#The Ancient Scriptures (Rules) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mill3rd · 1 month ago

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LIGHT OF THE LORD

synopsis. a woman of divine beauty, grace and fairness has plagued remmick’s mind and being. no matter where he goes, what time he’s in—you’ve been around every corner. he cannot escape your watchful eye. he knows you aren’t human but you are no vampire like him. and while he finds everything about his situation frustrating, he finds you quite intriguing.

tags and warnings. remmicks pov, hes pining unknowingly, mythical ambiguity for the most part, temporal ambiguity so lots of time skips, readers race isnt specified or specific to the story, know-it-all gf vs quickly humbled bf, fluffy, bit angsty, some discriptions of feeding

wc. 10k

1,385 years. one thousand, three hundred and eighty-five long, excruciating years in which remmick had no choice but to endure your presence—your seraphic presence. seraphic, not in beauty, but in that maddening way you carried righteousness like armor, wisdom like a curse. your face, ageless and untouched by time, only deepened his resentment. the more he was forced to see it—those eternal, untarnished features—the more unbearable you became. there was nothing soft or lovely about it anymore. your immortality was a wound that never healed, and he bled quietly beside you for centuries.

you came to him first in the rawness of your glory—nude, your flesh supple and unnervingly perfect, like something carved from the dreams of old gods. it was only weeks after the catholics had spilled into ireland, clinging to their bibles and breathing scripture like smoke. remmick, newly turned and still trembling in the dark, didn’t yet understand what he was. he thought he had died from the wounds carved into him by war and man, and he sobbed like a child beneath the stars when he saw you approaching—not through the river, but on it. your bare feet pressed the water’s skin as if it were solid, each step leaving behind a shimmer like fireflies or some underwater bloom. the stream itself was dull, lifeless. it had never glowed before. it never glowed again. only when you walked toward him like it was the most ordinary thing in the world did it come alive with light.

“the lord does not encourage such violence,” was all you said. or perhaps not to him at all—your voice was distant, almost drifting, as if carried on mist. it felt less like a warning and more like a half-forgotten thought, spoken aloud without meaning to. weightless, airy, like you were reminding yourself of some rule you no longer believed in, repeating it out of habit more than conviction. the words hung in the air, delicate and hollow, and remmick wasn’t sure if they were meant for him or the sky above.

your words unsettled him. the lord. even hearing the name turned his stomach. after everything he’d suffered—everything he’d lost—invoking the man upstairs felt like a cruel joke. it was tone-deaf, sanctimonious. so when you opened your arms, all light and grace, offering some divine comfort, he recoiled like you were poison.

“stay away from me!” he snapped, stumbling backward. “i ain't interested in walking with god’s so-called vessel.”

his voice cracked, thick with fury and something raw beneath it—betrayal, maybe. or grief.

you merely frown and watch as he scrambles off deeper into the trees.

remmick wandered deep into the woodlands, far enough that the moon vanished behind the thick weave of branches overhead. the air grew colder there, denser, and the only light came in faint silver slivers where the canopy broke. he let the owls guide him, their low, rhythmic hoots echoing like warnings through the underbrush. every step tangled him deeper in roots and bramble, the trees growing close and ancient around him, as if they were watching.

then—a sound. sharp, low, guttural. a growl, too deliberate to be the wind. it came from ahead, thick in the dark. his eyes adjusted, and he saw them: teeth gleaming like shards of polished bone, bared in a snarl that pulsed with threat. a wolf. broad-shouldered, fur rippling like smoke in the moonless dark. remmick froze.

good, he thought. maybe now, finally, it would all end.

but something inside him stirred—deep, primal, and hungry. not fear. not relief. hunger. sharp and sudden, like a spike to the gut. his throat burned. his limbs ached to move. and before he understood what he was doing, he stepped forward, slow and silent, toward the wolf.

it blinked, muscles tense, and backed away—eyes locked on him, more confused than afraid. it knew something was wrong. it sensed something unnatural.

remmick kept moving, drawn not by instinct to survive, but by something darker, something ancient coiled now inside him.

before he could even think to lunge, a light broke open behind him—blinding, radiant, pure white. it wasn’t overwhelming. no, it was no different to the faint light of a flame. it was just unnatural underneath the shade of the canopy. the wolf didn’t wait. it bolted, tail low and body vanishing into the underbrush with a panicked rustle.

remmick turned, breath sharp, pupils blown wide as his eyes locked onto the source.

you.

you, this insufferable, god-touched creature, glowing as if the stars themselves bent to your will. no flame, no torch—just you, radiating light as effortlessly as a flower bleeds scent. it was unnatural. it was maddening.

remmick let out a low, guttural growl. his body trembled with hunger, pain pulsing in his torn flesh like a second heartbeat. he was wounded, starving, half-mad—and there you stood, pristine, untouched, a walking symbol of everything he’d come to loathe.

he squinted at you through the harsh light, eyes narrowed, seething with anger and exhaustion. “wha’dyou want?” he snapped, voice rough like gravel. “i thought i told you to stay away.”

you didn’t answer. instead, your gaze drifted lazily to his face, head tilting slightly, eyes calm—almost amused.

“you are drooling,” you said, voice soft and unbothered.

remmick wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, scowling as he turned away. “can’t blame a man for being hungry,” he muttered, bitterness coating each word like tar.

you only smiled, a slow, knowing curve of your lips, and without a word, followed him—silent, steady, undeterred by his resentment. his anger rolled off you like water on stone.

“you will have to learn how to control that hunger,” you said, voice light, almost distant, like the words weren’t really meant for him alone, “you are not the man you used to be. not anymore.”

there was a quiet finality to it, as if the truth had already settled in the soil around you, waiting for him to catch up.

“what am i then?” remmick asked, voice rough and brittle, like dried bark about to snap. there was a weight behind it, something choked and bruised, the kind of heaviness that clung to a man who’d wept alone through too many sunless nights—because the sun, once warm and welcoming, had turned its back on him completely.

your expression didn’t shift. your voice was steady, almost cold.

“inhuman.”

“an’ what about you?” remmick’s voice cut through the air, a mix of frustration and suspicion. “you look human, but you ain’t one.”

you nodded slowly, your gaze steady, almost serene, as if every word you spoke was steeped in something far beyond him.

“a keen observation, remmick,” you replied, your voice soft yet filled with an ancient grace. “i am not human, nor have i ever been. i merely wear this face, this form, for as long as my time among mortals endures.”

remmick jumped at the sound of his name, the echo of it like a whisper from a past he hadn't invited. he never told you his name. never gave you the right to know it. yet, there it was, hanging between you like a thread woven from the air itself.

the world around him swayed, and it wasn’t from too many drinks of ale or beer. it was something far heavier.

“how did ya know my name?” he demanded, voice tight with disbelief, as his hand shot out, gripping your shoulder with an urgency that bordered on panic. “what even are ya? there’s something... unorthodox about you. nobody radiates light like that! and absolutely nobody galavants around naked, óinseach!”

you regarded him with an almost sorrowful expression, lips pressing together in a faint frown.

“i apologize,” you murmured, your tone gentle but laced with something ancient. “i can tone down my appearance if it frightens you.”

remmick froze, his pulse stuttering in his chest. then, before his very eyes, you shifted—your form bending, stretching, warping, as if reality itself could no longer hold the weight of your true essence. a blur of faces spun before him—his younger sister, laughing beneath the sun; his mother, her tired eyes soft with love; his wife, her smile warm, full of memories that felt like a dream; his older brothers, strong and brash, voices echoing through the corridors of his past; and his daughter, her innocent eyes full of questions, a life he’d lost forever.

each face flickered in and out of your shifting form, leaving a trail of aching familiarity in their wake, and remmick’s breath caught as the weight of it all settled over him.

a terrified yell ripped through remmick’s throat, his body jolting with a surge of panic as he stumbled backward, scrambling away from you. his legs carried him without thought, driven by instinct, his heart pounding in his chest like a drum of war.

he didn’t dare to look back. the images—the faces—clung to him like a curse, and the sight of them twisted something deep inside him.

this time, you didn’t follow.

you stood still, an immovable figure in the shifting darkness, watching him retreat with quiet understanding. your gaze lingered on the space where he had been, serene yet filled with a sorrow that was not yours to bear.

that was his first encounter with you and now he wears you like a burden. you didn’t show up for days after that and remmick began to believe you were a fever dream. something he made up due to delirium.

but then, just as suddenly, you appeared—the sound of waves washing softly on the shore marking your arrival. your natural glow was the only light beside the pale moon, soft and unearthly, illuminating the world around you in quiet brilliance.

remmick groaned in frustration upon seeing you, his shoulders sagging in resignation. “i thought ya’d have written me off by now. labelled me a lost cause.”

you shook your head, the motion slow and graceful, your presence like a steadying breath in the chaos of his mind.

“no,” was all you said, the simplicity of it carrying a weight beyond words.

without waiting for him to respond, you sat down beside him, where the sand darkened with the lingering traces of water’s touch. the cool salt air swept over you, and the ocean’s rhythm seemed to pulse in time with your being. the salty water kissed your skin, as though it had been waiting for you to arrive.

“i found some clothes so i would not stand out,” you chirped, your voice light and carefree as though nothing had transpired between you. remmick didn’t want any part of this conversation, but you were relentless.

he nodded, barely looking at you, pulling his head closer to his knee. “good on ya.”

“i wanted to give you space after our last conversation,” you continued, tone softening. “i realize i was... insensitive. and for that, i want to apologize.”

remmick raised an eyebrow, the bitterness in his voice sharper now. “if i accept it, will ya leave me alone?”

you laughed—a sound so unexpected and pure that it caught him off guard. the first time he’d heard it, and it was like a breath of wind through still air. “not forever, no. but for now, will that suffice?”

he sighed, letting go of the tension in his shoulders for a moment. “i forgive ya then.”

and just like that, you were gone. not with a quiet fade or a dramatic burst of smoke, but simply—gone. one second, remmick could hear the steady beat of your pulse, the rush of blood flowing beneath your skin, and the next, the world was empty, save for the sound of waves and the distant echo of his own heartbeat.

he waited in silence, the stillness of it pressing in on him, until his hunger clawed at him again, and he turned his focus to the water, waiting for a fish’s heartbeat to break the quiet.

it took remmick a long time to understand what he had become: a vampire. it wasn’t until he encountered others like himself that the true weight of his transformation hit him. in their eyes, he saw only the reflection of something monstrous—unnatural, evil. but remmick wasn’t evil. his life had been stolen from him, ripped away in a moment of violence, and now he was left to survive on instinct, just like any creature would.

that wasn’t evil. it was simply the harsh truth of nature’s cold hand. survival, stripped down to its most primal form. natural selection.

they taught him what it truly meant to feed, the raw satisfaction that came with fully indulging his hunger. feeding on humans—it felt strange, yes, but it also felt right, as if his body had been designed for this purpose and nothing else. there was no one to tell him there were other ways, no gentle voice reminding him of the choices he still had.

in truth, he hadn’t seen you in a long while. he hadn’t felt the comforting warmth of your light, nor the unsettling pull of your golden blood since that brief encounter at the beach. he had told you to leave him be, and you had listened—something he hadn’t expected but couldn’t help but feel grateful for.

still, as time passed, something gnawed at him. it was subtle, like a missing note in a melody, a strange emptiness in the quiet that followed your departure. part of him was glad you were gone, but there was another part—a part he couldn't ignore—that felt... unsettled.

when you finally appeared, remmick was nestled at the edge of an ancient castle ruin, tucked into the jagged rocks and rubble. the moonlight filtered through a gaping hole in the stone wall, casting silver beams across his form, and he lay there, eyes closed in quiet stillness. moonbathing, he called it. though, when you approached, he shot you a disgruntled look, clearly annoyed by the interruption.

“moonbathing?” you asked, your head tilting in quiet curiosity, “i understand that the sun darkens the skin, but why would you try to tan in the moonlight?”

remmick shrugged, not bothering to lift his gaze. “ha'fta keep my pale complexion up to date," he muttered with a dry smirk, clearly unbothered by your confusion.

“so you have no intention of tanning?” you ask, still standing in the frame of the hole in the wall. remmick shakes his head, “if i tried to tan, i’d get a little more than sunburn.”

you nodded slowly, a thoughtful motion, but before you could speak, remmick waved a hand and grunted, “move outta the way. you’re blocking the moon.”

he hadn’t exactly told you to leave, so you quietly stepped over the rubble, your movements as fluid as mist, and settled down beside him, folding your body against the cool stone as if it belonged there.

“do you know about constellations?” you asked after a pause, turning your head to face him, your voice gentle, like a breeze trying not to wake the earth.

remmick kept his eyes closed, but he could feel your gaze on him, steady and curious.

“no,” he muttered, “ya gonna give me a random fact o’ the day?”

you smiled faintly and nodded, undeterred by his sarcasm.

“many constellations are tied to the zodiacs,” you began, your voice slipping into that melodic cadence you often carried when speaking of old things. “twelve of them form a path the sun appears to follow throughout the year. the ancients charted them to navigate the seas, tell time, even predict their fates. and if you look just there—” you lifted a hand, pointing skyward “—you can see libra, the scales. it is faint, but present. balance, even in darkness.”

your words trailed off into the night, soft and steady, like starlight dripping into silence.

remmick grunted, finally cracking one eye open to glance at you. “fascinating,” he muttered dryly, “write a book about all that and they’ll string you up as a witch.”

“no one knows i exist,” you replied, calm and matter-of-fact, as if discussing the weather.

remmick sighed and let his head fall back against the stone. “iontach. so i’m the lunatic talking to the ghost nobody else can see.”

“i am not a ghost either,” you said with a soft smile, the kind that barely touched your lips but somehow warmed the space between you. “i am sure you have figured out what i am by now.”

remmick let out a dry chuckle, the sound low and a little hollow. “my best guess?” he said, eyes fixed on the sky. “i’m seein’ things. you’re not real—just something my mind cooked up to keep me company when the silence gets too loud.”

“if that is what you believe,” you replied, your tone quiet, unreadable—neither confirming nor denying, as steady as still water.

then, without another word, you rose, movements fluid and precise. you stepped lightly across the scattered bricks, your figure momentarily silhouetted in the moonlight as you reached the jagged hole in the wall.

“until next time, remmick,” you said over your shoulder, voice echoing just slightly, like it belonged to the night itself.

remmick watches as you disappear but he swears your hand lingers on the brick for a second longer. he’s left in silence now until your words echo, until next time. he groans, what about never?

he does see you. again and again and again. your visits get more frequent until you’re both caught unexpectedly in war. the eleventh century. remmick thought he had escaped your watchful eye and found himself hitching rides with strangers in their carts, hiding under thick velvet rugs until nightfall where he bid his goodbyes and wandered off. he should’ve known you’d find him.

remmick stood at the edge of the treeline, deliberately keeping himself in the shadows, avoiding the last vestiges of sunlight that hung stubbornly in the sky. his eyes scanned the valley below, where the battle raged fiercely, men clashing in a frenzy of steel and blood. the air was thick with the sounds of war—shouting, the clang of weapons, the stampede of hooves. it was chaos, but he was content to watch from afar, detached from the madness.

and then, as if summoned by some unseen force, you appeared. he didn’t need to see you fully to know—it was the light that gave you away. a soft, golden glow that seemed to push back against the fading daylight. it clung to you, hovering just at the edges of your presence, and for a brief moment, it felt like the world itself dimmed just to make room for you.

