#dear god lord almighty WHAT IN THE HELL

[ntwhlvndthnks]

THE ENDING BRO THE ENDING THE ENDING BROOOOO THE FUCKING ENDINGGGGG FUCK YOU MEAN I GOTTA WAIT UNTIL THE 4TH OF FUCKIN JULY

[lesbianwyllravengard]

Yeah I saw that post, it’s actually what I was referencing here. They turned off reblogs because they’re a fucking coward. And dead wrong.

Markus’s painting, Identity -> Prisoner, is perhaps the MOST obvious clue that not only Markus is fucking enslaved, just like the other androids, and that Carl is his enslaver, but he knows it. Even before deviating, he knew. Just because Carl is nice doesn’t mean shit. Markus’s existence with Carl was always one of captivity, never one of freedom.

Markus painting because Carl told him to isn’t "Carl letting Markus paint because he enjoys it” it’s Carl forcing Markus to paint because Markus has to follow his orders.

Markus reading or tapping a few keys on the piano or playing chess isn’t “Carl being so nice letting Markus do whatever he wants” it’s Carl telling Markus to do something - something from one of the predetermined “allowed” things, such as reading, playing piano, or chess - while Carl eats his breakfast that Markus made for him and literally served on a silver fucking platter. 

Anything that Carl does “for Markus” is just to make himself feel better about owning a slave. So long as Carl owns Markus, he cannot be free. Markus was a slave, just like every other android.

can't reblog from op but i saw the post that said "Markus is always like "we're not their slaves anymore" my brother in Christ you were painting, reading philosophy and playing the piano" AND IT ACTUALLY LEFT ME SPEECHLESS??? how do thousands of people play the same game and yet draw the most incorrect, insulting conclusions about the MAIN PROTAGONIST OF SAID GAME. like if you took five seconds to examine markus' supposed "happy life" while living with carl, it would be made abundantly clear that his existence parallels living in a golden cage: pretty from the outside, but a harsh reality within. markus was still owned, he was still considered property, just bc carl was "different" from other android owners in the sense that he ALLOWED (key word) markus to learn how to play piano and paint doesn't mean he was happy or less of a "slave" from other androids. he didn't understand that there was more to gain from life, he didn't know what genuine freedom felt like until he was reborn that night in the junkyard. ALSO IF YOU LOOK AT ANY OF MARKUS' PAINTINGS YOU WOULD INSTANTLY BE PROVEN WRONG??? not one of his artworks support this supposed "carefree, easy" life that op is claiming markus experienced: his paintings are dark, they depict feeling trapped and angry, they're drawn with raw and heavy brushstrokes, his art is meant to convey what he was thinking before discovering deviancy. sure, markus might have had a "healthier than most" upbringing when compared to other androids, but that doesn't diminish or erase the fact that he was seen as nothing more than a possession, forbidden from making his own decisions and belittled when he finally took a justified stance on free will from carl himself. (idk, i really hate when people don't understand the importance and/or the most basic foundations of his entire character so i fear i must be a bitter and defensive markus stan until the end of time)

[nemzd]

Purification and Order in a place no diffrent then hell~

Part 03/??

Everyone was sleeping soundly in heaven, everyone one, except the man in your arms, Archangel Raphael, while you were peacefully sleeping holding Raphael in your arms, the man has opened his eyes.. and just looked at you,..I mean who wouldnt? The Lord, maker of heaven and Earth left heaven.. and is in the presence of a mortal.. his Spirit, the Spirit of God... he can feel him... but he can also feel.. that if he attacks you, or tries anything on you..the lord will severly punish him. For hurting the chosen one, chosed by God himself for some kind of task, would anger God truly.

As he thought many things.. he looked at your chest, where he was naturaly lying his head on.. he just looked your chest and saw the mark of a Angel and not only that ... but your shirt was also ripped off... he knew which angel would dare to do so..

Raphael:..Micheal.. what big sin are you gonna commit with hurting this human?.. Oh dear..

...

(Now it may come a bit weird but hope it still sticks to it)

As he said those words, he traced his finger on your chest, removing the brand left by Micheal on you.

He just looked at your face.

Raphael:If God has chosen this mortal as a vessel .... then who am I to hurt and go against the divine will of God?...

...

He said those words.. he felt.. wonderful for the first time in a long time.. he couldnt explain how this human had the Spirit of the Lord... nor why he felt so comfortable on sight seeing this human and how they were able to calm him down to such a decree... He was happy to say the least.. he tried to touch your face but then you moved slightly, which he knew and meant that you were about to wake up.

He stood up and saw a nearby chair, and stood up to get a chair for himself to sit near you, while you felt moved and shifted, you groaned and opened your eyes.. and saw him, Raphael in his full glory.

You tried to remember what happend last time and then remembered it fully.. you were in heaven, in heaven my dear! But the moment you began to smile you stopped it, realizing something.. what was told to you by Micheal the Archangel.. was partly true... because you know the feeling of being in the presence of God... but here in heaven where it should feel the most intense.. it isnt diffrent then being in earth... oh dear.. what has happend?..

You turned your eyes to Raphael, the Archangel.. and looked at him.. he then spoke.

Raphael:.. ......Mortal.. how are you able to speak with the almighty lord himself... How?!

...

He said to you, the moment ??? has brought you here.. and that even Micheal came to you.. and now that he also realised you were marked by him.. just shook him.. and when you prayed.. oh dear.. he felt the lords presence once more.. and not only that.. his Holy Spirit.. is inside of you... it hurts his head even just thinking of it!.. And that he chose a mortal... over his own angels.. his own servants.. just.. it hurt him...

You:... I dont know.

Your simple but direct answer.. Just made him stare at you.

Raphael:...HOW DO YOU NOT KNOW?!

...

You: How am I supposed to know? In your eyes I am just a sinner aint I?.. One worth of death, the only reason I am in such a close relationship with God, even closer then you angels seem to be with him.Is because Jesus Christ, my Lord and Saviour, so yea my God is the most gracious, most perfect and loving being in all of existence!

...

Saying those words made you feel good, not only were you always on the side of God but it also made you feel like you done the right thing, and these exact words shocked Raphael, even though it did make him angry to some sense... it made him realise.. what he himself lacked that you seemed to have a abudance of.. and that is love.... so he took you by your hand, sliced off the chain off your wrist and took you by arm... and dragged you outside the room... he was gonna bring you into the "Throne room of God"...

At a diffrent diffrent place~

Micheal felt something odd.... he didnt feel the human that branded and marked with his own blood.. it made him stand up in horror trying to run to where you were but someone else stopped him.

???:.. Micheal, dont be that hasty, stay calm, how far can a mortal come in this realm?.. you got nothing to worry about, so just sit down.. and I make sure that the Angels bring them back to their chambers.. So dont worry.

...

Micheal:... I will take care of it myself Gabriel.. and dont you try hurting them in any way.. they might be our only key into finding out where God is...

...

He said those words with a malice intend, not intending to spare the man even a moment before he walked through the doory not sparing a second at Gabriel...

Gabriel:..You may try something.. but dont you dare get in my ways.. because that human.. will be mine.

...

Said Gabriel as he smilled happily to himself.... oh well will this be finally happening?.. He doesnt know.. but it will make it a worth while experince.. he chuckles to himself.

Back to you

He still dragged you around the corridors, yes you knew heaven was supposed to be very large but you didnt expect it to be this large!.. But on the way waiting infront of the door to the throne room of God.. you saw a familiar person... wait thats Archangel Micheal!

You nudged at Raphael and said that he should see who has come.. and when he waited.. Raphael saw him.. someone he didnt particuliarly like.. Micheal.

Micheal came nearer you.. you off course forgetting your Shirt was ripped and your chest exposed, he couldnt just watch this.. and he threw.. a garment on you?..

Micheal:.. Cover yourself with that and return to your chambers, right this instant..

...

Raphael just looked at the both of you... a but shocked.. normaly anyone that breaks the commands of Micheal or even does a poor job, would have been killed.. no matter if it was a angel or a demon...

Micheal(Thoughts):.. They didnt leave.. huff.. I cant let them leave after finally being in the lords presence after so many years.. and the mark... Raphael seemed to have broken it... ha.. then I just add a new one..

...

Micheal once again took his sword and sliced his arm once more, he threw his blood on your hand this time... he just smilled and looked at Raphael with a cold glare.

Micheal:.. If you try to break that mark again.. I be having your head next Raphael, and also dont try to make the human go with their chest like that now return with the human to their chambers.. tommorow I have some plans for them..

...

He said and looked at you with a smirk, he then left... Raphael even though he also is a Archangel wanted no smoke with Micheal.. even though he didnt wanna hear his lousy brothers command.. he had to obligate...

Raphael:...You heard him mortal.. time to return you back to your chamber... ha..

He took your small frame.. wrapped you like a Burrito in the garment which was obviously almost twice your size.. and held you in his arms.. like a bride.. and then he walked into the way of your chamber... all through the way you have been silent.. at times you looked at his face... which was.. beautiful but.. he had a eyepatch.... you didnt know why.. but when you tried to reach for his face.. another bright light emited.. but this time.. it wasnt just any light.. the light seemed to be green in colour.. and when Raphael saw this he was stiff as a stone.. Just watching what happend....... he .. felt something.. he removed his eyepatch.. and his face felt.. much warmer.. he ran into your room, with you in burrito style in his arms.. he threw you onto the bed and ran to your desk in your chamber.... he saw .. his face was completly healed.. and his.. eye.. he could see again with that eye.. he looked at you with wide disbelief..... but then he smilled at you.

