and imprisonment, the emperor ordered that the prisoners’ arms and legs be broken with a hammer and anvil. This was done. With twenty-three fellow Christian men, Adrian gave up the spirit under the greatest of tortures. Natalia took their relics to Argyropolis (near Constantinople) and buried them honorably there. After a few days, Adrian appeared to her in heavenly radiance and called out that she should also come to God, and she peacefully gave up her spirit to God.

BLESSED MARY OF DIVEYEVO (1931)

In the quaint village of Goletkovo, somewhere in the heart of the Tambov province of Russia, a remarkable woman was born. She was Maria Zakharovna Fedina, later known as Blessed Maria of Diveyevo. When asked about her patronymic, she said, “We, the blessed ones, are all Ivanovnas after Saint John the Baptist.”

She lost her parents, Zakhar and Pelageya Fedina, when she was just thirteen. Her father was the first to go, and after his death, Pelageya moved with young Masha to live with her eldest son’s family. However, life there was far from peaceful due to conflicts with the daughter-in-law, forcing them to take refuge in a small bathhouse.

As a child, Maria was known for her restless nature and eccentricities. She frequented the church, yet remained silent and solitary, never partaking in games or festivities. Her attire was always a tattered dress, discarded by someone else.

A soul drawn to Diveyevo

Divine providence seemed to guide her path, aware of her future fervor for God. Despite never visiting, Maria often envisioned the Seraphim-Diveyevo Monastery during her labors.

A year after her father’s passing, Maria’s mother died too. Her relatives, with whom she remained briefly, eventually forced her to leave. One summer, when a group of women and girls planned a pilgrimage to Sarov, Maria joined them and never returned home. Homeless and destitute, she wandered between Sarov, Diveyevo, and Ardatov — hungry, poorly clad, and often driven away.

Undeterred by weather or season, Maria travelled in all conditions — through freezing winters and scorching summers, across muddy waters and rainy autumns — wearing only bast shoes that were frequently torn and without socks. Once, during Holy Week’s muddy thaw, she trudged knee-deep through water mixed with dirt and snow towards Sarov. A man on a cart took pity on her and offered a ride, but she declined.

In summer, it seemed she lived in the woods; when she arrived at Diveyevo, her body was often covered in ticks and sores. She spent most of her time at the Seraphim-Diveyevo Monastery. Some nuns saw something extraordinary in her and provided clean clothes to replace her rags. Yet within days, Maria would return in tatters, bitten by dogs and beaten by cruel people.

The humble seer

Not all understood her spiritual journey; some nuns disliked her presence and complained to the local constable to rid them of this “filthy beggar.” Though he detained her, he found himself powerless against her apparent simplicity and released her.

Maria continued mingling with people, often exposing their hidden sins as if scolding them. This candidness earned her both admiration and animosity.

Despite facing adversity, Maria never uttered a word of complaint or despair. Her life of devout humility and patience did not go unnoticed by the Almighty or the townsfolk. It dawned on them that whatever she foretold came true, and those who welcomed her into their homes received divine blessings.

One such instance involved a woman named Pelageya who had lost twelve children before they reached five years old. After two of her children died early in her marriage, Maria Ivanovna visited their village. She approached Pelageya’s window and sang a peculiar song: “Hen with feathered feet, bear children just a little bit.”

Surrounded by a group of women, Maria Ivanovna listened patiently as they remarked, “She has no children at all.” To this, she calmly responded, “Oh, she has many.” The women insisted, “No, she truly has none.” Maria Ivanovna explained, “The Lord has plenty of room.”

Maria Ivanovna received spiritual guidance from the blessed Praskovya Ivanovna, with whom she often sought counsel. Praskovya, sensing her end was near, would tell those close to her, “I am still at the loom, but another is already weaving; she is still walking, but soon she will sit.” Blessing Maria Ivanovna to remain at the monastery, she advised her, “Just don’t sit in my chair.” Maria lived in Praskovya’s cell for only two years.

On the very day of Praskovya’s passing, Maria faced a small trial. Irritated by her peculiar ways, the nuns expelled her from the monastery, warning her not to return or they would involve the police. Maria said nothing in response; she turned and left.

Before Praskovya’s coffin was brought into the church, a peasant arrived at the monastery and exclaimed, “The servant of God you expelled just revealed my entire life and sins to me. Bring her back, or you will lose her forever.”

Messengers were immediately sent for Maria Ivanovna. She did not delay and returned to the monastery while Praskovya lay in her coffin in the church. Entering the room, she turned to the head sacristan nun, Zinovia, and said, “Lay me down like Pasha.”

From that moment on, Maria settled permanently in Diveyevo. Initially, she stayed with Nun Maria until the abbess provided her with a separate room. It was a cold and damp space, especially the floor, where she spent nearly eight years. Here, she eventually lost the use of her legs and developed severe rheumatism throughout her body.

Through fire and faith

Almost from her first year at the monastery, Pasha (later known as Dorothea in monastic life) was assigned to assist her. Initially reluctant, Pasha served Maria Ivanovna out of obedience. Pasha was deeply saddened to witness Maria Ivanovna’s gradual decline into a painful illness and loss of mobility, yet she could do nothing to alleviate it. Only when the number of visitors to the blessed woman became overwhelming did the abbess permit her to move to Pasha’s small house.

Maria Ivanovna spoke quickly and abundantly — sometimes eloquently and even in verse — and after 1917, her language grew harsh. So harsh that nuns would leave the room to avoid hearing it. Once, Praskovya’s cell attendant, Dunya, asked her, “Maria Ivanovna, why do you speak so harshly? Mother never did.” To this, Maria replied, “It was easy to be blessed under Nicholas II; try doing it under Soviet rule.”