“ain’t bored o’ me yet?” remmick muttered, his voice laced with annoyance and something else—something he refused to acknowledge.

you didn’t answer immediately. instead, there was a slight rustle in the air, a shift in the atmosphere as you moved closer. when you did speak, your voice was serene, effortless. “not at all.”

he couldn’t see it, but he could feel the subtle shake of your head, the shift in the air that told him you were amused. you always were, always so certain and unbothered by his disdain.

he huffed, rolling his eyes and returning his focus to the battle below. you were like a persistent, unavoidable breeze—always there, no matter how much he tried to ignore you.

its silent between you two as you both experience the rage of the battle of hastings below, the cries of men filling the air as blood stains the earth beneath. the dying light of the sun casts long shadows across the field, and the sky is a mixture of fading reds and purples. you stand at the edge of the treeline, your presence almost otherworldly, that strange divine glow surrounding you like a halo. it's the kind of light that would make anyone believe you're something holy, untouchable, perfect. but remmick doesn't care about any of that.

he stands next to you, his arms crossed, eyes bored as they track the chaos below. his face is hard, indifferent—he's seen enough of human suffering to not bat an eye at it. to him, they're all just ants. he turns his attention to you, though, the faintest hint of annoyance crossing his features. it’s the same thing every time. you show up, radiating light, acting like you’ve got a hand in this world’s fate. he’s sick of it.

you speak, your voice a soft, almost ethereal whisper. “do you ever wonder if they know what they are fighting for?”

remmick scoffs, the sarcasm dripping from his words. “i’m sure they’re all very aware of their ‘noble causes,’” he mutters. “but it don’t matter, do it? they’ll die anyway.”

you give him a sidelong glance, those piercing eyes of yours studying him like you always do. “do you think death is all they’re meant for?”

“i think most of them wan’ it,” he responds flippantly, his gaze flicking over to the chaos below. “or maybe they're just too stupid to know when to stop fighting.”

you shake your head, a quiet sigh escaping your lips, your tone almost sad. “you’re so jaded, remmick.”

he looks at you then, an eyebrow raised. “and you’re so holy.” he leans against a tree, crossing his arms tighter. “if you think they’re all so deserving of your pity, why don’t ya help ‘em out?”

you ignore his question, your gaze fixed on the battle once more. it’s almost as if you can’t help yourself—you have to watch, to be present. but then something catches his attention. the flicker of an arrow in the last rays of sunlight. it's a fleeting thing, but remmick notices it.

before he can react, the arrow strikes you.

it’s quick. too quick for him to fully process. he hears you gasp, and then you stumble slightly, your hand clutching at your side. the arrow, so perfectly aimed, has found its mark in the divine part of you, piercing through the space where your beauty and immortality should be untouched.

he doesn’t react immediately. instead, his gaze lingers on you, observing the way your breath hitches as the golden blood begins to seep through your fingers. his mouth curls into something that might have been a smile, but there’s no warmth in it. there’s nothing but quiet satisfaction in the knowledge that he’s right.

you’re not as untouchable as you think.

“oh, look at that,” he murmurs, the words coated in a kind of cruel humor, “a little scratch. guess you ain’t as perfect as everyone thinks.”

he watches for a moment longer as you stand there, your form still glowing faintly even as blood drips from you. you’re not the same now. you’re broken. you’ve been touched by the same death that touches everyone, and for some reason, that gives him a sense of relief.

you look at him, and there’s a flicker of something in your eyes—concern, maybe. or maybe just a question. but remmick isn’t interested. he’s never been interested in your divine presence. he’s only been stuck with you because you follow him, despite the fact that he wants nothing to do with you.

he takes a step back, turning his gaze away from you. “well, i’ve seen enough,” he says flatly, his voice devoid of any emotion, “you’ll be fine. immortals like you don’t just die from an arrow.”

he called you immortal because he didn’t know what else you were.

and with that, he turns, disappearing into the trees, leaving you there. blood staining the ground, your divine light flickering weakly.

he doesn’t care if you survive. in fact, a part of him hopes you don’t.

he leaves you there, under the dying light of the sunset, and walks away without a second thought. the darkness of night soon envelops him, and for the first time, he feels a strange sense of relief. maybe this is what he wanted all along—an escape from your presence, from your light, from the divine pressure of your existence.

he doesn’t look back. he doesn’t even think about it. he’s long gone, disappearing into the night.

remmick hadn’t seen you in over five hundred years. for a while, he thought the peace would last. the solitude had been... bearable. a century of living on his own terms, without your relentless light or your judgmental eyes, was a relief. he wandered through europe, a ghost in the shadows of history. he watched the rise of new dynasties, the endless wars of vikings, the decline of the roman empire, and the brutal reign of genghis khan. centuries passed, each one feeling like a whisper in time, and he thought he had finally outrun you.

but the renaissance? that was the point where it all fell apart. it was the 16th century in france, and somehow, against all logic, he had managed to convince the royal family that he, too, was royalty—a lost prince from some forgotten kingdom. he was skilled in deception, after all, and no one really questioned an enigmatic figure like him. they believed his stories, and the royal family, desperate to flaunt their connection to ancient lineages, eagerly threw a ball in his honor.

“to celebrate the visit of prince remmick i,” they announced, and the court was abuzz. everyone was charmed by the mysterious foreigner, the one whose origins were as hazy as the fog that rolled across the french countryside.

as the night stretched on, lit by shimmering chandeliers and the glittering eyes of aristocrats, remmick found himself drifting through the crowd, always watching, always smiling with that knowing smirk.

he should have known. he should have known that your light would pierce through the shadows of his false life. and yet, he didn’t hear your footsteps, didn’t see your radiance until you were already standing before him, like a vision from another time, another world.

"ain’t bored o’ me yet?" remmick asked, half-amused, half-resigned. he starts the greeting the same way he started the last one you had.

you smiled softly, as if you'd never left, "not at all," you replied, your voice soft as always, yet carrying a weight he could never ignore. you seem to remember too how he greeted you.

remmick’s fingers curled into his palm, nails digging into the flesh. how long had he really been free? how long could he ever escape your watchful eyes?

the music swirled through the air, soft and alluring, as the orchestra in the corner of the ballroom played their delicate tune. the sound of strings filled the grand hall, echoing off the gold-trimmed walls. remmick held you close, his hand firm on your waist as he led you in the dance, effortlessly twirling you through the sea of guests. each step felt like a rhythm he had known forever, like he'd danced this dance with you a thousand times, even though it was only now that he realized you were real—more than just a haunting image from his mind.

you moved with an ethereal grace, laughter bubbling from your lips like a song he couldn’t help but chase. when he spun you, the light caught in your hair, and for a brief moment, it almost felt like the entire room faded away—just the two of you, floating through time. his chest tightened as you laughed, that soft, knowing sound, and he couldn’t help but notice how your presence filled the space around him. he’d never let himself feel this before, not for someone like you.

but before he could think on it too long, the dance shifted. your hand slipped from his and suddenly, you were in the arms of another man—an older figure, no doubt a noble, with a grasp on your waist that was far too close, intimate. you laughed again, a bright, airy sound that made remmick's stomach twist and churn.

this is the moment remmick realises you have a physical manifestation and you truly weren’t apart of his imagination.

he stood still for a moment, watching as you moved away, the warmth of your hand no longer in his, replaced by the weight of something heavy that clawed at his insides. his eyes narrowed instinctively as you, effortlessly, slipped into another’s embrace. the man held you close, spinning you with a tenderness that made remmick’s skin prickle.

it shouldn’t matter, but it did.

he swallowed down the odd bitterness that had risen in his throat. it was absurd. he wasn’t allowed to feel this way—this possessive ache. but still, he couldn’t help himself, watching the way you laughed in his arms, the way your eyes shone so brightly for someone else.

remmick shook his head, forcing himself back into the present. the princess he had been dancing with swirled into his arms, but his gaze never wavered from you. he couldn’t look away. it was as if the room had ceased to exist around him—there were no voices, just the sound of your laughter and the light that shimmered around you.

he knew it was futile to hold on to any of it, but for as long as he could, he would keep you in his line of sight, hoping you wouldn’t slip away again, like you always did.

as the music reached its final notes, remmick's gaze never left you. he watched as you slipped gracefully from the arms of your partner, your presence like a flicker of light lost among the throngs of well-dressed nobles. the man—his face now blurred by the growing distance between them—seemed unaware of the way you had subtly detached yourself, drifting into the crowd of silks and velvets, where the shadows danced just as intricately as the guests.

remmick felt an inexplicable urgency seize him. his fingers grazed the princess’s hand, and with a smooth smile, he pressed his lips to her delicate knuckles in a gesture that seemed far more rehearsed than genuine. “my apologies, princess,” he murmured, the words slow and languid, “but i’ve promised myself a moment alone. something about cutting the cake, you know? a royal tradition, i suppose.”

she blinked, clearly satisfied by the excuse, her smile warm and unsuspecting. “of course, prince remmick. go enjoy your cake.”

and with that, she was lost to the crowd of swirling dancers, her attention already diverted. remmick didn’t waste a second more. he gave her a lazy bow and watched her retreat into the gilded glamour of the ballroom. then, with a fluid, practiced motion, he slipped into the labyrinth of bodies around him, the rich fabric of coats and gowns folding into a soft blur of color.

he didn’t care about the cake. he didn’t care about any of it. all that mattered was finding you again before you vanished into the shadows once more. his heart pounded as his feet carried him swiftly through the crowd, his eyes darting over the sea of faces, seeking that unmistakable glow that had haunted him for centuries.

there. between the columns of the balcony, under the flickering candlelight. your silhouette, radiant even in the midst of so many others, a beacon amidst the chaos. remmick’s pulse quickened, a feeling—half desire, half something darker—stirring deep in his chest.

“long time, no see…” you breathe, your voice soft as you stand at the edge of the courtyard, staring out into the cool night. the moonlight catches the edge of your dress, making it shimmer in a way that feels almost too ethereal. “remmick.”

he swallows, his throat dry, and his eyes track the curve of your silhouette in the dim light. there’s something about the way the dress clings to you tonight—it suits you better than anything he’s seen you wear before. he can’t help but notice, even in the midst of everything else, how striking you are, even when you're so distant.

“yeah…” he hums, his voice rougher than he intends. “how long’s it been?”

you don’t turn to face him, but he knows you’re listening. “ah, five hundred years. it was quite the break from your presence,” he adds, with a hint of bitterness that slips from his lips before he can stop it.

you give a small nod, the movement subtle, but it feels like you’re acknowledging something deeper, something unsaid. your gaze doesn’t waver from the distant horizon, the city lights far below barely flickering. “it was quite the goodbye. if i remember correctly, you left me to die.”

remmick laughs, a hollow, cold sound that doesn’t reach his eyes. “you remember correct. i’m quite fond of that memory, actually.” the words fall out like a joke, but the edge to his tone betrays him. there’s something about it that feels unfinished, unsaid.

you remain silent for a moment, your eyes still lost in the night. then, slowly, your head falls into your hand, your fingers pressing lightly against your temple as if to hold back something that could break through. remmick watches you, his smile fading, the silence stretching between them.

he doesn’t say anything more, because he knows—no words would make this any less complicated.

so, he let’s you speak first.

“why did you leave me like that?” your voice is quiet, but it cuts clean through the space between you. you still don’t turn to face him, your figure leaning into the cold stone railing like it might offer some kind of answer he won’t give. the moonlight brushes your skin like a veil, softening the tension in your shoulders, but remmick can still see it—the weight you carry.

“i got quite the scolding after that,” you add, almost like an afterthought. “that was your… one hundred and fifty-sixth second chance.”

the number hangs heavy in the air. remmick shifts behind you, a half-sigh caught in his throat. he wasn’t keeping count—but of course you were. of course you would remember every time he failed to live up to whatever cosmic expectation you held over him.

you don’t sound angry. not really. just… tired. like the years haven’t worn you down, but his choices have.

“glad to know someone’s keeping count,” remmick mutters, easing in beside you. the stone railing presses into his spine as he leans back, angling his body just enough to catch a glimpse of your face in the moonlight.

your eyes drift to his—slow, reluctant—and for a moment, something catches in his chest. if he still breathed, it would’ve hitched, tight and sharp. you weren’t supposed to look like this.

he’d seen your face in every imaginable light: serene, righteous, unreadable. you always wore that same celestial calm like armor. but now… now you just look exhausted. not weary in the way mortals age and sag with time—but a deeper sadness, old and quiet, like the fading echo of a hymn long forgotten.

remmick isn’t sure what unsettles him more: the silence between you, or the way you won’t quite meet his gaze.

he swallows when you don’t respond, the silence stretching longer than he expects. so he tries again, voice lower this time, almost unsure, “if i’m on my one hundred and fifty-seventh chance… why didn’t you give up ages ago?”

you still don’t answer, and that unsettles him more than any sharp retort would have.

he shifts beside you, the corner of his mouth twitching in a crooked attempt at a smile. “seriously. you should probably reevaluate your standards after that.”

it’s meant to be a joke, light enough to pull you from whatever place your mind’s wandered to—but it lands heavy, as if even he knows it doesn’t quite cover the question he’s really asking.

after a long, deathly silence, you finally lift your head and meet his eyes. there’s no lightness in your expression—just that same quiet, ancient sorrow that’s lingered beneath your skin for centuries.

“do you want to know what i am?” you ask, voice soft but unwavering. “i am sure you have been wondering for a while.”

remmick lets out a dry chuckle, one corner of his mouth curling up. “you’re right about that,” he says, eyes scanning your face like he’s searching for the answer there.

“i am an angel of the lord,” you say, finally standing upright, your voice calm, absolute. “i was sent down to watch you—because god knew you would be trouble. that you would walk on both sides of the line between chaos and order.”

remmick stares at you like you’ve grown a second head. his eyes narrow, brows knit in disbelief, but somewhere beneath the confusion, it starts to make a horrible sort of sense.

“an angel?” he mutters, almost to himself. “an actual angel’s been breathing down my neck this whole time?”

he lets out a bitter laugh, scrubbing a hand down his face. “no wonder i couldn’t stand you.”

“you say that in past tense,” you note, stepping toward him, “it could not be that you havee grown fond of me, could it?”

remmick smirks, “it could be.”

“you are angry. i have seen it,” you say quietly, stepping down from the balcony into the courtyard, your voice almost drowned by the hush of the wind through the hedges. you gesture for him to follow, and after a beat, he does—reluctantly, hands in his coat pockets, expression unreadable.

you walk side by side beneath the open sky, your glow washing over the stone path, brighter than the moonlight itself.

“when everything first happened—when the celts came, preaching christianity,” you begin, eyes forward, “it was not meant to be violent. but vikings... they are unpredictable, as you know. they brought fire to what should have been light.”

remmick stays quiet, glancing sidelong at you.