Raphael:.. You truly are a blessing from the lord... thank you.

And with that, he left the room.. leaving you puzzled.. normaly this shouldnt have happend.. and this doesnt happen in around 2 days!.. Oh dear.. you pray to the Lord that everything will go according to his will.. and then.. simply layed there on your bed.. snoring and sleeping in your burrito garment...

Somewhere else

...

???.. just smiled.. he seemed to be happy...

???:.. My dear spouse.. they have returned.. oh how exciting this will be, Darling I am waiting for you♡

(Cliffhanger :D)

Huff, this took some time to think through but for now I am done, I know I am technicly late but still HAPPY EASTERN SUNDAY, HE HAS RISEEEEEEN HALLELUJA!!!!!!,!^-*+&'KYXL

God bless ya all and stay blessed my readers.

[daisies-on-a-cup]

sacrificial son

I confess to almighty God and to you, my brothers and sisters,

that I have greatly sinned,

in my thoughts and in my words,

in what I have failed to do,

through my fault, through my fault,

through my most grievous fault.

-Penitential Act

When his daddy leaves him with the Benoits for four days, Will hears the Penitential Act for the first time.

It is during Sunday mass at noon, sharp, at Our Lady of Mercy Catholic Church, an hour away from the Benoit’s home. Mrs.Benoit had done something with his hair, oiled and greased it up into a crumpled slick back that his curls barely tolerated. It itched along his scalp, but he didn’t dare touch it. Beside him, the Benoit’s young son, Richard, sits with a similar hair arrangement, though much more suited for his thin, dark blond hair.

The air in the church is stuffy and warm, and there’s more rain to come after the morning shower, but it’s only been half an hour and there’s yet another to go. Mr.Benoit is reading up on the altar, his slow, mumbling scripture a lulling thing that makes Will want to fall asleep. Though kind enough to take the poor son of Louis Graham whenever a job came calling, they were strict and unwilling to compromise on the subject of saving lost souls and keeping theirs from the deepest pits of Hell.

Will reminds himself of that as he feels his eyes slipping, shying from the sharp pinch Mrs.Benoit gives him when she notices his slumped posture. Around him, he can feel the similar strictness kept by the righteous parents of sleepy, bored children, a split line of rapturous attention and drooling ignorance. Those most devoted are sat closest to the front, where Will, the Benoits, and a mix of elderly widows and ever-grievers sit with heads bowed low and eyes following through every passage. 

When Father John stands, everyone else does too. When Father John sits, everyone kneels. It is a kind of submission that makes Will want to get to his knees in earnest compliance. Beyond the bored, misunderstanding attention of the various children in attendance, there are the true believers that raise their hands to the church ceiling and speak to the Lord with holy tongues and confessions. It is a kind of honest begging that confuses Will in his own stance of to-believe-or-not-to-believe.

His daddy doesn’t believe in God. Louis Graham says God doesn’t give enough of a damn to exist, and even if He did, God wouldn’t want to involve Himself in their mess. God was too busy.

Mr.Benoit says God is always watching and knows everything you do and say, and that when the day of Judgement comes, He will know exactly where to send you. The Non-Believers will be sent to Hell, and the Believers will be seated at the right hand of the Father in perfection for all eternity.

To Will, 11 years old and only just beginning middle school, the choice to believe-or-not seems obvious. If all you have to do is say you believe in God to get to Heaven, then it was no small task. William Graham believes in God like he believes his daddy will come back for him after his latest job finishes. Louis Graham will come to the Benoits with thanks but no money to pay them for their time and trouble, and they’ll celebrate with self-caught catfish and some red beans and rice for dinner.

It was easy to believe in God, in this way. Surrounded by faithful believers with their heads bowed, kneeled before Jesus Christ, bloodied and awesome and looming over the congregation. It was easy to believe in God and his sacrificial Son. It was easy to bow his head and fold his hands, mimicking the True Believers in body and word.

“Dear God,” he mouths, shutting his eyes tightly so he doesn’t have to watch the way Mrs.Benoit says affair, “I’m sorry I sinned. I believe in you. Even though my daddy doesn’t, I’ll believe in you enough for the both of us. Sorry again, God. Amen.”

He stays kneeling for an extra minute, knowing that getting up too soon is a sin to those that notice, and when he sits back in his chair, Richard is already seated and picking at his nose. Will looks away when the boy wipes his finger on the pages of his Bible, and waits for everyone else to finish.

When it finally comes time for everyone to get in line, a long, anxious procession for the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ, Mrs.Benoit gently holds Will’s shoulders and tells him to cross his arms. The grandmotherly figure that holds out the bowl of what looks like, to Will, wafers, smiles at him and waves her hand over his body in the sign of the Cross. 

“Peace be with you.”

“Amen,” says Will.

“The Body of Christ.”

“Amen,” says Mrs.Benoit.

Will watches as Mrs.Benoit sticks out her tongue, patient as the old grandmother carefully places a wafer on it. Mrs.Benoit is secretly displeased. She doesn’t like receiving it this way. She doesn’t like having to chaperone Will, an outsider, during her holy hour. She wishes Mr.Benoit didn’t constantly leave her alone with Richard. She wishes she could really, truly worship like she wants to. She wishes God would save her.

They shuffle back to their pew, where they kneel in prayer and submission again, and Will thinks about the Penitential Act. His fault, his fault, what he has failed to do. 

To Will, true worship seems like one endless apology for existing. Or, at least, failing to exist in the right way.

“Dear God,” he mouths again, resting his head on the pew in front of him, “Please let Mrs.Benoit know I’m sorry. She would be happier alone, so please help her be alone. She loves you. Also, please tell my daddy to come get me soon. I am sorry for sinning. Sorry, God. Amen.”

When they leave mass, Mr.Benoit turns on the radio and Gospel music sings like static in their cramped car. Mrs.Benoit’s arms and legs are crossed and Richard is still picking his nose. The clouds above them are dense and heavy with foretold rain, and Will lays his head against the passenger window.

Will’s belief in God strengthens when he sees his daddy’s old truck sitting in the Benoit’s front yard, a skinny man smoking a cigarette in a way Will has only ever known Louis Graham to do leaning against it. As soon as the car is parked, Will launches himself out and directly into his daddy’s hard arms, big hand digging into his hair and mussing up the tacky grease.

“Thanks ‘fer takin’ my boy,” says Louis, stubbing out his cigarette beneath his shoe. “‘M very grateful for it.”

Mr.Benoit reaches out a hand to shake. “He was a joy to have. You can leave him with us anytime.”

Will looks at Mrs.Benoit and watches the way her demure pink lipstick seems to ripple on her lips like a living thing. Richard clutches at his mother’s dress, hiding from the man that smells like rotted fish and tobacco. He is afraid. Will waves once at the boy and climbs into his daddy’s truck.

The Benoit family stands in their driveway to wave off the Grahams, Richard still tucked away in his mother’s arms, and Will watches their figures drift into the background in the rearview mirror. He can already smell the downpour on its way, and when he turns to his daddy, there’s another cigarette in his mouth. 

“The fishin’ was good?” asks Will, seatbelt digging into the flesh under his chin. He’s too small to be in the front seat but his daddy lets him anyway.

“Redfish, catfish, snappas’, bass,” his daddy lists off, mouth crooked in the best smile he can manage with his stained teeth and busted lips from too many fights. “We gonna eat good tonight, boy.”

God is good, Will thinks as he fiddles happily in his seat. He answered my prayers.

They eat catfish and red beans and rice for dinner that night, and his daddy even lets him try a sip of his beer. Will doesn’t even mind when his daddy laughs in his face after he spits it out. 

He goes to bed full and warm and happy to be home, and the next morning during breakfast, Louis Graham sighs and says, with little ceremony, something bad happened last night.

“‘M sorry, boy,” says his daddy, skin tight around the eyes. “The Benoits… the boy and his daddy. They died last night in a… in a car accident. The roads, y’know, they just get so damn slick after a rain. ‘M sorry, boy. Sorry ‘bout your friend.”

Will doesn’t say anything immediately. All he can think about is what Mr.Benoit said about God. What God said about Himself. How he killed His one and only Son for the good of the world. Will wonders if Mrs.Benoit is happier now. He doesn’t think so.

“I’m sorry,” whispers Will, his daddy stilling like a storm. “It’s all my fault. I didn’t mean for God to listen so good.”

“What ‘chu mean, boy? What’re you on about?”

“I’m sorry, daddy, I really am. She was so sad and she was tired and I thought God would help her. I thought I could help her.”

“No, none of dat nonsense, ya’ hear me? Hush up and eat your food.” 

“It’s my fault. It’s all my fault, daddy. I prayed that Mrs.Benoit would be alone and God heard me and killed them. I didn’t mean it, I didn’t mean nothing by it, I was just trying to help–”

Louis slams a fist against their rickety table and Will’s fork falls to the ground like thunder.

“I said enough! Tweren’t nobody’s fault but the roads. God didn’t listen to no little boy like you and kill ‘em, ya’ hear? It’s a damn shame what happen’, but it ain’t no one’s fault. ‘Specially not yours.” His daddy sighs and leans over to scoop more red beans onto his poor son’s plate. “Now eat. Tears never helped nobody ‘cept the Devil. You ain’t doin’ no one any good like dat, so stop your crying. You can feel sad later. Now eat, boy.”

