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darklordofthesimp · 1 year

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Anything (König x Reader)

The 1st instalment in the Anything-Verse

Main Masterlist

Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6

Like the characters? Read their fics below!

Sunshine Masterlist || Saint Masterlist

Series Summary: A lack of information from the chain of command results in König mistaking you for an enemy sniper.

A/N: I have no idea how we got here

Category: Angst || Hurt/Comfort || Forced Proximity || Enemies to ?

Warnings: Graphic description of violence || Graphic description of injury || Graphic language

“You’re a liability.”

The words rang like a church bell. You were never one for petty violence but in that moment, after he’d so calmly said the words, you thought that you just might kill him.

“A liability?” You hissed, glaring at your superior like he’d grown two heads. “I’m a sniper, Sir, not a fucking ninja.”

The captain simply shifted his weight lazily, unfazed by your temper. He’d dealt with it many times throughout the years but it hadn’t bothered him because you weren’t inherently his. You were somebody else’s spitfire, under another unit’s command; but now you were part of the 141 and you needed to learn.

“Come on, Birdy. You know I’m right.”

Birdy.

You had Soap to thank for the name. ‘Snipers and birds both shit on people from above’. It wasn’t creative and honestly you could have thought of one hundred better names to offer, but once Ghost started addressing you by Birdy, it was set in stone.

When you said nothing, he continued.

“You can’t fight your way out of a wet paper bag,” he scoffed, swallowing a snort when your eyes widened. “Sniper’s need to defend themselves too, Birdy. You learnt that the hard way, remember?”

How could you not?

The knife wound had healed but the memory of it had not. Images of the hooded man wedging a blade into your shoulder flickered across your vision. Fists bearing down onto your jaw. Fingers wrapped around your throat.

A chill skittered across your skin.

“So, what’s your suggestion?” You crossed your arms over your chest.

When the corner of Price’s mouth quirked upward, you’d already begun to regret asking.

“Simple, really.” He shrugged, “someone’s gonna train ya.”

Your stomach dropped and a cold shiver traced the length of your spine.

“Who, Sir?” Your voice was barely a whisper. “Ghost’s not here. Everyone’s on leave.”

Price smirked.

“Not everyone.”

___

You felt nauseas.

Anxiety had your stomach in a death grip, and it was all you could do to not throw up. Pacing up and down the gym mats, you tried to cool your nerves.

There was only one person that had remained a complete anomaly to you and now he’d been given literal permission to beat the shit out of you.

Training.

You remembered what they loved to call ‘training’ at your old unit. You’d never been the fastest or the strongest, that was not your job. You were the one who could take make an impossible shot a kilometre away, but that’s not what ‘training’ entailed.

Your body ached at the memory.

There was a small noise by the doorway and your body stiffened. He was letting you know that he was there, his equivalent of a knock.

You both knew that he could have had you on your back whenever he pleased.

“König.” You acknowledged him as confidently as you could, turning to face the beast head on.

The giant stood in the doorway looking like the fucking bogey man himself.

“Birdy,” König inclined his head. Those dark, watchful eyes observed you from beneath his hood, taking in your visage. Heat licked the back of your neck and you began to sweat under his gaze.

He was clad in his usual getup from the waist down, the tactical cargo pants and the hefty boots being his barracks favourite. It was the hoodie that had caught you by surprise, you’d seen it a few times in passing, but up close it rendered you breathless.

“I didn’t realize you were staying with the 141,” you said, swallowing nervously as he stepped into the room, ducking his head to avoid hitting the frame above.

This was a sick, sick joke.

“My transfer was approved,” was the only explanation that he offered you.

You knew, logically, that what had happened between the both of you had been a misunderstanding. It was a communication failure on behalf of the brass that had almost gotten you killed but the idea of working with him, training with him, made your stomach drop.

König’s hands got to work removing his gloves and the memory of those fingers wrapped around your throat made you flinch.

You’d set up a sniper’s nest atop the rooftop, watching the entrance of the building the 141 was infiltrating. They were going to flush out the target and send him running right into your line of fire.

No-one had been informed of KorTac’s involvement.

You’d heard König before you’d seen him, the dismantling of your trip mine giving you enough indication to roll onto your back to investigate. By then, he was already upon you.

You’d kicked the rifle from his hands but that was where your advantage finished. He’d dragged you by your ankles from your weapon, straddling your flailing body as he got to work. The knife he’d brandished stabbed into your flesh violently, and at first, you’d thought he only punched you.

Until the searing hot pain bloomed across your body and blood sprayed across his hood.

Those emerald eyes were wild and hard as he gripped your face over your balaclava. You couldn’t think to react, dizzied by the agony of knife he twisted into your skin. His palm covered the entirety of your features, fingers tight against your temples as he pulled your head forward then smashed it back into the concrete.

You thought your skull had exploded.