“god wanted someone to keep a close eye on you,” you continue. “he saw your heart. the way you could bend the world. not out of malice—but defiance. if left to your own instincts, you would unravel the threads of his design.”

you look at him then, calm, steady. “so, he sent me.”

remmick stops in his tracks, brow furrowed. “i’m sensing a but,” he mutters, voice dry. “there’s always a but.”

“but,” you say, and the word hangs in the air like judgment, “after a while, he realized you could not be saved. not in the way he intended. salvation was never going to come easy for you.”

remmick stiffens under your gaze, caught in the weight of your eyes—ancient, unwavering. he doesn’t need you to say it. he knows exactly when that shift happened. the moment everything inside him twisted beyond repair.

you step closer, your voice softer now, though no less resolute. “it took me five hundred years to convince him to let me walk the earth again… to stay in your shadow. because even if you could not be redeemed, you still needed watching. without guidance, you would leave only wreckage behind.”

remmick clenches his jaw, but doesn’t look away.

“i thought,” you add, quieter, more human somehow, “if i told you the truth this time… maybe you would finally be open. maybe you would stop running long enough to let something reach you.”

the silence that follows is thick with everything unsaid.

“you seriously believe i can change?” remmick asks, his voice low, edged with disbelief.

you don’t nod. instead, you shake your head slowly and keep walking, the gravel beneath your feet crunching softly beneath your light steps.

“no,” you say. “you cannot change what you are. that isn’t the point.”

your voice is calm, measured, not cruel—just certain.

“what drives you is not redemption,” you continue, “it is motive. it has always been motive. family… yes? connection. people who see you. who understand you. who can stand to be near you without fear.”

you glance at him, eyes catching the dim moonlight. “that is what keeps you from falling completely.”

your voice fades as you round the edge of a hedge, soft as mist, leaving remmick behind for a moment in the quiet. he blinks, then stumbles forward, hurrying to catch up, boots crunching against the earth. there’s something in the way you move—slow, graceful, unbothered—that makes him wonder if you see him more clearly than he’s ever let on.

he walks beside you in silence for a beat, eyes narrowed in thought. then, low and uncertain, he asks,

“why’ve i been given another chance?”

the words feel foreign in his mouth, like they don’t quite belong to him.

“partly because i begged for it,” you admit, “but also because the fates favour you.”

remmick raises a brow, “favour me?”

you nod, slow and deliberate.

“they do,” you say, voice like distant thunder softened by the night. “you have been offered two paths. one carved from selfishness, where every step takes you closer to your own undoing. and the other…”

your eyes lift to the stars, catching their faint shimmer.

“the other is compassion. it asks more of you, but it gives something in return—quiet, contentment, maybe even joy. and one day, if you choose it, you might find yourself watching the sunrise not with dread, but with purpose.”

“so you know how i go out?” remmick asks and you nod, confirming his assumption. he wants to bombard you with questions but you hold your hand up, “we should head back.”

he listens without a protest.

before you part with him at the balcony entrance, you offer him some words of advice, “do not take my words lightly, think about your actions and do not rely on me to tell you what to do.”

remmick watches you as you glide through the crowd, mingling effortlessly with the nobility, your light drawing them in like moths to a flame. it’s a scene so far removed from him—so foreign—that the ache he had felt earlier surges back, tight and gnawing at his insides. it pulls at him, twisting his stomach in ways that leave him feeling hollow, desperate.

he tries to shake it off, but the hunger claws at him, demanding attention. he stumbles away from his place, moving quickly through the high, echoing halls of the palace. the walls, steeped in rich history, stretch endlessly before him, their reflection of his shadow twisted and distorted as he moves through them, a ghost within his own skin.

the overwhelming scent of life all around him hits like a wave, drowning his senses. the guests, oblivious, stand in clusters, their warmth and the steady pulse of their blood flooding his senses. it's all he can focus on now. the desire to feed is primal, insistent. there’s no escaping it, no distraction from it. not when the banquet is brimming with potential prey.

at the end of the hall, a figure catches his eye. the princess, the one he danced with earlier, stands alone for a moment, separated from the throngs. the hunger takes over before he can stop himself, and he jogs toward her, the rhythm of his steps faster than he intends.

“your highness,” he greets, bowing low, his voice smooth, almost too smooth. she smiles, a demure expression. she asks him about the cake, her voice light and innocent. he tells her, with a playful tone, how divine it was—how it tasted like nothing he had ever known.

she seems to believe him, her eyes sparkling with curiosity, but her guard is down, naive to the danger she’s unwittingly stepped into. with the fluid ease of someone accustomed to getting what he wants, remmick guides her away from the crowd, leading her into a quiet, dimly lit chamber.

the door closes softly behind them.

he doesn’t waste time. with a practiced movement, he presses her against the cold wall, his fangs sinking deep into her neck. the warmth of her blood fills his senses, and the ache, that terrible, gnawing ache, begins to fade with each drawn breath. he feeds greedily, thirstily, until there’s nothing left to take.

when it’s over, the room is silent, save for the faint echo of his own breath. her body slumps in his arms, lifeless, pale. he lets her fall to the floor, her blood staining the carpet beneath her.

remmick stands over her for a moment, his chest rising and falling as he surveys the damage. a small flicker of something—guilt, maybe? regret?—crosses his mind, but it’s fleeting.

he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, his hunger sated, but the emptiness inside remains. the cycle repeats. it always does.

he’s not going to change.

not long after that night, remmick fled paris—your footsteps trailing his despite his growing resentment. he never lingered anywhere for long, slipping through cities like smoke through fingers. yet, somehow, you always followed. unwillingly bound or stubbornly tethered, you were there.

he dragged you through the winding streets of spain, the frostbitten stretches of russia, the misty peaks of the balkans. he even wandered through the dense, humming cities of asia for a time, lost in a sea of languages and lanternlight.

but no matter how far he roamed, his footsteps always led him back to ireland. something about the damp green hills, the crash of waves against the cliffs, the ache of memory in the stone—his heart answered to it like a song half-remembered. it was the one place that still felt like his. or at least, where the ghosts felt familiar.

you’d washed up on the english channel in 1888, clothes heavy with salt and divinity, and drifted through london’s smoke-stained streets before finally making your way toward ireland. but your journey was delayed—four months, to be exact—by a detour you hadn’t planned.

a pitstop, as remmick called it.

he confessed with a twisted grin that he’d developed a taste for the blood of london’s street women. easy prey, he said. no one missed them, and no one looked too hard when they vanished. they came willingly, and their fear made their blood taste as sweet as it was tangy, he added, and left quietly.

you spoke to him as you always did—with the calm patience of eternity. you reminded him of light, of the path laid by the divine, of mercy, and restraint. you quoted scripture, invoked parables, and offered him alternatives. but he only scoffed, sharp-eyed and smirking.

“nothing beats an easy target,” he muttered once, licking the blood from his fingers as if it were honey.

and that was when you realized: some pitstops aren’t delays. they’re tests.

remmick came home that final night drenched in blood, the crimson soaking through his shirt and shining beneath your glow like oil on water. you didn’t ask where he’d been. you already knew. he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and flung the bloodied fabric into a dark corner of the hostel you’d both occupied for months. you didn’t meet his eyes. instead, you recited, quiet and firm,

“violence shall no more be heard in your land, devastation or destruction within your borders; you shall call your walls salvation, and your gates praise.”

remmick snarled at the sound of scripture, his lip curling as if the words burned him, “i told you to quit spewing that holy bullshit around me, angel.”

he said your title like a curse, like something he’d spit into the dirt.

still, you smiled—an expression that almost reached your eyes, though it never truly did.

“you live in a world built from devastation and oppression,” you said gently, stepping closer, “but the real prison, vampire, is the one in your own mind.”

remmick, in a sudden fury, swept a plate of fine china off the rickety wooden table. it sailed past you and shattered against the headboard of your borrowed bed, shards of porcelain raining down like splinters of his frustration.

“ain’t nothin’ wrong with my mind,” he barked, chest heaving. “i’m livin’ off what i know. what i am!”

your frown deepened. the glow around you dimmed, like a flame shying from wind.

“rough night?” you asked softly.

he groaned, dragging a hand down his face, smearing blood across his jaw.

“nearly got caught,” he muttered. “some fella interrupted my meal.”

you nodded slowly, walking toward the mess he’d made, stepping carefully over broken china.

“you have built quite the reputation for yourself,” you said. “jack the ripper, they are calling you now.”

remmick scoffed, holding up a hand as if to physically reject the accusation.

“that ain’t me,” he said. “there’s a difference. he—he guts ‘em. rips ‘em open like game. i just puncture the neck, nice and neat. drain ’em sideways, clean as i can. i got some standards.”

your eyes narrowed. “do you?”

“for my kind, i do,” remmick mutters, casting you a sidelong glance as he sinks onto the edge of the bed. the frame creaks beneath his weight.

he feels it again—that phantom pump, the ghost of a heartbeat that only stirs when you’re near. if blood still moved through his veins, it might’ve rushed to his face, warmed his skin. instead, he remains pale, a static figure carved in cold ash and shadow.

you don’t move. you stand there, still as a monument, graceful and ethereal. divine. everything about you—your poise, your silence, even the way the light bends to wrap around you—makes his chest ache with something unfamiliar. something like longing.

your glow brushes his skin like the edge of sunlight, and in that moment, he swears he can feel your heart. or maybe it’s his own, trying to remember how to beat. he shakes his head, breaking the moment like glass.

“i’m leaving tonight,” he says, voice flat. final.

you just watch him—silent, as always—as he picks up his old acoustic guitar. it fits in his hands like it was always meant to be there, an extension of him. he’s always had a gift for music. even in the earliest years, before he knew what he was, he’d whistle back at the birds when they sang at sunrise, tap rhythms into the bones of tables, the sides of carriages, the hollow of his own chest. it was instinct. but once he found the guitar, it all came together.

remmick doesn’t look at you as he starts to play, but you can see his shoulders ease. his fingers move fluidly over the strings, coaxing out a tune that feels older than this life. you pull out a chair and sit, the wood creaking softly beneath you. no words pass between you. for once, there’s no biting sarcasm or divine reprimands. just the melody, soft and unhurried.

he plays like it’s the only honest language he’s fluent in. and you listen, like it’s the only time you truly hear him. it's brief, but in that moment, there’s peace.

remmick knows it, you know it. you’ll follow him wherever he goes.

remmick stayed in ireland for three decades, tucked away in green hills and rain-soaked stone villages. of course, you were there—always there. disappearing for weeks, months even, only to reappear when he least expected it, glowing like a bad omen he couldn’t shake.

then came 1921. something called to him—a sound, delicate and haunting. a woman playing an instrument so beautiful it made his dead heart ache. he boarded a ship of irish immigrants bound for boston, chasing the echo of her melody. he claimed he wanted to reconnect with his roots, to find the family he’d left behind. the truth was more selfish.

the voyage was a disaster.

desperate to reclaim what he thought he’d lost—music, love, belonging—remmick tried to turn them all. everyone on board: children, parents, the elderly. but vampirism is no gift, and none of them survived the transformation. blood ran like wine below deck, and the woman with the gifted hands? lost to the chaos. he never even learned her name.

when the ship docked three days later, reeking of death and silence, he slipped off unnoticed. another new instrument slung over his shoulder like a trophy. the only thing he managed to save.

but you? you were gone.

no glow in the shadows.

no soft footsteps trailing behind him.

for once, he was truly alone.

the last time he saw you—really saw you—was at a juke joint deep in the mississippi delta, about twenty years later.

he’d been lingering just outside the shack, half-shrouded in trees and night, the thrum of blues rolling out of the open door like the sweet aroma of pie out a window. his mouth was wet, glistening—thick ropes of blood and spit clung to his lips, soaked into the collar of his shirt, cooling on his skin.

he was a mess. a predator fresh from the hunt.

but even in that haze, he felt it. that pull. that warmth.

you.

your light slipped through the trees before you did, soft and steady, brighter than the porch lamps and louder than the music.

he didn’t need to feel warmth anymore to know it was you.

he’d always know.

"i should be more surprised that you’re here," remmick groaned, not bothering to turn around. he didn’t need to see your face to know what expression you wore—he could picture it perfectly: the sharp furrow of your brow, the disappointment etched into every line.

he leaned against a tree, dragging a bloodied sleeve across his mouth.

"why now?" he muttered. "gonna try and talk me down again? throw a bible verse at me like it’s some kind of holy water? think i’m gonna suddenly grow a conscience 'cause you showed up glowing?"

his voice was tired, bitter.

"you always show up when i’m at my worst. like clockwork."

“you are straying from your righteous path,” you say, your face unreadable but your voice heavy with sorrow. “are you sure you want to do this?”

remmick waves a dismissive hand, “i’m sure.”

you shake your head slowly. “you did not heed my warning.”

he arches a brow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “you warn me all the time. how’m i s’pposed to know which one?”

he knows exactly which warning you mean. but remmick aims not just for the best—he strives for something beyond that. his selfish path feels carved into stone, unchangeable. you’ve spoken of another way, a second path meant to offer hope. but he never entertained that hope. not once.

“i know what you think i do not know,” you begin, your voice steady, eyes fixed on the back of his head, “there is more for you, if only you listen to my age-old warning.”

remmick clicks his tongue in frustration, something sharp and bitter rising in his chest.

you continue, voice gentle but firm,

“life is beautiful, remmick—whether you see it or not. and i know you are unable to, not anymore. you have grown bitter, i have watched it happen, piece by piece. but it does not have to stay that way.”

your eyes focus on his form, steady and unwavering.

“you still have time. you can make peace with them, with yourself. you can reclaim what you have lost. not everything is beyond reach.”

you pause, searching for something in his body language—anything.

“do not do this. do not spill the blood of good people just because you have forgotten what goodness looks like.”

your calmness feels like mockery. he snaps—like a wire pulled too tight—spinning around so fast it startles you.

“you can’t seriously expect me to listen to anything you have to say,” he growls, eyes burning, “not after you vanished for twenty damn years just because you finally saw what i was capable of! how are you supposed to be my guardian angel when you’re so unbelievably shit at your job?”

you think your heart breaks—and remmick thinks he hears it. not a dramatic crack, but something quieter, crueler. like dry glass splintering under pressure.

his eyes flash a deep, dangerous red. for a moment, it looks like he’s considering it—really considering tearing into something holy.

he’d been cruel before, callous beyond belief. but something about tonight lands differently.

you don’t shout, you don’t plead, you don’t fall apart.

instead, just a few tears slide down your cheeks, slow and soundless.

and that’s what gets him.

he never thought he’d see the day an angel would cry. from what he knew, you were carved from calm, built to endure without cracking.

but now, standing under the weak light of a crooked moon, he sees it. sees you.

not a symbol, not a mission. just someone deeply, utterly tired.

you don’t let him linger in your sorrow. as soon as you feel the tears, you turn away—too proud to let him see what he’s done. too divine to shatter completely in front of him.

your wings unfurl—slow, deliberate, and unlike anything he’s ever seen. vast and radiant, feathers pure as untouched snow, glowing faintly with a divinity that makes the dark around him feel smaller, weaker. they catch the breeze like sails on a departing ship.

remmick freezes. not because he’s scared, but because he understands.

this is it.

you’re leaving.

and this time, you won’t come back.

a part of him, the part still clinging to something human, wants to call out. wants to say don’t.

but he doesn’t.

he stays silent, hands clenched at his sides, jaw tight as he watches with empty eyes.

you offer him one last verse—your final tether, a hope you quietly beg he'll remember.

