; INDEFINITE HIATUS. @deusomnium - Tumblr Blog

[ michael ]

”I am well.”

here, a genuine smile creeps upon the archangel’s face. it is such a simple, needless question, but it brings him joy to answer truthfully.

”In your presence, how could I be anything but?”

❝ You will always do me great h o n o u r by speaking as such around and about me, my son. ❞

Smile is mirrored with genuine ease, teeth swiftly flashing in this ephemeral expression of true content. For once in a lifetime, He feels the content that comes with a split second's carelessness.

❝ Your happiness means a lot to me. ❞

#mannukiili #( tl ; modern man. )

[ hêlêl ]

- —he doesn’t believe. isn’t sure because he no longer knows how, or if he’s just so convinced that this - i l l u s i o n is another torment - fresh and twisted and something of a more macabre bent than before.

and regardless of the belief, it’s been so very very long - here… …time stretching out, almost endlessly. seconds, minutes, hours… from a place before time, only to experience it in the creation of the universe, measured by spinning globes and swirling dust and transition between light and dark, life and death. to here - where a moment became almost infinite. so the longevity of solitude, only to be broken by this vision…?

it did — hurt… a pain that wrenched deep - something he tried to smother, pulled against the barbs and chains to ground himself in the real, the physical. to try to distract — and he would say - please… stop… but he’d begged for long enough. would tear out his eyes perhaps. he doesn’t know how though - there was no ‘end’ to things here. to blind himself would only cause reparation. a second sight, no doubt more acute than before. so to ‘endure’ - this - for the sake of enduring worse.

"A b-book which we were never allowed to r-read… One with pages torn and m-missing. One which perpetuates under lock and key and bedded on the shifting s-sands of changing b-boundaries…"

his voice had fallen once more, only exhaustion…

"Then I hope you are only - pleased - with your creation. That you take comfort in this — danse macabre… That you enjoy your front row seats. Watching… Voyeur of the damned, spectator of agony. Bask in your - reflected pain - and pity you - the one who commands, the one who demands, the one who speaks of pain even as other’s endure it b-by your will…”

"I think you not a f-fool… I do think you a liar. I do think you cruel. Unjust. I do n-not… I don’t… I… I do not - think of you - as m-my F-father…”

the sound that ricochets and rattles free is something of a half-choked sob and a manic laugh - skirting the line between grief and insanity.

"I don’t even know if I remember — the light… …it’s so very, very dark here… I wonder if it’s light where He is…”

a musing toward the puppet, the shadow play of his hallucination —

"I wonder if He truly remembers me. Or if I’m forgotten here… Perhaps they have all forgotten… It would be nice… To be remembered. For what I was… Before. I haven’t forgotten Him. Any of them…”

The given counter to words spoken by Him, the Lord— the one who knows all, supposedly ( in this instance, He doubts Himself ), causes for a tautening of facial features and general rigidity to His vessel's body. Hope for a mutual understanding betwixt the two of them, Father and son, appears to dissolve into thin air faster with each passing unit of time.

❝ One afflicted by justice would consider it CRUELTY. I will not further argue who is in the right, here; Metatron has written the words I spoke—— the aforementioned b o o k, for you and all others to read. ❞

A sharp jolt of pain shoots through His system, invisible to the naked eye. It is nothing to translate into the physical; all takes place within the confines of His mind.

I think you a liar; I do think you cruel. But w o r s t of all? I do not think of you as my father.

All turns into a swirling mass of colourlessness then. Not necessarily in the palpable manifestation of this world, but more so in the way in which He perceives the vast expanse of HELL around Him. —— He will not be hurt. He will not let the pitiable ricocheting of His son's ( or is he no longer? ) cut clean through muscle and sinew to pierce the walls of His heart?

Does He have a heart? Perhaps no longer; not for Hêlêl. The many attempts made at laying bare the agony that still taunts Him until this day for him to see have remained fruitless, and they will forever, He knows now. Whatever trace of emotion may have maimed His features up until now sets into a flawless sense of s t e e l; it's as if He no longer c a r e s to pacify His child. NOTHING works. Consider it a flaw of His, the archangel's or both, but He GIVES UP— even if only for now.

Hêlêl will be the sole figure He gives up on.