Fists ploughed into your jaw but it was as though you were numb now. Finally, his fingers were drawn to your throat, squeezing tightly as he leaned in. The cloth of his hood brushed against your battered body, filling the space between you as his lips pressed against your ear.

“Your fight is finished,” he hissed heatedly. Then König pressed down into your skin.

You don’t remember what happened afterward. You knew that he’d been called off by his chain-of-command just in time to stop himself from ending your life, but that was according to Soap.

You were in a coma for two weeks.

It took you months to recover.

And only once you came back to work, fit to fight and ready to go, had you discovered that König had applied to transfer into the 141 shortly after the incident. KorTac had offered him up to fill in your position while you recovered.

Not only had the bastard nearly killed you but he’d taken your place.

Now that you were back, he would lose his place as a sniper and be back to running with the team on the ground.

König watched you carefully from where he stood.

“You’re my instructor,” you said plainly, stating the obvious. “Price made you my hand-to-hand combat trainer.

“Ironic, isn’t it,” his voice came quietly from beneath the hood, a small snort following in suit.

You would have laughed had you not been so fucking terrified. You were about to take your place back on the team, a position this giant clearly wanted and now he was given the chance to put you back into the hospital with no questions asked.

You wouldn’t be able to do anything against him. König was a mountain of a man, a force to be reckoned with, and while he tried to make himself as disarming as possible it was implausible to hide that frame.

“Did you want to get started?” König asked, leaning his hip against the table beside him. He was so casual for someone who had nearly killed you.

“No,” you said simply.

“Are you not up for this?” König ventured carefully, pushing off the bench and taking a slow step towards you. Your heart thrashed against your ribs at his approaching figure and you forced yourself to stay still. “You still have bruising-“

“That’s what happens when someone shatters your fucking face, cunt,” you snapped, casting your gaze from his. You were hoping that he wouldn’t bring it up, everyone had danced around your condition for so long. No one spoke about how fucking ugly you looked as you tried to recover.

“It was an accident,” his voice was hard, almost bewildered at your sudden aggression. “We both paid the price for someone else’s mistakes.”

“Don’t talk to me about paying the price, you fucker,” you snapped, shoving against his chest. König yielded a step and it infuriated you even further to know that he’d allowed it. “You got the fucking job you wanted, you got the transfer you wanted, you got the training you wanted. Didn’t you?”

“Yes, but-“

“You wanna know what I got?” You snapped, shoving him harder this time. König’s eyes narrowed and he snatched your wrists, holding them against his ribs to stop your assault. You continued anyway, walking his body backward until his heels hit the wall. “I got put into a fucking coma.”

König’s gaze softened, his chest heaving beneath your hands. You could feel his heart pounding beneath your fists, you could hear his breaths grow ragged.

“I know,” he murmured, his fingers tightening on your wrists. “I was assigned to watch over your bed for those two weeks."

You stared at him for a long moment, sniffling and gasping for air after your rant. König lowered his head and his grip loosened.

“What I did to you…” he trailed off, unable to meet your gaze. How ugly must you have become that he couldn’t withstand looking at his own handiwork?

You turned around, hiding the hot tears forming along your lashes. You were so fucking ashamed by the terror gripping your throat, embarrassed by how much your image affected you. You hated feeling disgusting. You felt like everyone’s eyes were on you at all times it was suffocating you, they gawked and stared and whispered about how your 'pretty face was ruined.'

You began to understand why people wear masks.

“You ruined me,” you rasped. “And I couldn’t do anything to stop you.”

König was silent from behind you, mulling over your words. You couldn’t bring yourself to be embarrassed by your outburst. He had stabbed you, shattered your skull, broken your nose and jaw and nearly snapped your neck- he deserved to listen to you yell at him at the very least.

Fingers slid over your shoulders, slowly turning you around to face him. You tugged against his hold half-heartedly, vision swimming beneath never-ending tears.

“Look at me, Birdy.” His voice was soft and pleading, his hand slowly moving to cup your bruised jaw. You froze as he manoeuvred you, forcing you to face him square on. König slowly lowered himself to rest a knee on the ground, leaving him still taller than you but closer to eye level.

With the hand that was free, he reached for his hood. You swallowed nervously as he carefully pulled it from his head, resting the cloth on his upright knee.

Dirty blonde hair lay splayed across his forehead, the length curling by his ears. Dark brows framed the emerald gaze that watched you intently, taking in your visage as you observed him. All of him.

The scars caught your attention.

Winding from his upper lip, across his eye and leaving a line through his brow, the winding length of damaged skin presented itself. There was another scar along the bridge of his nose that travelled across the width of his cheekbone and into his hair.

“Do I…” König trailed off, full lips parting as he mused over his next words. You stared in awe at the innocence of the freckles smattered across his features. “Are you afraid of me?”

You said nothing for a long moment, mesmerized by the features of a man that had haunted your thoughts for months. He’d been the centre of your existence for so long, the reason you ached and the reason you’d bled. König had plagued your every waking moment ever since the incident, and now he knelt before you. He was on his knees baring his vulnerabilities to you, knowing you could destroy him with it.