The trials of her wandering life, illness, prayer, and receiving people were not enough for the blessed woman. One day, while Mother Dorothea went to fetch milk from a storeroom far from Maria Ivanovna’s cell, she left a hot samovar on the table. Upon returning, she heard Maria Ivanovna screaming frantically: “Help!”

In a moment of panic, a bewildered novice was frozen in fear. While she was away, Maria Ivanovna had attempted to pour herself a cup of tea. She managed to turn on the tap but couldn’t turn it off, leaving water to cascade onto her knees until Mother Dorothea returned.

On another occasion, Dorothea was utterly exhausted. She had spent the entire night helping Maria Ivanovna, who constantly needed assistance “just for a moment.” By dawn, Dorothea was so worn out that she confessed, “Do as you wish, Maria Ivanovna, but I simply can’t get up anymore.”

Maria Ivanovna fell silent. Suddenly, Dorothea was jolted awake by a terrible crash. In the darkness, Maria had tried to get down on her own, only to fall the wrong way, landing on her hand and breaking it. She cried out for help but refused to see a doctor for a splint. Instead, she rested her arm on a pillow and lay still for six months, never moving or turning. Throughout her ordeal, Maria bore her suffering without complaint. After half a year, her arm began to heal, albeit imperfectly.

Those who lived with Maria Ivanovna were trained in endurance by her example. Through obedience and prayer, what seemed an impossible feat became achievable. She even insisted that Mother Dorothea sleep only on one side; if she turned over, Maria would shout at her.

Healing and prophecy in Diveyevo

A true ascetic and a person of deep faith, Maria possessed the gifts of healing and foresight.

One nun suffered from eczema on her hands for three years. Despite treatment from top doctors in Moscow and Nizhny, her condition worsened. Her hands were covered in sores, driving her to despair and thoughts of leaving the monastery. In desperation, she sought Maria Ivanovna’s help. Maria suggested applying oil from a lamp. The nun hesitated — doctors had forbidden contact with oil or water — but trusted Maria’s faith and agreed. Miraculously, after two applications, even the scars vanished...Continue reading Convent St Elizabeth

1 Corinthians 9:2-12

2 If I am not an apostle to others, yet doubtless I am to you. For you are the seal of my apostleship in the Lord. 3 My defense to those who examine me is this: 4 Do we have no right to eat and drink? 5 Do we have no right to take along a believing wife, as do also the other apostles, the brothers of the Lord, and Cephas? 6 Or is it only Barnabas and I who have no right to refrain from working? 7 Who ever goes to war at his own expense? Who plants a vineyard and does not eat of its fruit? Or who tends a flock and does not drink of the milk of the flock? 8 Do I say these things as a mere man? Or does not the law say the same also? 9 For it is written in the law of Moses, "You shall not muzzle an ox while it treads out the grain." Is it oxen God is concerned about? 10 Or does He say it altogether for our sakes? For our sakes, no doubt, this is written, that he who plows should plow in hope, and he who threshes in hope should be partaker of his hope. 11 If we have sown spiritual things for you, is it a great thing if we reap your material things? 12 If others are partakers of this right over you, are we not even more? Nevertheless we have not used this right, but endure all things lest we hinder the gospel of Christ.

Matthew 18:23-35

23 Therefore the kingdom of heaven is like a certain king who wanted to settle accounts with his servants. 24 And when he had begun to settle accounts, one was brought to him who owed him ten thousand talents. 25 But as he was not able to pay, his master commanded that he be sold, with his wife and children and all that he had, and that payment be made. 26 The servant therefore fell down before him, saying, 'Master, have patience with me, and I will pay you all.' 27 Then the master of that servant was moved with compassion, released him, and forgave him the debt. 28 But that servant went out and found one of his fellow servants who owed him a hundred denarii; and he laid hands on him and took him by the throat, saying, 'Pay me what you owe!' 29 So his fellow servant fell down at his feet and begged him, saying, 'Have patience with me, and I will pay you all.' 30 And he would not, but went and threw him into prison till he should pay the debt. 31 So when his fellow servants saw what had been done, they were very grieved, and came and told their master all that had been done. 32 Then his master, after he had called him, said to him, 'You wicked servant! I forgave you all that debt because you begged me. 33 Should you not also have had compassion on your fellow servant, just as I had pity on you?' 34 And his master was angry, and delivered him to the torturers until he should pay all that was due to him. 35 So My heavenly Father also will do to you if each of you, from his heart, does not forgive his brother his trespasses.

[askafterlife]

1: Ignis is Aelaris' and Kaidra's father, the former Overlord of Lust. Sad circumstances made Aelaris take the throne, and Ignis never saw Kaidra after he broke up with the two girl's mother, Helena. When he was alive, many would compare his behavior to his ancestor Asmodeus: apparently, both have a lot in common. He knew Basil's parents, hence why he accepted to take Basil home and take care of him after Basil lost his parents. Ignis acted like a mentor for him. 2: Helena is a celestial dragon and, as you guessed, Aelaris' and Kaidra's mother. She works under the Seraphim's direct order and helps him command the guardian angels along with the protection army. This army is very peaceful, but they do train in case the Infernals decide to attack Caelesti. Helena is serene, honest and caring with the people around her. She has faith about reuniting the Celestials and Infernals and so that all that training will not be used in the end. 🎉Etsy ✨Patreon 💙Discord

[vath-and-such-vinluv-s-stuff]

Lalalina Lemur loves her job, at least that's what she says in the Ads. But on Lousy,really get on your nerves,wagecage worrywart days like these. Even the most sublimely serene Seraphim may Snap,even the most Sane can be driven a bit Mad.

@p-pooky