birthrightgreen | (no subject)

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Well. I'm not really sure what the "Bible" is. And I've never heard of angels or heaven. But I saw this quiz on

evankasparov's journal and it was telling him that he was Satan (no "e"), who apparently rules Hell in this "Bible" thing. Well, shit. That was amusing. So I took the quiz.

And what do you know? I got the same result.

I'm assuming there are other villains you can get, but I think this one's fitting, all things considered. *can't decide whether to smirk or giggle*

Satan
You scored 60% Pride, 70% Envy, 60% Ambition, and 62% Deceitfulness!

You are Satan, the consummate villain, and the ascendant figure in the
unholy trinity. Throughout history you have been called The Serpent,
The Accuser, The Devil, Lucifer, The Prince of the Power of the Air,
and The Dragon, among other things. Your “compatriots” in the unholy
trinity, the Antichrist and the False Prophet, are merely pawns in your
futile struggle with God. Though, they probably don’t know this. This
is because you are a master of deception; indeed the Bible calls you
“The Father of All Lies”. You are also very ambitious, and you strive
to be in positions of the utmost authority. Unfortunately, it was
impossible for you to obtain the highest title in heaven and this is
part of the reason why you decided to leave. Of course, you couldn’t
just leave by yourself, so you managed to use your deceptive abilities
to get one third of the angels in heaven to join with you in revolt.
God put down the rebellion and expelled you from heaven. To most
people, it would seem foolish to start a war against God, but pride can
sometimes cause people to do foolish things. In heaven, you were the
most beautiful and powerful of all angels and you were well aware of
this. Unfortunately, you let your pride consume you and your passions
led you down the road to perdition. After you were expelled from
heaven, you let another one of your attributes consume you—envy. You
knew that you could never defeat God, but you could attempt to destroy
humanity, his most beloved creation. Your goal is to bring as many
people as possible to suffer in Hell with you. Fortunately for you, but
unfortunately for the rest of us, you’ve been endowed with all of the
attributes necessary (deceptiveness, confidence, ruthlessness, and
ambition) to do a terribly good job at this.

My test tracked 4 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:

You scored higher than 60% on Pride
You scored higher than 83% on Envy
You scored higher than 50% on Ambition
You scored higher than 80% on Deceitfulness

Link: The Which Biblical Villain Are You Test written by MetalliScats on Ok Cupid

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Definitely going to be fun. He does start to tear her dress away now, but slowly. She can stop him if it's more damage than she'd like to sustain. His talons continue to rake lightly over her skin, around the curve of her breast, spiraling towards her nipple.

His gasp at her roving fingers is at least a little bit of surprise, and certainly of pleasure. He smiles against her mouth in return, parting his lips for her tongue and sliding his over hers.

She can buy a new dress. There's something amazingly erotic at having it torn from her. She'd press closer but for the danger of impaling herself, so she signals her approval through the kiss, hungry, if still in control. Clearly wanting.

One fingertip teases at his entrance, then presses just slightly inside, then retreats, sliding up his skin, then back down to repeat the movement.

He tears a line down at the cleavage of her dress, opening it to the navel and pushing enough of a flap aside that he can continue the spiral. And when it reaches the center he rolls the tips of his talons over her nipple, the threat of violence and bloodletting and tearing it off her body but light enough that it's still only play.

His brief laugh rolls into her mouth as he kisses her back, and kisses her again, quick passionate kisses like a staccato rhythm to drive it just a little further. And as her fingers move the kisses are broken by little noises that are almost moans. Because, yes, that feels good. very good.

She shudders slightly at the threat. She knows males who would rip nipples of and call it part of days work. She calls them cousins. But the faint edge of fear is thrilling as well. A dance with darkness and danger. His laugh is reassuring that it's play.

She's swimming in pleasure and knows she'll be lost in it if she doesn't pull back a bit. So she does, smiling at him. Disregarding her torn dress, her fingers move to his, closing around him and pulling him slowly toward the bed.

He smiles back, tilting his head a little to watch her as she moves, as he follows.

Completely unashamed in both his nudity and his arousal, but there's no real swagger in his step either. Confidence, yes.

For now, he'll continue to follow her lead.

A tiny seductive smile, dancing over her lips as her eyes take him in approvingly. "Lie down on your stomach..." Voice husky.

His eyebrows arch, intrigued, as he smirks.

He obeys, glancing at her over his shoulder, anticipating and smiling.

She holds his eyes as she undoes the rest of the dress, letting it pool at her feet. Slender, but strong, curved in all the right places. She lets him look as she reaches for the oil in the table by the bed. The candles flicker, dimming just a bit. Not dark but subtler shadows dance around the room. She crawls onto the bed, lips meeting his in a brief kiss before they stray to his shoulder, tongue flicking as she makes her way down his spine, then back up.

She smiles again as she straddles his ass, the heat of his skin searing into her wetness, making her eyes close for a moment. Then she focuses.

Warm oil in her hands, then lightly on his back. Her touches are sensual, meant to arouse as much as relax, sliding over his muscles. A faint, spicy yet sweet smell, like cloves and vanilla fills the air. She leans down, her tongue sliding over his spine again, soft kisses where her hands move, the oil heating even more at the touch of her mouth. Her movements are slow, sensual, tightly controlled as she tries to soften the urgency before heating it up again.

He moans at first, sighs as his body relaxes. His eyes fall closed after a while, as hungry as they were over her while she undressed. Appreciative of the show she was putting on.

