@chriist has followed you
“ Am I DEAD? “

seen from Uzbekistan

seen from Malaysia
seen from Russia
seen from United Kingdom
seen from China
seen from United States

seen from Croatia

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia
seen from Malaysia
seen from China
seen from China
seen from China

seen from United States

seen from Malaysia
seen from China
seen from Malaysia
seen from Canada

seen from Brunei
@chriist has followed you
“ Am I DEAD? “
it’s a good Sunday when your Savior follows you back
@chriist
me: follows jesus jesus: follows back luci: ...i hate everything
fuck , Jesus is following me . okay Bonnie , get your shit together . can’t completely disappoint the supreme commander
@chriist
“Look at you. Look how tall you’ve gotten! You could have visited earlier. I don’t even get a call from you and then you show up with twelve strange men and a girl—she’s lovely, lamb, by the way—asking for lodging like it hasn’t been thousands of years. Of course, I’ll give it to you, but honestly. A text? You’ve got the whole downstairs in a tizzy. No miracles, lamb, promise me. I don’t need them more fussed, they’ll wreck the place again.”
Anti-me and Anti-you || Yeshua
Hellhound didn’t usually play in clubs, not for snobby reasons, just that they ended up overcrowding a club, and the establishments got cranky. But for a place as big as this, they were comfortable enough to play and still have room. Ciar liked it, liked the packed feel of sweaty bodies all dancing and singing in unison to their songs, the pulsing of the guitar and drums that seemed to replace his heartbeat, the tight, vibrating strings replaced nerves.
He was alive onstage, in a way he wasn’t off. It didn’t matter who they played for, Ciar loved it, and his band loved it. It was easy to lose himself in the songs and the feedback from the crowd.
Usually. Tonight was different. He felt it the second Yeshua entered the club. A piercing behind his eyes that almost made him tumble off the stage. Ciar clutched the mikestand, losing his place in the chorus, frantically looking out for him.
Him. The one Ciar feared and was curious about, above all angels and demons and gods. The anointed one. Ciar’s bitter enemy, though they’d never met. He swallowed and cleared his throat, he found his place again, making it seem as if he just wanted to hear the crowd sing. Pale eyes still searched the semi-dark club for him.
@chriist
has anyone made a merthur video with destiny calling - melody club?? 👀⁉