seen from United Kingdom
seen from Malaysia
seen from China
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from Algeria
seen from China
seen from Norway
seen from China
seen from Norway
seen from Bulgaria
seen from Germany
seen from China
seen from Germany
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from Maldives
seen from Bulgaria
seen from Poland
seen from Denmark
. && dixxmeliora
“Shit --” Escaped the hunter’s mouth as he ended up behind a church. Okay, so messing with dogs that looked like they couldn’t jump their fence was a bad idea -- he doesn’t recommend. However, he looks down and realizes that he landed in a nicely put together garden. “Awh, shit.” Just his luck, right?
dixxmeliora / liked this.
“ u-um . . . just for curiosity’s sake . . . you wouldn’t know how to perform an EXORCISM o-or anything ?? i’m just uh . . . asking for a ------ for a friend. “ aka incubus luis doesn’t wanna die.
dixxmeliora !
"You know what they say -- when the going gets tough, the tough take their shirts off!” No one said that, and the only tough thing that happened to him today was he cut his tongue on a soda can. But he sure was taking his shirt off.
| dixxmeliora |
A palette of soft greens and pinks that quietly dominate additional colors upon the canvas. Demián stands before it with his delicate hands gently clasped together, gazing with his head tilted a fraction-- gazing at his own painting.
“The artist uses too many flowers, does he not?”
It is a musing that gingerly unfurls from his lips without diverting his stare from the canvas.
Forgive Me, Father
dixxmeliora
Eyelashes fluttered as soft flakes of freshly falling snow fell down from the sky, kissing Blade’s face with cold pecks. Winter days were peaceful, and after a long case, standing in the pure white snow almost made him feel clean again as if he hadn’t done the terrible, inhuman, and monstrous things that had soaked his hands with blood and his heart with bitter emotions.
The crunch of the snow under his feet was far a far better sound than the metallic rattle of bullets--a far more welcome sound than screams.
England was beautiful in the winter, especially their chapels. While many were Anglican, there were still many Catholic places of worship with acting priests. One particular church had always felt more comfortable to Blade, and whenever he and his partner had had a case in the vicinity, he begged Sheath to make a stop. There was just something about this place, this church, and mostly, this priest that struck Blade as important somehow. He couldn’t place the reason, but whenever he stopped to do his sacramental duty and put some distance between himself and his crimes against humanity, he felt better.
Tapping the pocket of his jeans where he’d placed his rosary, Blade walked through the familiar doors and towards the confessional booths, slipping inside the darkened space, making the sign of the cross and beginning, “In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. Forgive me, father, for I have sinned. It has been three months since my last confession.”
&&. dixxmeliora
The boy had been running away from some unwanted attention when he smacked right into a wall. Wait, no-- a person. Bowing his head he was already apologizing repeatedly until he looked up to see someone awfully familiar. “Oh-- it’s you.”
:{ ♪ }: Religion was not something that Molly spent much of her time on--she craved more earthly desires--what she could see and touch before her. Sometimes, though, she liked to listen to the sermons, and Michael had spoken so highly of this church’s organ--she just had to come listen.
It was so impressive she didn’t find the will to leave the church until everyone else was out. The exquisite tones of the wonderful church music rattled throughout her ears. What a beautiful place... if only it wasn’t being used, then she could live here.