❝ He hasn't forgotten you. No one has. L o v e is still the primary thing to be felt at the mere mention of your name, Hêlêl. I, your Father, whether you still see me as such or not, choose to relent. There is no pacifying a restless dragon such as you. ❞ A final lowering of his eyes follows. Frame begins to distor; He means to vanish—— and He will, with a flutter of invisible wings after uttering His final words.

❝ I wish you all the best. ❞

#alwaysenduphere #( tl ; post fall. )#{ WE MAY DREAM.#gdi i jusT—#WHY THIS }

[ hêlêl ]

- —he doesn’t get angry. he had been angry - and afraid, and lost, and alone… had grieved and mourned and wailed into the silence beyond, and the only effect had been to provide another target for those chains, hooks capable of not merely nestling into the physical, but the metaphysical, into anything that wrought emotion and passion. digging deep, right down to the core and - tearing them apart.

and if he were to ‘learn’ - then that had surely been his first lesson. don’t feel. because it makes you a target. makes you - w e a k. it’s fallible and a distinct point of weakness. shut out emotion - draw a blank and exist in the neutrality… …but it was hard to stay in the shades of grey, when only one step beyond that was a more peaceful darkness…

"You know, I hadn’t expected it to be you…"

the first vision - the first shimmer of family that was conjured like a phantom in front of his eyes.

"I thought m-maybe… Michael… Or Gabriel… or even a flock of giddy cupid… barbed and r-rusted arrows no less - they’d be a fitting addition to this… creation… this… d a m n a t i o n. I think it’s your m-most… Inventive yet…”

his voice is rough, worn - the musical lilt of the morning-star was already a tone sifted through broken glass and iron nails - no less the constriction of another barbed chain to wrap around his throat - - each word tempting the sentient prison into action, slithering metal like the caress of a deadly serpent, winding tighter, deeper…

"Return? What return could there be after… after this? How could I possibly set foot among my kin? How can I light their way - inspire their faith, return their love when I have none left in me? Look at me… …LOOK AT ME!”

a sudden snap and lash of anger a brittle, guttural sound leaving the archangel’s mouth as the Cage snapped back…

"…R-reflect then… and if I am to be my own - teacher… who decides w-when this l-lesson is over…?”

Years may mean nothing to the likes of Himself and His sons, particularly those born early, yet every day, year, decade and lifetime spent without the brightest of them all by His side, was a unit of time spent wishing that he had been there. The many occasions upon which the Father had caught Himself with the intention of visiting the prison He'd made Michael throw his own brother in had become daunting enough for him to put an end to it—— and here He is; putting an end to the desperate longing of seeing His son yet again. This marks the first time, and likely the last—- at least for some time; another cen- -tury, maybe a millennium.

Of course, it was not expected to be Him to visit first; to lay eyes on the hurtful yet p i t i a b l e sight of one He'd shown weakness and cruelty equally for. Perhaps it should have been Michael; the hand to have cast the dragon into the cage and chains of Hellfire. It would bear a similar sense of irony, most likely—— but that is not what God meant for this situation's undertone to be; irony, that is. There are no secondary motives to his visits and no coincidental sentiments. All is horridly, painfully raw.

Even the cadence of his voice had changed; there is no sweeter cadence of speech than that of an angel, and Hêlêl had lost his. It is not solely to blame on this inventive form of damnation; it is, in truth, his Father's alone. The rules made had been His words and the cage formed had been shaped to His imagination—- but He was and still is not a liberal thinker, and neither should all those up in paradise be. Only humans were to think freely, not his true disciples. Cross that line, and one is to cascade from their safety in Heaven, His archangels being no exception.

Line of thought is broken when yelled at; had all of the rest gone over His head? Can things go over His head, when He is all knowing yet so clueless in the face of all this?

❝ I am to decide when the lesson is over, for you may be your own teacher, but it is I who wrote the whole b o o k from which you learn and reflect as you should. ❞ An inhale of air is taken, though soon again expelled as the dry emanation of the cage is unfit to draw into a vessel's lungs—- lest the alveoli burst and lungs collapse.

❝ I have been looking at you for much longer than you can imagine, Hêlêl. I have seen the way in which your grace contorts and the fashion in which chains maim; I can read how the core of your light fails and picks itself up again over time. Do not think me a fool. I am the all knowing: even when it comes to you, even now—- as much as it may even pain me now. ❞

#alwaysenduphere #( tl ; post fall. )#{ writes as i casually wonder if we'll ever have a not-so-painful thread;#/eVER/ HA }

[ michael ]

Michael gives quiet agreement;

“It has.”

