#the church today

[mashmouths]

does anyone know how to stop the body from keeping score? i have shit to do

[abasilence-ministries]

The Book of Lamentations Unlocked(A Practical Application)

This is an unexpected study that Ive been sitting with all week. It is slowly being opened to me and what I am seeing pertains to today. I have to take this is small bitesized pieces as it is overwhelmingly eye opening. This is Lamentations 1:1 unlocked

[saoirseyun]

CW :: SMUT

fine, chuuya's obsessed to buy you new sorts of expensive brands of lipsticks, imports from other countries and made of the finest and only the best of the best in terms of quality no matter the huge chunks it leaves in his wallet when chuuya slumps his back—head thrown facing the ceiling and gruntled moans with a heavy rasp in his throat—hands tight gripped on the chair or whatever he was sitting on while you kissed his penis oblivious and litter such sloppy kisses on the veins, smothered lipstick burgundy—rosé—peach—or sunrise reds puckered kisses to his head and chuuya's going to faint. the more his eyes struggle to shot open at the sight of you going down on him tease, colouring his cock devilishly.

[halfbaked00q]

Im soooo weak to when Bond is like casually being used or exploited at his expense for some ostensible Greater Good except the situation doesn't HAVE to come to that, not really, and he's so inured and even numb to it that he barely pays it any mind; meanwhile, Q absolutely minds and is very indignant on his behalf and works overtime to like either try to avert or forestall the situation before it gets to the point where Bond has to dig his own claws into more of his soft underbelly to offer up on the sacrificial alter of politics of all tawdry things, or to manufacture a way in which he does the needless "needful" so as to spare Bond at least one unnecessary additional wound upon his psyche.

bonus if Bond finds out and maybe after being angry or indignant about it - I don't need you to do my job for me, Q, this is what I'm here to do - and either Q tells him/lets slip or he deduces that like, this isn't Q thinking he can't get the job done, this is Q finding him precious and worthy of protecting, and like. he's just very in awe of that and does in fact feel very safe and cherished within the cradle of his Quartermaster's regard

[tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang]

Merry Christmas to everyone who celebrates!!! (If not then have a great Wednesday ♡)

[s0fter-sin]

god the way ghost’s voice drops when he tells soap, “you’ll need to improvise to survive”

before that, everything he says is steady but when he acknowledges that soap’ll have to do something outside his skill set, something he intimately knows to be difficult, his voice wavers. he does the same when he says, “welcome to guerrilla warfare”; it’s sombre and serious in a way he doesn’t act for the rest of the mission. if you read into it enough, he almost sounds apologetic; like he knows exactly what soap’s about to go through and wishes he didn’t have to

he keeps soap going; poking at him and making jokes, giving him tips and asking about his progress. he never lets him stop and take a second to think bc he knows the moment he does is the moment it'll all hit him; the betrayal, the pain, the fear, the deaths, all of it will drown him and if that happens, soap won't make it

he needs him to be a soldier through and through and he knows this is one of the worst kinds of battlefields you could end up on

and the only times he slips is when he acknowledges that fact

it happens again when he says, "tryin' to get you here alive and in one piece". his jovial dark humour facade drops for just a moment when he has to face the potential reality of losing soap. then he tries to pick it back up again with, "one of us has to survive to tell the tale"; completely discounting himself as a survivor to try and rally soap and make him think it’s all down to him

and soap does the same thing

when he's calling out for ghost on the radio, he's tentative, testing the frequency, then when he doesn’t get a response, he grows desperate; "ghost, this is 7-1, do you copy?"

then when ghost answers, he smooths out his voice; he hides the pain, the fear, and no matter what response you give to ghost asking if he’s injured, soap brushes it off (“i’m good”, “what’s the difference?”, “i’m not a medic”). soap decides it’s in ghost’s best interest to hide the extent of his injuries

he doesn’t know where ghost is, if he’s secure, if he has any weapons; he doesn’t even know if he’s in las almas until he says, “there’s a church, i’m headed to it”. for all he knows, he could’ve run in the complete opposite direction. if ghost knows he’s hurt, then his attention would be split between his own survival and soap’s

and soap, who lets himself be poked and prodded towards the church, needs to hide his own doubts. maybe he needs ghost to believe he'll make it so he himself can believe it ("what are my odds?" "don't make me bet against you", "think i'll live that long?" "probably not")

he all but begs ghost to tell him he'll get through it and if he knows just how bad off he is, maybe he'll change his mind. maybe he'll think he won't make it to the church

maybe he'll leave him alone for good

"you injured?"

