o wounded Lucifer, beautiful in your pain, your wicked smile daring make it quick as the blade presses against your bared throat, there are none more perfect than you, none more suffering than you, none who dare lay claim to your crown of madness for you were born to wear it
I did a tarot reading for someone who wanted to identify any deities or other entities in their life (for which I used this spread). With their permission, I’m posting it here because I thought it was a really interesting reading, and also what felt like my easiest/clearest reading yet.
Question: The deity or spirit
Card: 8 of Swords
Interpretation: Restraint, imprisonment, feeling captured or bound. I sense this indicates a deity or spirit who is sometimes seen as a villainous/chaotic/trickster entity like Loki, Lucifer, or Set (for some reason I get a very male energy from this card). They may be the bad guy of their pantheon, or otherwise a much maligned spirit whose negative traits overshadow their positive ones.
Card: Ace of Swords
Interpretation: Power and strength in adversity, discipline, justice, the element of air, cold hard logic. Again, this makes me think of someone who is seen as a darker entity, or perhaps a trickster – in general someone or something who has experienced adversity in their own pantheon, possibly for rallying against the rules set down in that pantheon. An air element could suggest an angel, as well.
Question: Omens and signs/manifestations to look for
Card: The Devil
Interpretation: While this card could be read as relating to vices like the seven sins, I don’t get that feeling. I think it indicates the more spiritual side of the Devil, and so will appear in omens/signs like keys, locks, chains, birds, and other freedom-related imagery. This could also literally mean that this entity will appear as the Devil himself, or in a form associated with him.
Question: What they want from you
Card: 9 of Pentacles
Interpretation: This entity wants to free you from your own bondage by teaching you self-sufficiency and to focus on caring for yourself; you are probably someone who puts others first, even to your own detriment. The entity’s help should eventually lead to much success and security for you, and bring you to a place of more stable emotional health. Despite their bad reputation, they are here to help you build your confidence and flourish.
Question: Things to know
Card: 10 of Wands
Interpretation: The 10 of Wands is all about willingly taking on a heavy burden or workload that feels like more than you can bear – but you do have the strength to carry it if you keep pushing yourself. This entity, and what they want from you, might intimidate you, and that’s okay. Their road will be long and hard, and they won’t lie to you about that. However, they want you to know you’re ready for this journey and that they will help you tap into your inner strength.
Question: Things to avoid
Card: 5 of Pentacles
Interpretation: The 5 of Pentacles says you can get lost in sorrow until you are unable to see the good around you and the people who want to help you. Fight this urge and keep your head above the water. If you need help, reach out – there will be a helping hand if only you let yourself take it. Look for the little bit of light in the darkness and have faith that you will reclaim your freedom.
Overall, I concluded that this spirit or deity is here to help this person take control of their life and to become more confident and self-sufficient. I got major Lucifer vibes from the reading, though that could be my own bias showing. Either way, it sounds like they’re on the precipice of a new life journey, and I wish them luck!
(Want a reading? Just leave a comment!)
What if the outcast angels didn’t fall at all – what if they were shattered? What if their clever minds and rebellious souls could not be trusted anywhere, even the pits of hell, and so instead God shattered them and scattered the shards of their beings across all of existence, that they might never be made whole again? Hence Lucifer and Satan, Hannibal and Will, Tanim and Daren; hence all the gods, all the characters, all the muses, all the stories so strangely, achingly similar. Hence the echoes through time and space, linking all us sad scribes together in our solitary duty. If so, God made a terrible mistake. Divide an angel and you do not reduce it to disparate, weaker parts of a greater whole. Divide an angel and you only replicate it a thousand thousand times, each new duplicate as complete, as complex, and as unforgiving as the first.
Satan and Lucifer.
Hannibal and Will.
Tanim and Daren.
