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

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.

Even with muscles shaking, she rides him smoothly, muscles tightening around him as he thrusts, then gliding over him as she rises. One hand resting on his chest, lifting a bit to look at him, eyes wide and dark. Little spasms through her, around him. Feeling what he's feeling, how it would be to be sheathed inside someone makes her moans louder.

She's trembling on the edge, muscles clenching him harder as she rides, rocking her hips on each descent, to brush her clit against his pubic bone, setting off fireworks along her nerves. Her fingers curl, nails biting into his chest, as she cries out, flying over the crest, as her orgasm starts to shoot through her.

He almost screams, thrusting up into her when her nails dig into his flesh. Pleasure and pain spiking through him, shooting into her, as sweat and blue electric fire starts to pour off of him in waves. His hands at her thighs, thumbs caressing at the tops of her legs, the only soft motion left.

It's the sensation of her climax that makes his body go tight, makes him give out a strangled cry as he shoots into her, searing liquid climax burning him from the inside out.

The feel of him, burning through her, fire and pleasure and pain, keeps hers rolling until she doesn't know which is her climax, and which is his.

"Samael..." She sobs out the name he gave her, clinging to him as she shudders under wave after wave, trying to ride it out. The Gray Jewel around her neck flares when the blue fire from him hits it, surging power through her. A soft, keening cry, another shudder running through her, and then the arm holding her up gives out and she collapses against his chest, gasping.

Power drives power, and he arches off the bed towards the end, caught off guard by the feedback loop. His hands clutch over her body as the flow crests, then ebbs again.

*Gods...* No room for speech. *Surreal...*

By the time the crackling subsides he can feel her breath panting over his chest. A soft little smile, one hand weakly raises to stroke through her hair, caress fingertips over her cheeks. His arm slides around her, holding her loosely in an exhausted embrace.

She presses a kiss to the side of his neck, working to catch her breath, still trembling against him. A sound that resembles a purr, in the back of her throat, a shiver at each aftershock along her nerves. Her hand strokes weakly over his wet skin, then just rests against him.

*May the Darkness be merciful...* weak thought, shivers of pleasure through it.

He teases his fingertips through her hair, lifting a few strands and letting them fall over her skin. After a moment he covers her hand lightly with his free hand, other hand tracing light circles over her shoulder. A soft kiss to her forehead, soft sigh. Snuggling a little.

She smiles slightly, the snuggling catching her pleasantly off-guard. She shifts her hand a little, winding her fingers through his. She slides her fingers through his hair softly, teasing fingertips along his scalp. Another kiss to the join of neck and shoulder, as she settles against him.

His thumb brushes slightly on the back of her hand. He smiles a little at the kiss, a light one-arm hug in return. He makes a soft, murmuring little contented noise at the touch of her fingers through his hair. His breathing slows, more even now, as his body relaxes into the aftermath of their heat.

Her eyes drift closed. Not sleeping, but basking in the warmth that skitters through her veins, and the solid feel of him beneath her. She smiles, listening to his heartbeat as it finds a slower, more steady rhythm. Her breath matches his, instinctively, either from the rise and fall of his chest agaist her, or through the feedback loop radiating satisfaction. Her fingers keep up their lazy stroking through his hair, silky strands sliding between them, damp from their exertions.

Easy wonder radiating off of her, through her, but she doesn't feel the need for words.

He drifts a little, himself, letting all the sensations and the rhythms of their heart and breath flow through him. From each sound and each sensation of her breath over his skin, every warm sight he builds a cocoon of lazy contentment around them. It's as though he prolongs the moment, savors each second of their embrace for the sated bliss that it is for him, storing it away to be a happy memory later.

Affection ripples through all the while, cycling at moments to honored gratitude and the smug amusement that might come from a well-fed cat.

She chuckles a bit at his smugness, but can't help feeling it a bit herself, nuzzling at his throat gently. The cocoon of contentment and affection is warming, blissful, and she feeds into it with her own.

She stretches a little, lazily, and shifts to the side so she's only half on him, head on his shoulder, arm and leg still across him, but able to stretch her knees out more comfortably.

He smiles. Shifts to accomodate her, fingertips stroking along her skin. It's on the tip of his mind to ask if he's pleased her, though it'd be more for amusement's sake than any real kind of a question. But he doesn't want to break the silence either; it's quite comfortable as they are. So he rests, and gathers his strength for the next round.

He's fairly sure there will be a next round.