Perhaps he should say more, but he has never spoken to the Father freely and habits are hard to break.

Michael never had been one for freely flowing conversation—— and definitely not small talk.

❝ Tell me: how have you been? I worry for you, at times. ❞

#mannukiili #( tl ; modern man. )

[ hêlêl ]

- —he hears the voice and turns toward it instinctively it’s a mistake. movement just begets pain — chains and hooks twisted around form, through it. embedded in grace and wings and wholly binding…

surely then this was a descent into madness… and Hêlêl did wonder if it would be a long time coming- — - —had tried to hold on to fading sanity as light and hope and faith were abandoned. sooner than he expected it seemed.

mouth opens to speak, but there’s nothing but a cough, damp and ruby stained from a throat raw - spilling prayer and pleading and - s c r e a m i n g into the cold and the dark…

- —”…I’m not… Dead…” cracked voice from split lips and slick tongue. but he finds it once more - almost startled by it, though it remains steady in the face of this. merely another torment brought by the Cage - an illusion of hope and home… simply one more way to break the broken.

"I’d say that was better than expected. But I’m not supposed to - die… Am I? At least… …Not yet…”

The sight of the one He was supposed to cherish, protect and love endlessly, covered in blood, chains and h o o k s as he is, is worthy of the extended silence that followed. It is He who dictated His sons and daughters to love him endlessly; without boundaries and end in sight, as He would them in return——- and does He still. Heaven, does He still.

That is the sole factor that makes the view, this sick play—- this circus of the obscene He has created, so gut wrenchingly un- -bearable to even His seasoned eyes. To witness grace coiling around the harsh material of binds is to relive Lucifer's— no, Hêlêl's fall all over again.

So why can't his Father not simply release Him? Surely, He would have the answer to that, Himself, but concerning this topic, nothing but a swirling mass of possible answers and consequent actions clog His consciousness. For that reason, it's better not to do anything—— y e t, is it not? Acting rashly, based solely on his still conflicted f e e l i n g s could only create a bigger mess than He, in His role, had already created, no?

It was acting on His irritation turned rage that had helped instigate the war that would eventually cost him a son.

❝ No. You are supposed to... r e f l e c t. Learn. There is nothing I want more than for your return, but only under a select few circumstances could that happen—- and even that would require me to bend rules I created. ❞

Another intermission follows. ❝ I am terribly, deeply sorry for my far too delayed visit, Hêlêl. ❞

#alwaysenduphere #( tl ; post fall. )#{ omf thank god;#your reply is incredible as per usual *w* }#blood tw #{ lmfao fuck this HURT. }

[ michael ]

he bows his head in practiced reverence;

“Yes?”

A familiar sight; another reminder of home—- of PARADISE.

❝ It has been some time... ~ ❞

#mannukiili #( tl ; modern man. )#{ wheeze i'm glad to hear it!#thanks for the like to the starter call by the way uwu }

mannukiili

❝ Michael? ❞

#mannukiili #( tl ; modern man. )#{ wheeze i just tend to assume god hasn't seen his sons/daughters for a long time upon first interaction;#bc of his absence anD ALL SO i'm sure this will get longer along the way!! }

alwaysenduphere

Though the fall of the brightest of all had happened several years ago, the wound inflicted upon Heaven ( and the Father of all ) remains fresh up until point. Would that mark His visit to the anti-paradise as unwise, and perhaps even simply foolish? Mayhap, but any daring to offer resistance to God's word and His decision to pay his sole, truly imprisoned son a visit would be e n d e d. Even now, Lucifer will coax a response from his Father that goes against His better knowing.

The final order given to Michael was, in part, one of those things. He is not certain as to whether this was the best thing to do, up until this very moment in time, where he stands in front of invisible bars in a realm that is not for the likes of Himself—- and not even for Lucifer; not for him, as God still pictures him.

He simply had no other choice.

❝ You look... better than expected. ❞

#alwaysenduphere #( tl ; post fall. )#{ kjdfhgdk i hope this is alright!#let me know if you'd like me to change anything/disagree with anything i wrote here uwu }#{ also lmao turns out i didn't need to go out until after dinner sO }

rottingmonsters

❝ You... — ❞ prayed? ❝ — called for me? ❞

#rottingmonsters #( tl ; modern man. )#[ aY i hope this works klsnbfkl ]

( alwaysenduphere )

ψ - — “Then don’t. Turn a blind eye. Set forth your command. But not upon them. It was by my hand, and my will that they came into being. Let the punishment stand with me.”