Too busy trying to stop crying, Will doesn’t move to pick up his fork. He watches as his daddy bends his bony back to pick it up, and Will counts four ridges through his thin shirt before Louis straightens and places the utensil gently by his son’s plate. His daddy goes quiet, timidly chewing on his leftover rice, ever and always regretful of a temper written marrow-deep, and Will wishes he knew how to be a good son. One good enough for God to listen to and hear right. Maybe even one good enough for him to have been named Issac instead of William.

Louis Graham deserved that at least after God took his Mary.

They are not invited to the funeral. From a street corner, they watch the funeral procession drive by and Will sees Ms.Benoit sitting in the passenger seat of the hearse. Will had been told before that only the dead rode in that car. He grips his daddy’s hand hard as he accepts that truth. When his daddy asks him if he wants to visit his friend’s grave, Will shakes his head and stops himself from saying it would only scare the boy. 

After that, Louis Graham is careful to choose neighbors that don’t go to church. This becomes an impossible task and after two weeks of trying to beg a job for a few more days of wiggle room, Louis Graham sits his son down and shows him how to hold a gun.

“You don’t touch it unless you’re in danger,” says his daddy, a cold light in his eyes as he looks at the portrait of his one and only son holding a thing that could kill him as much as save him. “An’ you don’t open dat door for no one. Not the neighbors, not the police, not God– no one. Ya’ hear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What’d I say?”

“Don’t touch the gun and don’t open the door.”

Louis Graham stares at his son hard for a moment, sucking in his hollow cheeks, before squeezing his small son’s shoulders. He looks too much like his mother, and Louis Graham is familiar with how jealous God can be. He hopes his blood has been enough to dilute the goodness within his son. He hopes it’s enough to keep him here. He hopes his son will stay.

“You know how ta’ work the stove. There’s lots of food in the fridge ‘n pantry. Go to bed at 8 o’clock sharp, ya’ hear?”

“Yes, sir.”

His daddy nods to himself once, then twice, before clearing his throat and standing. “I’ll be back on Wednesday.” That is three days from now. His daddy wants to say more but can’t. Will understands anyway. “Be good.” 

“Yes, sir.”

When his daddy leaves, Will hides the gun in a kitchen drawer and tries not to think about it. He turns on the TV and flips through channels and doesn’t think about the knife his daddy showed him how to use when he was 9, resting in a drawer next to the gun. It’s a gutting knife. For fish. Will tries not to think about using it for anything else.

On one of the channels, a priest is reading. His robes are red and Will thinks they look like the color of his daddy’s working shirt. His daddy’s shirts start out white. 

The priest’s voice wavers through the TV, and his grave eyes seem to sink into the pixels. “Those who live according to the flesh have their minds set on what the flesh desires; but those who live in accordance with the Spirit have their minds set on what the Spirit desires.” 

A car backfires outside and Will jumps in his seat. For the last couple of weeks, he’s dreamt about Richard. He can’t remember the details of his face, but Richard is always crying and his skull is shaped the wrong way. Mr.Benoit is there, too, on his knees and praying. Loudly.

“The mind governed by the flesh is death, but the mind governed by the Spirit is life and peace. The mind governed by the flesh is hostile to God; it does not submit to God’s law, nor can it do so.” The TV priest pauses for a moment, grainy red robes fluttering around his hands as he scrutinizes a congregation beyond Will’s sight. “Those who are in the realm of the flesh cannot please God. Amen.”

Will turns off the TV before the imaginary people can answer. He feels queasy. Something inside of him itches and wants to go to the kitchen. He remains where he is. Later, like always, it will rain and his daddy will probably be out on his boat catching fresh fish for the local diners. Will wishes he could go with him, but his daddy says he’s not big enough to haul in the type of fish he catches. Says that a gator would eat him up quick, a tasty snack for its hungry teeth.

The day passes into the night, and like the good son he wants to be, Will goes to bed at 8 o’clock, and in the morning when he wakes, he heats up more leftovers on the stove like his daddy taught him, and spends another day like the one before. There is no priest on TV this time, but there is Tom & Jerry, and Will fills his head with funny cats and conniving mice and does his best to not think about the mangled boy in his dreams and the gun in the kitchen drawer.

When Wednesday finally comes, and Will hears his daddy’s keys jingle in the lock, Will waits anxiously by the door like a lost puppy and rushes to hold his daddy when he steps in. He smells like nicotine and the bayou, and Will begins to cry when his daddy says hello to him. He realizes he has not said a single word in three long days, and, left alone with nothing but his thoughts, he had begun to fear going to bed at night– fearful of little Richard and his wailing father that cursed God and begged loudly to be let into Heaven.

“Miss me, did ya’?” his daddy jokes, hobbling forward with his son clinging to his legs. “Didn’ get inta any trouble, right?”

“No, sir,” says Will, hiding his tears. He’s gotten better at it since his daddy last told him. “I was good.”

“An’ no one came to the door?”

“No one, no one at all.”

His daddy reaches down to ruffle Will’s hair. “Good boy. I brought some hush puppies from Mama Jones, if you’re hungry.”

They sit down together at their little table and when his daddy passes him a greasy bag, Will asks, “The fishin’ was good?”

His daddy smiles and lists off the wanted fish this time around (“Bass, trout, catfish, more snappas’.”), mentions a 10-foot gator he saw and was tempted to catch, and Will basks in the direct light of it. Three days was a long time to be alone. He had stopped going into the kitchen altogether on the second day and had spent the rest of his time hungry and frightened. He doesn’t want to confess that he stopped going to bed at 8 o’clock. He knows his daddy can tell he hasn’t been sleeping, but his daddy doesn’t mention it and keeps telling him he was a good boy for “holdin’ down the fort” and that he’s sorry he had to leave him alone for so long. 

Will tells him he didn’t mind. He knows it was what his daddy had to do. 

That night when they go to bed, Will lays awake and prays. He’s not sure he’s doing it right and he’s afraid that he is, that God is listening too closely to what he says, but Will feels as if he has no other choice. Mr.Benoit couldn’t get into Heaven, even with all his belief and faith. More and more dirt falls out from his mouth every time Will sees him. He is screaming in his grave and no one hears him. No one at all.

“Dear God,” whispers Will, glass words in the still air, “My daddy is good. Please let him go to Heaven if he dies one day. I believe in you enough for the both of us. Please let my daddy into Heaven. I know he’s sorry for… for things. He’s sorry. He’s so sorry all the time, I know he is. God, please let my daddy into Heaven.” 

He closes his eyes, about to sleep, but the horror of his prayer settles over him and Will folds his hands together in fervent terror. “God,” says Will, worried he’s not been quick enough, “Don’t kill my daddy to send him to Heaven. Please don’t kill my daddy. He’s all I got and I’m all he’s got. Don’t kill him yet, God. Please. Thank you. A-Amen.”

It is thankful, then, that Will thought to add that clause to his prayer. Mr.Benoit once said that each word is said to God, no matter the context, so it is best to be careful and mindful of your words. Such a warning reminds Will of the fables an old babysitter used to tell him, of other-worldly and wild creatures that would soon as give you a gift as curse you for your absent-minded, ill-thought requests. Midas’ Touch. An exchange of names. A wealth of absence.

Will is thankful, in the end, for his addition as his daddy lives through the night. He lives through the next day and night as well, and the days and nights after that. Weeks go by and his daddy keeps on living, stubbornly breathing in and exhaling tar through his yellowed and gray teeth. As Will grows older, his daddy lives so much at times Will regrets his adamant prayer. He gets a job just to pay for his daddy’s bail. He suffers the stares of his neighbors, the weight of his daddy’s drink, the cleaning of his mother’s grave behind their forgotten church.

It must be sacrilegious to think of God as like a fae creature, clever and wicked and jealous and vain. Will never goes back to church after the Benoits, listening to the bells ring far off in the distance with that same itch in his belly that originates from guns and gutting knives and a mother and sad father eaten whole. He thinks of penance, of forgiveness, for his thoughts. His failures. He acts with good intent and repents the ghastly dreams in his mind– horrors that don’t churn his stomach the way they should. 

Somebody jumps in front of a train on a Sunday. A kid down the street ODs. Someone’s Paw-paw puts a rifle in his mouth and sprays his porch red. A couple a few blocks away have a murder-suicide anniversary. A mass killer makes the news. Mr.Benoit’s screams are muffled underneath his mountain of dirt.

Will sees them in his dreams, all of them, and sometimes even when he’s awake and blinking, he sees their haunted faces, their purposes, and intents. 

She wanted to be noticed, for someone to finally take some time to look at her, even if it meant cleaning up her braids from the tracks. He thought things would get better, that nothing could possibly get worse, and that there was no harm in testing that theory. His son just got diagnosed with leukemia and he had life insurance to dole out. They were always going to end this way, unsatisfied but wholly starved for connection, someone to live with, someone to hold, and it didn’t matter what anyone else said because they would always be together. He got it in his head that he could start a movement, for their poor parish to finally be brought to the attention of the rest of this damn stupid state.

Mr.Benoit had climbed a ladder and ignored the loose screws. The hole was filling back up and he had lost the will to dig again.

Will doesn’t know how he knows these things but he just does and it terrifies him. He shies away from the news, shies away from the stories on people’s faces that latch onto him so tightly like a parasite on his person, and when his daddy asks him why he won’t look him in the eyes anymore, Will just shakes his head over and over again.

I know, he thinks. I know. God is punishing me because I know.

