#the gospels of the devil

[reno-matagot]

French Folklore of the Devil

Where do we find Him?

CLVII • THE INCANTATION OF THE FROG

''According to a belief in Lower Brittany, to get in touch with the Devil, you must take a green frog on the day of the full moon and place it on an anthill while saying:

''Without fear or dread

Green frog continue on your way

Meet the Devil

So that he brings me a little gold

And that I have the means

To stay forever without working.''

Claude Seignolle • The gospels of the Devil

[skelegold]

Wily Gang!

All-Star Megaman is coming soon

[turbomnstr]

[artandthebible]

The Temptation of Christ

Artist: Ludwig Ferdinand Schnorr von Carolsfeld (German, 1788 -1853)

Genre: Religious Art

Date: 1847

The Temptation of Christ

The temptation of Christ is referenced in the Bible in the following verses: Matthew 4:1-11 Mark 1:12-13 Luke 4:1-13 In these verses, Satan tempts Jesus to turn stones into bread, to jump from a pinnacle and be saved by angels, and to bow down and worship him.

Again, the devil took Him along to a very high mountain and *showed Him all the kingdoms of the world and their glory; and he said to Him, “All these things I will give You, if You fall down and worship me.” Then Jesus *said to him, “Go away, Satan! For it is written: ‘You shall worship the Lord your God, and serve Him only.’” Then the devil *left Him; and behold, angels came and began to serve Him. ~ Matthew 4:8-11

[breezeinmonochromenight]

My apologies if these have been asked before. Can Dante and Vergil regrow body parts like Nero can? I’m assuming the brothers can regrow organs because of being impaled so many times; but I’m curious if actual whole appendages like arms or even legs or a head is possible? Do you think Nero has a superior form of healing ability? Thank you kindly.

Given how Dante tends to (literally) walk off impalements/has taken a bullet to the skull at point blank range with little more than a momentary stun, and how Vergil realistically should have been sliced in half after that horizontal swing at the end of DMC3, I’m almost inclined to believe they heal too fast to actually lose limbs tbh.

[raidouversusthesoullessarmy]

Teaching my sister how to emulate so she can play Raidou 🫡🫡

[ausetkmt]

Danger, Do NOT Tithe- Is it Wrong to Tithe?

Just give him a moment and understand that HE IS SPEAKING TRUTH, to Devils, who collect their shekels in the name of their false prophets. Stop paying for rolls royces if you are riging in a honda.

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

The Temptation of Jesus

Then Jesus was led by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil. After fasting forty days and forty nights, He was hungry.

The tempter came to Him and said, “If You are the Son of God, tell these stones to become bread.”

But Jesus answered, “It is written:

‘Man shall not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.’”

Then the devil took Him to the holy city and set Him on the pinnacle of the temple. “If You are the Son of God,” he said, “throw Yourself down. For it is written:

‘He will command His angels concerning You, and they will lift You up in their hands, so that You will not strike Your foot against a stone.’”

Jesus replied, “It is also written: ‘Do not put the Lord your God to the test.’”

Again, the devil took Him to a very high mountain and showed Him all the kingdoms of the world and their glory. “All this I will give You,” he said, “if You will fall down and worship me.”

“Away from Me, Satan!” Jesus declared. “For it is written: ‘Worship the Lord your God and serve Him only.’”

Then the devil left Him, and angels came and ministered to Him.

When Jesus heard that John had been imprisoned, He withdrew to Galilee. Leaving Nazareth, He went and lived in Capernaum, which is by the sea in the region of Zebulun and Naphtali, to fulfill what was spoken through the prophet Isaiah:

“Land of Zebulun and land of Naphtali, the Way of the Sea, beyond the Jordan, Galilee of the Gentiles— the people living in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of the shadow of death, a light has dawned.”

From that time on Jesus began to preach, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is near.”

As Jesus was walking beside the Sea of Galilee, He saw two brothers, Simon called Peter and his brother Andrew. They were casting a net into the sea, for they were fishermen. “Come, follow Me,” Jesus said, “and I will make you fishers of men.” And at once they left their nets and followed Him.

Going on from there, He saw two other brothers, James son of Zebedee and his brother John. They were in a boat with their father Zebedee, mending their nets. Jesus called them, and immediately they left the boat and their father and followed Him.

Jesus went throughout Galilee, teaching in their synagogues, preaching the gospel of the kingdom, and healing every disease and sickness among the people. News about Him spread all over Syria, and people brought to Him all who were ill with various diseases, those suffering acute pain, the demon-possessed, those having seizures, and the paralyzed—and He healed them.