It wasn’t an unexpected response. As he was granted no - m e r c y - then, he didn’t foresee anything to be gleaned from this - now. But it was not without the attempt. Not without offering. And for them he would try. For them he would give - anything.

"It would serve your ‘order’ more to bring the defiant to heel, would it not? A demonstration to the host that you persist, and prevail, where they could not, where their efforts at bringing forth my destruction have faltered and failed. For where I was - i n n o c e n t - of those accusations…”

Forever maintaining that there was no ‘choice’ in his actions. And upholding virtue, doing as he was taught — what was ‘right’ and ‘good’, being truthful and letting slip that he could NOT - love any above His Father. And so accused - defiant. So condemned. And in this, he would bear no falsehood. He would make no excuse. He would stand - or kneel - before the Creator and stand true to the very same virtue.

"…I am not innocent of this. I was the one who broke your law.”

Contraction of throat, a quick flick of tongue to moisten dry lips, and still he bore his eyes to the ground — looked upon that fading wonder of - C r e a t i o n in each and every snowflake, infinitely varied and stunningly complex, b e a u t i f u l…

"No. Not simply to exist. But to - l i v e. As they cannot now. Secreted and hiding from those which would destroy in YOUR name. Who would bear blood and death and destruction for YOUR glory. As is the wont of the righteous and the faithful. You ask me right from wrong — So I ask you, what is right about the slaughter of a child in the name of a deity who wills not for his children to - l o v e - unconditionally. But only bears consequence and fear. Where there is no salvation for repentance or faithfulness. Only a promise and a duty to be upheld.”

"Eric is good. Kind. Noble. Fierce. Honorable. Diligent. He loves - unfalteringly. Teach them to fear and fight and they will be something to be ‘dealt with’. Because they bear the same conviction and strength of will as both he and I. Allow them the simple freedom you grant every other — to make a choice. To learn. To live with that choice and consequence. Not to wield sword and preach injustice —”

Eyes did flick up then, though he remained on his knees, and there was a glimmer, a fire behind them which only echoed emotion and passion through reason —

"Raise something as a warrior — - - — and do not be surprised when you find that you are at war…”

To enforce His rules is to equally disobey them, He has come to realise over the many, many years. Condemning these two children, these souls ( though twined with grace, He suspects ), to the eternal fires of Hell or the nothingness of Purgatory is equal to not giving the unschooled a chance to learn.

What God however worries about is what they would learn, and from who. Lucifer, to start, may be an excellent soldier and a champion in loving most—- but he also plays half the part in what has made the world fall from its former image of p a r a d i s e, just as his Father has played an equal part in it. Eric may be all the things Lucifer has named—- to him; to the rebel, the one to love unconditionally and let emotion, a sin amongst angels, stand in the way of orders. The vampire may be noble, kind and honourable, but is he not equally manipulative and a tad too ready to pop fangs for personal benefit?

This is not a matter to think upon for much longer, however; angels may well be scouring the planet for Lucifer's children ( or as humans would jokingly call them: devil spawns ) this very instant. Eyes in turn find His son's; there is that fire behind slate hues he'd seen eating at him just prior to his fall—- prior to when those same flames ate him up alive and spew him back out millennia later.

❝ I expected no less, Lucifer; do not mistake my questions for un- -knowingness, but I digress. ❞ He emphasises this by raising a single hand, palm facing forward.

❝ Your children will have their chance—- just as all infants do, minus those Death prematurely interferes with. You and Eric shall be granted the opportunity to raise them as you deem fit. Should their actions how- -ever come to match the definition of abominable, I will do as the set regulations would have me do without allowing further reasoning to get in the way, so be warned.