"i’m good"

"let's find out how good you are"

[purgatorialist]

[melit0n]

Yeah this broke me. Crying, sobbing, throwing up. Not making it through the night.

Credits: @/j.whi on tiktok

[fictionadventurer]

Slumber party question! What's your earliest memory of encountering beauty? The first thing you can recall where you looked at something and were struck by how beautiful it was?

[ibetittering]

We all know who wears the pants in the relationship

@katzenklavierr for the art 😋

[wykart]

the church on ruby road

[swaglet]

this looks semi-formal enough for a choir performance right ladies

[canisalbus]

I made Machete and Vasco kiss in Sims Medieval (they're in the church, right in front of everyone, so this is definitely Not Canon but still fun) (also I hope this is ok! I know you like fanart, this is. uh. almost fanart?)

.

[pinkblanc]

Abandoned church, Richmond, Texas, 2019

[cinamun]

S.A.L | Next

[skyward-floored]

Whumptober day 12 "Just a little more" (starvation)

Continuation to day 8! We find out what happens to Sky and Warriors. The starvation prompt only sort of fits but it does a bit so it counts ok

Warnings: same as day 8 but a bit less intense

Ao3 link

Day 8

————————————————————

Warriors led Sky as quickly as he could down the hallway, peeking his head into every door they passed. He hadn’t seen a soul in here so far except for Sky, and it was making him anxious.

They needed to find someone who knew how to free Sky from the mask, but if there was nobody around... how was Warriors supposed to get it off?

Sky stumbled against him, nearly falling over, and Warriors straightened him with a tense sigh. Sky could barely walk even with Warriors helping him down the hallway, his steps swaying and unsteady. He lurched around like he was on a ship and hadn’t gotten his sea legs yet, and Warriors had to constantly stop him from falling over.

He still wasn’t sure exactly what was wrong with Sky— the mask was obviously hurting him, but was it doing anything else? Was it purely physical, or mental? Both?

Was it killing him?

Sky stumbled again, leaning against the wall, and Warriors looked at his face streaked equally with half-dried blood and tear tracks.

“Can you keep going for me Sky? We’ve got to be close,” Warriors asked, and Sky whimpered, leaning harder against the wall.

“Wwant, it off... jus’... off,” he whispered, lip trembling. “Wars...”

“I know bud,” Warriors said quietly, running his hand along his shoulder.

Sky whimpered again. “S-sleep...”

He pressed his head against Warriors’ shoulder with a shudder, and Warriors slid them both down to the ground, letting him rest for a minute.

“Rest for a bit, it’s okay,” Warriors murmured, running a hand through his hair. “Just a little more Sky, not much longer. Then it’ll be off.”

Sky sniffled, a reddish tear dripping down his cheek, and didn’t say anything further.

Warriors let him rest as long as he felt was safe—which he knew really wasn’t long enough for poor Sky—then gently prodded him to his feet. They resumed their lurching walk down the hallways, all lit with the same unnatural lighting that made Warriors’ skin crawl.

This whole place made him uneasy, deeper so then just because he and Sky were escaping. There was just a feeling of wrong in the air, that terrible things were going on, something that made Warriors want to curl up in a ball and hide.

He wasn’t a fan.

Warriors and Sky turned onto a different hallway, one more open with rooms off to the side. These didn’t have doors, and Warriors led Sky slowly past them, peeking in and checking for any people. They were largely empty, though Warriors saw signs that the rooms had been occupied recently, chairs askew, papers spread out on desks. Nothing useful.

They were more than halfway down the hall when Warriors glanced around a corner and found a white-haired man sitting at a desk, muttering to himself as he skimmed a thick book. He happened to look up right as Warriors saw him, and his red eyes went wide.

Warriors didn’t hesitate, leaning Sky against the wall and attacking in the same movement. The man yelped and pulled out a dagger, but Warriors had the element of surprise on his side.

This man obviously wasn’t much of a fighter, which Warriors was relieved at. He managed to wrestle the dagger from the man’s grip without serious injury, and the man only landed a single punch on Warriors’ face before Warriors pinned him, holding the dagger at his neck.

“All right all right no need for that! I surrender,” the man huffed, his glasses knocked askew. “Hm. Obviously we should have started our tests on you sooner.”

“Shut up,” Warriors said in a sharp voice. “I have something you need to do for me."