“Of course,” you whispered; your voice shaky as you met his gaze.

König’s expression became pleading, “then let me teach you how to beat me.”

His thumb lightly caressed your purple cheek, brows furrowed as he took in his handiwork. “Let me pay for what I’ve done by teaching you how to never let it happen again. And when you finally beat me, revenge will be yours and you may do as you wish.”

“Anything I want?” The words slipped from your lips before you could stop them.

A wry, sad smile pulled at the corner of König’s mouth.

“Anything, mein vöglein.”

My little bird.

____

Next Chapter

#könig x reader #konig x reader #könig mw2 #könig modern warfare #call of duty #mw2 #cod #konig call of duty #konig x you #König x you #konig headcanons #konig mw2 #call of duty x reader #cod x reader

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feedmysheepministry · 2 years

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FEED MY SHEEP MINISTRY’S VIRTUAL WORSHIP!

DATE: Saturday, Juy 9, 2022

TIME: 11:30 AM CT

Link: https://meet.google.com/agt-baav-ipw?authuser=0

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suziesfaith · 8 days

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i am now closer to God that i’ve ever been sooo i’ve decided to post a few tips how to heal your relationship with Christ:)

1. read the Bible. even one verse is enough. look up „Bible verses for [mood/situation]” on pinterest, pray for wisdom and then read it!

2. engage in christian community. find christian friends - there are groups on fb, creators on tiktok, discord servers etc etc. ofc you can also look for irl friends! i am going to a biblical academy organised by my church today<3

3. pray. God already knows, so don’t avoid talking about difficult topics! if you have a trouble praying, i’d recommend analysing with Jesus what you’re grateful for, what you’re sorry for and what you ask for. that’s the core of my prayer.

4. watch a christian series or a movie (The Chosen my beloved!)

… more tips coming soon ┊͙ ˘͈ᵕ˘͈

#christian #christian faith #christianity #Jesus #God #Bible #faith #christblr #Jesus Christ #tips

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cutieeeszn · 10 months

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You and God:

Focus on your relationship with God and yourself. And everything will fall through. Don’t just be a Christian because you want to go to heaven, be a Christian for your love of God. Be a Christian, because you want a relationship with Jesus. Be a Christian because you care about Gods words, and you care about yourself.

When you heal yourself, focus on your goals, and listen and grow with God. Everything falls into place. Relationships, Jobs, Health, friendships. Everything is in Gods hand. All your questions will be answered in the bible.

God is the only one who has your best interest at heart, the reason he has created the 10 commandments and these other rules. Is because, he wants to protect us from the repercussions and end-results of these sins. God loves us so much that he hates sin.

Here are a few tips to keep your mind on God:

Christian Wallpapers

Christian alarms (setting these alarms with messages to remind you a bible verse)

Bible Study Everyday (I use an app called YouVersion, so many different study plans)

Going to church, and finding groups to join.

Christian Discord servers.

Incorporating God into your every day life.

Sincerely,

Bliss5tar

#black girl luxury #biblical femininity #christian bible #christian blog #christian girl #that girl #Christian that girl #hypergamy

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aziraphales-library · 6 months

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Hey there! What you are doing is really cool and Id like to ask if you can recommend fics that take place during wwi or wwii? Preferably with no smut and stuff like that in it?

Hello! Here are some fics for you...

Who Dares, Wins by Santillatron (M)

Aziraphale is an officer in the British Army. He hears about a fellow Brit captured somewhere he shouldn't have been, who is being kept far behind enemy lines and is apparently holding up miraculously well against the German methods of persuasion. He absconds to rescue him accompanied by a small band of men who decide to tag along, and the rest, as they say, is history...

In all my dreams before my helpless sight by SleepySelfLoathing (M)

Crowley doesn't remember the shell that destroyed his leg, but he wishes he could forget everything that came after. -- Or: Crowley loses a leg, Aziraphale is a nurse, and the Great War trudges on. Somehow, we all find rest.

Even to the Edge by hope_in_the_dark (T)

The Battle of Passchendaele isn't at all what Ezra was expecting. It's far worse than he could have imagined in more ways than he can count, and all he can think about is survival. And then he meets a man who changes (and saves) his life, and there is suddenly something that he cares about losing.

you're gone, and heaven cries by Imagined (T)

In 1915, Aziraphale goes to war. He heals, despite Heaven's belief that he shouldn't be using his miracles on humans, and sits by the bedsides of men he shouldn't be saving. And he writes - letters he shouldn't be composing, to a demon that will never see them.

Shell Shock by EdosianOrchids901 (T)

Not long after the church bombing, Crowley shows up on Aziraphale’s doorstep. He’s disoriented, on the verge of collapse, clearly in shock. Aziraphale isn't sure what happened, but he's determined to help. Can he?