“judge not, that ye be not judged. for with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged: and with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again.”

your voice echoes long after your wings do.

with a single, mighty flap, the earth stirs beneath you. dust kicks up, grass bends, and then—

you’re gone.

all that remains is the soft imprint of your departure, a shallow crater in the earth where heaven once touched down.

his heart no longer beats in faux rhythm.

and when the sun finally rises, catching him where the shadows fail, remmick doesn’t flinch. doesn’t snarl or thrash or claw at the light like some cornered beast. he doesn’t beg, doesn’t run.

he just stares.

the light crawls across his skin, golden and relentless, and for the first time in one thousand, three hundred and eighty-five years, he lets it. he watches the sunrise not with fear or hatred, but with something else—something closer to awe.

his inhuman eyes brim with tears, not from pain, but from peace.

he knows you’re near. he can feel it. after all this time, he can still sense the pull of your presence like gravity. maybe you’re watching the same sunrise from some rooftop or ruin, silently praying for what’s left of him.

and maybe—just maybe—he’s praying too.

he imagines his ancestors waiting for him, the ones he lost to time and blood and tragedy, their arms open and music playing. but more than anything, he hopes you're there too.

and as the fire takes him, a slow, searing bloom that begins at his chest and spreads outward like a star going nova, he closes his eyes.

not in fear.

but in surrender.

in peace.

and he smiles.

you stand over the scorch-marked earth where remmick had burned. there’s no trace left of him—no body, no ash, just the faint smell of smoke clinging to the morning air and a body of water that moved indifferently as if remmick was never there.

you do not cry.

you knew this ending. had seen it coming centuries ago.

but still, your chest aches in a way that feels foreign. not divine. not righteous. just… human.

quietly, you kneel by the edge of a shallow stream, its waters catching the soft gold of the rising sun. your hand, steady and sacred, slips beneath the surface. it doesn’t take long. the chain finds you, just like he always did.

you pull it from the water—his gold chain, warm despite the cold stream, still whole.

your fingers trace its pattern, each link familiar, worn from centuries of wear.

you smile. not wide. not bright. but soft. pained. knowing.

“goodbye, old friend,” you whisper.

the wind stirs the trees behind you, and the morning continues.

you would not see his soul in the holy place.

not because he was born into darkness—he wasn’t. not because he was forced to live as he did—though that part was true.

but because remmick’s choices stretched far beyond instinct, beyond what was natural. he had time. he had chances. and every time, he chose wrong. knowingly, willfully.

and heaven does not make room for those who choose to burn.

#remmick x reader #sinners 2025 #remmick sinners #althea writes #remmick #jack o'connell #mill3rd

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shukraastro · 8 months ago

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Planets & Nakshatras observation on looks and traits

(applicable for spouse analysis)

Mars ruled Nakshatras: Mrigashira, Chitra, Dhanishta

The skin will have a pinkish/reddish undertone.

They can have cuts/scars/marks on the face (representing their fighting spirit).

Men are prone to anger issues (except for Chitra, cuz it lies in Libra, so they have good controle over their anger)

Women are usually restless or even anxious, especially in Virgo Chitra and Mrigashira.

Saturn ruled Nakshatras: Pushya, Anuradha, Uttara Bhadrapada

If Moon is in these Nakshatras then women can be seen wearing corsettes/shapewear or very tight clothes often, bcuz Saturn represents restrictions.

Saturn also represents ink and metals and in these Nakshatras a person can have tattoos and piercings, but a trigger planet for that would be Mars bcuz Mars rules over wounds and cuts. So Mars in these Nakshatras can very likely result in tattoos and piercings.

Purva Bhadrapada Nakshatra:

If you go back to my previous posts you will find about the foot injury trait of Purva Bhadrapada. I have seen this play out so many times that this Nakshatra will give some type of foot injuries, and prominently on the left foot. Justin Bieber has the planet Sun placed in his 7th house in the D9 chart and it is in the Nakshatra of Purva Bhadrapada. Sun is linked to performing arts, Hailey used to dance Ballet until she injured her left foot. You see how planets in Nakshatras inside the 7th house of the Navamsa can play out.

Also another thing I have noticed in this Nakshatra is the lip shape, they can have a pouty rectangular shaped lower lip. And women here somehow give off "island girl" vibes.

They can also have precognitive dreams, because they are very in tune with their higher self.

Rohini Nakshatra:

They love to wear oversized, baggy clothes and quality materials, because of Moon's influence, they love comfort. On the other hand they may also love to display their appealing physique.

They also love branded luxury items: cars, watches, clothes, perfumes. And they love food a lot, they can eat a lot (with Saturn influence they can be cautious and go on diets).

Also after eating food they will get tired, because of the Venus and Moon influence.

And they will always end up having no fixed work schedule in their career.

They can also become the most achieving at a young age, compared to their workmates.

DK planet or 7th lord in Rohini can give a spouse with sining and dancing abilities, Hailey Bieber has Moon DK/7th lord of D9 in Rohini. (Planets like Sun, Moon, Mercury and Mars can give that as talents, Jupiter could make someone a teacher in that area and Saturn could give it as a career).

Moon influence:

Moon connected to any spouse placements or 7th house can give musical talents in the spouse.

Moon in the 7th house can also either give a cat like appearance to the spouse or a bunny like appearance. Both animals are symbolically connected to Moon, cats are connected because of the hightened intuition and bunnies are connected by the chinese folklore of the moon goddess who's companion is the bunny/rabbit.

Mars influence:

Having Mars as DK/7th lord can indicate a spouse who might be a soldier/police/athlete just anything physical movement related.

Saturn in Rohini:

This combination can cause consumption of Whiskey to enhance creativity. A person will love to drink to feel relaxed and sing and dance. If Mercury influence is also there as well it can amplify this even more.

Saturn in Rohini can also result in dryness, skinnyness, lack of water in the body, dry/flaky skin and acne or other skin irritations. But therefor a person will be very disciplined in following a quality skin care rountine.

Ketu Ruled Nakshatras: Ashwini, Magha, Mula

Will have out-of-body experiences/precognitive dreams/sleep paralysis

They can be very interested in ancient history/culture/scriptures. They're all about the past and the root of things. They may love to dig under the ground, that's why Magha especially can make someone an archeologist or historian or even a teacher.

Also Magha is strongly connected with royalty/royal lineage. They may not be considered a royalty but counting a number of generations back, their ancestors might have been powerful individuals.

In these Nakshatras a person will let their hair grow out. Because hair is linked with roots. And Ketu is all about the roots, because it's the tail of the dragon, the tail represents the underground while Rahu, the head of the dragon represents the sky. So Ketu ruled Nakshatras will keep their hair long, it makes them feel spiritually connected to their past lives. There is something they cannot let go of from their past lives.

Revati Nakshatra:

Another Nakshatra which is connected to royal lineage. (same as Magha here also).

If a man has his DK/7th lord/Venus in this Nakshatra, his wife can be taller than him.

They love to travel and their travel journeys will be comfortable, without any kind of major complications.

They will also be very successful outside of their home country.

With Venus here, a person will find their spouse in a foreign country or move to a foreign country after marriage for their spouse. The spouse can also be someone who travels a lot or is successful overseas. Or a person will travel a lot with their spouse.

Rohini, Mrigashira & Ashlesha Nakshatra (snake yoni or symbol):

As the Ascendant/DK/7th lord/Venus natives will always attract strong Rahuvian people.

They have very intense and hypnotic eyes. Either dark and big or bright and slender. If their eye color is dark they may tend to wear light colored contacts, which can give their eyes a snake like appearance.

Ashleshas will be lisping.

Swati Nakshatra:

They can jump very high and run very fast, they love being in the air/speeding through the air, because the deity is Vayu, he rules over the air (Rahu ruled Nakshatra-Sky connection).

Venus in Swati can make a person have a love for the sky in a creative way, also can give singing abilities, because music is carried through the air, they can also have a love for good sports shoes (for jumping) or high platform shoes (Venus-fashion & Rahu heights). But these can also apply to the spouse, because Venus generally represents the spouse.

Swati can make a person be a fanatic for extreme sports related to heights like mountain climbing, bungee jumping and sky diving. Mars and Venus here can also make a person excel in martial arts and music.

Also they just can't stay still, they are always moving, and can't keep still for a second. They look like they can jump off any second.

I will do more of these observations for the other Nakshatras that are left.

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Thanks for reading. 🪐

#astrology #sidereal #darakaraka #navamsa #sidereal chart #vedic astrology #vedic chart #sidereal zodiac #nakshatra #vedic #future spouse #sidereal astrology #vedic astro notes #vedic astro observations #astro observations #astro notes

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aventurineswife · 11 days ago

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oh! Oh! What about a creator for sahsrau and sagau who has these really cool glitchy-like holographic effects (kinda like silver wolf) meaning that creator essentially codes themselves into the game to interact with sagau and sahsrau!!

YES. YESSS. That idea is peak divine techno-deity energy. Like you’re not just some distant god—they see you render yourself into their world, all flickering light and digital seams, bending the boundaries of the game from the inside.

You don’t descend like a traditional god. You phase in—a crackle of corrupted space, code threads trailing behind you, your form warping and stabilizing like a hologram constantly trying to keep up with your divine presence.

Think Silver Wolf’s aesthetic meets cosmic programmer: neon glitch trails when you move, static-y distortion when you speak, and UI-like sigils that hover around you—your eyes scan like debug overlays, like you’re seeing behind the curtain of the world. You’re not from their side of the screen.

You're not playing the game anymore. You are the system now.

SAGAU Characters Reaction:

These are the ones who see you as the divine architect of Teyvat—and now you’re walking around like a living console command.

Nahida is fascinated. She wants to learn from you, watching the code flutter off your fingertips like ancient scripture. “You… wrote this world, didn’t you?”

Albedo tries to understand your existence through science and alchemy, but eventually just surrenders and says, “You are beyond categorization.”

Ei? She's shook. You represent both eternity and impermanence—because you alter reality like it's clay. She becomes obsessed with understanding your form. Are you divine… or unstable?

Venti sings about your glitches like they're divine stutters—“Oh holy one, whose voice is broken only to be heard clearer.” He thinks it's beautifully haunting.

Diluc? Externally calm. Internally: That’s the god? The one glitching in and out of space?? Yeah, he’s processing. Slowly.

Childe is 100% down bad. You made the world and look like a living cheat code? He’s signing up for the cult.

Your glitchiness makes them think: they’re not just visiting—they're rewriting reality as they go.

SAHSRAU Characters Reaction:

This bunch? They’re more tech-savvy. They know what code is. But the moment you code yourself into existence? Their minds blow.

Silver Wolf basically IMPRINTS on you. “Waitwaitwait. You’re the dev and the system and the user?” She's practically vibrating. “You are the game. That's so hot— I mean, fascinating.”

Kafka watches your glitched entrance, smirking: “So you chose to break the rules to be with us? How romantic.”

Dan Heng tries to stay stoic, but his databank starts erroring. You literally exist outside known logic.

Blade thinks you're a hallucination until you patch his health bar in real time. He doesn’t say thanks, but the silence means something.

March 7th is amazed and immediately wants to take holographic selfies with you. “Does your code sparkle on purpose??”

You glitch in, rewrite the world, then ask if anyone wants to hang out. And they’re like: “HOW is this our god?? HOW are they this casually omnipotent?!?”

Your Powers Might Include:

Hovering UI menus no one else can see.

Code strings trailing off you like falling flower petals.

The ability to patch or delete enemies in real time.

Pulling someone’s status screen into the air with a flick of your hand.

Saying "/noclip on" and phasing through walls.

You’re less “chosen one” and more debug mode incarnate.

#x reader #honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #sahsrau #genshin sagau #genshin impact sagau #sagau

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phoenixrisingastro · 2 months ago

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You weren’t born—you emerged. Clawed out of shadow, dripping in the silence between lightning and thunder. You didn’t come here to smile politely and blend in. You came to taste every flavor of pain, power, possession, and pleasure. And leave fingerprints on the souls of anyone who dares to love you.

Scorpio Rising is not a placement. It is a pact.

An agreement between your higher self and your shadow. A contract that says: “We will never live lightly. We will never love softly. We will never die quietly.”

And so the world meets you not through your words, but your energy. They feel you before you speak. A presence that pricks the skin. Something ancient. Something wounded and weaponized. You don’t make an entrance. You cause a disturbance. Something in the air changes. Their pupils dilate. Their breath slows. Their trauma rises to the surface. Because your existence isn’t passive—it’s provocative.

You are the child of the underworld. Pluto’s mark is etched across your aura like a warning label: “Do not touch unless you’re ready to unravel”

Most don’t read it.

They touch anyway.

And then they wonder why they can’t forget you.

Because Scorpio Rising doesn’t do relationships. It does rebirths.

You either leave someone the same… or you never really touched them at all.

𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙈𝙔𝙏𝙃: 𝘿𝙀𝙎𝘾𝙀𝙉𝙏 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝘿𝙊𝙈𝙄𝙉𝙄𝙊𝙉

Scorpio Rising carries the mythos of every underworld god that ever ruled in silence.

You are Persephone—the maiden stolen, transformed into queen, holding pomegranate seeds between your teeth like secrets never confessed. You are Hades—the shadow king with eyes like oil and fire, who doesn’t seduce, but summons. You are Lilith—the original exile, the primal defiant, the dark feminine who said “no” and was branded dangerous for it.

But you’re also the phoenix—the bird that incinerates itself by choice, just to feel what it’s like to rise again with bloodier wings. You are the embodiment of sacred cycles: decay, death, and rebirth. You are nature’s reminder that nothing stays pure without cost.

You are the serpent and the orgasm. The poison and the cure. The lover and the executioner. And your life? Well, it’s a never-ending ritual of shedding skins no one ever saw you grow in the first place.

𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁𝘼𝘾𝙀 𝙊𝙁 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘽𝙀𝘼𝙎𝙏 — 1𝙎𝙏 𝙃𝙊𝙐𝙎𝙀 𝙎𝘾𝙊𝙍𝙋𝙄𝙊

Let’s speak of the body. Your body is not simply flesh. It is memory. It is armor. It is seduction with teeth. People look at you and see something unspeakable—something animal, primal, instinctive. Your features may be sharp, feline, still. Or soft but unreadable—masklike. But the eyes? That’s where the story bleeds through.

Scorpio Rising eyes are gateways. They are dangerous. Because they don’t just look—they strip. They see. They feel someone’s shame before the words reach the throat. You don’t need to ask questions. The answers come to you. You read body language like scripture. You sense fear like heat. And you move with the calculated silence of someone who’s been watched their entire life—and decided to do the same back, better.

You carry trauma like silk—elegantly, invisibly, wrapped around your hips and stitched into your shoulders. People assume you’re fine. They assume wrong. Your pain doesn’t show in breakdowns. It shows in detachment. Withdrawal. Obsession. In the way you crave intensity because peace is unfamiliar. You weren’t built for lukewarm. You were built for extremes.