Biblical in proportion, this wild gift, this wretched curse, afflicted on him in the worst ways to be able to look evil in the eye and stare back. To know its gaze, to understand its meaning, to feel that itch, that same understanding that compels him forward and say I know. I know what you are, and you look like me.

The guilt that shakes him, these relentless thoughts that plague his brain so much it feels like a thousand second skins inside his own, is immeasurable. He doesn’t want to pray and ask God to make him better, to offer him a cure. He knows what praying does. 

But he also understands what evil does. And what happens to evil as a result. Will feels on the verge of spilling over, overflowing with these faults, untold and screaming in his head, and so he prepares. Preparation is key, his daddy used to say. Prepare for the worst. Don’t expect the best. To Will, the only kind of preparation for abominations like him were jails and prisons, officers in blue with guns on their hips and trigger fingers sworn on their badges.

To be born and labeled abomination, however, one must come from something. In the Bible, God gave birth to a universe. In that universe, Mary gave birth to Jesus Christ– a child created for the purpose of sacrifice. What must she have felt?

Will never met his mama. She died pushing him into the world, a birth and baptism drenched in viscera and lifeblood that Will choked on with his first breath. His daddy never says much about her, a secret he keeps locked so deeply in his heart that recognition of even her name comes slowly when it rains, and Will knows better than to ask. But he knows. Knows and recognizes the same in a dead woman he never met. 

Sarah was 90 when she birthed Issac. She named him after laughter. 

His mama was only 20 when she died. The French said William meant resolute protector. 

It is no secret he has failed. His fault, his fault, what he has failed to protect. He scrubs her stone with dollar store toothbrushes and tears he’s never cried. He hopes that she is in Heaven. He hopes that God does not exist. He no longer knows what to believe. 

It is no wonder, then, that God has always been so vengeful and jealous, liable to give a blessing as He is to take it away.

He never wanted to harm anyone. Preparation is key and Will prepares himself to be arrested and punished for the crimes he fears he’ll one day enact on behalf of the faith in his veins. That reckless, hopeful faith that drives people to pray and kill and beg and slaughter and maim and gut and drain. Like fish. 

The fishin’ was good? Tamika, James, Lawson, Paul, Ruth and Carson, Gabriel Benoit. 

Will Graham knows all about faith and fish. Knows all about Heaven and Hell. What God does to the people he has recklessly created. The Father and His Son and their Holy Spirit. A trinity that relies on sacrifice. Sacrificial sons. Sacrificial lambs bled on the altar. A birth and baptism and a fall from grace, down dug holes and shallow graves. Will knows.

He knows because he went to church.

[childofchrist1983]

Throughout the New Testament in the Holy Bible, we see examples of Jesus giving water to those who are thirsty. While this holy water is symbolic for the water of life that only comes from believing in Jesus Christ and His selfless sacrifice, Jesus also tells His followers that if they give actual water to those who are thirsty, because they follow Him and do this selfless action also for Him, they will be rewarded. Those serving Jesus should not just be sharing the Gospel worldwide with others, but also giving to those in need of food and drink. We are called to help those in need – Even if it begins with simply and selflessly offering a cup of water.

May we make sure that we give our hearts and lives to God and take time daily to seek and praise Him and share His Truth with the world. May the LORD our God and Father in Heaven help us to stay diligent and obedient and help us to guard our hearts in Him and His Word daily. May He help us to remain faithful and full of excitement to do our duty to Him and for His glorious return and our reunion in Heaven as well as all that awaits us there. May we never forget to thank the LORD our God and our Creator and Father in Heaven for all this and everything He does and has done for us! May we never forget who He is, nor forget who we are in Christ and that God is always with us! What a mighty God we serve! What a Savior this is! What a wonderful Lord, God, Savior and King we have in Jesus Christ! What a loving Father we have found in the Almighty God! What a wonderful God we serve! His will be done!

Thanks and glory be to God! Blessed be the name of the LORD! Hallelujah and Amen!

Dear Father God Almighty, LORD Jesus, allow me to see those who are in need and show me how to meet their basic needs as well as their spiritual needs. Help me not to overlook how serving in simple ways shows Your light and love. Give me opportunities to love others following Your example. Thank you not only dying on the cross for me and saving me from my sins and the Hell punishment they come with, but for being the perfect example of light and love for all mankind. May I live a life that serves and pleases You and brings others to You and Your soul-saving Gospel Truth. Help me to live a life that honors You and Your Word and will forever and always.

You and Your Holy Word and Spirit give us hope, peace, salvation, and so much more! Let our relationship with You be the foundation and pleasing in Your eyes, so that we may hear Your praise as we gaze upon Your face and enter Your Kingdom. Lift our spirits and our hearts. Light up our lives, O Lord. May we abide in You for all our days and beyond!

You are Alpha and Omega, the Beginning and the End! We know Your promises are true and we place our hope in You! May we continue to pray and seek You. Present us with daily opportunities to go to others with Your message of eternal salvation. May we live our lives with a spirit of thankfulness and may we always magnify You, O Lord. Allow our praises to You encourage others to seek Your face. Help us all to be humble and obedient to You. And help us to be courageous enough to seek You daily and to humbly and faithfully do our duty to You, spreading the truth of Your Gospel to all in all nations, as You commanded before You ascended back to Heaven (Mark 16:15-16). May our lives show the world Your light and Truth and that You are a loving God and Heavenly Father who delights in showing love and mercy. May we all be humbly and faithfully honored and excited to worship, glorify and serve You daily and to do Your will. You have been so good to us, far more than we as wretched sinners deserve. You are so good! So wonderful! Forever and always!

Thank you for keeping me and helping me in times where I am tempted to go astray. Praise be to You today and every day of my life and let me never forget all of the blessings that are given me by You. As much as the enemy will try, he will never be able to successful breed doubt about who You are, in the minds of anyone who truly believes and follows You. And I will follow and serve You all the days of my life and beyond! Thank you for the connection with You that we are given through Your Holy Word and Spirit. Thank you, O Lord, for all Your creation and Your miraculous ways. Thank you for being our stronghold and my refuge. Thank you for seeing us as worth the sacrifice. Thank you for sustaining us, loving us and defining us according to Your will and love for us. Thank you for making sure we are taken care of. Thank you for being the best friend we could ever have! Thank you for Your endless mercy and love that has saved us. Thank you for always protecting us and providing for us and for Your Spirit to help us when we are in need. Thank you for abiding within me and may I abide with You, my Lord. Thank you for giving us a chance to be saved from our sin and spend eternity with You. Thank you for adopting us as part of Your family in Heaven and making us one of Your own. Thank you for being our present help in times of trouble (Psalm 46:1). Thank you for always being near and for loving us. Thank you for giving us a reason to love others and so many more reasons to love, praise, serve and follow You. Thank you for Your selfless and sinless sacrifice. Thank you for Your guidance and protection. Thank you for Your Truth and light. Thank you for Your wisdom and strength and grace. Thank you for giving life to the world and to us. You give and take away – And we thank you for it. Thank you for everything! Your will be done! Blessed be Your mighty name! To You and Your Kingdom be the glory forevermore! In Your name we humbly pray, Amen and amen

[renee-writer]

Loved Her First Chapter 83

AO3

Jamie and Claire stood in front of the Willow Tree where Brianna and her baby were buried.

 

Jamie gently laid the flowers down in front of the carved Cross that Murtagh had made for the graves.

 

When Lizzie had protested that surely Brianna did not deserve a Cross, that her soul had gone to Hell, Murtagh had given the lass such a fierce look she had drawn back in fear.

 

“Brianna’s soul was pure. Her grief is what took her from us ye ken. God orders us to hate the sin, and love the sinner. And if the Almighty himself can love her and allow her into Heaven, we shall honor that.” Murtagh said firmly.

 

No more had been said about that, though Lizzie did look contrite later.

 

Claire wrapped her arm around Jamie’s waist, and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

 

She had worried that Jamie would pull away from the twins due to Brianna’s death, but if anything, he had pulled closer to Caelan and Ainslie, he hardly let the babies from his side.

 

He rested his head on top of Claire’s dark hair.

 

“I worry after Faith; she seems to be taking this so hard.” Claire said softly.

 

“I ken, but she has Ian to lean on, she will be alright.”

 

“I hope so.”

 

The pair went silent as they prayed over their Daughter and Granddaughter’s graves.

 

 

 

Ian sighed softly as he walked into the small cabin carrying a bucket of water.

 

Once again, Faith was sitting in a Rocking Chair, staring out the cut window. She had not really been doing much of anything since Brianna had left them.

 

Oh she tended to the babies, made sure they were well fed and clean. But herself, she was not tending to. She had not bathed in the weeks since Brianna had died, she was hardly eating, just enough to keep her milk flowing.

 

She was slowly disappearing before him.

 

Or so she thought, Ian had had enough.

 

He poured the bucket of water into the tin tub and turned to his Wife.

 

She barely glanced at her Husband as he moved toward her.

 

She hardly flinched when he lifted her into his arms.

 

She screamed when he dumped her unceremoniously into the water.

 

“Ian! What are you doing?”

 

“Scrubbing you. My Wife stinks to high Heaven, I canna have that.”

 

She glared at him as he grabbed the soap bar and rubbed it across her arm.

 

“YOUR wife? You talk about me as if I am your property!”

 

“Aye, in the eyes of the law, ye are. MY property, under MY ownership; no more than a Coo or a Horse. And like all property, I canna have you looking sae terrible, what would the neighbors say?”

 

She glared at him and took a swing at him. He grabbed her wrist and used the opportunity to loosen her laces to rub the soap across her chest and armpits.