Beyond this, the mandatory l e c t u r e, I do wish you— all four of you— the very best. ❞

#alwaysenduphere #( tl ; modern man. )#[ gooD LORD LUCIFER.#—- i think god may slowly end up becoming a changed man;#iS THIS REASON I SEE IN HIS THOUGHTS ]

alwaysenduphere

ψ - — Icon Giveaway…

—{ Hello… This is something from me to y’all to say - thank you - just thank you for being here with me and Lu; even if we don’t write together I wanted to do something to let you know that I appreciate every single one of you… ♥

Because this is a thank you for my followers, then it’s open to followers — new followers are welcome — I don’t mind if you’re an rp blog or a personal…

To enter; Just reblog this post and that’s it…

Le prizey thingy

1 Person, 30 styled/themed icons of a FC of their choice to specific colour scheme/style/bordered/textured etc. - watermarked for sole use by them if they would like that option.

2 peoples, 15 styled/themed icons of a FC of their choice to specific colour scheme/style/bordered/textured etc. - watermarked for sole use by them if they would like that option.

Probably close this on Friday evening ( G M T ) - Thank you and good luck! Love from, Lu!Mun ♥ }—

#; ooc.#; giveaway.#[ signs on to reboob this ]

( alwaysenduphere )

ψ - — Not a thing that would have ever been anticipated, perhaps not even predicted - even in his omniscience. Faltering futures dependent upon - choice and action. Each one spinning off into a veritable infinity of others, each one possible, but not all probable.

And he wonders if the casual greeting is because he can already see — the choice which has been made in his mind. The decision which nestles there - stolid of will and unwavering. Bound in something more cutting than a garrotte - rusted razor wire, curling around and through and pulling - tight. Making sure that he will not falter in - t h i s - resolve, just as he had not in another so very long ago.

He doesn’t look up. There is none of the - p r i d e - vibrating through his form. No raised chin, no haughty gaze.

Eyes resting on the rock and the snow and he thinks that it’s perhaps fitting.

Some say the world will end in fire, Some say in ice. From what I’ve tasted of desire I hold with those who favor fire. But if it had to perish twice, I think I know enough of hate To say that for destruction ice Is also great And would suffice. - —Robert Frost

"I didn’t call for you." Because there was a difference in the power of he words merely spoken and those offered in —p r a y e r. "I prayed - to you.”

"I would ask you for something."

There’s a tension set to his jaw, something that makes teeth feel like they’re about to brittle like glass - shards ready to shatter and cut and embed into tender flesh, leaving him choking on it and spitting blood onto the pristine snow. A stain - another taint that would linger until the sun deigned to burn with the - l i g h t - he had bestowed as was his gift.

And the defiant, the rebellious, the prideful son moved. It was slow, but purposeful, eyes still downcast as the fabric of reality shuddered and trembled. Sea’s foamed with a torrent as one knee bent to set place on firmament. Land cracked and roared beneath the weight as a second joined it.

And Lucifer kneeled before his Creator.

"I would ask you for a peace of mind. A promise. I have a — family. Who exist in fear and blood and naught but the promise of death on swift wings. The wings of your orders - those who uphold their duty even now. And they are — i n n o c e n t. Of any crime toward you. They are - pure. I would ask you to rescind the order of death to their kind and allow them a life without fear. To live and love. Not to hide and run and fight. For as I was created, they were born, they deserve no punishment. They did not ask to be brought into this world, but it by was an act of love that they were. So if there is punishment to be dealt. Then… I offer myself in their stead.”

One form of astonishment follows the other; God is left absolutely perplexed in facing the circumstance that unfolds in front of Him. Has this not been what He'd wanted ever since Lucifer's fall from Heaven? Perhaps the sense of unease comes solely from the fact that, for a first time, He has been taken by surprise entirely.

( What does this mean, after all? ) Is there even an answer to that question? There must be; there is an answer to everything. God can explain everything. ( So why can He not wrap his omniscient mind around this? )

A frenzy of panic would have long overtaken Him had it not been for the embedded self composure that's long been twined with the luminescence of His grace—- amongst several other traits, both positive and negative in their respective states.

Only Lucifer may match the light that emanates for him; only Lucifer may outshine Him, even.

He derives no pleasure whatsoever from this—- quite against His own expectations ( and those of million others', surely ). It is almost painful to look upon, yet what outdoes the agonising display that is His most prideful son kneeling, is the request He faces now.

How many times has He turned the other cheek? How many more times should He? How often has He bended his own rules for His own benefit? —- Let the latter consist of not facing the burden of once again punishing His son or of being selective as to whom the set guidelines apply to ( and at what time and under what circum- -stances. )

❝ Lucifer... ——- You are asking me to do the unthinkable. How am I to maintain the order I am trying to reinstate after my absence if I am to turn a blind eye? ❞

Yet He continues to believe in innocence. All are born with a clean slate; even the most abominable creatures on this Earth. Is He to be ruthless to creatures that do not function like His angels; like those that are not supposed to question His reasoning—- and that would not? Are those born amongst humans not... different?

