The Healer's Hands Are Bloodiest

Ophallia (Ophael, Ophalliel), Angel of Healing, Apprentice of Raphael, likely fallen. Stumbling, Shambling, Holy. This blog is inactive. Thank you for everything.

[gossamer-feathers]

Havent been active in years but have been watching the kin community and after seeing prominant members of the otherkin community defend rape and death threats simply bc they didnt agree with people i have to say that i will not ever be active on this blog again. I will not engage with otherkin again. I will not associate myself with that kind of hatred.

What and who we were in another life is one thing. What and who we are now is another. We have a responsibility to be good human beings to other people. We need to separate what we have been with what we are now. I need to separate. Good luck on your own journeys. Stay kind. Stay good. You will find a path that brings you comfort.

Thank you and goodbye.

Sleep well Siblings.

[gossamer-feathers]

(2/2) i know that i heavily disagreed with what was to come. i was and am a seer/sight, i am shown information and knowledge for the humans i am sworn to protect, yet its always like watching a pond clear from rippling. its never fully clear. my colors are beige and maroon, and i’m so sure i was very isolated before. I don’t feel hardly connected to any other angel or energy other than the one i love on earth and the humans i am watcher of

Hi dear, you sound very connected to your energy and yet likely experience the fog we all experience. Lately, i haven't really been tapping into those memories. I have no desire to. I used to want to uncover my divinity and reclaim it but i have concluded I cannot reclaim what I have not lost. I have simply been repurposed by the Warden.

That said, being a Seer is a hard path. The knowing is hard. The turmoil. The unsteady peace. Im not really quite sure if you just wanted to open dialogue or if you were needing some kind of confirmation. I dont know if I can give it. You sound connected and awake from my perspective.

Dear sibling, the wisdom I have to offer you from my experiences is that when you have memories and connections that strong you do not need others to validate it. The knowing is in your veins. Divinity is not something that goes away. It is simply reshaped. I wish you luck with your path and your awakening and I hope that you find your path relatively painlessly.

Thank you for telling me about you! It is nice to hear about other divine siblings!

[gossamer-feathers]

the way you speak is so familiar, so likeminded. i was an archangel of love and peace, with a golden chained thurible as my totem. the sky around me was charcoal red and the ground was fresh, and i walked it, christening it for battle that i took no part in. i had a large golden metallic triangle with one large, blinding white eye that emitted the essence of my voice that i assume was my halo, i had long wavy brown hair, a petite but skyscraper sized frame and two pearlescent opal wings. (1/2)

[nagmoni-deactivated20210903]

abdi for @notjustawave

[itdrake]

blood type: gold

[viridites-blog]

the humans believe we are beautiful, flawless and unmarked by scars or dips in smooth marble flesh. they believe we are made in their image, that our eyes are in two and our arms open wide and welcoming. i never heard Father call them foolish— but he must have known.

we watched, silent. we melded in when asked to and left when demanded. our curiousities kept locked away, Father’s hand always gripping circular halos.

the humans do not know of our eyes, our wings, our legs and bodies— our lack thereof. they do not know we walk amongst them now, we touch them now, we judge them now. on earth as it was in heaven, our Father omniscient. casting some of us out, sending some to Lucifer— dear brother, Lucifer —and the domain that burns and howls with woe and rage.

[notbecauseofvictories]

entelecheia — in the philosophy of Aristotle, the condition of a thing whose essence is fully realized [x]

[tenderpotter]

#OKAY BUT IF THIS IS AN ANGEL—IF THEIR HALOS ARE THE UNFLAWED AND FULLY REALIZED CIRCLE#THAT MEANS THAT IN FALLING—IN BECOMING DEMONIC#THE CIRCLE CRACKS#THE DEMON’S HORNS ARE THE VESTIGIAL HALO#A CONSTANT SYMBOL AND REMINDER OF THEIR FLAWED-NESS; THEIR INCOMPLETENESS#I’M!!!!! (notbecauseofvictories)

[miraiiboy-deactivated20171224]

HOLY FUCK

[lepidoliteautumn]

This artist is Lucian Stancelescu for anyone who wants to credit the artist btw….. https://hypnothalamus.deviantart.com

[chrysopterus]

<I>[Can you still feel divinity thrumming through your veins?]</I>

[ex0skeletal]

Zodiac Angels by Peter Mohrbacher

1. Hanael, Angel of Capricorn:

2. Advachiel, Angel of Sagittarius:

3. Ambriel, Angel of Gemini:

4. Muriel, Angel of Cancer:

5. Verchiel, Angel of Leo:

6. Hamaliel, Angel of Virgo:

7. Zuriel, Angel of Libra:

8. Barbiel, Angel of Scorpio:

9. Cambiel, Angel of Aquarius:

10. Barchiel, Angel of Pisces:

11. Malahidael, Angel of Aries:

12. Asmodel, Angel of Taurus:

[tomorrowandbeyond]

[gossamer-feathers]

He called him Father, and I bit my tongue. He smiled, glimmered, and was so gentle with the word. Truly reverent. He called him Father with shining eyes and steady hands, and I clamped my mouth shut. He performed Father’s will, took up blade and needle, and severed the dangerous bonds of rebellion. And I followed him because he was my brother. I took up arms at his side, but not for Him. He called him Father, but what kind of Father creates a battlefield? What kind of Father condemns his children from the start? I never understood, brother, how you could call him Father. I never understood how I could not call him Father. I suppose now I never will.

[gossamer-feathers]

Those are not shooting stars, my love. Those are our fallen brethren, comets of divinity winking through the sky. Look at how beautiful they are in their rebellion. 

[gossamer-feathers]

You taught me to stitch and cauterize wounds, how to set sprained wings and mend broken bones, how to sing scars out of existence. But brother, why didn’t you teach me to mend abrasions of the heart and soul? 

[gossamer-feathers]

My inner light is eating me alive

[gossamer-feathers]

Consider: Young Angels in The War

Angels, just barely grown into their wings, elbow deep in ichor, and panic, and the smell of holy decay. 

Angels, just barely learning the feel of wind through their feathers, sweating palms around a hilt, and soul aching from the strain.

Angels, just barely learning the names of their betters, reciting hymns for strangers, siblings they always wanted to know.

Angels, just barely matured into their grace, watching a meteor shower of divinity, and fearfully wondering when they are next.

Angels who didn’t get to be angels.

[gossamer-feathers]

It didn’t feel like a battle. It didn’t feel like a war. It felt like a massacre.

[gossamer-feathers]

Speak kindly, dear sibling, mortal ears were not made to fathom the secrets, the truths, your words may herald.

Speak gently, dear sibling, lest you ignite a primal fear in the hearts of your loved ones.

Speak slowly, dear sibling, this tongue was not made to speak the old one, and the words are clumsy in our mouths.

Speak softly, dear sibling, this body’s throat was not made to hold the glory of your true voice.

But if you must raise your voice, dear sibling, then let it be heard.