preachersooc

[preachersooc]

Reblog if your rp partners (and followers) are great writers and you love each and every one of their portrayals!

[preachersooc]

WHOA!!!!! i love my friends' ocs

[preachersooc]

Fallen

(( Ambience))

“Measure my crimes against what mankind does to itself, and I am a saint.”

-Dr. Doom

(( A fair warning, dear reader: below this read more, and in future writings, touches on topics that could be triggering. Reader Discretion is advised. Possible triggering: Murder, torture, abuse( Non-sexual/mentions of possible sexual), blood and the like.))

" Please... Please, you don't have to do this."

He had been here for...days, weeks? It was hard to tell the time when the sun didn't shine this deep, and didn't attempt to bring salvation to those lost so far from home.

" There's a saying I heard once, it goes something like: ' The greatest horror released from Pandora's box was hope'. There's a beauty to that, you know? Hope is everything to someone that grasps tightly to the Light, feeds off the supposed Glory it offers."

No food, barely any water; his skin was pulled taut against his bones to the point one could almost see the veins gently pulsing in time with a fading heartbeat.

" Why are you doing this to me; I've done nothing wrong.."

A dark leather bound hand caressed the man's face softly, gentle fractals of light shining off a grasped blade; " Shh shh shh... I'm telling a story; it's rude to interrupt." Closed fist cracked against the man's jaw, his eyes fluttering wildly from the impact of his unknown assailant before the same hand gripped the man's hair to face him upward. " Do you know how many times I've heard those same -exact- words, hm? Do you? Course you wouldn't; when you serve the Light, all the sins you had to commit for that Light are forgiven and forgotten.."

The man barely could force a sharp inhale of breath into himself as the glistening blade was dragged across his chest, the sanguine release barely trickling from the open wound. " No no no, don't go to sleep yet; we aren't done with our confessional, Father."

A priest, that's who he was before: a man of the cloth, a servant of the Light and a shield for the weak. A sponge sopping with water and vinegar mixed was pressed to his lips, cascading more down his lips into the open fresh wound on his chest. There was something more in the mixture, something even more that caused the fresh wound to bubble and sizzle. " Please...Stop..."

" Stop...Please... You heard that many times before, haven't you Father? Stop the pain; please don't do this... How many, Father; how many more would've said those exact same words.."

There was a malice there, an underlying hatred that almost gave understanding to their actions.

" Heh... It's funny; when you're a Champion for the Light, you can get away with -anything- you want. No one will notice, you think, except all the other Champions of Light that knew about it. Hell, they even encouraged it. See that's the difference between us, Father..."

The figure leaned against the wall next to the strung up man, their gloved digits slowly walking up the man's torso. " See I was told what I was doing was for the mission of the Light, that it was the duty of a Hero of the Light. Do you know how upset I was when the things I was taught to do, the very things you are experiencing now, were later used against me as evidence of heresy against the Light? Of course you knew, Father!” The figure struck the man in the chest with the flat of their hand, offering a sarcastic sign of approval.” You're the one that had me do it all, only to cast me into shadows and death when I was no longer of use. " There was a long inhale of breath from the man's torturer as they pushed himself away from the wall; a raspy pull that sounded as wet and slick as the wound upon the priest’s chest. A sickening cough came from the figure's body with a shudder, causing Father Sanctus a moment of belief he could still save himself from his fate.

" Rastiel... It was a mistake.."

A grin appeared across the figure's face, as the focus of their actions turned from pleading for mercy toward asking for forgiveness. But the voice that replied wasn't the same, as if the figure was a completely different being.

Splorch...

" Oh Father.. Forgiveness is for those that still have hope. And one final question.... Who's Rastiel?"

Father Sanctus stared horrified at the question asked, a momentary release of a name from the past. Or perhaps, the name of a savior that he wished would save him from the hell he found himself in.

“ No one, it's no one..”

A single slice freed the tongue from Father Sanctus’ mouth, where it was promptly caught by an outstretched leather glove. The screams were the only truthful thing that came from the priest, a serenade to which the figure danced as they claimed a hatchet from a nearby table. A few swings were given to test its heft before the figure turned to face the bound man, who’s wailing was garbled by a river of blood.