The large crowds that followed Him came from Galilee, the Decapolis, Jerusalem, Judea, and beyond the Jordan. — Matthew 4 | The Reader’s Bible (BRB) The Reader’s Bible © 2020 by Bible Hub and Berean.Bible. All rights Reserved. Cross References: Exodus 17:2; Exodus 23:25; Exodus 34:28; Numbers 23:3; Deuteronomy 8:3; 1 Chronicles 29:2; Nehemiah 11:1; Psalm 91:11-12; Isaiah 9:1-2; Ezekiel 47:10; Matthew 3:2; Matthew 9:1; Matthew 9:35; Matthew 10:2; Matthew 11:2; Matthew 14:33; Matthew 26:53; Mark 1:12-13; Mark 3:7-8; Mark 10:28; Luke 5:11; 1 Corinthians 10:20

[shadows-of-almsivi]

Salvation From the Dawn (from the Netflix Series "Devil In Ohio")

[soulmusicsongs]

Don't Let The Devil Get You Down - The Clark Sister (Jesus Has A Lot To Give, 1973)

[craigtowens]

Getting Uncomfortable With Staying Comfortable

God has gifted us to soar, but we have mostly limited ourselves to our comfort zone. God is calling us to get uncomfortable with staying comfortable by confronting the lies that have kept us trapped.

Listen to the podcast of this post by clicking on the player below, and you can also subscribe on Apple, Spotify, or Audible.  https://craigtowens.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/09/getting-uncomfortable-with-staying-comfortable.mp3 We as a Church are underperforming. How do I know this? Look at the way the world treats Christians; specifically, look at what’s NOT happening.  “By this all will know…

[reno-matagot]

𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐇 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐊𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐄

THE SABBATS

CCCLXXXIV ~ BARREN FIELDS

''In Allier, the fields over which sorcerers crossed the air on their way to the Sabbath became completely barren.''

CCCLXXXIV - THE “DEVIL’S TURNING PATH”

''Near Toul, grass no longer grows on the path that Saint Michael took when he was pursued by the Devil.''

CCCLXXXVI ~ THE SPINNER WITCHES

''In Gérardmer, it was said that the witches went to the Beheuille mountain on Friday evenings to spin the hemp intended for the rope which was to take them.''

CCCLXXXVI ~ THE DEVIL'S CIRCLE

''The Morvan sabbats took place on the mountain, in a deserted valley on the Peu side. This is where the Devil's circle is, where the grass is always withered, because it is trodden by the feet of demons and witches who dance their rounds there at midnight on the first Friday of the moon.

A poor man went there and never returned; another, having gone there astride a broomstick after having rubbed his body with a particular grease, returned one-eyed and mute. The Devil's Circle still exists, but the demons only return there twice a century, since a refractory priest established his retreat, during the Revolution, not far from this cursed place.''

Claude Seignolle, The Gospels of the Devil

[next-pres]

https://rumble.com/v56zr4t-clack-mountain-music.html

[sophluorescentmusing]

DOG GOSPEL; OG PREMISE

Any meeting that takes place offshore, on the dock of some rich motherfucker’s yacht is a problem. Zhang Yixing isn’t in the habit of entertaining such meetings, normally he would send an underling or pass on the invitation to his father to be dealt with, but this particular invitation had come not from some sleazy middle-man’s tipoff. 

It’d come from his mother: “Nagasaki Port. They’ll expect you on the docks for eleven. The boat is named the Sobyulwang Cheat.” She’d recommended he bring a trusted guard with him, but Yixing does not trust any of his men stationed in Nagasaki, and so he has gone alone.

He’s worn dress-shoes, though he laments the choice as he steps through oil-ridden puddle after oil-ridden puddle. He’ll have to throw the shoes out by the end of the night—the oil will eat up the expensive soles and the shoes will be worthless before long. The rest of his outfit does not fare much better. His shirt sticks to his chest from the after-storm humidity. His pants pull uncomfortably around his thighs.

Tonight does not scream fortune to him. 

The port is always in motion, and yet, the directions he’s been given send him to the quieter side of the business docks. He does not run into anyone as he nears the waters, as he nears the private docks. Not until he’s close enough that the very people who have invited him can pick him out. 

Two men with shoulders as broad as mountains, jaws square and boorish, and eyes like half-moons appear from the shadows of a shipping container. “You’re the representative for the Central River Company?” One of them asks. He speaks brusquely, business-like. He is poorly pronounced in Yixing's native language.

Yixing offers nothing more than a curt: “Yes.” 

The weight of his gun sits comfortably in its holster. His heart beats against it. His body keeps it warm. 

The two guards fall into step alongside him. Neither makes a move to pat him down. If this is because they’re stupid, or because they acknowledge there’s no chance in hell Yixing isn’t armed, he’s unsure. He wants to bristle, but he does not. He merely follows were they lead. 

It doesn’t take long to reach their destination. The Sobyulwang Cheat is a medium-sized yacht—not so large as to grab undue attention, but certainly rich enough to spell out the success of its owners. She’s lit up modestly, just the interior salon and the barest corners of the deck, and floats silently in the night-black water of the Nagasaki Bay. He can see the shadow of movement through the cabin windows, but curtains block out any further information.