𝙃𝙊𝙈𝙀 𝙄𝙎 𝙒𝙃𝙀𝙍𝙀 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙑𝙊𝙄𝘿 𝙄𝙎 — 𝘼𝙌𝙐𝘼𝙍𝙄𝙐𝙎 4𝙏𝙃 𝙃𝙊𝙐𝙎𝙀

Home never felt like home. It felt like an experiment. A lab where you were dissected emotionally or spiritually, even if not physically. You weren’t hugged. You were analyzed. Watched. Compared. Isolated. Told to be logical when your heart was screaming for connection. So you froze. You buried the ache in innovation, in rebellion, in cold detachment. You taught yourself that needing love made you weak.

But it didn’t. It made you human.

And now, as an adult, every relationship is a battle between the part of you that craves closeness and the part that would rather die than be dependent. You push away the very things you desire. You test people before you trust them. And if they fail (which most do), you vanish. Not out of cruelty. But because every disappointment reopens the wound you swore you’d buried a lifetime ago.

𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀𝙍’𝙎 𝙏𝙍𝘼𝙋 — 𝙏𝘼𝙐𝙍𝙐𝙎 7𝙏𝙃 𝙃𝙊𝙐𝙎𝙀

But gods always have consorts. And a Scorpio Rising is no exception.

You attract the stable. The sensual. The patient. Those with warm hands and calm voices who look like safety—but who often turn into mirrors. Because your lovers may come gently, but they leave marked. You burn through their illusions. You expose their needs. You awaken their fears. And somewhere in the middle, they forget who they were before you.

But you? You remember. You always remember. Because every connection becomes a tattoo on your psyche. You don’t fall in love—you merge. You don’t date—you possess. You don’t want sex—you want access to the soul.

And when it ends (and it always ends) you grieve like a widow. Even if they’re still breathing. Because every love for you is a small death. And you are always both killer and mourner.

𝘾𝙍𝙊𝙒𝙉𝙀𝘿 𝙄𝙉 𝙁𝙇𝘼𝙈𝙀 — 𝙇𝙀𝙊 10𝙏𝙃 𝙃𝙊𝙐𝙎𝙀

But even gods rise from the pit. You weren’t meant to stay buried.

Your 10th house is Leo—the sign of kings, performers, royalty, legacy. You were born to rise into the light despite the darkness. Not to forget your pain—but to wear it like armor. Your past was your test. But your future? That’s your kingdom. And it’s built on the bones of every person who underestimated you.

You will be known. You must be known. Not for being soft or palatable—but for being unforgettable. Your career path isn’t about labor. It’s about impact. You’re here to provoke. To transform. To become the icon people whisper about but never fully understand. You’re the story that can’t be copied. The archetype that redefines what power looks like.

Scorpio Rising doesn't climb ladders. It burns them and builds a throne from the ashes.

𝙄𝙉 𝘾𝙇𝙊𝙎𝙄𝙉𝙂—𝘽𝙐𝙏 𝙏𝙃𝙄𝙎 𝙉𝙀𝙑𝙀𝙍 𝘾𝙇𝙊𝙎𝙀𝙎

If you have this rising sign, then know this:

You are the doorway and the destroyer. The siren and the storm.

You will always be too much for most. That is the point.

You came here to live at the edge. To taste every venom and still smile. To be the wound and the healer.

To be feared, yes. But more importantly—to be respected.

To be remembered.

You are not here for comfort. You are here for evolution.

And if they cannot handle your depth?

Let them drown in the shallows...

#astrology #astro community #astrology content #astro placements #solar return #pluto astrology #astro observations #astrology observations #vedic astrology #astro notes #scorpio #scorpio rising #PhoenixRisingAstro

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soulmatesinc-if · 2 years ago

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A light-hearted interactive fiction game about soulmates, chances and choices, written in ChoiceScript.

|| PLAY HERE || [149k]

|| extra content ||

Here at Soulmates Inc we specialize in chance meetings!

Love happens.

It takes by the storm. It is lucky, it is cruel, it makes no sense, it elevates. It is beautiful, it rears its ugly head, then it is beautiful once again. Now that, humans can manage on their own.

Soulmate-grade connection is an entirely different brand. Enter you. That's your brand. It requires dedicated labor. Whimsical meetings. Nuance.

As a soul-link, you arrange for those destined matches to happen using the powers of glamor at your disposal. An ancient practice, really, though, as with everything, it has evolved and happily marched with the times. You work out of an office, have a phone plan, a lease, and a favorite restaurant. Your boss is not a half-naked man with a bow and arrows but a fashionably dressed man who goes to a gym and drives an electrical Mustang.

It is nice. Modern.

Just one rule. The only rule, in fact. A scripture, if you will: never interact with a soul directly.

Which is precisely why your most recent half-match staring at your confused face is so damn bad. Worse yet, they can see right through your glamor for some reason.

Now what?..

love is all around you but it does not have to be for you: play as aro, ace, bi, gay or straight. Your romantic prospects are three, but each has a story to tell

explore who you are: a firm and enthusiastic believer, a burned-out office worker, or a skeptical soul-link questioning their purpose

use and evolve your soul-link powers: Empathy and Shroud

keep up with your job duties and bring people together while trying to protect your employer from a greater looming threat

someone is throwing around heavy words like 'destiny', but dealing with existential questions is entirely optional!

Amber | Andrew Wyatt Once a high-performer soul-link, they flew too close to the sun and snooped around where one does not snoop around. Having fallen from grace at a company that believes in chances, Wyatt is back on probation, though under your supervision. The light is snuffed out of their eyes, and instead of being a firm believer, Wyatt now drips disillusioned pearls of what they think is wisdom.

A languid redhead who wears sunglasses more often than not.

Samuel | Samantha C. Powell Sam has a steady job, does weekly family visits and always parks the bike properly. How do you learn that? Sam is also your sparkling new charge, a common everyperson, a salt of the earth—nope, not that simple at all! You cannot seem to find their soulmate (never happens) and they can see through your glamor (never happens either). To be fair, Sam is freaked out by it, too.

Your sporty charge in a wrinkle-free T-shirt with a mess of locs held back by a band.

Martin | Mia Romero A hectic ball of energy that is a human person, they are passionate about their distaste for your employer's business and are happy to go in length about it. Romero is messy, yet strangely put together in their belief: a hurricane that may sweep you off your feet if you are not careful enough. They know things, things no human should. You should probably report that to your boss...

A city dweller with hair tied sloppily in a short low ponytail, perfectly matched with dramatic eyebags.

#interactive fiction #if wip #if game #if intro #choicescript game #soulmatesinc if #romance #choicescript #cyoa #humor #urban fantasy

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athenaeum-of-the-herald · 2 months ago

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• Blackness and the Worshipping of "The White Man's God" •

TW/CW: Racism, anti-blackness, religious trauma

With my next few posts, I wanted to dig into some far deeper, more emotional, and personal topics that I feel I haven't seen discusses in the helpol community. Please understand that these new few posts come from my personal lived experiences and don't apply to everyone, but I feel like are topics that should be discussed and seen.

There is something to be said about growing up in religion, as many young black girls do. Even more to be said when we leave the faith we grew up with behind.

From a young age, I was taught the Christian God. Warned that leaving his side meant damnation. Taught that to leave God and even learn other religions was condemning myself to a life of sin. And this isn't just a young, black experience, as every race deals with the intensity of religious trauma spread throughout generations in the form of tradition. But in the black community, this feeling suffocates. It is ingrained in our very being, as our ancestors who were slaves were made to pray to a God that wasn't ours until we forgot what ours looked like. Until too many generations had folded their hands on their knees in pews forcibly carved by their fathers. Their grandfathers. Their great grandfathers. And that's not to say the black community is indoctrinated, but maybe it is.

No, indoctrinated isn't the right word. We simply pass down what we were taught, as our parents and grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins were.

I remember when my church swapped out the photo of Jesus for a black one. I remember looking at it and wondering where the Jesus with lighter skin and blue eyes and wavy brown hair went. It was only when I began developing a sense of self that I had realized blackness meant not serving "the white God." Jesus was black. Every black person knew that, and to deny it meant you yourself weren't black.

Yet we still worshipped him in buildings modeled after those built by our great grandfathers who worshipped a Jesus with lighter skin, bluer eyes, smoother hair.

To be black is to be Christian. Catholic if you can afford the gas to drive to the bigger, nicer churches. And to leave Christianity is to be exiled from the community that you spend your whole life with. Your family. To not believe in God means you have the devil in you. Even the gang members that lived on my street had Bible scriptures tattooed on their bodies. Men I would see at church every Sunday in suits with their grandmothers and mothers. Folding their hands and praying for their friends that had been gunned down by other black men earlier that week. I'm sure the men they gunned down the week prior did the same thing. Funny enough, I remember as a little girl, when the shootouts would happen, my dad would have my brother and I get low to the ground in the house, and pray. So that in the unfortunate event that a stray bullet found its way into one of us, at least God would take us.

Even steeped in sin, to be black is to worship God.

Leaving Christianity was hard. It wasn't an all at once thing. It happened slowly. Starting with an interest in Greek mythology and Egyptian gods. I read Heroes of Olympus in middle school in secret, my dad would've thrown away my books if he knew I was reading about the Greek gods. My history class did a segment on ancient Egypt, and I studied every book on Anubis in the school library. I never checked them out, I was afraid they'd be found.

Maybe there was a taboo to it. To be black and interested in other religions. The spiral away from Christianity started there.

It was only in tearing my eyes from black Christianity that I began to notice that there were 2 paths of religious blackness. Christianity, or ancestral. You either worshipped the one and only God and no other, or you worked with your ancestors and respective black deities and rejected any other. Two very opposite paths, both with one similar rule.

You do not worship the white man's god or gods.

A black hellenic polytheist isn't some strange anomaly. Some rarity that's impossible to find. But it feels that way. I have met a handful of black helpols, and funny enough, we all typically come from previous religious backgrounds.

Of course black hellenic polytheists exist. But it could be considered that the vast majority of those within the religion are of lighter skin than we are. To announce yourself as a black follower of Greek gods tends to be met with off-putting looks from other black people. At best, a light laugh and a "sure". At worst, condemnation from the religious. Blackness means worshipping black gods. Or the capital G. Gods forbid your skin be lighter like mine is, where you'll be met with "that's that white in you."

On the other hand of this, you have non-black/poc worshippers with their own racial biases. Those who consider this religion theirs and not something for the black community to taint. I've been told plenty of times, "You have your own religion."You have closed religions and practices already. Why can't we have this one?" Mind you, none of these people were of Grrek descent. Simply ignorant children and adults with no understanding of themselves or how religion works.

So where does that leave blackness in hellenic polytheism?

Well, sometimes I don't know. But I find comfort in the gods I worship. In the gods I revere. Perhaps my blackness will always be a source of religious contention internationally. Perhaps externally.

But within the community I find in diverse spaces, there will always be acceptance of my blackness, and I pray that any black hellenic polytheist reading this feels the same.

Xaire the deathless gods, who do not see the color of my skin, but the beauty of my offerings ♡

#hellenic polytheism #helpol #hellenic polytheist #hellenisticismos #hellenisticism #library: learning #tags for reach:#hellenic worship #hellenism #hellenic deities #hellenic community #witchblr #hellenismos

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nerdygaymormon · 10 months ago

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Scriptures for queer people

I like that the scriptures show life is messy and complicated. God works with really flawed people and they learn to measure up and do amazing things. The scriptures are full of contradictions as people try to figure out God’s will and how it applies in their situation. The scriptures show that God’s people are a mess and often get it wrong. These are the chosen people? In that case, I’m doing alright.

God is an out-of-the-box thinker who wants to be inclusive. The scriptures teach me that God values a relationship with me, will adjust things so the gospel works for me and my situation, and God can help me do amazing things.

I'm not claiming to be an expert or that people should agree with my interpretations. I'm simply sharing how I am thinking of these verses when I apply my viewpoint and experience as a queer Latter-day Saint

Instead of concentrating on all the specific answers & rules, I look for the overarching themes of the scriptures, I can apply those principles in my life and to my life’s situations. Some principles & teachings are more important than others, we can use the more important ones to help us think about the rest. The Bible emphasizes love, equality, & justice, we can use these to filter which messages are important for us and which should remain in the past as part of ancient cultures. For example, the Biblical principles of loving other people as yourself and treating others how you want to be treated should cause us to dismiss slavery even though the Bible allows it. Would forbidding someone from marrying who they love while allowing yourself that opportunity fit with the Biblical principles of love, equality, & justice? No.

I think most people view the Bible as decidedly anti-queer because certain “clobber passages” are regularly used against queer people. A closer inspection of those “clobber passages” shows when put back in context they’re not quite what people think. For example, ‘don’t have gay sex...as part of worshiping a pagan god.’ For the record, straight sex that is done as worship of another god is also condemned, but nobody goes around saying all straight sex is banned.

The verses people like to use to condemn homosexuality, when put back into their cultural context and original language, they are condemnations of sexual exploitation and abuse which was common in the ancient world. They are not condemnations of loving, consensual same-sex relationships. The marriage doesn't define what marriage is, so how can people claim the Bible is against same-sex marriage?

There’s queer-positive scriptures that are usually ignored because they don’t fit the anti-queer narrative people want the Bible to have.

We’re also taught in Matthew 7 that good principles don’t bring forth bad results (“a good tree cannot bring forth evil fruit, neither can a corrupt tree bring forth good fruit”). If teachings are bringing forth bad outcomes for a whole group of people, then we should discard those, they aren’t good.

It's sad to me that so much of modern Christianity identity is about being against LGBTQ people and against abortion when those things are not condemned in the Bible, but the Bible goes on and on about forgiving debt, liberating the poor, healing the sick, and loving others. Where are the sermons and Sunday School lessons on forgiving student debt, guaranteeing health care to every person, loving our LGBTQ+ neighbors, and decrying racism? The Bible has a lot to say about protecting women and children. Do we preach more about queer people and abortions than we do condemning domestic violence, sexual assault, and molestation?

If every Christian church congregation in the United States decided to provide resources to help every child in foster care reconnect with their family or get adopted, each church would need to help only 1 child and there'd be none left in the foster care system. Same for the number of homeless people each church would have to help get into a home for there to be no more homeless people. Christians could transform the nation and the world if they actually applied the lessons taught by Jesus.