The Angel of Dunkirk by imnotokaywiththerunning (M)

TV verse AU Springtime 1940: Hitler's army has started its march across Europe and Aziraphale is worried. Another war so soon after the last was almost unbearable. He and Crowley have decided to stay well out of it, but a visit from the Archangel Gabriel sends Aziraphale headfirst into a war he never wanted to see.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #world war i #world war ii #hurt/comfort #mod d

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hihiitscai · 10 months

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Okay I need to yell about antitheism because it’s so painfully rampant in leftist spaces, and there seems to be an emphasis on being antitheist specifically towards the Christian God and the countless denominations that believe in Him. Things like “well if he’s so loving then why xyz thing that’s bad in the world,” or “there cannot be a god that is both all knowing and all loving because xyz thing” or, as I encountered literally today, “you don’t actually love your faith or your god because you misunderstand your religious texts” and proceeding to say that there are no verses about God loving everyone, or “Catholicisms only value is in its aesthetic,” which I also saw today.

Leftist and otherwise progressive spaces seem to be suddenly okay with antitheism when it’s towards Christians because it’s, I don’t know, punching up? People have been hurt by it and the vast majority of oppression in the world is perpetrated in the name of Christianity, and therefore it’s okay to be blatantly disrespectful of something that is important to literally billions of people and brings joy to their lives? My faith brings me joy and hope and love and fulfillment. I am Catholic not for the church, but for the God that I love and who I know loves me. The church is the vessel through which I feel most connected to Him. And yet I am told that I misunderstand my own religious texts (that I have studied, by the way), that I am somehow unintelligent for believing in a higher power. Antitheism of this nature is in largely online spaces, I’ll admit, like in multiple different discord servers that I have been a part of that had “religion” on their blacklist, but really only meant Christianity. Pagans, Muslims, Jewish folks, all were allowed to talk about their faith and their holidays and their beliefs and practices, but as soon as I mention my excitement for Easter, or my preparation for Lent, I’m in violation of the blacklist and get a warning or a kick or whatever the case may be. And why? For those hurt by the church? It seems to be difficult for some to view the situation with any nuance and understand that healing from religious trauma can include deconstructing and reconnecting to your religion.

Also, please don’t hear me say that this is equivalent to the systemic oppression of religious minorities or that it is appropriation. It absolutely isn’t. But there’s an important point here to be made about systemic oppression (which this isn’t) and interpersonal prejudice/discrimination (which this is). You can experience discrimination on an interpersonal level and that is what a lot of antitheism is. Devaluing my beliefs and my intelligence on the basis of my being Catholic is interpersonal discrimination. And the fact that it is permissible because it relates to Christianity is as well.

#antitheism #anti theism

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dear-wormwoods · 10 months

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Rising from the dead to express a thought I had at the gym the other day while listening to IT again. I don’t know if anyone is still around to read this, and this post will probably be a bit incoherent, but - here it goes:

Okay, so we all know that Eddie feels a ‘rot’ inside him and that’s why he relates to the leper and goes back to Neibolt to put himself in the leper’s shoes before IT shows up.

I’ve written about this a few times over the years, so I don’t need to get too deep into it, but Eddie’s fascination with Neibolt only begins after he finds out that the leper doesn’t actually have leprosy but syphilis, at least according to Richie, and that the STD can be transmitted between men, not just men and women. It’s only then that his experience with the hobo transforms from a scary encounter with sexual overtones to something he identifies with in a way that’s confusing to him. He takes the feeling of ‘badness’ he’s had his whole life (see: church/toilet anecdote and shoplifting sign anecdote) and applies it to something he can actually visualize - physical rot, like he witnessed on the leper. He subconsciously associates the sexual nature of the leper’s disease with his own feelings - the rot is tied to sexuality, which IT used to target Eddie. The reason all this is relevant to THIS post is that Eddie is never able to express his thoughts and feelings in a way that is helpful or healing for him - he spends his entire life subconsciously repressing his sexuality, and thus is never able to rid himself of that ‘rotting from the inside’ feeling.

Which brings me to the scene I want to actually write about: the scene where Bill and Richie talk about Georgie’s death.

Like Eddie, Bill is weighed down by something rotting inside him - his feeling of guilt over Georgie’s death and thinking he’s responsible because he’s the one who made the paper boat. Unlike Eddie, Bill is able to voice his feelings, and voicing them allows him to let them go. He unloads on Richie, and subsequently receives some comfort, albeit not the best comfort because Richie is not very nurturing. Specifically, Bill feels clean after that release, which I’ll come back to in a bit.

On the same page, still on the subject of Georgie, Bill expresses that maybe Georgie didn’t know that Bill never meant for him to die, to which Richie responds:

This idea that death is like a window and everything becomes clear when you die, including knowing what others think and feel, seems like a relatively unimportant line at first glance. It definitely seems like Richie is making shit up - the closest line I could find to what he’s talking about is in Corinthians I, but that verse isn’t about death, it is about love and doesn’t mention any windows, only a mirror. Richie is just talking out of his ass. To be honest, I never paid this quote any mind any other time I’ve read or listened to the book. This time it jumped out to me because —

The concept returns upon Eddie’s death! Now, obviously Eddie’s death is incredibly important and meaningful because it symbolizes self acceptance in his last moments, but I never realized before that the window imagery had come up in the text previously.