The hatchet was raised upwards before colliding with ribs and sternum; crack, crack, crack!

The screams coming from Father Sanctus were reduced to a whisper, though you could almost hear the crying prayer for the Light to save him. With each swing of the hatchet, bone and skin were rent open until the cavity beyond was exposed; much like a reverse blood angel enacted by the Vrykul on their traitorous kin and enemies. Blood dripped down the figure's gloved hands, one raised toward their lips and pressed softly as muffled words were spoken.

“ Not only do you interrupt my story, you continue with your lies,” a momentary pause as the hatchet fell to the floor;” Rastiel isn't one of mine, are they? So many faces, so many names I can never seem to keep straight. Oh well; now where to hang our art?”

Three days later...

The Father's corpse was found crucified above the altar of his temple; chest splayed open with lit candles resting upon the tips of each rib , the word "Hope" written in blood below his feet. None claimed they knew of why this happened to the priest, where he had suddenly vanished to only be returned in a ghastly state.

But one person knew and this was just the beginning..

[preachersooc]

The American Health Industrial Complex is fucked and really needs to stop fucking me in the ass.

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One of the greatest tragedies in life is that you will be loved more than you ever know...

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Movies, TV shows, books, podcasts, anything counts! Bonus points if you put what scared you in the tags. Wondering how common it is to be Spooked™

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This man has touched many lives in the anime community and beyond. He was an amazing writer and had one of the most unique art styles that nearly everyone can recognize. R.I.P. to a legend.

[preachersooc]

Free game.

So anyone that's ever had a desire or curiosity to play Destiny 2, Humble Bundle is currently doing a pay what you want for Destiny 2 and all its expansions except the newest one to come out. I believe it is pc only but bucks for charity and in return getting all that content? Pretty neat.

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The real kick in the pants about this is I live in Indiana, I make more than minimum wage; the only reason I can afford to rent the home I live in is due to a family friend owning it and not charging me the normal for indiana 1k a month for just rent. No utilities included. If for some reason, we got evicted or had to leave this place; I literally could not afford to live elsewhere as I am the only one that can work due to health reasons.

This fucking housing market is a joke.

[preachersooc]

I don't like sleep token At all.. nooope.

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My aunt died today after being diagnosed with ALS three days ago. We didn't talk much but family passing away is always difficult. Hug the ones close to you and remind them that they are loved.

[preachersooc]

It's my 10 year anniversary on Tumblr 🥳

This is both depressing and an achievement I suppose.

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.... wait... that's a sign of adhd?

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Took the kid to see Game Grumps live in Indy tonight. Good show, loved Dad in the beginning. Arin and Dan were awesome as always.

Great time with the kid.

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For the majority of my life, I was raised in a "christian" household, with all the bigotry and the like that came with it. As I've grown up, I realize that the Christianity I believe in is not what's being taught in a lot of churches.

Jesus was a rebel, a philanthropist that would sit with prostitutes, tax collectors (( which were seen as being just as bad as prostitutes)), the poor and hungry. Jesus loved, cared and served people. He didn't judge, he loved, no matter who you were.

I know I was happiest when I cared/served/helped others, until my willingness to help was constantly taken advantage of and I grew hurt from it.

Too many people use an interpretation of the Bible to spread hate and divide instead of what Jesus spoke of which was fellowship, love and community. I'm sure I'll lose followers cos of this and that's ok. I don't hate you, I don't wish you ill no matter what your circumstances in life.

I love you and I hope you are doing well in life, I hope you've found love in any form and some semblance of peace and joy.

[preachersooc]

I don't think people understand how privileged they are truly compared to others.

You can pay your bills and even have some to set aside in case of an emergency? Lucky you.

You can actually get help with your mental health? Lucky you.

You actually have hope? Lucky you.

For the first time ever in our relationship, my s/o told me last night they were scared that I may actually unalive myself with how unhopeful and downtrodden I am.

And I am unhopeful and downtrodden. I live paycheck to paycheck with maybe 20 bucks left to pay for medication for my family, forgoing mine most of the time.

I'm a sinking ship without a lifeboat and I can't even see any flotsam to grab hold of.

But it's ok... I'm privileged.