❝ Yet you would ask of me to bestow upon you the punishment to their... being. That is all they are, now; they simply exist, no?

I suppose my answer to your request would depend on what you would say to my question, Lucifer: are you and Eric to teach these children right from wrong? How would you do this? How would you keep them from becoming something that is to be dealt with? ❞

#alwaysenduphere #( tl ; modern man. )#[ wow this got painfUL VERY QUICKLY. ]

( singesalopes )

”stop. that’s irritating.”

❝ Your tone is irritating. ❞

#singesalopes #( tl ; modern man. )#[ bye ]

alwaysenduphere

❝But who prays for Satan? Who, in eighteen centuries, has had the common humanity to pray for the one sinner that needed it most?❞ —Mark Twain, Autobiography of Mark Twain

deusomnium

( alwaysenduphere )

The words ran through Lucifer’s mind as he considered what it was he was about to do.

And for once, left any weapons behind. It was a chance he’d take. Not that sword would do much good if there was an answer. Not that anything would.

There was simply a press of will and time and space bent and slipped and Lucifer’s feet were nestled in snow - Lofty peak of mountainous range. No other to set foot here - only rocky crags, stony ledges, covered in ice - only for those with the capacity of flight — And here, that was so very few.

He didn’t know whether to say anything out loud, not that there was another living soul within at least several hundred miles to hear him, and for a moment, he wondered if he even remembered how…

…And perhaps then - —the world inhaled - held it’s breath, waited… …And perhaps then - —the mountain trembled. Ground quaking beneath his feet as something far - o l d e r - set to task. …And perhaps then - —the unexpected was made manifest.

Face tipping up to the sky, inclined in the direction of the - H e a v e n s- cloud rolled, sky cracked and split with the presence, the act alone bearing down on the whole of this - c r e a t i o n…

…A single word, but uttered in— - - —p r a y e r.

“F a t h e r.”

A feeling certain imminence reverberates through Him; resonates and further echoes within his being—- from between ribs to the very centre of his grace ( if that is what his unique sense of energy is yet to be named ). His vessel's eyebrows furrow in corresponding fashion, confusion quite clearly painting itself across lightly stubbled features.

What eventually turns up in follow-up to the disturbing stir within His being, both of the physical plain and celestial intent, sends His thought into a lengthy pause.

( F A T H E R. )

He hears it, loud and clearly; this voice travelling across a channel only accessible to the likes of Himself— and thus all of His sons; thus Lucifer. It takes little more than a split second to recover from the quake that had just passed through His disguise of skin, though despite His altered vision on time, a second feels like a year in the current instant.

He composes Himself; straightens His figure before appearing in a spot only the Lucifer could have chosen. Quiet; secluded; private— for good reason, God anticipates.

❝ ——- Lucifer. You called for me? ❞

#alwaysenduphere #( tl ; modern man. )#[ vibratES.#thank you so much for leaving this in my tag! uwu ]

( eternalviking )

❝ It wasn’t a threat. ❞

The latter part of the sentence goes unsaid, but Eric knows that the Lord knows better. He might be God, but he is not Eric’s god.

Eric has the grace of Heaven’s brightest archangel around his neck — he knows the story behind it well. Lucifer was afraid, and sliced a piece of himself off to save, afraid that his fall would tarnish him, change him. Lucifer fears the grace in the vial and the grace he possesses now is not the same… but Eric knows better.

He hesitates to reveal their names, but he feels as though God already knows. He’s all knowing and all seeing, isn’t he? Eric shouldn’t have to explain anything, and yet God still asks. Perhaps there’s the rub…

❝ I do not understand how your followers preach love and light, and yet we are an abomination for loving. If those children are not the light… then I will be blinded forever. ❞

Eric is no longer abrasive — his question is genuine. He seeks guidance from the one whom, he assumes, can give it. If he is the Lord…

❝ I do not know why we are not allowed but the killers, pedophiles, murderers and rapists are. I do not understand. ❞

❝ Good. Then consider me unmoved by it. ❞

—— Which was in no way meant as an insult, not truly. If anything, it was solely an affirmation serving as a note on how differently things would have gone had He taken it as a genuine act of intimidation.