As Eddie’s dying, both the ‘clean’ feeling Bill felt and the clarity Richie described come into play. This is the first time in Eddie’s life that he feels the ‘impurities’ leaving him. His death is cleansing him of his rot, allowing him to accept himself in a way he never has before. In addition, he’s able to see through a clear window and bask in the light of it, which, if what Richie said is true, means that he now has a true understanding of what others think and feel about him. This adds another layer to Eddie’s death that I never realized before - he is suddenly aware that the other Losers love and accept him for who he is, because he has that death clarity, and not only does that allow him to let go of his own pain and confusion (the rot), it almost allows him to voice his own feelings.

Richie loves him. The other Losers do too, but Richie is the one talking to him, the one he’s looking at in this moment, the one whose face he touches before he dies. He wants to voice his own love, because now that he’s let go of his self doubt he finally CAN, but dies before he’s able to.

The full Corinthians verse Richie MAY have been referring to before is often read at weddings:

Now, Richie was obviously inventing shit when he was comforting Bill, but there is something to be said for this verse re: Eddie’s death. It was not just about self acceptance, it was about accepting love from others and giving it in return.

After the fight is over, after ‘but he knew well enough’, when the Losers are back outside, this moment occurs:

Love overcomes everything, it’s the only thing that lasts, the thing that allows for full clarity and ‘knowing’.

All this dot connecting is to say that Eddie was going to say ‘you know I love you’, not ‘you know I hate that’.

#Stephen king’s it #eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #bill denbrough #it meta #it novel

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dejablonde · 2 months

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So I had to write a personal narrative for composition class. I wrote about post-ritual depression leading to a career change, and I thought ghumblr might enjoy. It's only 763 words (after padding it out with some extra academic phrasing) but I don't want to clog your feeds too much so it's below the cut.

"Have you ever like something so much that it rewired your brain?"

Have you ever liked something so much that it rewired your brain? I can’t pinpoint exactly when I first heard the band called “Ghost,” but it was most likely sometime in 2022. I think the first video (from whichever of the dozen algorithms we get our content from today) pushed to my feed was their performance on Jimmy Kimmel, where they played their song Call Me Little Sunshine. I was taken aback by their theatrical look and sound. I listened to a few more songs, became a casual listener, and even bought their latest album when I came across it at Josey Records. What I can pinpoint, however, is the day I turned feral: April 9, 2023, Easter Sunday.

Being only a casual listener still, I was curious as to what was going on when I saw that Ghost was trending on Tumblr. As I scrolled through the tag, it became more and more clear that, not only had they had dropped new music, but a new music video to match, almost entirely without warning: a cover of Phil Collins’ Jesus He Knows Me. Of course, I had to listen. From the driving intro into the first verse, to the poppy chorus, to the lyrics addressing hypocrisy from the church and its leaders, it was almost like twenty-eight years of religious trauma were healed in four minutes and five seconds, as if it were that easy. I wasn’t cured, but they certainly made a dent. I listened to it on repeat and branched into the rest of their discography. After two weeks, I finally caved and bought myself a pit ticket to their upcoming Dallas tour date.

When the day finally came, five months later, I could barely contain myself. I felt if I could leap hard enough, I would jump right out of my skin. I had taken advantage of the fact that I had the previous day off from work and pretended that I was taking a small trip for Labor Day. This allowed me the day off for the concert. My employers already think I’m strange enough; I didn’t see any need to make it worse by asking for time off to line up for a concert by a Satanic rock band hours early on a Tuesday. Despite the 103-degree weather that day, I made it to the general admission line around noon. I chatted with my new line buddies over the next several hours about the band, how we got into them, and a little bit about our lives in general over the water that the venue security provided. For the first time in a while, I was surrounded by people like me.

They say that concerts can be a religious experience. I’m not sure I agree, but they’re not exactly wrong. It really is overwhelming, or at least can be. Many aspects are similar, if not the same. Between the community and camaraderie with your fellow “congregants” and the feeling of the music all the way down to your bones, there’s certainly something that happens internally. This concert (or ritual, as Ghost fans lovingly call them) was no exception. After all, when you’re a stone’s throw away from your obsession, bathed in light and confetti, you can’t help but feel a little changed.