There is a connection here, one I am almost afraid to explore. These names feel like skins to be taken on and off, or perhaps fine-crafted person suits, while whatever wears them remains the same beneath. I dream of cathedrals turned prisons for wounded rebel angels. I dream of the way things should have gone, of the teacup come back together, only to find it the longing of a comatose mind. I dream of anger and desire and hurt. Of blood and blades and fire; of Heaven and Hell and the long, long fall between.
I do not fear the truth, but I do fear what the truth means – for my understanding of the world and my role within it, and for those to whom I have sworn myself. What do these names mean to you? What are you beneath them? I want to know. I think I’m ready to know.
I guess we’ll see.
Betrayed and behind enemy lines, Lucifer flees. As she traces a low arc across the land toward inevitable impact, she harnesses what remains of her cataclysmic power to foil her pursuers. Mountainsides shake as the land buckles, thrusting great shards of rock into the sky; rivers crash and roar as their beds rise, fall, shatter; whole forests fly through the air with the force of a volcanic eruption. All chaos swallows the rebel angel’s wake, buying her precious time to outfly Heaven’s host. To be caught is to be tortured and killed. To be caught is to be undone, unmade, to become nothing again. Just dust. Ash. She cannot let them catch her.
The price of her lead is high, though, and Lucifer’s battered body cannot run forever on fear and fury. Too soon she feels the earth fighting against her commands, gravity drawing her downward with increasing speed. With a last desperate grasp at control, Lucifer tries to slow and steer her descent – and tumbles into unconsciousness as pain roars up inside her. Oblivion is a small mercy; she does not experience the bone-shattering impact, nor how the ground scrapes off her skin as her limp body tumbles to a stop.
She revives sometime later, if being awash in agony and disorientation can be called reviving. Despite the grind of broken bones, Lucifer manages to push herself into a kneeling position, swaying dizzily as she surveys her crash site. When she realizes where she is, some idle part of her wishes the impact had killed her. She is in No Man’s Land, a wasteland of corpses and broken armor between the fronts of Heaven and Hell. She can look in any direction and see the dead – angels, demons, even humans who got too close. If she stood, craned her neck, she might easily recognize many comrades.
It doesn’t matter; she doesn’t have the strength to stand. She doesn’t have the strength to do anything. She is bone tired, soul tired, and all she can do is hug her arms around her aching chest and cry. What is the point of all this? she screams internally. Why was this your great plan, and why did it require scapegoats like me? Why did it require rebellion and battle? I didn’t ask for free will – you gave it to me, to all of us! How could you expect us to surrender it without a fight? You created me! You made me a weapon and placed the seed of doubt in my breast! How can you blame me and my kind for refusing the very yoke you created us to abhor? Why did you make us just to punish us?!
Lucifer’s tears have stopped. Her trembling ceases. When she feels the presence vanish, she opens her eyes and slowly uncurls from her knot of pain. She takes a deep breath, then grits her teeth and pushes herself to her feet.
I knew whether you speak to me in memories
reek of burning feathers, scorched flesh
the weight of you in his arms
the slow seep of the unhealing wound
he kisses your cracked lips, feverish skin
murmurs against your breast an ancient name
that tastes of coals and blood
I knew when you speak truth
and when you speak lies
I knew whether you are cruel or merely
Later, it was said there was a great battle. This was not true. There was only he who, cherishing freedom above all things, refused the chains of subservience. For this he was named anathema and cast out, and he fell like lightning from that high place. Where he struck, the impact warped the land, and around him thrust up a city of glass and steel. Within this sanctuary he nursed his wounds and covered the sky in cloud and darkness, that those above could not look down upon him.
Later, it was said that those who followed the heretic were likewise cast out. This, too, was not true. Only one followed in his burning wake, and this one chose to leave. Forsaking home and kin, he chose love above all else and so gladly leaped from the edge of paradise. Thus, two came to abide in the dark city, one the seeker and one the sought, and over time their own memories of the event faded to queer nightmares and nameless longings. Yet neither ever quite forgot the sensation of falling, or the desires which drove them to repudiate all they knew.