 

“How DARE you treat me like this!”

 

“Well how else am I supposed to treat you? You dinna care about yourself, so I clearly must, and thus I must be nothing more than a Master tending to his Livestock.”

 

Tears filled her eyes and her lips trembled even as she glared.

 

“You don’t understand at all!”

 

“That’s where you’re wrong, I DO understand. Do you think you are the only one to lose someone near and dear? Has lost a sibling? It may be a rarity In your time my darling Faith, but here, it’s a miracle if everyone makes it. And it hurts, but would Brianna want you to succumb to the pain?”

 

Faith shook her head as tears fell down her cheeks.

 

“N-No she wouldn’t.”

 

“Of course she no would! Jeremiah is going to need us; Fin is going to need us. We canna be islands unto ourselves, we must rally together.”

 

She nods and wraps her arms around her Husband, holding on for dear life.

 

“I love you Ian.”

 

“I love you too, Faith.

 

 

 

While Faith was having her impromptu bath, Jeremiah was making his way to where Jamie was working on a fence.

 

He cleared his throat once he arrived, and Jamie turned to look at him.

 

“Jeremiah, how do you fare?”

 

“Alright my Lord Fraser. Fin is missing his Mam very much.”

 

“I imagine you are missing your Wife just as much.”

 

“Aye sir.”

 

“What can I do for you?”

 

“I um wish to tell ye that you can have your land back.”

 

Jamie stared at the young man in shock.

 

“And why would I do that?”

 

“Because my living on the land was contingent on being married to Brianna and s-she is gone.”

 

“And you would think that I would just toss my son in law and wee grandson off the land?”

 

Jeremiah swallowed hard and nodded.

 

“Do you take me for a fool Jeremiah?”

 

“No sir.”

 

“Then why would you take me as someone so foolish to do such a thing?”

 

“I-”

 

“You will remain on this land and clear it, per our agreement. Claire and I will help you tend to Fin, as will Faith and Ian when she feels a bit better.”

 

Jeremiah swallowed as Jamie placed his hands on the lad’s shoulders.

 

“You were the man my daughter loved above all else. You may be a blithering idiot at times, but she saw your worth. I do as well.

 

Jeremiah sniffled and Jamie hugged him tight, the two men grieving together.

 

 

 

That night, Jamie stepped into his cabin to see Ian sitting with Claire, writing in the Family Bible.

 

Jamie’s heart dropped. “Ian? Is it Faith?”

 

Ian looked up at his Uncle and shook his head with a smile.

 

“She had a bath, ate some soup, and is sleeping. I finally got her to see reason. Took a little force, but here we are.”

 

Jamie smiled and sat down. “I am glad, is she alright.”

 

Ian nodded. “It will take a bit to heal, but I think we are on the other side now. I have sent for my friend Aksel; I met him at University, as did Jeremiah. I think it would be beneficial for Jeremiah as he and Aksel got very close there. I hope that’s alright, Aksel can live on my and Faith’s land.”

 

Jamie shook his head. “There is plenty of room on the Ridge for everyone. We will sort it out when he comes; IF he comes.”

 

“I am sure he will.”

 

Ian visited a bit longer and then handed the Bible to Jamie.

 

“You should read this Uncle, it might help you a bit.”

 

Confused, Jamie opened the Bible as the door shut behind Ian.

 

Written on the first page, under Births were the words:

 

Born to Faith and Ian Murray:

 

Grace Elizabeth Murray

 

Mercy Brianna Murray

 

Hope Jasmine Murray

 

Jamie touched the words gently and sobbed for joy and pain.

[pyrriax]

hmmm pandora or melody for the ask game? :) i am SO interested in them !!!

OOOOO okay you get a two-for-one because I can!!

I'm putting this below a read-more because christ almighty it's long, lol

PANDORA:

One aspect about them I love

I love the fact he sticks to his beliefs & is genuinely consistent with how he treats others. It causes so many issues (especially later on when that really gets challenged) but also is part of why I think he's as compelling as he is.

One aspect I wish more people understood about them

Oh my god. My main one: he is not a good person. Not At All. Yes that hinges off his past, no it's not part of what I've shown so far. He remembers tasting blood for a reason, man! And he did not lose a fight to end up in that situation!

One (or more) headcanon(s) I have about this character

Okay I'm gonna talk strictly headcanon with this! I definitely see him as being either nonbinary or genderqueer post-maze. Probably an any pronouns user, especially with demon culture not really focusing on strict gender stereotypes (though that's still a thing, just not as common in his experience). Oh dude Pandora would SO wear one of those long flowy skirts, that's absolutely his jam.

One character I love seeing them interact with

Accius!! I love him and Accius interacting, it brings me so much joy. Even if Pandora doesn't realize it, Accius looks up to him as an older brother type of figure. (Even if Pandora is only a couple of years older than them)

One character I wish they would interact with/interact with more

Oliver, 100%! Those two could've had such great chemistry and would've bounced off each other really well, but sadly that just doesn't get to happen :( I hold it dear regardless, and I'm totally gonna write something based around those two getting along because I think that'd be so sweet.

One (or more) headcanon(s) I have that involve them and one other character

Ooooh man this is tough! I'm gonna leave this one alone because my only idea right now is actually a plot point in the next two chapters and I don't wanna spoil anything (I see Dane reading this, silly creature :3)

MELODY:

One aspect about them I love

I love the way she talks!! I don't know how to really describe it, but the way she talks is just super fun to imagine + write. Also just I love how much her character and behavior comes from a place of love and grief, rather than hatred :)

One aspect I wish more people understood about them

I'm not intending for her to be a villain in this story, she's just somebody who's hurting and taking it out on others. I mean the whole scene in Chapter 15 (cicadas) was supposed to be showcasing that fact, even if it did mean she almost killed someone. She's quite literally just grieving in a horrible manor, and maybe he looks a little bit too similar to somebody, but that's not his fault.

[ Context since I know you haven't been reading! Melody approached Pandora when he was in the prison cell and almost ended up shooting him with her bow, but intentionally missed and walked away after. ]

One (or more) headcanon(s) I have about this character

OKAY I literally refuse to actualize this because I really dislike one-sided romance / pining and we already have one instance of that (Ivy being hopelessly in love with Accius) but I feel like Melody would absolutely have a crush on Lyra. Would I condone that crush? Hell no! Not for the fact it's lesbian, but for the fact that it would be so unhealthy it's painful. Lord.

One character I love seeing them interact with

Oh yes!! Nyx! I love how she interacts with Nyx, it's so natural and it makes total sense that she gets along with him, being a volunteer.

One character I wish they would interact with/interact with more

This is hard to choose, man! I wish she interacted more with Altair before [redacted] especially because of the fact they were always listening to what she said. But also, I wish she interacted more with Kato! Those two had such a good dynamic and I am SO upset it didn't get more screen time

[ You have: Person who was notorious for basically learning everything about a person & Person who refuses to say anything about themself unless it's life or death ]

One (or more) headcanon(s) I have that involve them and one other character

We're going canon again with this one!! I think her and Pandora absolutely used to practice fighting with each other, she did it out of some curiosity and ended up getting some of her memories back because of it :) They're actually really evenly matched in a battle, though she often held back when it came to anything ranged. Even if she hates him, she's not going to use the fact he has poor depth perception and a mostly-blind left eye against him.

On that topic!! She trained people in the clearing archery and was the one who showed Urki how to use a halberd, along with showing Accius about War Scythes. She's got a fair bit of weapons knowledge, since that used to be something she studied a lot! Mel is the combat teacher of the group, though a lot of people already had their preferences and specialties and just needed reminding.

[ Also I feel like she's DEFINITELY both gotten accidentally stabbed during training, and also definitely accidentally stabbed somebody. Both of which were probably from and to Pandora. Those two fought a lot. Ironically I don't think they ever actually physically fight after the first couple of months. They were closer than I showed in the condensed version of the story! Hatred leads people to knowing each other better than they wanted to :) ]

[yhwhrulz]

Charles Spurgeon's "Morning & Evening" Devotional for September 1

Morning

“The God of peace shall bruise Satan under your feet shortly.”

Mark 5:1-21

Mark 5:1-4

The evil spirit had made him wildly insane, and given him supernatural strength, so that he was a terror to the district over which he roamed, making night and day hideous with his terrible outcries.

Mark 5:6

The evil spirit was compelled to crouch at the Redeemer’s feet; this was a token of the casting of Satan beneath our feet which shall be accomplished shortly.

Mark 5:9

It would seem as if all the fallen angels were let loose upon men at that time, so that many crowded into one poor creature: but our Lord was more than a match for them. A legion of soldiers numbered six thousand men; how many devils there were within this poor man we cannot tell, but if there had been six millions Jesus could have conquered them.

Mark 5:10

They cling to this world and dread to return to their prison house.

Mark 5:12

They had sooner plague poor swine than have no ill work on hand.

Mark 5:13

A most just judgment upon their owners, who, as Jews, had no right to keep unclean animals.

Mark 5:16 , Mark 5:17

What folly! Yet many do this. They had rather not be impressed by the gospel, and therefore politely request it to go elsewhere. It will be an evil day for them if Jesus. grants their request, and leaves them for ever to themselves.

Mark 5:18 , Mark 5:19

Here was happy, holy, useful work for him. Such a task as Jesus has allotted to each of us.

The powers of hell agree

To hold our souls in vain;

He sets the sons of bondage free,

And breaks the cursed chain.