————————————————————

Genesis 1 & 2 - Adam & Eve AND Adam & Steve : The purpose of this story isn’t to discount being gay or trans, in fact queerness fits into this story

Genesis 2 - Tree of the Knowledge of Good & Evil : Humans have been messing up what to do with the concept of good & evil. Gender roles are a result of the Fall

Genesis 3:20; Genesis 17:5 & 15; Genesis 32:28; Numbers 13:16; Matthew 16:17-18 - Changing Names : The Bible has much to teach about our obligation to respect a person’s name

Genesis 4:9-10 - Your Brother’s Blood Cries Out to Me from the Ground : The blood of queer people is crying from the ground

Genesis 6:9 - Noah’s obedience led to destruction : Kindness & inclusion are more important than obedience

Genesis 7:2-3 - Noah and the Ark : Some people point to the animals on the ark as proof God only honors male/female pairings, however for many animals Noah didn’t just bring 2 of them but 14, which offers opportunities for diversity

Genesis 9:13-16 - Rainbow : Queer people carry the promise of the rainbow

Genesis 9:20-27 - Noah & Ham : It’s wrong to use this passage to justify the enslavement of people, or to be against love between consenting gay adults

Genesis 12:1-3 : A blessing to all families - If we choose to harm rather than to bless queer families, then we are not the people of God

Genesis 16 - Hagar : We may still be required to deal with difficult situations, but we have a God who hears us, a God who knows us

Genesis 19:1-11 - Sodom & Gomorrah : It’s ironic THIS story is used against queer people when its message is the opposite

Genesis 19:26 - Lot’s wife turned into a pillar of salt : She became a memorial to the destruction of two cities and likewise we need to witness and bear record of the suffering and marginalization of queer people

Genesis 21 - Hagar, Part 2 : God finds all of us in the wilderness

Genesis 22 - Rejection of Ishmael and Binding of Isaac : We aren’t asked to sacrifice our queer children, doing so may cut us off from God

Genesis 25 - Jacob & Esau : The great blessing didn’t belong to the manly man but to the effeminate one

Genesis 34 - Rape of Dinah & the Response : Diverse viewpoints are needed in positions of power & decision making

Genesis 38 - Tamar : It is a sin to deny people fair treatment & they are justified to find solutions when basic rights are denied

Genesis 37-46 - Joseph Sold by his Brothers into Slavery : Life gets better and there may come a time for forgiveness and reconciliation

Genesis - The Bible teaches that wealth is destructive

Exodus 1 - Pharaoh Seeks to Murder the Hebrew Baby Boys : The right thing is to defy the oppressors in order to protect the innocent and the vulnerable

Exodus 3:14 - I AM THAT I AM : I am who I am

Exodus 3:15 - The God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob : Why not say “the God of Abraham, Isaac & Jacob”?

Exodus 10: 7-11, 24-26 - Passover is an annual reminder that we do not negotiate at the expense of others : Civil rights aren’t to be given sparingly, we fight for all.

Leviticus 18:5 & Ezekiel 20:11 - Doing what You Need to Live : Living is more important than obeying commandments

Leviticus 18, 20 - Lie with a Man as with a Woman : These verses forbid Jews from engaging in male-male sex done as part of pagan worship

Numbers 9:1-14 - Second Passover : God finds ways to include people

Numbers 21:6-9 - The Brass Serpent : The people’s tradition of not worshiping idols made them misunderstand what God wanted from them. What traditions do we have that blind us from what God wants for us?

Deuteronomy 22:5 - Cross Dressing : This verse isn’t about performing drag or living as a trans person, it’s meant to avoid harming others

Deuteronomy 23:17 - Whores and Sodomites : The word “sodomite” is used for male prostitutes

Lessons from Moses’ life for Queer Folks

Judges 4-5 - Deborah : A woman prophet? What else is possible?

Judges 19 - Murder of the Levite’s Concubine : Despite this horrific story, we don’t condemn heterosexuals & heterosexuality

Ruth & Naomi : The Bible celebrates this relationship of 2 women

1 Samuel 16:7 - The Lord Looketh on the Heart : Gender & orientation are matters of the heart and God knows us for who we are

Jonathan & David : The possibility this is a same-sex relationship blessed by God is why this story has been a favorite of queer Christians

1 Kings 14:24; 1 Kings 15:12; 1 Kings 22:46; 2 Kings 23:7 - Sodomites : The Hebrew Bible condemns worshiping a different god

Esther : By ‘coming out,’ Esther changed how the king viewed a marginalized group, and gender non-conforming people are the unsung heroes of this story

Book of Job : God had a different path for Job, and queer believers know God has a path for us

Psalms 27 - With the Lord’s Strength, We don’t need to Fear : The Lord won’t abandon us even if our parents do

Psalms 126:5 - Shall Reap in Joy : Life gets better

Psalms 133:1-3 - How Pleasant it is for Brethren to Dwell Together in Unity

Psalms 139:13-14 - I am Fearfully and Wonderfully Made : Our sexual orientation & gender identity is woven throughout our bodies

Proverbs 6:16-19 - The 7 Things the Lord Hates : Being Queer ain’t on the list

Isaiah 3:9 - Declare their Sin as Sodom : Sodom’s sins are not taking care of the poor or visitors & not feeling guilt for committing sins (notice being gay isn’t one of the sins of Sodom)

Isaiah 43:1 - I have Called Thee by Thy Name; Thou art Mine : God is with us no matter whether our church is

Isaiah 51:1-2 - Abraham and Sarah are Intersex? : A traditional Jewish understanding for why they’re infertile is that they were intersex

Isaiah 54:2 - Enlarge the place of thy tents, and let them stretch forth the curtains : We need to make room for not just more people but for more diversity

Isaiah 56:3-7 - Eunuchs Welcomed by God : God’s way is radical inclusiveness, God doesn’t marginalize people

Jeremiah 1:5 - Before I formed thee in the belly I knew thee : You are not a mistake. God loves you and intentionally made you into who you are

Jeremiah 16:1-2 - God tells the prophet Jeremiah not to marry nor have a family : How does this fit with the Latter-day Saint idea of exaltation where marriage is required? Maybe we need to expand our vision of heaven

Jeremiah 29:1, 4-7, 11 - God Plans to Give You Hope and a Future: God’s plan includes blessing & prospering You

Ezekiel 16:49-50 - Two types of forbidden things, To’evah is forbidden for Jews and Zimah is an injustice or a sin : The gay sex acts prohibited in Leviticus 18:22 & Leviticus 20:13 are to’evah, not forbidden for anyone but the Israelites

Daniel - Daniel & Ashpenaz : God supports a loving gay relationship

Hosea 6:6 - God desires mercy, not burnt offerings : True religion isn’t about practicing rituals, it’s about extending love and mercy

Joel 2:28 - Restoration of Gospel Leads to an Increase in Knowledge : Science is providing knowledge about queer people

Amos 5:23-24 - God Wants Justice, Not Our Hymns : Enough with the talk, let’s enact real change to achieve justice

Jonah - Jonah was swallowed by a fish because he was okay with genocide : prophets are not infallible, they carry personal prejudices and biases with them

Micah 6:8 - "What does the Lord require of us?" Are we to kill our enemies for a vengeful God? No!!! Micah teaches "To do justice, to do kindness, and to walk humbly with God." That is the whole point for the prophet Micah." : Are we just & kind to our queer siblings?

Malachi 4:6 - The human family is going to be united : if queer people are excluded then the whole is cursed

Socially Queer Jesus & Disciples : Queerness fits naturally with the life and teachings of Jesus Christ

Matthew 1 & Luke 3 - Jesus’ genealogy : Think what this means for chosen family

Matthew 1 : Joseph chose mercy over the Law - Joseph preserved Mary’s dignity and life

Matthew 2:1-12 : The Magi visit the Christchild : The Magi knew of the Savior’s birth but not those who read the Hebrew Bible. Knowledge, wisdom, and truth come from many sources and those inside a religion may be blind to what is apparent to others

Matthew 4 - Denying Identity is a Tactic of the Devil : Understanding who we are is an important part of facing the challenges of life

Matthew 5:30 : And if thy right hand offend thee, cut it off, and cast it from thee : if a church continues teaching queerphobic things, it may be necessary to cut it from your life in order to survive and thrive

Matthew 5:21-48 - Ye have heard that it was said...But I say unto you : Jesus is saying this text has been interpreted one way, but He is giving a better way. With all that God taught about loving others and about all being alike unto God, what is a better way to interpret how we treat and love queer people?

Matthew 5:43-48 - Love Your Enemies : These verses refute the idea that the two great commandments to Love God and to Love Our Neighbor are in conflict

Matthew 6:9-13 - The Lord’s Prayer : We’re meant to build heaven on earth. There’s an idea that queer people will no longer be queer when they die and then can have joy and all the blessings. That’s wrong! We’re to have joy in THIS life. We’re to have justice in THIS life. We’re to have all the blessings in THIS life. We’re to be treated alike in THIS life.

Matthew 6:27 - Can’t change your height or extend your life just by thinking about it : Queerness is not something we can simply choose to change. Thoughts, prayer, & faith aren’t going to change this part of who we are

Matthew 7:9-12, 16-20 - If his Son Asks for Bread, Will He Give Him a Stone? : Our Heavenly Father is more liberal in his views, and boundless in his mercies and blessings, than we are ready to believe or receive

Matthew 8:2-3 - Jesus touched the leper : Contact with queer people heals others of their anti-queer bigotry, which leads to the question of who actually needs to be healed?

Matthew 8:5-13 - The Centurion and his ‘Servant’ : Jesus holds up a gay man as an example of faith for all to follow

Matthew 9:10-11, Mark 2:15-16, Luke 5:29-30 - Jesus invited sinners & disciples to His house and fed them : We also can invite people to our homes for meals as a way to show we love them and want them in our lives. As Ben Schilaty likes to say, “Love the sinner, invite them to dinner.”

Matthew 9:18-26; Mark 5:21-34; Luke 8:41-56 - Woman touched the hem of Jesus’ garment : She persisted in getting what she needed. Queer people have to persist to get what they need

Matthew 10:29-31 - God knows of every sparrow that falls to the grown and has numbered every hair of your head. You are worth more than many sparrows : You can trust that God isn’t squandering souls, isn’t creating queer people while simultaneously condemning them for being queer

Matthew 12:50 - Who does Jesus proclaim as brother, sister, and mother? : Chosen Families

Matthew 13:24-30 - Parable of the Wheat and the Tares : This parable teaches that the wheat and the tares can’t be separated until the very end. That to pull up tares would also uproot the wheat. Whichever one we are, we’re inseparable from each other. We can’t remove them without removing ourselves. Only Christ can tell them apart and will separate them. However, a lot of people think they can tell, and unsurprisingly, they always think they’re the wheat, and often they assume queer people are the tares

Matthew 14:22-23 - Peter Walks on Water : Queer people need to believe in ourselves, that’s when miracles happen

Matthew 15:7-14 - But in vain they do worship me, teaching for doctrines the commandments of men : Some churches are misguided and teach the biases of humans rather than God’s message of love

Matthew 15:10-20 - The things that come out of a person’s mouth come from the heart, and these defile them : Racist, transphobic, and homophobic words make us unworthy

Matthew 15:21-28 - Yet the Dogs Eat of the Crumbs which Fall from their Master’s Table : God’s love is so expansive it can surprise and stretch even Jesus Christ

Matthew 17:1-9; Luke 9:28-43 - Jesus Comes Out : Jesus revealed the deepest truth about Himself to His closest friends

Matthew 18:6 - Do not Offend the Little Ones who Believe : Being queer isn’t the problem, it’s the church experience that is broken and defective

Matthew 19:5-12 - Marriage & Eunuchs : Jesus declares men who aren’t attracted to women are exempt from a male+female marriage

Matthew 19:14 - Let the little children come to me, and DO NOT HINDER THEM, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these

Matthew 19:16-23 - Obey the commandments to have eternal life : There is no commandment to live a heteronormative life

Matthew 20:1-16 - Parable of the Laborers in the Vineyard : Queer people are relying on the goodness of the Master to bless us the same as others

Matthew 21:18-22; Mark 11:12-25 - Jesus curses the fig tree : The only time Jesus cursed a fig tree was for not being fruity enough, maybe we should contemplate on that as we consider how to love our LGBTQ+ neighbors

Matthew 21:31 - The Publicans and the Harlots go into the Kingdom of God before You : Church leaders are setting themselves up to go from ‘First’ to ‘Last’

Matthew 21-27; Mark 11-15; Luke 19-23; John 12-19 - Final Week of Jesus’ Life : Many lessons from Jesus’ life apply to queer lives

Matthew 22:17 - Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar's, and to God the things that are God's : Jesus says to follow the law, and the law say that same-sex marriages are legal.

Matthew 22:23-32 - When His disciples asked about marriage and about whose wife someone will be when they reach heaven, this was Jesus’ answer, “You are in error because you do not know the scriptures or the power of God. At the resurrection people will neither marry nor be given in marriage, they will be like the angels in heaven.” : Sounds like no heterosexuality in heaven. Sorry.

Matthew 22:36-40 - The 2 Great Commandments

Matthew 23:37 - Even as a Hen Gathereth her Chickens under her Wings : Jesus uses feminine pronouns and imagery to illustrate His role

Matthew 25:1-13 - Parable of the 10 Virgins : the foolish bridesmaids listened to those who said they weren’t worthy to meet the groom

Matthew 25:14-30 - Parable of the Talents : telling queer people not to “act” on their queerness is akin to telling us to bury our talent and to go back to the Lord without doing anything with it

Matthew 25:31-46 - Jesus will use how I Treat Others to Determine if I Inherit his Blessings : Mistreating queer people isn’t a qualifier for Christ’s blessings

Matthew 26:36-46 - Garden of Gethsemane : Asking for help & seeking emotional support is Christlike

Easter & Queerness - Jesus' resurrection can be read as a coming-out story : Jesus came out into a changed body and new way of life. Likewise, queer people come out into a new identity

Mark 1:10-11 - God Knows Us, We aren’t a Mistake : Many queer people get messages of love from God

Mark 1:32 - Jesus is teaching that under certain circumstances it’s okay to break the rules about the Sabbath.

Mark 2:1-13 - Friends Lower a Paralyzed Man through the Roof to be Healed by Jesus : Better to break the house than to break the person

Mark 2:27 - The Sabbath was Made for Man, not Man for the Sabbath : We don’t have to break ourselves against the commandments. They’re for our benefit, not our harm

Mark 9:17-27 - This is a story of demonic possession which causes the individual to act in strange ways, and when the demon(s) is cast out the person is healed : Today we use medicine and counseling because we understand diseases and mental health issues. When we know better, we should do better.

Mark 10:46-52 - Ask People Questions and Listen : “We need to listen to and understand what our LGBT brothers and sisters are feeling and experiencing”

Mark 12:30-31 - Love God and Love People : There’s no greater commandments. How do we love queer people, and do they recognize how we treat them as love?

Mark 12:41-44; Luke 21:1-4 - The Widow’s Mite : Jesus condemns making the widow impoverished and the same applies to queer people who are asked to sacrifice all they are

Mark 13:24-37 - Fig Tree’s Leaves Show Summer is Near : Members are trying to build a church that’s more inclusive of LGBTQ+ people. Maybe summer isn’t near, but perhaps it is Spring as it seems the winter chill is thawing

Luke 1:27 - Mary is a virgin : The Greek term parthenos normally referred to an unmarried woman of marriageable age, because in their society an unmarried female typically hadn’t yet had sex. As a missionary, I learned the Korean language does the same thing, all unmarried women of marriageable age can be referred to as a virgin, even though some unmarried women have had sex. But if we keep with the tradition that Mary was in fact a virgin as we think of that term in English, and she did not conceive through ordinary means but through the Holy Spirit she produced an offspring without a human father, then that raises some interesting questions. For example, the Y chromosome is inherited from the biological father, which calls into question how is Jesus a male? Could this suggest Jesus is trans?