Post-concert depression is a very real and powerful force. It’s even stronger when you come back to work after finally feeling happy and rested only to be met with snideness not even fifteen minutes into the day. I was already dealing with years of declining morale. I wanted to be happy again, like I was the night before. I started looking at job postings immediately. I nearly got one in the same field but interviewed poorly. Eventually, I decided to make up for lost time and try to make a move into what my high-school-aged-self wanted. Or at least something close. Unfortunately, even though apprenticeship-type situations are common in the music industry, it’s very hard to break in without any kind of provable experience. I looked into some recording technology schools but didn’t really feel the need to go into debt on a loan for them. I was about to lose hope, but then I had a lightbulb moment and found that Dallas College has a program for Recording Technology. My application and registration were late in the game, but I was able to squeeze in before the start of this semester. Now, I’m finally doing something I want to do, and it’s all thanks to a funky little Swede in black and white makeup.

#the band ghost #papa emeritus iv #papa emeritus iii #papa emeritus ii #papa emeritus i #nameless ghouls #nameless ghoulettes #tobias forge #toblerone fudge #tender father #post-concert depression #DejaBlonde #my writing

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crimsonlocks · 2 years

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@schattenmagier (continued from this ask) “Oh, Florence told me to be more positive, so I hugged the first person that crossed my way and it happened to be you.”, Laurence said. And her reaction was great. She was so confused. Even though Laurence had hoped for someone else walking down that hallway... “And I agree, this felt great and I feel better about myself now. I could hugy even my enemy. I cound this as a win. Especially because you haven’t stabbed me.”, Laurence broke the hug and then started to walk away as if nothing had happened. “You should try it too. Just hug the first person you see and tell them to do the same. We can create a lovely hug chain like that.”

#may the good blood guide your way: in character #verse: the healing church #muse: laurence #interaction #schattenmagier

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velnote · 10 months

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Thoughts on “Make the Exorcist Fall In Love”

Been reading this during break and it’s a hidden gem amongst manga for me, so far as I can see.

I never imagined I would see exorcism presented in each action referring to a bible verse. As someone who loves biblical references and angels and demons and whatnot, this fits comfortably in my shelf.

I’ll try my best to not spoil anything here.

The manga tells us a story about a boy who is destined to be the world strongest exorcist, the only one who can defeat Satan when the time comes in his rebirth. Knowing this, the church raised the boy by teach him every single verse in the bible, and to live to it. Although the fact they call him “it” during the first chapter, they obviously look at him as a tool rather than human.

Our protagonist, the boy, or often called as Mr. Priest, practiced and use the word of god to ward off demons. As in using a literal bible verse about bringing sword to the world to summon a sword, or quoting a verse from Matthew about adultery to shook himself off from Asmodeus in his first battle. However this took a toll on him, leaving a trauma that hasn’t been healed ever since. It’s a recurring theme too in the recent arc (spoiler?)

I can see why the theme of lust and love is brought up in the first chapter, as it is about the journey of Mr. Priest to understand what is love. As it is his master’s wish for him to find love. Since due to the trauma, our protagonist hasn’t really understand the notion of love, growing up in an abusive environment and first known love the form of lust.

Few years after the incident, Mr. Priest is assigned to protect Imuri Atsuki, an artist who is apparently being targeted by Satan upon his wake. This will be a journey of discovering the meaning of love between the two. There’s a catch though, Imuri is not human, but no one really knows about it.

The artstyle is maybe not for everyone (as most the comments said they look like a child), but I think it’s nice since it contrasted the dark themes of the comic.

I really recommend it to anyone that is interested in biblical references, occultism, or just someone who wants to rediscover love along with them.

#make the exorcist fall in love #dumping my thoughts here because I want to scream abt it so bad but can't #it's so good #manga #manga recommendation #thoughts #velreads

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walkswithmyfather · 7 months

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“Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears My voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and dine with him, and he with Me.” —Revelation 3:20

“What Is the Meaning of 'Behold I Stand at the Door and Knock' in Revelation 3?” By Clarence L. Haynes Jr.:

“In the book of Revelation Jesus gives messages to seven different churches. Some scholars would say these churches represent seven types of churches you may find or seven types of people you may find in the church today. One of the churches that received one of his strongest messages was the church of Laodicea. In light of this church and the challenges this church had, what is the meaning of 'behold I stand at the door and knock'?

What Does 'Behold I Stand at the Door and Knock' Mean? Are there any Laodicean spaces in your heart where you think you are doing fine, but you have shut Jesus out? Where you are neither hot nor cold so you are not good for anything. If there are then the same invitation extends to you as it did to this church. Behold he stands at the door and knocks. Will you let him in? The difference between experiencing all God’s best and settling for much less and much worse hinges on whether you decide to open the door. We often use this verse to talk to unbelievers but remember he was talking to the church. Let’s make sure we always have the door of our heart open to Jesus so that he is able to do everything he wants to do in our lives.

Why Did Jesus Say 'Behold I Stand at the Door and Knock' to the Church of Laodicea in Revelation 3? Jesus didn’t have anything positive to say about this church. Here are the strong words Jesus used to described the church in Laodicea.