Th’ Almighty king of saints

Our tyrant lusts subdues,

Expels the demons from our minds,

And all our soul renews.

For our own cheerful voice

Shall loud hosannas raise;

Our hearts shall glow with gratitude,

Our lips proclaim his praise.

Evening

“If I may touch but His clothes, I shall be whole.”

Mark 5:22-43

Mark 5:22 , Mark 5:23

She was his only daughter, and therefore very dear. Her father’s faith was of the boldest kind, for he hoped to see her raised up even though at her last gasp; but it was not equal to that of the centurion who thought that Jesus could cure by a word without coming near.

Mark 5:25-28

Contact with Jesus is life, the touch of faith conveys healing virtue to the soul. Her disease rendered her timid, so that she came behind, and stole the cure; and yet her faith was unusually strong, many believed that Jesus could heal with a word, she alone believed that the very hem of his garment had healing power in it.

Mark 5:29-33

This was for her benefit. She might else have gone away believing that there was a power resident in Christ’s dress irrespective of his will; the Lord by showing that he knew what was done gave her clearer views of himself.

Mark 5:34-38

These were hired mourners who mimicked sorrow, and made loud lamentations.

Mark 5:40

Being quite sure that she was dead. Thus they became the best witnesses that there was no deception in her restoration to life.

Mark 5:42

Oh that Jesus in the power of his Spirit would go to the houses of his people, and raise all the spiritually dead. There are dear little maids whom we much love who have not the new life within them; we will pray for them, and hope that the word of the gospel will save them.

Mark 5:43

When we see young people converted, we should try to feed them with those truths which are intended to support and comfort their hearts.

In secret fear she came behind

And healing virtue stole,

But Jesus spake a loving word,

“Thy faith hath made thee whole.”

Like her, with hopes and fears I come

To touch thee if I may,

Oh! do not on thy servant frown,

But send me healed away.

Copyright Statement

This resource was produced before 1923 and therefore is considered in the "Public Domain".

[carolap53]

Dear heavenly Father, we worship You as the Almighty God, Maker of heaven & earth! May we, as Your children, always keep an attitude of being meek & lowly before Your throne. Lord, if we have any wisdom, knowledge & understanding, it is because You have enlightened us. I thank You for Your gift of Jesus to us, so that we do not have to go to hell & can now have our home in heaven w/ You. I am eternally grateful for Your love & sacrifice. It makes me ask the question David asked, "What is man, that thou art mindful of him? & the son of man, that thou visitest him?" I praise You for crowning us w/ Your glory & honor because of Jesus. Amen.

Betty Miller

[imthatqueerkid]

Dear tumblr I swear to God where the hell did my notifications go

I've been here for years what the hell I know how to make a post

Jesus lord almighty this really is a hellsite.

[faithisthekey-23]

Hi dear brothers and sisters in Christ,

I came here to talk to you about idolatry. I will talk about:

1. A definition of idolatry

2. Earthly things

3. How can we overcome having idols and desiring earthly things?

4. Scriptures about having idols and desiring earthly things

5. An animation that shows the consequences of these sins.

A definition of idolatry

A lot of people think that they don't worship the devil or don't commit the sin of idolatry because they claim themselves as Christians and have faith in God, Jesus and the Holy Spirit. However, just because you don't worship idols made of woods, metal etc. doesn't mean that you don't have any idols. I wanted to remind you that everything can be an idol, even a person that you idolise. An idol can be the music that you listen to, movies that you binge-watch, people from your life, games that you play and more. For an idol is everything that is our priority, takes the place of our God Almighty Who should always be the most important for us.

Earthly things

As humans, we desire earthly things as we are influenced by the environment of ours, in which the devil plays a huge part. He wants to do everything to take us from our Lord, Savior, Friend. Why? Lucifer is mad for he knows that God is way stringer and powerful than him and he knows that he has already lost the battle. However, he seeks revenge on God by trying to take His children away from God so that they don't live in Heaven with their One and True Heavenly Father. He does it by taking our attention from the One that we need the most — God — and putting our attention on earthly things: music, movies, series, videos, games, gossip, idolising popular people, badmouthing others, encouraging people to speak against someone, normalising hatred and loving the revenge — things that the world is crazy about. He know that he will perish in hell and doesn't want to be alone in all of this. That's why he wants you to go there with him. The devil wants you to think that his presence is better than God's Holy Presence by putting a lot of different hardships in your life. The closer to God you are, the more hardships the devil wants you to face for he knows that your faith is strong. He knows that you are no longer slave for him but are obedient to God and he knows that he has lost you and wants you back to torment you in hell and on earth. But don't you worry for the Scriptures says ”Ye are of God, little children, and have overcome them: because greater is he that is in you, than he that is in the world.” (1 John 4:4 KJV). Greater is the One Who arts in Heaven that he who rules on earth.

How can we overcome having idols and desiring earthly things?

Here are a few tips:

~ Find your identity in Christ. Remember that you were born again in Christ. Remember that God is here to help you and heal you. Remember that once you surrendered to Lord of Lords, you claimed to be His child. You are no longer slave to devil, but you are the beloved daughter/brother of Almighty. You no longer have to be obedient to satan and do what he tempts you to do, for you are safe in the Mighty Hands of God.

~ Prayer. Pray to Him to help you fight the desire to come back to sin, to come back to being the one you were before you were saved. Ask Holy Spirit, your Dear, Holy Friend for guidence and pray to God to help you recognize His voice. Pray that Holy Spirit will remind you of what Jesus says, what is written in the Bible.

~ Keep in mind that Holy Trinity is with you. If you struggle to remember that Holy Trinity always listens to your prayers and is with you, even in the moments in which God seems to be far from you. He promised you to never leave you: ”So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” (Isaiah 41:10). Try to imagine Jesus sitting beside you in the times of tempation. Trust me, He is always ready to help you. Just start talking to Him, turn to Him and ask for help. He will make it easier for you. You can also ask Him to speak to you and then open the Bible. It will keep your mind busy from the distracting earthly things.

Here are some Scriptures about idolatry and seeking earthly things:

“³ You shall have no other gods before me. ⁴ You shall not make for yourself an image in the form of anything in heaven above or on the earth beneath or in the waters below. ⁵ You shall not bow down to them or worship them; for I, the Lord your God, am a jealous God, punishing the children for the sin of the parents to the third and fourth generation of those who hate me, ⁶ but showing love to a thousand generations of those who love me and keep my commandments.” (Exodus 20:4-6)

”Therefore, my dear friends, flee from idolatry.” (1 Corinthians 10:14)

”Dear children, keep yourselves from idols." (1 John 5:21)

“Those who cling to worthless idols turn away from God’s love for them." (Jonah 2:8)

“Do not turn to idols or make metal gods for yourselves. I am the LORD your God.” (Leviticus 19:4)

”¹⁹ The acts of the flesh are obvious: sexual immorality, impurity and debauchery; ²⁰ idolatry and witchcraft; hatred, discord, jealousy, fits of rage, selfish ambition, dissensions, factions ²¹ and envy; drunkenness, orgies, and the like. I warn you, as I did before, that those who live like this will not inherit the kingdom of God." (Galatians 5:19-21)

”All who make idols are nothing, and the things they treasure are worthless. Those who would speak up for them are blind; they are ignorant, to their own shame.” (Isaiah 44:9)

”¹⁹ No one stops to think, no one has the knowledge or understanding to say, “Half of it I used for fuel; I even baked bread over its coals, I roasted meat and I ate. Shall I make a detestable thing from what is left? Shall I bow down to a block of wood?” ²⁰ Such a person feeds on ashes; a deluded heart misleads him; he cannot save himself, or say, “Is not this thing in my right hand a lie?” (Isaiah 44:19-20)

I recommend you to watch a video about this topic. It is a good animation that brings knowledge. Keep on spreading the Gospel and helping people to repent, let them be aware of the consequences of sin.

[superminisan]

Join all the glorious names  Of wisdom, love, and pow’r,  That mortals ever knew,  That angels ever bore; All are too mean to speak His worth, Too mean to set my Savior forth.

But O what gentle terms, What condescending ways, Doth our Redeemer use To teach his heav’nly grace! Mine eyes with joy and wonder see What forms of love He bears for me.

Arrayed in mortal flesh, He like an angel stands, And holds the promises And pardons in His hands; Commissioned from His Father’s throne To make His grace to mortals known.

Great prophet of my God, My tongue would bless Thy name, By Thee the joyful news Of our salvation came, The joyful news of sin forgiv’n Of hell subdued, and peace with Heav’n.

Be Thou my counselor, My pattern, and my guide, And through this desert land Still keep me near thy side: Nor let my feet e’er run astray Nor rove nor seek the crooked way.

I love my Shepherd’s voice, His watchful eyes shall keep My wand’ring soul among The thousands of His sheep: He feeds His flock, He calls their names, His bosom bears the tender lambs.

To this dear surety’s hand Will I commit my cause; He answers and fulfills His Father’s broken laws: Behold my soul at freedom set! My surety paid the dreadful debt.

Jesus, my great high priest, Offered His blood, and died; My guilty conscience seeks No sacrifice beside: His powerful blood did once atone, And now it pleads before the throne.

My advocate appears For my defense on high; The Father bows His ears, And lays His thunder by: Not all that hell or sin can say Shall turn His heart, His love away.

My dear almighty Lord, My conqueror and my King, Thy scepter and Thy sword, Thy reigning grace I sing: Thine is the power; behold I sit In willing bonds beneath Thy feet.