The Sheikah raised an eyebrow, and Warriors gestured to Sky, slumped against the wall and mumbling to himself again.

“Take it off of him,” Warriors demanded, holding the dagger tightly. The Sheikah didn’t move or reply, and Warriors pressed the weapon tightly against his throat. “Did you hear me? Take it off.”

“I can’t,” the man said shortly, fingers twitching like he wanted to adjust his glasses. He gave Warriors an annoyed look. “Only the one who puts the mask on can take it off.”

Warriors’ heart sank. “Who put it on?”

The man pursed his lips, but when Warriors pressed the weapon even tighter against him, his resolve faltered.

“...The director placed it,” he muttered. “He said your friend was the perfect candidate for our tests.”

Rage swept through Warriors. “Tests? You’re torturing him, can’t you see he’s in pain? What is the mask doing?” he demanded, and the Sheikah shrugged.

“Simply making it so he can’t sleep. He’s well past the point where our other subjects have died, it’s fascinating that he’s still managing to function at any cognitive—”

“Where’s your director?” Warriors growled, and the scientist smirked.

“I have no idea. He comes and goes, and all his visits are unscheduled.”

Then he snapped his fingers, and disappeared into smoke.

Warriors swore and got to his feet, quickly scanning the room for anything useful, but there wasn’t much except books and paper. He had a weapon now at least, even if the man was likely setting off the alarm that they’d escaped.

Sky was tilting dangerously to the side when Warriors turned back to him, and he quickly stopped him from collapsing. Sky sank into his grip, and Warriors briefly studied his face again, taking in the bruises under his eyes and blood on his face, remembering what the Sheikah had said with a sharp sense of dread. Sky certainly looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

I didn’t even know it was possible to stay awake that long.

Warriors closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them. “Come on Sky, we’re getting this off,” he said, clasping his hand as he held him up. “Just hold on for me.”

Sky gave him a jerky nod, and they kept going.

The lonely hallways wound around the building, Warriors hurrying Sky along as fast as he dared. He had to pull them into corners to hide more than once, various Sheikah hurrying past them. They were nearly spotted multiple times, and Warriors grew more and more tense.

He didn’t know where the exit was, and didn’t have any clue where to find this ‘director’. He had almost zero information on their enemy, and Sky was growing worse by the minute, mumbling rapidly to himself and bursting into tears at random. He nearly exposed them once, Warriors having to press Sky's face against his sleeve to muffle a wail as a group of Sheikah rushed by. Sky nearly collapsed afterwards, and Warriors paused against a wall, taking a deep breath as he gently ran his hand over Sky's head.

Okay. Okay. You’ve been through worse. Think. If the director was so interested in Sky, he’s probably still here somewhere. We don't know where, so the best way to find him would probably be...

Warriors grimaced. Hopefully this would work.

He stayed where he was for a moment, still running his hand through Sky's hair as he thought through his next steps. Sky was staying quiet for the time being, though his body was occasionally wracked with a deep shudder.

Warriors breathed out. "Okay. Hold on, buddy."

He pulled Sky up again, and stepped out into the hallway, resuming their trip through the building. This time though, he moved much less quietly, and left obvious signs of his and Sky's presence. He was taking a huge risk, but he was out of ideas otherwise.

And Sky was running out of time.

Warriors heard a crackling sound, and snapped his head up, grabbing Sky and pulling him away from the semicircle of Sheikah that abruptly appeared around them.

For a moment Warriors' heart sank as he looked around at them all, beginning to curse himself for his foolishness, but then a tall man with a streak of red in his hair stepped forward, hands behind his back.

Sky softly crooned a wavering version of a song Warriors had heard him play on his harp before.

“Hm, he’s even more of a mess then last I saw him,” the man said thoughtfully, stroking his short beard as he watched Sky. “Though I imagine dragging him around half our facility didn’t do him any favors.”

“Are you the director?” Warriors asked in a low voice, and the man nodded, making Warriors' heart speed. Perfect.

“Indeed," he said, still watching Sky. "And I’d appreciate it if you brought my project back to his cell.”

“Project?” Warriors hissed, rage rushing through him.

“Yes, project. Do I have to spell it out for you?” the man asked with a raised eyebrow. “I assumed it was obvious. We’re testing torture methods and equipment, their effectiveness, durability, limits... your friend is rather hardy, he’s lasted longer than anyone else.”

Warriors physically recoiled. “You’re a monster.”