Every little touch brings a little shiver of skin. His breath comes in even, slow sighs. The fire starts to bank itself, though it burns just as hot.

She tastes, teases, touches. Sliding lower, she works her way over him. A kiss to his instep. A nip behind his knee. Taking her time, learning every inch of this side of him.

Slick fingers between his legs, stroking the skin between his balls and his hole. Slight pressure against the nerves there.

She moves up again, her skin hot against his. A light bite to the upper muslces of neck and back as she slides one finger into him with gentle precision.

He shudders as she strokes, letting himself sink into the waves of pleasure that it sends over him in ever-increasing quickness. The sheets soon begin to collect a stain, and though he'd love to writhe against the bed, rub himself on the sheets, he doesn't.

He does, however, shudder as she enters him. A soft little approving moan escapes his lips.

She smiles at the moan, dragging her teeth over skin as she thrusts into him gently, but deep, brushing against his prostate. A second finger joins the first, teasing at him from the inside, while her lips and tongue mark down his spine again, over delicate nerves.

Yes. There. His breath hisses out in gasping sounds of pleasure, hands tightening as he fights not to move against her, move with the sensations she's giving him.

He does, however, reach out with his mind. Extending an invitation by way of a brush of his mind against hers, an offering to feel as he feels.

She sighs softly on a shiver, dropping her shields beyond emotion, to let him show her, opening more. She moans softly against his skin, with the pleasure of it, desire coursing higher. She presses against him, skin to skin, her fingers still moving at that leasurely pace, teasing him, and her, higher.

An amused thought, laced with pleasure, sent on an open thread, testing again.

*Mother Night. One wonders why all men don't want to feel this...*

He wraps his pleasure around her and ripples it along her like a blanket. Like water. Every exquisite sensation of her in him and against him and around him, driving him wild. The coolness of the bed against flushed skin, her sweating body against his. Gentle pressure and full sensation.

[They don't know what they're missing.] Tinges of amusement.

And his mind's voice trails through her like his physical voice, warm and rolling and full of arrogant laughter and sensuality.

Husky and warm, sensual and pleased, with a touch of wonder laced through with amusement. *It can be...pleasant for women...* If the male has any idea what he's doing. *But not like this* She has no word for the differences, why what he feels is different than what she's felt in the past when men took he like this, but she closes her eyes and just feels it roll through her.

Wanting more. Wanting it to not end. Another bite to the nape of his neck, marking him, feeling the sensation of that as well with a whimper against his skin.

*No...* He shudders. Moans again, and even laughs a little. *But then, men do not have the advantage of...*

Touch sensation slides up her thigh, between her legs. He can feel her body pressed so close against his, and it helps him orient. He slides a psychic finger into her, slowly, exploring. Teasing down her folds, then up again, and rubbing lightly in the juices over her clit.

A moan, ripped from her lips, sliding around them, and her fingers pause for a moment, before resuming their gentle thrusting, trembling against him. The coils wrapping around them both, scents of desire mixed with the oil, the touches, real and phantom...

She slides down him again, teeth nipping playfully at his hip, calling on all her training to keep from shattering apart. Her fingers slide out, still teasingly light, and she focuses to replace them with phantom ones of her own, which resume the gentle thrusts, going deeper, wrapping around what seems to give him such pleasure. Her tongue darts out to trace his opening, dipping briefly inside with the phantoms, then parting his legs to slide lower, teasing the underside of his sac.

He gasps, his moans becoming sharper and more urgent. By now he can't quite keep from shuddering and gently, slowly thrusting against the bed beneath. He moves slow and easy, trying not to dislodge her. Every sensation, the touches inside him, her tongue over his skin, the sheets over his shaft, slides into her.

So does the telekinetic caress. Once again, sliding slowly within her, amorophous phallic shape carefully thrusting a bare inch at a time. Each inch accompanied by a swirl over her clit.

The pleasure is spiraling close to pain, her hips rocking a bit against the sensations playing against her, her moans bordering on sobs. She shifts a bit, her hands settling on his hips, enouraging him to roll to his back, even as she focuses as hard as she can to keep the phantom touches sliding over and in him.

He rolls, obedient. Slides the touches down to tickle at the inside of her thighs, retreating from the intensity of the moment. For now.

His hips lift slightly, and there's a tiny smirk on his face. His eyes are blazing, even half-closed, his lips parted for breath. One hand reaches down to her knee, lightly caressing. In the joining they've created in their minds he sends a gentle surge of desire, showing her in sensation how much he wants to be inside her.

She slides on top of him, feeling his shaft against her thigh. Her lips dance over his, then merge, kissing him fiercely.

An amused skitter of thought, teasing as well as sensual. *Have I been deemed proper enough for the superior position*

He slides an arm around her, rising up against her, kissing her back. Smiling against her mouth.

*Most certainly...* His hips thrust a little, deliberately rubbing himself over her leg.

A soft laugh into his mouth as her hands run down him. She lifts a little, her fingers closing round him. A couple of playful strokes, and then she positions herself over him easily, and slides down him slowly, incrementally, centimeter by centimeter, almost holding her breath as he fills her.

He groans, shuddering with the effort to let her control her descent. His breath starts to rasp in his throat as he tumbles towards climax, the passion surging through him and then through her.

Laced through that is a wonder (and a peculiar sense of familiarity) at how it feels to be penetrated, to ride him even as he thrusts into her.