“I know your deeds, that you are neither cold nor hot. I wish you were either one or the other! So, because you are lukewarm—neither hot nor cold—I am about to spit you out of my mouth. You say, ‘I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing.’ But you do not realize that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked. I counsel you to buy from me gold refined in the fire, so you can become rich; and white clothes to wear, so you can cover your shameful nakedness; and salve to put on your eyes, so you can see.” – Rev. 3:15-18

Here are three characteristics of the church at Laodicea:

They were lukewarm. This was a church that was neither hot nor cold. Many people believe this lukewarm only means they were straddling the fence between the world and the church. What it really means is that they were good for nothing. They had no value they could offer. Laodicea was situated near two other cities, Hieropolis which was known for its hot springs that were good for healing and Colossae which was known for cold waters which provided refreshment. Because Laodicea was lukewarm the water they produced was not good for healing or refreshment and thus was not good for anything. As one scholar put it, you can drink hot tea or cold tea but warm tea is pretty much useless.

They were materialistic. This church was rich in material possessions which created a false sense of God’s blessing. This church is a reminder that you cannot equate the blessing of God to anything material, that is not a representation of spiritual maturity, or an indication God is pleased with your life.

They were spiritually poor. The worse part of this church is that they were spiritually bankrupt and they didn’t even realize it. If you would have asked them, they would tell you everything is alright, we are experiencing the blessing of God because look at all we have. Yet amid physical riches, they were lacking in any real spiritual blessings. Sad to say, many in churches today are unaware of their own spiritual lack.

How Does This Tie into Verse 20 ‘Behold I Stand at the Door and Knock’? Knowing what was happening in Laodicea helps you know the meaning of behold I stand at the door and knock. Let me point your attention to a few thoughts.”

[Read more here.]

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pugzman3 · 2 months

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This is just a few of the pieces to this. There is a lot more: symbols, sharing of religious areas and artifacts, the coexisting between churches and mosques, none of it is a coincidence. When you get this fact, the direction of things will start to make sense.

John 14:6

“Jesus saith unto him, I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me.”

King James Version (KJV)

John 3:16-18

16 For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.

17 For God sent not his Son into the world to condemn the world; but that the world through him might be saved.

18 He that believeth on him is not condemned: but he that believeth not is condemned already, because he hath not believed in the name of the only begotten Son of God.

There is zero question what these verses mean. Jesus is the ONLY way. Belief in the heart and confession with the mouth is the absolute one and only way to the Father. The path is clear and simple so that everyone can see it themselves, without men with degrees, or ordained "holy" interpretation from another man. Jesus is the only way and anyone who says otherwise is antichrist 1 John 2:22 & 4:3.

This unholy alliance of Chrislam is going to happen and then keep mutating into something worse. We will each stand alone before the Father to be held accountable. Not with friends, family, or a church....alone. So will people come out if Babylon and follow the words of God? I know it is a foreign thought for many; but apostacy is apostacy, whether it be new, or generations old.

So to all who worry, I remind you of the blind man Jesus healed in John 9. Remember, he was kicked out of the synagogue. And what did Jesus do when he heard it? .....he went and found him. He didn't leave him alone, he didn't go about his ministry, he went and found him and revealed to him who he was.

Jesus will not leave you stranded.

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monsterfuxkermarya · 2 months

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I am, unfortunately, a Christian woman.

And I, unfortunately, am a lot like the type o-negative song, simply titled “Christian woman”. I will never be like the nuns at my church or the dedicated mother doting on her children, either.

I give into temptation. I lust and give into the sins of the flesh. I beg to serve and be served sexually. I want to be on my back or knees.

But, Christ, oh Corpus Christi. The purest lamb, son of god and carpenter.

I bow my head in shame when I see someone pray. I wonder what it’s like not to struggle with your religion. I sob violently when I pray, ashamed of who I’ve become. I know the child I used to be is wondering where I went wrong, why I no longer try to believe. I cry for her when I pray.

I am, unfortunately, a Christian woman. And I’ve failed to meet so many expectations put upon me.

I curse like a sailor. I steal alcohol occasionally. I’ve gotten high. I masturbate at least three times a week. I skip church. I refuse to kiss and venerate the cross or priest, not out of disrespect, but shame and loss of belief. I don’t venerate the icon and I refuse to go to confession. I can’t look at an icon without my eyes welling up with tears in shame. When I was forced to go to church I was told I had to take communion, even if i hadn’t prepared or fasted. I felt so ashamed that I took your body and blood, knowing I had in no way prepared for it.

I was once the lamb covered in mud because time and time again I ran away from the herd and got stuck in a bush of thorns. My once beautiful coat is muddied. My skin is bruised and cut. My soul is tainted.

I can only hope that my sins will be washed away at the pearly gates. My coat will sparkle a fresh white, my bruises and cuts gone, my soul pure.

Because as I am no lamb anymore. I am the goat. The devils creature. My eyes have turned into slits because I judge people. I have grown horns to defend myself. My coat is so matted it becomes thin and bristly. My tail is jagged and torn.