Luke 1:37 - Nothing is impossible with God...except for LGBTQ+ people getting into the Celestial Kingdom, at least that’s what some Christians believe

Luke 1:78-79 - Give Light to Them that Sit in Darkness : Going from the darkness of the closet to the dayspring when we learn our Heavenly Parents love us

Luke 2; Matthew 1:18-25 - Nativity Story : Queer people can see ourselves in this story

Luke 2:52 - Jesus Increased in Wisdom and Stature, and in Favour with God and Man : Jesus didn’t marry, as a church we need to reprioritize what is important

Luke 3:12-14 - Jesus was able to meet people where they were at. He didn't ask the Roman soldiers to stop being a Roman Soldier. Jesus told him to be just and virtuous in his soldier duties. How does this apply to queer people?

Luke 3:23 - Jesus began His ministry at age 30 : There’s no rush, come out when you’re ready

Luke 4:16-30 - No prophet is accepted in his own country : Jesus understands the hardships & joys of ‘coming out’

Luke 4:17-21 - What did Jesus come to do? : Do we liberate or oppress queer people? Do we share God’s abundance with them or withhold it?

Luke 7:36-50 - Woman who Anoints Jesus’ Feet : Queer people’s tears wash Jesus’ feet

Luke 10:25-37 - The Good Samaritan : Members of the church avoid the injured man, or perhaps are even the ones who hurt him

Luke 13:24-30 - The First Shall be Last and the Last First : We’re gonna be surprised at who gets into heaven

Luke 14:15 - an ass or an ox fallen into a pit : Under some circumstances it’s okay to break a commandment/covenant

Luke 15:1-7 - The Lost Sheep : The 99 sheep are also sinners but they think it’s just the 1 who is lost

Luke 15:8-10 - The Lost Coin : The woman’s joy at being reunited with her lost coin is like God’s joy at being reunited with a queer person.In this case, the coin didn't ever leave the house, it was hidden, buried under dirt and dust. Only when she cleaned did she find the coin. If we truly make space for queer people, we will find they're here waiting. They will make themselves known.

Luke 15:11-32 - The Prodigal Son : Queer People go on a journey similar to the Prodigal Son

Luke 17:34-35 - One Shall be Taken, and the Other Shall be Left : There shall be two men in one bed; two women shall be ‘grinding’ together, some of them are saved and some aren’t

Luke 22:10 - A Man Carrying a Pitcher of Water : A man not conforming to gender norms is mentioned without any negative connotation

Luke 22:33-34 - Paul will deny Jesus 3 times : What if Jesus tells Paul to deny Him so that he would live to lead the church? Queer people sometimes deny being queer in order to be safe (especially when they’re in the closet)

Luke 22:50-51 - After Peter Slices Off a Man’s Ear, Jesus says “No More of This!” and Heals the Man’s Ear : One day Jesus will say to those who harm queer people, “No more of this!”

John 1:11 - His own received him not : Many queer people experience being rejected by their families and loved ones

John 3:16 - Whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life : Despite what some teach, Jesus didn’t come to earth to condemn us, but to save us. Unfortunately, some Christians add “unless you’re queer, in which case you can’t have eternal life”

John 4 - Jesus meets a woman at a well and points out she has had 5 husbands and now lives with a man to whom she is not married : What’s interesting is Jesus doesn’t call her to repent or command her to stop sinning. Contrast this with purity culture.

John 6:37-39 - I Shall Lose None of all Those He has Given Me : The Church may cast out, but Jesus does not

John 8:2-11 - Woman Caught in Adultery : Jesus stood with the woman, not the religious leaders

John 9 - Who sinned, the blind man or his parents? : We all have inherent value and should be respected and loved

John 10:10 - I am Come that They Might have Abundant Life : A Harvard Study found Relationships are key to happiness, as are having good health, being educated, having coping skills, and giving back to the community. This is how to have joy, don’t deny this to queer people.

John 11:43 - Jesus Helps Lazarus to Come Out : Coming out of the closet can feel like going from being dead to coming back to life, or to being fully alive

John 13:23 - John, whom Jesus Loved, is Laying against Jesus’ Breast : Could John & Jesus be in a same-sex relationship?

John 13:26 - Jesus feeds Judas : Jesus never excluded Judas, Judas excludes himself. So why does the church exclude queer people and treat us as enemies?

John 13:35 - By This Shall Men Know Ye are my Disciples if Ye have Love One to Another : To be Christian is to love others, including LGBTQIA+ people

John 14:1-3 - “In my Father's house are many mansions...” : Christ doesn’t tell queer people there’s not a place for us

John 20:15 - Supposing Him to be the Gardner : Jesus is our Gardner

John 20 - Doubting Thomas : Maybe Thomas was the Faithful One

Acts 1:15 - Peter has a dream where God commands him to consume food that his religion considers “unclean.” Peter is reminded that it’s God who gets to declare what is clean and may even contradict the law : This passage shows that God’s promises and beloved community are not defined by our own rules or boundaries, or even by our understanding of God’s law. God is constantly drawing us to love our neighbors

Acts 8:26-39 - Apostle Baptizes Eunuch into the Church : The early Church welcomed queer people. When will the modern Church allow queer people to fully participate?

Acts 10:15 - What God Hath Cleansed, that Call not thou Common : People who were traditionally excluded are welcome

Acts 10:34 - Peter declared “God shows no partiality”

Acts 17:28 - God has a Womb : Do we use the image of God to see the Divine in all of us or do we use God to diminish others?

Romans 1:20 - To Know God, Look at the Things God Created : What does the diversity of different sexual orientations & gender identities tell us about God?

Romans 1:26-27 - Vile Affections : People use this against gays, but it’s really directed at straight people

Romans 8:38-39 - Nothing Separates us from God’s Love : Nothing can separate us from the love of God. Not church leaders, not metaphorical muskets, not the church

Romans 10:12 - There is no distinction between Jew & Greek, the same Lord is the Lord of all, bestowing riches on all who call on Him

Romans 13:10 - Love Does no Wrong to Others : If church is causing harm, then it is not doing the work of Christ and God

1 Corinthians 1:27-28 - God Chose the Lowly Things of this World : Things look different from the margins than they do from the center

1 Corinthians 3:16 - You are the temple of God : The actual temple is our bodies and it's beautiful the way transgender people get to co-create with God in building their temple

1 Corinthians 4:3-4 - We’re often told not to judge others and not to let others judge us, but it’s easy to forget we shouldn’t shouldn’t judge ourselves. Work hard, do your best, and let yourself be forgiven. When we repent, the Lord forgives and forgets all of our transgressions so we should allow ourselves the same peace of mind. Stop beating yourself up, It’s okay, let it go

1 Corinthians 6:9-10 - The Unrighteous Shall Not Inherit the Kingdom of God : No one believes Paul is condemning sex between heterosexual couples as unrighteous, we shouldn’t assume He’s condemning relationships between people of the same gender

1 Corinthians 7 - We Shouldn’t Force Ourselves to be Celibate if We have Sexual Desires, Instead We Should Channel our Sexual Appetites within Marriage : A great argument for Christians to accept & celebrate gay marriages

1 Corinthians 12:12-13 - All the Members are One Body : The church needs its LGBTQ+ members, without us the body of the church is incomplete

1 Corinthians 14:10-13 - So Many Kinds of Voices in the World : It takes every voice for the choir to sound beautiful, no one is without significance

1 Corinthians 15:41 - Glory of the Sun, Moon and Stars : The sun, moon and stars all appear in the same sky. Could this mean we’ll all be together?

Galatians 2:1-5 - Gentiles are not Required to become Jews : Gentiles are accepted as they are and not forced to lose their identity by becoming Jews. Likewise queer people should be accepted as we are and not required to live as cisgender straight people

Galatians 3:28 - Ye Are All One in Christ Jesus : The scriptures say that all our diversity is welcome by Christ

Galatians 5:22-23 - There is No Law Against Love : The law doesn’t distinguish between gay and straight love

Ephesians 5:22-33 - A marriage between a man and a wife is used to symbolize Christ’s relationship with the church : If the church is made up of its members, we are the bride of Christ, we are in a marriage relationship with Christ. Which is an interesting concept for cis hetero men, they’re in a same-sex marriage with Jesus

Colossians 3:9-11 - There is not Greek & Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, slave & free, we’re all one in Christ : We can continue this metaphor to say there is not difference between cis & trans, or gay and straight, you’re all one in Christ

1 Timothy 1:8-10 - Whoremongers...Them that Defile Themselves with Mankind...Menstealers : Condemnation of men who use boy prostitutes, and the slave dealers who procured the young boys and sold them into prostitution, in other words a condemnation of pedophiles, not as some claim of all homosexuals

1 Timothy 3:2 - Husbands of One Wife : Paul is not trying to address questions about sexual orientation or gay marriage in this verse

2 Timothy 3:1-3 - Without natural affection : Hateful, shaming, rejecting behavior by a parent to a queer child certainly sounds like the opposite of “natural affection” and was prophesied in the New Testament

1 Timothy 4:1-5 - Forbidding to marry : This is about people in the congregation leaving the faith because of what’s taught at the pulpit, teachings which happen to not be in line with God’s will . If you're against people of consenting age getting married, it seems like this is a test to show who's on the wrong side.

James 1:27 - Religion that is pure and undefiled before God the Father is to care for orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself unstained by the world : Pure religion is not about hiding away in an ivory tower and discussing eternal truths--it's about being out in the world and living those truths by caring for people. We can come closest to Christ not by studying and memorizing His words but by loving the way He loved "that when he shall appear we shall be like him" (Moroni 7:48).

1 Peter 2:2-10 - We taste that God is good and is nourishing, we are built as living stones that build a spiritiual house. Our bodies are important and its desires and needs are important, but too often queer people are told not to trust their body and to subdue it because it's against God. People who don't accept you for being queer, they turn you into a stumbling block and deny the glory of God in you, and we build that rejection into a cornerstone we build to a monument of faith that is full and life giving.

1 John 4:7-8 - He that Loveth not, Knoweth not God; for God is Love : Any genuine love comes from God. Unfortunately, Christians have created many laws against love

1 John 4:20 - If you hate others then you don’t love God : Quote this verse to any Christian who is yelling scriptures at you for being queer

Jude 1:7 - Going after Strange Flesh : Some use this to condemn homosexuality, but what would be the word for a married person going after “strange flesh,” aka “another flesh”? Adultery!

Revelation 4:1-4 - There’s a Rainbow Around the Throne of God : Confirmation that queer people make it to heaven

1 Nephi 2:2 - God tells Lehi to leave the land given to his ancestors, leave behind the temple, leave behind extended family, and go on a new path : Many queer people also get this message, to leave behind the church, the temple, and the community which are hurting them

1 Nephi 4:6-19 - Nephi Kills Laban : What does it tell us about God that He is chill with murder but not two men or two women in love? Maybe it’s the believers that are mixing up what is okay and what is not

1 Nephi 8 - When Lehi tastes the fruit of the tree, which symbolizes the pure love of Christ, he wants his family to experience it with him : God’s love isn’t meant to be experienced alone

1 Nephi 16:2 - the guilty take the truth to be hard, for it cutteth them to the very center : The truth about how church hurts queer people can be hard for believers to hear

1 Nephi 16:10, 26-29 - Liahona : They had the Brass Plates, but that wasn’t enough.

2 Nephi 2:25 - Adam Fell that Men Might Be; and Men are that They Might have Joy : A Harvard study found relationships are key to happiness, also helpful are good coping skills and giving back to the community. This is how to have joy

2 Nephi 26:33 - All are Alike Unto God : When will the Church embrace all people?

2 Nephi 31:20 - Love of all men : those who try to make sure they don’t love us too much so that it’s clear they don’t condone all our choices, they are breaking the commandments.

Jacob 5 - Allegory of the Olive Tree : Fruitful trees start producing bad fruit and wild olive branches are grafted in : It’s interesting that good fruit comes from margins of the vineyard, which is not the expected place. The Lord operates in places those in the center don’t even know about

Omni - Two Queer Authors? : This book is written by 5 different men, 2 of them have no sons to whom they could hand it down. Could that be it's because they’re queer?

Mosiah 3:19 - Putteth off the natural man : It’s natural to feel uncomfortable around people who are different from you. Try putting off your natural reaction and learn to see as God does.

Mosiah 9 - Zeniff sees beyond the biased teachings : It’s hard to hate people up close

Alma 7:11-12 - That He May Know How to Succor his People : The atonement lets Jesus know how to help us

Alma 16:16 - no inequality associated with preparation for Christ's return : within the church do we have inequality? For women? LGBTQ? Non-English speakers? Non Americans?

Alma 17:24-25 - Ammon & King Lamoni : They love each other

Alma 19 - Abish : Abish was closeted, God used her to upend social norms

Alma 32:9-10 - What Shall We Do? For We are Cast Out of Our Synagogues : Queer people can worship God whether we’re allowed at church or the temple

Alma 34:34 - We’re still queer when we’re resurrected

Alma 37:6 - Who are the small and simple? : Queer people who were considered small and simple were the ones strong enough to break the rules of masculinity and femininity which made it safe for the strong and powerful to come out as queer

Alma 41:10 : Wickedness never was happiness : What makes you joyful is not wicked

Alma 53:2 - Captain Moroni and General Lehi : Could Moroni and Lehi love each other as more than just as friends and soldiers, but as family?

Alma 56:16-17 - Helaman and the 2000 young warriors show up and boost the soldiers’ morale : I can easily imagine feeling beat up and defeated by the nonsense of church folk, and then the arrival of a few more queer people would lift me up and feel like those who be with us are brave and fabulous and what we have is worth defending and affirming.

Alma 60:5-10 - Captain Moroni’s opening words could be a cry of marginalized people and a damning indictment of complicity or participation in their oppression

Ether 6 - Jaredite Barges are Driven by the Winds to the Promised Land : All 8 barges made it to the Promised Land and each made a separate journey

Ether 12:4 - Hope for a Better World : What would a better world look like? A place where we’re all treated alike and allowed personal dignity

Ether 12:27 - I Make Weak Things Become Strong Unto Them : To become strong, people must acquire a positive self image

3 Nephi 28 - The 3 Nephites : Could they be queer? It’s a possibility

Doctrine and Covenants 1 - Purpose of revelations to Joseph Smith : How is the church doing in these purposes in regards to queer people?

Doctrine and Covenants 38:25-27 - If Ye are not One Ye are not mine : Bad news for the homophobes, transphobes, and all those who oppose their queer siblings

Doctrine and Covenants 46:3-6 - Don’t Cast People out of Church Meetings : Don’t cast out queer people but instead provide a place that is safe, welcoming and inclusive

Doctrine and Covenants 49:15-17 - Whoso Forbiddeth to Marry is not ordained of God : This is a rejection of requiring life-long celibacy and affirms that getting married is approved by the Lord

Doctrine and Covenants 74 - Sometimes apostles teach their own opinions as commandments : Sometimes apostles actually are teaching things opposite of the Lord’s will

Doctrine and Covenants 78:5-6 - If Ye are not Equal in Earthly Things Ye cannot be Equal in Obtaining Heavenly Things : We could seal gay couples today if we wanted to, that would help make things equal on earth.