“Am I? I’m merely doing my sworn duty,” he shrugged, and his red eyes met Warriors’ blue. “It is my job to serve and protect the royal family. I’m only finding better and more inventive methods of doing so.”

“Not like this,” Warriors said coldly, holding Sky tighter. Sky whimpered. “I understand needing to protect the royal family, but this is an innocent man you’re torturing. He’s a knight. Does the crown even know what you’re doing here?”

“We have to test effectiveness on various subjects in order to produce the best results,” the man said coolly, not answering his question “And you are getting in the way of that.”

The soldiers inched closer, and Warriors drew back, Sky staring listlessly at the wall.

“You aren’t scheduled to start tests for another week, and if you come back quietly, I will keep to that original timeline,” the director said quietly. “If you do not...”

“Never,” Warriors said firmly, brandishing his dagger.

He’d fight as hard as he could for Sky.

He only needed a few seconds, just a brief distraction, something to take the focus off of himself—

Something crackled loudly, and a soldier yelled as there was a bright flash of light, momentarily blinding everyone.

"Go go go!"

Footsteps clattered, and someone touched Warriors' shoulder. He swung blindly with the dagger, his vision wavering from the flash of light, and a yelp rang out. Another hand grabbed his arm and shook him in a familiar way.

"Captain it's me, stoppit!"

"Legend?!" Warriors gaped as his vision finally cleared, and the veteran gave him a tense smile.

"Long time no see. Sorry it took so long, we had to track you down. You two okay?"

Sky buried his head into Warriors' neck, and Warriors swallowed. "Sky's off pretty bad, I'm alright. Make sure the man with the red stripe doesn't get away," he reported quickly, and Legend nodded, giving Sky a horrified look before jumping back into the fray.

The familiar sounds of a battle rang out in the hallway, swords clashing and people yelling. Four and Time were the only heroes besides Legend that Warriors could see, but he wouldn't be surprised if they'd split up.

Warriors stayed close beside Sky as the fight went on, Sheikah retreating and scrambling to counter three furious heroes. These Sheikah seemed not to be the best trained, not compared to any Warriors had met at least, and it wasn't long before the heroes had restrained the several that hadn't escaped, their faces enraged.

Warriors was relieved to see the director was being held tightly by Legend, and he sighed, a bit amazed his thrown-together plan had worked so well. Thank the goddesses for the others. He lowered Sky down to the floor, Sky leaning heavily against him, and faintly smiled.

Time joined his side a few moments later, kneeling beside him and Sky, but before he could say anything he blanched, staring at Sky with both of his eyes gone wide.

“Captain... that mask,” Time said, face white. “How long...”

“As long as we’ve been missing,” Warriors said tightly, and Time looked horrified. “The man with the red streak in his hair, he put it on, we need him to—”

“Got it,” Time said shortly, and stood up, marching over to the director.

He brushed past Legend and snatched the director up by the collar and held him up, both eyes open and flashing with rage.

“Take it off of him, now,” he growled, and the man glared.

"My results will be skewed, I won't—”

Time dragged him over to where Sky was sniffling quietly against Warriors' shoulder again, and held his sword to his neck.

"If you value your life at all, then you will free him right now," he said in a low, dangerous voice, and the director held off for an impressive ten seconds before giving in with an angry huff.

"Fine," he growled, and Time shoved him to his knees beside Sky. "But you will pay for this."

"Did you hear that Sky? You're getting it off," Warriors said gently, and Sky weakly stirred, his expression lighting up just a bit.

"...O-off?" he rasped, and Warriors nodded.

"Off. And never on again."

Sky stared, his lip trembling, and then he clutched at Warriors' arm, a hysterical, laughing sob escaping him. Then he froze, and looked up at Warriors, his expression scared.

“W-will it... Wwars...” Sky said blearily, and Warriors gave him a confident smile.

“It'll be fine, I’ll be right here,” Warriors promised, holding tight to his hand. "I won't leave you."

"We need to get going, if you're going to do it, you need to do it now," Legend called urgently, his face worried and tense. Time pushed the director forward, and the man reluctantly put a hand on the mask on Sky's face.

Warriors gripped Sky's hand, Sky gripping back as he shook with exhaustion, and with a faint spark of magic and a peeling sound of dried blood...

The mask was finally pulled off.

Pure relief swept across Sky’s face, his eyes welling with tears, and Warriors caught him as his body went completely limp, holding his exhausted brother tight.

Sky was free.