He’s brought aboard the ship with little preamble. Still, his person is not searched.

The guards lead him to the salon door, and then, they stop. The message is clear: proceed alone. 

Yixing rolls the tension out of his shoulders, perhaps the only sign that he had been tense, and then presses the pneumatic button to activate the salon cabin’s doors. They slide open silently, and unleash the gentle music of the interior, the soft din of conversation, and the scent of food, drinks, and smoke—some of it acrid but natural, like tobacco, other more chemical and searing, like that of cocaine. If he’d had doubts about the scene he was walking into—he hadn’t—they would have been alleviated just by this. 

He steps inside, but is not welcomed. Few people turn to look his way, and those that do judge him and move on within the blink of an eye. All except for one. Yixing is accustomed to picking out the wolf among the sheep. He’s observant, keen—normally knows when someone’s gaze lingers on him a beat too long. 

The feeling right now is intense. 

Though, as Yixing’s eyes rove across the room, he can’t quite nail down the source.

He moves it to the back of his mind, compartmentalizing it among every other observation he has made, and moves towards the bar. The woman working it is dressed cleanly, pristine—her hair pulled back into a slick bun. Her shirt is buttoned up to the collar and her apron is ironed flat. Yixing’s used to sleazy looking bartenders—the sort that have been drinking and flirting all night. She is most certainly not that. 

Nor does she take his order. 

She pours something preselected—what looks like baijiu. 

Yixing doesn’t drink. Not excessively. Cocaine is more his vice.

He accepts the drink nonetheless. 

When he turns away from the bar… that’s when he spots the gaze that’s been on his back. Normally, when caught, the looker would look away. This man does not. And since he has been unabashedly staring—continues to unabashedly stare—Yixing allows himself the chance to do the same.

This man has eaten arrogance like one would a delicacy. He has digested it. He has metabolized it into the very core of his body’s mechanisms. His limbs are stretched out languidly across the salon couch, taking up far more space than he needs to, and yet this is most obviously a calculated decision. Something to put the others on edge, to force them into their smaller spaces.

His hair is tussled, like he’s had a quick fuck before he strolled in here—and strolled is the word, not an ounce of this man’s countenance suggests he accounts for others in any meaningful, chivalrous way. He is all depravity. 

Under Yixing’s watchful eye, he leans his head back and exposes the long, lithe line of his throat. There’s a gold necklace there bearing a crucifix (not a cross, he must enjoy the brutality of wearing an execution like a noose), as well as a necklace of white, polished pearls. He flirts with the idea of feminity, of safety—and yet crushes it in the same breath.

Yixing’s fascinated. Still, all he does is tip his glass, take a sip, and ready himself to move on—to give the rest of the room some of his attention—when the stranger brings some of his limbs inwards, clears a spot for him on the couch. Yixing would be a fool to ignore the invitation, especially considering what kind of gathering this is. 

He strides forward. If this man exudes arrogance, then Yixing exudes confidence. 

He takes a seat—the cushions are plush, warm from the proximity to the man—and then he leans inward. In Japanese: “You own the boat?” He’s not sure when he settled on this observation, but once it’s out, he agrees wholeheartedly with his gut.

“You like her?” The stranger’s laugh is like liquor… molasses to be specific—slow, moody. “I use her to flirt.” 

“Do you now?”

“Certainly.” There is a brief lull, both of their gazes roving over the room. Now that Yixing has taken his seat, he has drawn attention. Some of it is unwelcome (he can read plotting in some of the looks), some of it is curious (veiled interest, some jealousy here and there). 

The language changes, now to Mandarin: “You are Zhang Yixing, are you not?” 

“Who’s asking?”

“Bian Boxian. I own the White Tiger Club in Seoul.”

Yixing’s never heard of the club. He has however heard of Se Horangi-pa. One of Korea’s only four, organized syndicates—it would have been impossible for Yixing not to pay attention to the name. It’s the first he’s ever dealt with them in person, though. Assuming this Bian Boxian is one of theirs.

Boxian continues: “Everyone is here for me, gege. But I’m here for you. Come upstairs?”

“How’d you get a message to my mother?” Yixing asks instead. “She does not travel.” She is one of those women who has remained in her homeland her entire life—she has traditionalist thoughts and values (at least, as much as she can when she married into crime). She’s not the sort of person Yixing would imagine fraternizing with the Korean mob. Not by choice.

“She took tea with a friend of mine, once. They kept in touch.” Nothing more, nothing less. Boxian’s grin is shark-like, and yet, Yixing does not feel threatened. He feels like he stands on the cusp of some precipice, and yet, there is gold, wealth, fortune at the bottom. “Come along, gege.”

[romiantic]

as a christian saying this, nobody is more of a bigot than Christians and then wanna cry wolf when they’re attacked