Doctrine and Covenants 93:33-34 - Fulness of Joy Contingent on Connectedness of Spirit & Body : Transitioning can be part of a person’s journey towards godliness

Doctrine and Covenants 121:41 - Priesthood doesn’t give Authority and Power over Others : It’s how you treat others

Doctrine and Covenants 128:18 - We cannot be pro-family and anti-LGBTQ+ at same time : Everyone talking about being exalted without their LGBTQ+ family members WON’T BE. If same-gender couples and trans people aren’t exalted, NO ONE will be.

Doctrine and Covenants 130:2 - And that Same Sociality which Exists among Us Here will Exist among Us in Eternity : Love will prevail

Doctrine and Covenants 131 - Eternal Life : Nothing in this section excludes queer people from obtaining Eternal Life

Doctrine and Covenants 132 - New and Everlasting Covenant : There’s no reason to think queer relationships were meant to be excluded from being sealed

Doctrine and Covenants 137:7-9 - We will be Judged According the Desires of our Heart : Queer people will not be judged for not completing opportunities not open to us

Moses 6:31 - Enoch doesn’t See Himself as God Does : When queer people accept ourselves it opens 1000 doors of possibility

Moses 7:28-40 - What makes God weep? : God weeps when we don’t have love for one another

Joseph Smith--History - God can be found outside church

Articles of Faith 2 - Adam’s Transgression : Elder Oaks classifies gay marriage as a transgression, not a sin. What are the implications of that?

Articles of Faith 8 - Scriptures only as Good as the Translation and Interpretation : Has the Church & Christianity been interpreting scriptures using fear, ignorance, and personal bias in a way that’s harmful to queer people?

Articles of Faith 9 : God Will Yet Reveal Many Great and Important Things for LGBTQ People

Articles of Faith 13 - Doing Good to All Men : Harming queer people and denying them the promises & blessings made to others is the opposite of what this church claims to believe

Proclamation on the Family - It doesn’t say what most people assume it does. Queer people aren’t discussed at all in this document

Criteria by which Christ will Evaluate our Lives

#queer scriptures #queer faith #queerstake

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creepypastabilities · 7 days ago

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There is still love.

Pairing— Brian Thomas x Tim Wright (Marble Hornets.)

There are rules, even for the mask.

Brian made them— quietly, carefully, like carving scripture into his own ribs.

Rule one: Don’t go near Tim.

Not when the mask is on. Not when the Hoodie persona takes over and the world blurs into red directives and static-soaked purpose.

Because Hoodie is ruthless. Calculating. Efficient.

And Tim—Tim is none of those things.

Tim is sharp, yes, but in a different way.

Not a weapon, but a mirror—reflecting all the things Brian never meant to become.

So Hoodie stays away. Brian makes sure of it.

He can follow the Operator’s trail through fire and forest and rot, can break bones without blinking and gut men like they’re made of paper—but when he catches a glimpse of Tim?

When he sees that tired, steady kind of bravery in his eyes?

Something in Brian stops.

Something remembers.

He used to think distance was the safest option.

That keeping the mask on meant Tim would never have to see what Brian had become.

That he could protect him best by vanishing—by being the ghost in the trees, the flicker in the static.

But then there are nights where Tim gets hurt.

Not bad enough to die, just bad enough to make Brian’s hands shake.

A twisted ankle. A broken rib. Blood where there shouldn’t be.

That’s when Hoodie slips in—silent as a knife, all shadow and tension—and crouches beside him. No words. Just presence. Just that raw, furious need to protect.

Tim doesn’t flinch anymore.

He just looks up at the mask, breathing heavy, and whispers, “Brian?”

And Brian—god, Brian—his whole chest folds in on itself because yes. Yes, it’s still him under there.

Even now. Even after everything.

He doesn’t say much. Hoodie doesn’t talk.

But he wraps an arm around Tim, careful of the bruises. Presses gauze to the wound. Leaves painkillers and water before disappearing again like smoke curling from the edges of a burnt page.

And Tim lets him. Always has. Because somewhere in the split between who Brian used to be and who Hoodie had to become, there’s still love.

Something ancient and aching and true.

A kind of vow whispered behind the mask:

I won’t hurt you. Not ever. Even if I have to become something monstrous to keep you safe.

#marble hornets #tim wright #brian thomas #mh brian thomas #mh tim wright #brian thomas marble hornets #brim mh #mh brim #mod.colby

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anemoi-i · 1 year ago

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Venti’s Presence in Mondstadt and in Lore: A Comprehensive List

Barbatos is an Archon that does everything in secret and wants virtually no recognition for it. Desiring not to become like Decarabian, he "disappeared" so Mondstadt could be free and without a ruler, yet he has still done what he could to retain Mondstadt's peace. Here is a comprehensive list of everything of note that he has done.

Disclaimer: I may miss details. Some things such as character voice lines about Venti, save for Xiao’s are largely omitted. All sources are present.

I. Wind Gliders

“The ability of wind gliders to glide is reliant first and foremost on the Blessing of the Anemo Archon. Of course, it’s also been intertwined with human engineering.”

Wings of Companionship

II. But I do not intend to make my readers think that we could do without archons. On the contrary, say, if Barbatos had not guided the warm monsoons to Mondstadt with his divine powers, would Mondstadt still be so bountiful as to produce the brews that it does?

The answer would be no. Mondstadt is an inland city and would have struggled to provide for itself if not for the grace of Barbatos. If we look back through history, we learn that Mondstadt is situated on a land that was once frozen, where the living conditions were harsh and brewing would be virtually impossible. It was the power of Barbatos that changed everything.

Along With Divinity: Prologue

III. The songs that had once flown joyfully in the wind were drowned by a venomous dragon [Durin]. In the wake of its earth-shaking footsteps, even the cries and the flames were ripped asunder. The Anemo Archon heard their agony, though he had refused to rule. But to protect his old friends' dream, and defend the wind-kissed fields of green,He woke from his long slumber anew, and with the sky dragon [Dvalin] in battle he flew...

Elegy For The End

IV. In ancient times, Barbatos softly strummed his lyre and summoned the pure thousand winds and songs. Charmed by the free-spirited winds and songs, Dvalin the high dragon descended and swore loyalty to him. Barbatos rejoiced in making a new friend, and entrusted the people of Mondstadt to Dvalin. And so, the wandering Anemo Archon and the Wind Dragon forged Mondstadt's dawn with their relationship.

Skyward Harp

V. On the cliff facing the eastern sea, the ancestors worshipped the masters of Time and Anemo together. The two are intimately related, as expressed in the saying, "Anemo brings stories while Time nurtures them." This bow tells the story of the pioneers and the hardships they went through.

Sacrificial Bow

VI. When Mondstadt was born anew, and the Church finally unshackled, the scriptures of the winds could bear no longer being confined to a shelf, and so the book took flight, left the Church's treasury and was gone. Like the winds of Mondstadt, and like the people of Mondstadt, it belonged to freedom and the winds. The elegant handwriting on the title page reads:

Children of the Anemo Archon, heed these words:

From the winds we have come, and with the winds we shall go.

Never, ever grieve for me.

'Tis but my flesh and bones which rest in the soil:

My soul has become one with the thousand winds.

When flowers bloom, when leaves sway,

That is me who sings the songs of freedom, of the winds.

Lost Prayer to the Sacred Winds: Scriptures of the ancient winds, passed from generation to generation among the observers of ritual in service of the Anemo Archon.

VII. The Skyward Atlas consists of 100,000 odes to a single cloud or wind and calling it by name. The cloud atlas gave form to the winds, and odes infused them with personality. The myriad formless winds are now friends and family in the eyes of Barbatos. Legends tell that in ancient times, Barbatos summoned the four winds with the original version. He thawed the snow, drove away vicious beasts, summoned rainfall, and created Mondstadt.He permitted the atlas to be shared and copied among the people, giving it the name of Cloud Atlas.

Skyward Atlas

VIII. In the days of the ruling aristocracy, the Church that revered the Anemo Archon was once split in twain by a schism: On one side stood the clergy, who ate at the lords' table, and overturned the archon's statues with them even as they wrote songs and hymns of praise. On the other stood the saints, who held no clerical office, and who walked the streets, the wine cellars, and the world beyond the walls. These saints drank cheap moonshine, blessing the slave and the plebeian with the original holy manuscripts that circulated amongst the people and with words that the wind brought to them.

And while they did so, they penned forbidden songs and poetry.

When the gladiator from a foreign land [Vennessa] arose together with the re-awakened Anemo Archon and raised the banner of rebellion, the aged saint known as the Nameless Shepherd mobilized the true adherents of the Church of Favonius.

Song of Broken Pines

IX. When he opened his eyes, he was in the sky above a mountain swept by roaring snowstorms, the green, tranquil land had already been painted crimson by fire and blood,and the song of that sky-blue bard's lyre was almost drowned in the howling tumult,and that bejeweled, lovely dragon, like a tender lover, had now pierced his neck through with its sharp fangs.

"Farewell, Mother! My journey is ended. I shall sleep beneath this white, shining silver... and perhaps this, too, is good. Farewell, O lovely bard! And farewell, O lovely dragon! Would that we had met in a different time and place, to meet, to sing and dance together!"

So he thought most sincerely as he lay dying.

Durin (Dragonspine Spear)

X. They say that a region's character follows that of its archon, and that this holds true both for the people and the land itself, but was it the unfettered archon who bestowed a love of freedom and wine upon the land and people amidst conflict? Or was it the people who nurtured the Anemo Archon's love of freedom as they pined for it amid the howling wind and frost?

This is a question that can no longer be answered.

Freedom Sworn

XI. Twenty-six hundred years ago was the era of Mondstadt's most ancient inhabitants. They swore a solemn oath, after the new Anemo Archon descended and reformed the world:

"For Mondstadt, as always. For the verdant plains, for the hills, and for the forests of Mondstadt. May they continue to flourish, as always."

"For Mondstadt, as always. For the everlasting freedom of Mondstadt from the blizzard and the tyrant, whose coldness and oppression are one and the same."

Royal Longsword (Refers to Gunnhildr Clan & the oath to protect Mondstadt.)

XII. Ludi Harpastum

Ludi Harpastum was established in commemoration of how Barbatos, the Anemo Archon, taught his people to brew wine and live freely. It was a festival meant for all people to enjoy. However, by the time of Vennessa's rebellion a thousand years before Genshin Impact's main story, Barbatos had long departed to avoid becoming a tyrant like his predecessor, while the aristocracy that ruled Mondstadt grew corrupt and abused their power.

The event turned into a mockery of what it originally was. It became an event enjoyed only by the wealthy elites. The head of the Lawrence Clan, the foremost clan among the aristocracy, cared not for the enjoyment of the people and canceled all the games, leaving only the climax of the harpastum. However, only Lord Lawrence's son, Barca Lawrence, had the right to touch that harpastum. Anyone else who dared even approach the ball would immediately face torture. Furthermore, Barca was also given the rights to take the maiden who will throw the harpastum home.

Barbatos awakens during the climax of the Ludi Harpastum in the manga and seizes the Harpastum.

Genshin Impact Manga

XIII. The Letter in the Chasm

Not as if I were to be outfitted as that guardian of Khaenri’ah,

Not as if my destructive self were made to be the lyre of Barbatos,

Not as if I were meant to soar like a Pegasus,

Not if I were the swift, snow-white pair of Morphes,

Add these to the feather-footed and the winged,

And likewise, call for the swiftness of the winds,

And though you should harness these, friend, and offer them to me,

Yet I should be tired to the bone, and worn away by frequent faintness,

My friend, while I would search for you,

The heavens fall to pieces,

And falsehoods collapse.

Mysterious Letter obtainable after completing The Chasm related Archon Quest(s) & World Quests (Information gathered by CatWithBlueHat)

It is important to note that each player who finished these quests only received one line of this letter in Abyssal Language, indicating this is a bigger part of something and made to be very secretive and hard to decipher if not for the efforts of players to translate it.

XIV. The Hexenzirkel

“Once upon a time, it even challenged the Anemo Archon himself, but he replied: “Let us make music, not war, and resolve our conflicts through song.”

Alice, The Mage’s Tea Party (Windblume’s Breath)

XV. Waterborne Poetry

“A soft breeze beckoned me unto a spring. “Sleep, weary wanderer. Your journey is over. May the dancing petals sweeten your slumber.”

Callirhoe, who recalled her journey to Springvale (Waterborne Poetry event)

XVI. Presence as a significant figure to Xiao

He longs for a day to come when he will wear the mask and dance — not to conquer demons, but to the tune of that flute amid a sea of flowers.

Barbatos appears as a cameo in Yakshas: The Guardian Adepti, playing the Dihua Flute. It suggests his music is powerful enough to suppress Xiao’s Karmic Debt. He also has a line for Barbatos indicaing he knows who he is, but cuts himself off.

Yakshas: The Guardian Adepti & Xiao: Mask (Namecard)

Other things to note:

As of Version 4.3 Mondstadt is the only nation that does not suffer from any “filth” that needs to be purged either by a Sacred Tree or otherwise. The battle that took place 500 years ago with Durin did not affect the nation in any way, instead, Durin died on Dragonspine which was already affected by the Skyfrost Nail and is an inhabited land that only Adventurers see as an area to explore. No one lives there. Even with the presence of his “heart”/”core” still beating, it would forever lie in the frozen wasteland unless someone were to deliberately disrupt it.

There are no storms in Mondstadt. Vind, one of the Sisters/Storm Watchers, says that she hopes she never has to do her job.

A large amount of npc’s around Mondstadt, especially in the area of the Anemo Archon statue, revere Barbatos and speak highly of him

It is important to note that during the second rebellion, Barbatos also forged Rex Lapis’ signature to dismantle the Aristocracy, indicating he would go to such lengths to establish freedom for the nation.

Barbatos’ voiceline about Albedo suggests that he knows close to “everything” about him, especially about his fear of “destroying Mondstadt.”

In addition to the above, Barbatos contradicts himself: “Ah, never mind! What goes on within Mondstadt's walls is up to Mondstadt's people to deal with!” Except that twice when the people cried out for help, he awoke to help them and has actively been helping Mondstadt with no recognition. From liberating Mondstadt to helping an Oceanid, this line will not hold any weight in any argument that suggests that Barbatos does nothing for Mondstadt.

Barbatos was already attempting to purge the Abyssal corruption from Dvalin prior to the Traveler’s appearance.

There is irony in Diluc and Jean finding out Barbatos’ true identity considering both the Ragnvindr’s and the Gunnhildr’s were primary protectors of Mondstadt.

The Skyward Atlas suggests Barbatos was originally a catalyst user while Amos’ Bow suggests he changed his weapon to a bow to honor Amos’ memory. He uses Der Frühling (E Skill) in a way a catalyst user might.

His appearance as his dear friend, the Nameless Bard is to honor his memory for the skies, bright sun and birds he could never see. To honor the songs he could no longer play.

#genshin impact #genshin impact lore #venti #krisposting #txt

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