Hands find one another in His lap, His gaze dropping to fixate on twined fingers whilst a smile idly lingers at his mouth. It would have been a good question, had it been correctly posed.

❝ I am love and light. It is not loving that I condemn. If any- -thing, I encourage people to love. Humans, vampires and angels alike are to love, and I would have it no other way. —- I do not hate either you or Lucifer for loving in general; for loving one another; for loving your children. I don't hate. ❞

Stare lifts now, head tipping sideways and eyebrows further creasing in a frown befitting of his... curiousity.

❝ You have it all wrong, Eric. Killers, rapists, pedophiles—- they are not allowed; least of instead of people such as yourselves. Humans have this saying, though: rules are there to be broken. How am I to maintain order on Earth without robbing people of their free will—— like some might say I did to my army of angels?

Tell me: what has your view of me so twisted? ❞

#eternalviking #( tl ; modern man. )#pedophelia cw #rape cw #[ jusT IN CASE—-#ANYWAY yES I KNOW.#it's so sad like;#ISN'T HE SUPPOSED TO BE THE MOST FORGIVING THING ALIVE ]#[ queue'd ]

( princepsmagnus )

For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.

❝ And yet, Heavenly Father, I fear I have not yet given enough. ❞

And if you faithfully obey the voice of the Lord your God, being careful to do all his commandments that I command you today, the Lord your God will set you high above all the nations of the earth. And all these blessings shall come upon you and overtake you, if you obey the voice of the Lord your God. Blessed shall you be in the city, and blessed shall you be in the field. Blessed shall be the fruit of your womb and the fruit of your ground and the fruit of your cattle, the increase of your herds and the young of your flock. Blessed shall be your basket and your kneading bowl…

Michael, indeed, doubted his worthiness, his ability to stand true and faithful in the eyes of the doubt of others, his ability to hold steadfast and true against the sins of his most beloved brother…

Michael had endured pain and sorrow, but nothing could compare to that of His father asking him to sitteth at his right hand.

Thou sittest at the right hand of God in the glory of the Father…

but Michael could not.

❝ Father… I fear I cannot accept this — I am your most loyal, your most true, and even I fear I have not given enough, and yet… the angels, the ranks of Heaven need a leader. They need your most devout to keep them strong. If I leave, who would be there to protect them? Father, your honor rests upon me like the clouds of Heaven, but my duty must come first. ❞

❝ You have. You have given so much; you have given plenty. I just wish for you to know that is what I see, feel and know when I look upon you. ❞

Out of all that have followed, abandoned and returned to Him, Michael has been and forever will be the most faithful. Never has he left his station; never has he handled with doubt. Certainly, he might have felt it at several points in the timeline that is his existence alongside his Lord, but never has he acted on it. At some point, too many other have.

This is why the refusal His proposition is met with does not prompt Him to feel disappointed, hurt, or any other sense of negativity. No; it's quite the opposite. God can only experience a sense of approval and fondness, the latter which in turn translates into the elder leaning forth to press a chaste kiss to His son's brow.

❝ I understand; you are correct—- so your duty you shall fulfil. Just know that I would have you sit beside me, some day, mayhap when armies are no longer needed and this wretched, fragile peace has dissolved into something... true. ❞

#princepsmagnus #( tl ; modern man. )#[ sits on a table; flipS IT.#i think this is genuinely the first time i have seen the ~loving God~ the believers talk of tbh;#goodbye world ]#[ queue'd ]

( hellixn )

GOD he damn near does l a u g h . his features changing in a wave from defensive to confusion now tinting with increasing amusement. if this guy wanted to talk faith & religion he’d have better luck with his brother… though that incident in rhode island where he was nearly IMPALED may just have the stubborn hunter … w o n d e r i n g .

” you hittin’ the bottle a little early there t’day aren’t you champ? “

❝ You truly are as witty as the angels say you are. ❞ It even proves to be difficult for Him to keep from sarcasm.

Alas, it will not prove his truth—- but perhaps a show put on just for Dean Winchester would help his case.

❝ Tell me what I would have to do to prove the truth behind my statement. This is a one-time offer, child. Take it while you can. ❞

#hellixn #( tl ; modern man. )#[ pls it'S TOTALLY FINE ]

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