I am, unfortunately, a Christian woman. And I, unfortunately, pray for forgiveness every Sunday night. The same night I usually find my fingers knuckle deep in my virgin sex.

I beg to be saved, to be cleansed by the holiest of holy water. I grip my prayer rope tightly and beg for this round of Our Father’s to be the one I stick to. I weep every time I go to confession, so ashamed of the sins I’ve committed.

I am, unfortunately, a Christian woman. But Jesus would still wash my feet, right?

I still have a favorite set of Bible verses I say to myself when I’m scared. The small child in me repeats them when the sky lights up with thunder and lightning in the dead of night. Joshua 1:9 and Ephesians 2:8-10 repeat every time I have to do something I’m scared to do.

I am, unfortunately, a Christian woman. I feel weak when I can’t continue my fasts because I get light headed and nauseous on my period.

I feel so unclean and ashamed of my period, even though it is a miracle and a blessing to be so healthy. I cry when my cramps hit, not only because of pain, but shame, knowing our savior went through so much more to save us. I writhe in pain for hours, hoping my suffering will make up for my sins.

My suffering will never make up for my sins. It will never make up for the people I’ve hurt and driven away. It will never make up for all the times I pushed Lord Christ away.

My back aches. My head pounds. My throat is dry and my eyes strain. My feet are sore. I know that if I were to come back to the light, be the lamb once again, my pain and suffering would subside. I could once again bask in the healing light of the Lord. But I feel as if I’m too far gone. My body has contorted into that of a goat, devilish and angry. I must defend myself as I have no God to guide me anymore. I strayed too far from his light.

I am, unfortunately, a Christian woman. And I can barely look Father John in the eyes.

He’s been my priest since I was a kid, I love him dearly. But I can’t even fathom telling him these thoughts. Having a person I’ve known since I was a kid know my struggles. I’m scared he’d bash me for falling so far from the light.

I am, unfortunately, a Christian woman. I fear the day that lent starts. It’s marked on my calendar with a question mark. March 18, 2024: lent starts?

It’s not a question because I don’t know when it starts, I’ve been aware since the beginning of the year. It’s a question because Am I Gonna Participate This Year? Will I go to vespers, will I go to confession, will I read the gospels, will I attend the matins services, will I fast, will I? Will I?

I am, unfortunately, a Christian woman. And I know all my actions and words cast shame upon my family.

My dad’s side of the family is from Greece. My grandma, God rest her soul, was a devout Greek Orthodox Christian. I know the farther I fall from my faith the more shame I put upon her and all her family before her.

My mom converted to marry my dad in the Orthodox Church. I wonder if she struggled with her faith as much as I do.

I am, unfortunately, a Christian woman. And my church is unfortunately my second home.

And I am estranged from my second home.

It brings me so much guilt and pain to step into my church, but the second I smell the incense and the chanting hits my ears I know I am home. The incense is infused with rose, the chanting in soft Greek and Arabic. I used to be able to chant with them fluently as a kid. I used to ask my dad what certain geek words meant. He’d spend hours explaining it if he had the time back then.

Oh, and the theotokos, the bearer of god, mother of the savior. I was so infatuated with you. I’d draw your icon in my sketchbook. I’d talk to you like you were my own mom as I waited to confess alone. I can’t imagine the pain you went through when you saw your son get nailed to the cross.

I weep in front of your icon now. I look at you and oh holy Jesus the Christ and weep. I have fallen so far you look like tiny dots of light from where I lay in the darkness.

I used to walk around the church in circles, looking at each and every icon. The portraits of saints, the depictions of the holy gospels, the last supper, Christ raising from the dead, Lazarus raising from the dead. I used to ask Father John who a certain saint was if their icon was really unique and look them up later.

I miss Lazarus Saturday and eating Lazarakia with my brother. I miss eating dolmas and plain rice as potluck instead of the usual feast because it was lent. I miss breaking the fast at three in the morning because that’s when the service finally ended when it started at 10:30 PM. I miss playing tsougrisma with my family. I miss screaming “Alithos anesti!” With the congregation. I miss trying to respond “indeed he has risen!” in as many languages as possible on Easter Sunday.

Because I am no longer a fortunate Christian woman. I am an unfortunate Christian woman.

And I long to go to church and not question the teachings.

And I long to make palm crosses with my mom and her friends.

And I long to read at the matins services and chant in the choir.

And I long to breathe in the incense and leave smelling like it.

And I long to be held in the warm and loving embrace of our Lord and savior Jesus the Christ.

And I long to say, “forgive me a sinner”, to be met with a soft hug and the loving response, “God forgives and I forgive” at forgiveness Sunday.

Forgive me a sinner, for I am an unfortunate Christian woman. I have sinned against thee.

#god #religion #tw religious themes #vent post #personal vent #slam poetry #maybe idk #monster fuxker marya #ex religious #religious guilt #yes it’s not smut #yes this is serious #im so sorry if you find out this way #orthodox christianity

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