Now let my soul arise, And tread the tempter down; My captain leads me forth To conquest and a crown: A feeble saint shall win the day, Though death and hell obstruct the way.

Should all the hosts of death, And powers of hell unknown, Put their most dreadful forms Of rage and mischief on, I shall be safe, for Christ displays Superior power, and guardian grace.

- Isaac Watts, 1709

[dinaive]

Beowulf 

(translated by Francis B. Gummere)

Part 2

Then at the dawning, as day was breaking,

the might of Grendel to men was known;

then after wassail was wail uplifted,

loud moan in the morn. The mighty chief,

atheling excellent, unblithe sat,

labored in woe for the loss of his thanes,

when once had been traced the trail of the fiend,

spirit accurst: too cruel that sorrow,

too long, too loathsome. Not late the respite;

with night returning, anew began

ruthless murder; he recked no whit,

firm in his guilt, of the feud and crime.

They were easy to find who elsewhere sought

in room remote their rest at night,

bed in the bowers,   when that bale was shown,

was seen in sooth, with surest token, —

the hall-thane’s   hate. Such held themselves

far and fast who the fiend outran!

Thus ruled unrighteous and raged his fill

one against all; until empty stood

that lordly building, and long it bode so.

Twelve years’ tide the trouble he bore,

sovran of Scyldings, sorrows in plenty,

boundless cares. There came unhidden

tidings true to the tribes of men,

in sorrowful songs, how ceaselessly Grendel

harassed Hrothgar, what hate he bore him,

what murder and massacre, many a year,

feud unfading, — refused consent

to deal with any of Daneland’s earls,

make pact of peace, or compound for gold:

still less did the wise men ween to get

great fee for the feud from his fiendish hands.

But the evil one ambushed old and young

death-shadow dark, and dogged them still,

lured, or lurked in the livelong night

of misty moorlands: men may say not

where the haunts of these Hell-Runes   be.

Such heaping of horrors the hater of men,

lonely roamer, wrought unceasing,

harassings heavy. O’er Heorot he lorded,

gold-bright hall, in gloomy nights;

and ne’er could the prince   approach his throne,

— ‘twas judgment of God, — or have joy in his hall.

Sore was the sorrow to Scyldings’-friend,

heart-rending misery. Many nobles

sat assembled, and searched out counsel

how it were best for bold-hearted men

against harassing terror to try their hand.

Whiles they vowed in their heathen fanes

altar-offerings, asked with words   

that the slayer-of-souls would succor give them

for the pain of their people. Their practice this,

their heathen hope; ‘twas Hell they thought of

in mood of their mind. Almighty they knew not,

Doomsman of Deeds and dreadful Lord,

nor Heaven’s-Helmet heeded they ever,

Wielder-of-Wonder. — Woe for that man

who in harm and hatred hales his soul

to fiery embraces; — nor favor nor change

awaits he ever. But well for him

that after death-day may draw to his Lord,

and friendship find in the Father’s arms!

THUS seethed unceasing the son of Healfdene

with the woe of these days; not wisest men

assuaged his sorrow; too sore the anguish,

loathly and long, that lay on his folk,

most baneful of burdens and bales of the night.

This heard in his home Hygelac’s thane,

great among Geats, of Grendel’s doings.

He was the mightiest man of valor

in that same day of this our life,

stalwart and stately. A stout wave-walker

he bade make ready. Yon battle-king, said he,

far o’er the swan-road he fain would seek,

the noble monarch who needed men!

The prince’s journey by prudent folk

was little blamed, though they loved him dear;

they whetted the hero, and hailed good omens.

And now the bold one from bands of Geats

comrades chose, the keenest of warriors

e’er he could find; with fourteen men

the sea-wood   he sought, and, sailor proved,

led them on to the land’s confines.

Time had now flown;   afloat was the ship,

boat under bluff. On board they climbed,

warriors ready; waves were churning

sea with sand; the sailors bore

on the breast of the bark their bright array,

their mail and weapons: the men pushed off,

on its willing way, the well-braced craft.

Then moved o’er the waters by might of the wind

that bark like a bird with breast of foam,

till in season due, on the second day,

the curved prow such course had run

that sailors now could see the land,

sea-cliffs shining, steep high hills,

headlands broad. Their haven was found,

their journey ended. Up then quickly

the Weders’   clansmen climbed ashore,

anchored their sea-wood, with armor clashing

and gear of battle: God they thanked

for passing in peace o’er the paths of the sea.

Now saw from the cliff a Scylding clansman,

a warden that watched the water-side,

how they bore o’er the gangway glittering shields,

war-gear in readiness; wonder seized him

to know what manner of men they were.

Straight to the strand his steed he rode,

Hrothgar’s henchman; with hand of might

he shook his spear, and spake in parley.

“Who are ye, then, ye armed men,

mailed folk, that yon mighty vessel

have urged thus over the ocean ways,

here o’er the waters? A warden I,

sentinel set o’er the sea-march here,

lest any foe to the folk of Danes

with harrying fleet should harm the land.

No aliens ever at ease thus bore them,

linden-wielders:   yet word-of-leave

clearly ye lack from clansmen here,

my folk’s agreement. — A greater ne’er saw I

of warriors in world than is one of you, —   

yon hero in harness! No henchman he

worthied by weapons, if witness his features,

his peerless presence! I pray you, though, tell

your folk and home, lest hence ye fare

suspect to wander your way as spies

in Danish land. Now, dwellers afar,

ocean-travellers, take from me

simple advice: the sooner the better

I hear of the country whence ye came.”

To him the stateliest spake in answer;

the warriors’ leader his word-hoard unlocked:—

“We are by kin of the clan of Geats,

and Hygelac’s own hearth-fellows we.

To folk afar was my father known,

noble atheling, Ecgtheow named.

Full of winters, he fared away

aged from earth; he is honored still

through width of the world by wise men all.

To thy lord and liege in loyal mood

we hasten hither, to Healfdene’s son,

people-protector: be pleased to advise us!

To that mighty-one come we on mickle errand,

to the lord of the Danes; nor deem I right

that aught be hidden. We hear — thou knowest

if sooth it is — the saying of men,

that amid the Scyldings a scathing monster,

dark ill-doer, in dusky nights

shows terrific his rage unmatched,

hatred and murder.

[pooma-bible]

Today's devotional is on the topic Battle of Glory.

Scripture reading: Genesis 3:1–6; John 10:10; Romans 3:23; 2 Corinthians 10:5

God is more powerful than we could ever imagine. Bill Johnson says, ''God is better than you think. So let's change the way we think.'' We have an overwhelming victory in Christ Jesus! This week, we are going to look at Adam and Eve and how the enemy tricked them into sin. When we believe the enemy's lies, we lose the battle. But when we choose to believe God no matter what, we will always see an amazing victory!

EQUIP: There is an ongoing battle for glory raging on the Earth and in the spiritual world.

Teaching Point : The enemy has always desired the glory that belongs to God alone. The enemy seduced Adam and Eve into disobedience and caused them to turn away from God (Gen. 3:1–6).

God created us for glory. All of us uniquely display God's glory on Earth. To steward means to look after something or to manage something. How are you stewarding God's glory in your life?

The enemy would like nothing better than to get us to believe that following God is boring, too hard, or unrewarding. He wants us to focus on ourselves, not on God's glory.

The enemy used his powers of deception to lead Adam and Eve into disobedience. ''The serpent was more crafty than any of the other beasts of the field that the Lord God had made'' (GENESIS 3:1).

The enemy is not a true challenger to God's plan or power. He cannot be compared to God. ''The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness can never extinguish it'' (JOHN 1:5). The devil could never overcome God's power!

Jesus tells us that the enemy is a liar and the father of lies. ''He was a murderer from the beginning. He has always hated the truth, because there is no truth in him. When he lies, it is consistent with his character; for he is a liar and the father of lies'' (JOHN ...8:44)

Therefore, dear breathes of Christ Jesus, recall what our Lord said. He says, Jesus was addressing a group of religious leaders in Israel, who were accusing him of being from Satan.

He responded by telling them that they were liars, and that proved that they, not He, were of the Devil.

Jesus said: "When he (Satan) lies, he speaks out of his own character, for he is a liar and the father of lies" (John 8:44c).

He also told the group of accusers that they were the children of the Devil because they were spreading lies about Him and refusing to see the truth.

So, Satan is not only the father of lies, but of those who suppress the truth.

This is how Satan operates: he takes God's truth and twists or contradicts it so that people are led away from Him.

God is love (1 John 4:7–8). But Satan says "how can a loving God allow so much suffering?"

God says Jesus is the only way to heaven (John 14:6). Satan says "a good person of any belief system can get there."

Jesus spoke of everlasting torment for those who reject Him (Matthew 25:46). But Satan says "there's no hell." God claims to exist, and to be a personal Being that interacts with us (Hebrews 11:6). But Satan says "God is dead."

Unfortunately, since we are finite and fallen, we are susceptible to these lies. So, Satan continues to use them, and rehash even the original lie he told ("Did God really say…?") in order to get us off track. The Bible is attacked often and viciously by false religions and worldly men who want us to think that the Bible is not literal, is not authoritative, is not reliable.

Why do so many people put so much thought and effort into contradicting the Bible? Because Satan is working to convince us that God is the liar—and that is the ultimate lie.

Amen. May God bless us in the name of Jesus. Amen

Let's Pray: Almighty God, cover my mind with the helmet of Your salvation, reminding me constantly that I am Your child and the enemy can’t mess with me. Fix my thoughts, Lord Jesus, on what is true, honorable, right, pure, lovely, and admirable. Help me to think about things that are excellent and worthy of praise so Your peace will guard my mind (Philippians 4:8-9). Don’t let me copy the behavior and customs of this world, but transform me into a new person by changing the way I think. Then I will learn to recognize Your will for me which is good and pleasing and perfect (Romans 12:2, NLT). Saturate my mind with Your truth so I am convinced that the answers are found in Your Word, not out in the world.

Amen.

May peace be upon us all. Amen

[tatake-jeager]

INTENSE FIRST ORGASM ── RAN HAITANI

MINORS, DON'T INTERACC 18+

❐ Orgasm, Self pleasure, Cumming, Bathtub, Criminal

A/N: I noticed the notes left on my previous smut. You have no idea how happy I am that you're leaving those notes....and following too! Here's another smut for you based on the famous Haitani. This smut is a chapter on a new story I'm working on, so this is just a sneaky peak on what it'll be about. Enjoy! And Happy New Year 🍒

I rubbed my hand across my pussy and was surprised to find it unusually slick and slippery. My nose wrinkled as I wondered for a moment if it was because of that man. Ran Haitani. The man who always shows up at my house. It had been a long day when he sneaked in through my window to get away from the cops chasing him. The experience of him talking really dirty to me lingered on my mind all evening.

To clear my mind off the dirty thoughts and focus on my work. I decided to take a bath. I sank deeper into the water so my hair was submerged before leaning back to rest my head on the tub. When I closed my eyes, scenes of Ran running his hands through my curves while he talked dirty to me replayed over and over again. I relaxed as I explored my pussy with a finger.

I hate to admit it since Ran was a criminal, but it hadn't felt entirely bad when he gently squeeze my breasts. I've never touched myself before ever since my mother caught me moaning. She had expressively forbidden anything of that sort while I was growing up.

I let out a satisfied sigh at the softness of my folds, and how parting them revealed my inner flesh to the water. I found it strange that my pussy still remained slippery even though my hand and the water came in contact with it.

"Oh." I flinched and my breath quickened as my fingers found a spot that felt good. Another moan escaped from my parted lips as I gently drew circles around my clit. "Ran...that feels so....good."

My back arched and my nipples pebbled as my breasts emerged over the top of the water. It felt so fucking good. I wasn't so worried moaning out Ran's name. He was the cause of this. "Ran.....I want you. Yes....yes....god yes." I felt my tongue curled out of their own volition. "You make feel so fucking good. Ra-"

"This the most beautiful thing I've seen all day."

My eyes popped open. I sat up abruptly, sending water over the tub's edge. Ran's body was rested on the door that was right in front of me. How did he get in here?! Right. My window. "Ran!" I gasped in displeasure. My hands moved over my body in a desperately futile attempt to cover my body as he eyed me hungrily. "What the hell are you doing here in my bathroom? My house?!"

"My brother as well as my other friends are a chore right now. I came to see you." He smiled.

"Now you've seen me. Leave."

"I can't." He removed his cufflinks and folded his sleeve upwards. "Not with you moaning my name and wishing I was that finger you're using to touch yourself." Now he stood before me and I found myself staring right into his mocking eyes as he raised a brow.

I have never felt this thorough embarrassment at being caught staring and (dear lord almighty) touching myself. I swiftly dropped my gaze. Feeling indignant, I snapped. "Why didn't you knock? How long have you been standing there?"

"This is my hideout, why should I knock?" I watched as he knelt beside me. His deep chuckle made my insides twist. "Besides, I'm glad that I didn't knock. How would I have caught you being all naughty. Its hot."

"Being all naughty, oh lord." I shut my eyes tight, trying to protect the tiny piece of dignity I had left. I was never like this; not until those haitani brothers fearlessly got into my room like a creep!

"Come now," Ran touched my cheek and turned my face towards him. "There's nothing bad with acting naughty. Like I said, its hot with you doing it."

He reached a hand into the water, ignored all my protests and pushed my protective hands away so that my breasts were revealed in plain sight. I noticed a pink shade on his cheek before it quickly disappeared. I watched as his eyes darken as they took in the sight of my bare breasts; half of it submerged in the water. My breath was caught in my mouth as he reached out to cup one of them in his hand.

"You have beautiful breasts." His voice was lower than ever as he stroked my nipple with his thumb. I felt a jolt of pleasure as he teased them. I fought back a gasp of pleasure by biting my lips. Ran smiled when he noticed my struggles. His thumb circled around my areola teasingly before pinching it lightly.

Totally unable to help myself, I moaned softly before gnashing my teeth in frustration"Mhmm...they're so sensitive." He murmured. Bending over, he brought his face to my breasts and took one of my nipple into his mouth.

"Ran! P-please." I mumbled a half hearted protest as I tried to push him off me. As much as my brain protested this this assault, my body skyrocketed in the opposite direction. I wrapped my fingers around his forearm, although I wasn't so sure whether my plan was to push him away or to ensure that he didn't move away.

Removing my fingers from his forearm, he pinned me down against the tub with one hand as he suckled my breast, tongue licking and teasing my nipple. His other hand wandered down towards me as he sought his target. When his finger came in contact with my clit, I jumped violently, splashing water all over his long sleeve as well as his hair.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry." I was sincere.

"Naughty girl." He mumbled around my breast and sharply bit my nipple in retaliation. I squeaked and placed my wet palms against his shoulder, trying to shove him off.

"You have to learn how to control yourself." He skimmed the surface of my breast with his mouth, planting light kisses on my skin. His fingers worked my clit skillfully and I felt the pleasure and heat that gathered on that region as my heart raced. Touching myself earlier felt like smouldering coals, but Ran's finger felt like wildfire.

Much to my embarrassment, I opened my legs, awarding him better access as he quickened his pace. "Ran." I moaned and gasped, sinking my fingernails into his chest. The pleasure was threatening.

He hissed in pleasure. "That's it, good girl. Let it go. Let it wash over you."

Ran quickened the pace of rubbing my clit and when I cried out, he pinched down on my clit, sending me over the edge as I came violently against his fingers. "Oh god! Fuck! Fuck!"

I thrashed in the tub, sensing splashes of water against the floor. In all my life, I had never ever felt anything as intense as intense as the first orgasm that ever rippled through my body. Hell, I never thought my body was capable of such thing. My entire mind was blank and for those few seconds, all I could feel was the most primitive pleasure.

"Oh no." I panted as I came down from the high feeling. Embarrassed yet consumed with a deep, dark hunger for more. Ran sat back on his heels with a smirk on his face as I caught my breath.

After I gained control of myself, I felt a surge of anger at my traitorous body that had received so much pleasure at his ruthless hands. Taking him completely by surprise, I splashed water right at his face. I grinned as he spluttered. I rose out of the tub before he could stop me. I wrapped my body with a towel.

"Where are you going?" Ran coughed, as he half ran to me."

"I am going to get dressed," I announced. "and you will leave my room immediately before my mother notices anything!"

[kauboiki]

The betrayal of an Archon

Note: This is my first post, and probably the last one since I doubt I'll ever post here again, this was inspired from a tiktok edit I saw made from the 3.2 trailer!! Thanks to my friend who encouraged me to post this!

As I entered the main part of the town I saw the lesser lord Kusanali crying, as she had never cried before. As I was trying to concentrate on what was going on at that moment I saw the brave hero, the traveler jumping up high in the air, fighting with the creation of the Almighty Raiden Shogun, the Archon of Inazuma. He was just a puppet to her, all she ever wanted from him is his power, to have someone take care of the citizens.

He was abandoned by her and left to die. No one knew what happened to him after that. All I could see in his eyes is the need for power, the unfightable urge to be powerful, to control others. The traveler was trying his best to fight him, hopping high into the air, running up his fake body, made to kill and fight. He has always been seen as imperfect by others, but he tried to change it, by killing the Lesser Lord Kusanagi, the Archon of Sumeru.

As he expected, he had won the fight. He had succeeded in killing the Lesser Lord Nahida along with the traveler from another dimension. As their dead bodies were laying next to each other, he caught a glimpse of a blond-haired man, hiding just around the corner. As he was staring at him with pure irritation with tear-filled eyes, he gradually pulls out his blade and starts to slowly step towards him.

As he was looking around all he could see were dead bodies. Everything was covered in blood, the bodies of the soldiers, trying to fight back laying next to each other, the body of the God they cherished and believed in laying as if it were worth nothing. As he was right in front of the harbinger that caused all that chaos, seeing him grin after the unknown blond-haired man noticed the traveler's body not moving an inch made him feel pure anger. All he could think of is ways to kill him, to make him suffer the same way he made the hero suffer, the God of Wisdom, and all of the innocent lives that have been taken away from pure selfishness made him see red. He felt like there was some sort of evil power entering his body, the same way it felt when he was protecting the only land of humans, where Archons did not exist.

When he was thinking about the ways he could make the harbinger suffer, he felt a sharp pain in his chest. Scaramouche has pierced his heart with a blade, cutting it in half. Even it didn't hurt as much as seeing his only dear friend passing. Before falling onto his knees, bleeding out he saw the girl he had loved the most.

Lumine, standing right in front of him, smiling with her perfect, beautiful lips and a little blush on her soft cheeks. He would never forget her. Even in the afterworld. He knew he was dying. And he knew he will pay for all of his actions, if not in hell, then one day after he reunites with the girl, if he ever will.