87 Bible Verses about Oneness

Want to know what the Bible says about Oneness? Here are 87 Bible verses about Oneness from the Old and New Testaments of the Holy Bible, New International Version (NIV), sorted from the most relevant to the least relevant. 1 Corinthians 12:13 NIV For we were all baptized by one Spirit so as to form one body—whether Jews or Gentiles, slave or free —and we were all given the one Spirit to…

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Did i make another vampire OC? Yessss, yes i did 🩸✨

Siblings

Indri, the Witch of Wind and Stars and Mirara, the Witch of the Waning Moon

so ready for @worldsbeyondpod to give me psychic damage next week

A witch nabbing! Crowley’s Coven are on the loose!

Canon divergent Sakura.

Callbacks to older episodes

“i’m holding my breath for you”

lyrics from swimming pool by the front bottoms

Hacaea, Witch of the Woodland Green 🌿🐍

A castle mysteriously appears in Gotham one night.

Nobody who noticed it knows where it came from, nor how it got there as it seemingly appeared overnight. It wasn't anything big, as far as castle's were concerned, it seemed to be on the smaller side of things.

However, no one could truly estimate it's actual size. For there seemed to be an ever-present fog that never seemed to stray past the castle's gates.

Just like the fog, you always seemed to hear the cawing of crows and the flapping of bats whenever you step close enough. Yet their visibility was kept hidden in the fog.

Appearances aside, there did seem to be something... off, about the castle and not just because it appeared from thin air, no. It seemed to have a distinct aura of something... other.

No one knew how to explain it, but they could tell there was nothing natural about it. There was something fundamentally wrong with the castle, it wasn't the way it appeared out of nowhere, nor it's appearance.

===

When Sam finally became an adult, she didn't have to think twice about moving out. It was a bit difficult, with her parents not wanting to let her go just yet, but her grandmother managed to persuade them, thankfully.

When she was younger, Sam had always dreamed of owning a castle. Though its appearance did change in her mind when she grew older, from pretty and pink to one of darker colors and crows, which is why she never got one when she was younger, she realized.

But now that she was an adult, what was stopping her?

Nothing, that's what.

So, Sam buys one that matches her tastes and moves in. There was a lot of space, far more than she really ever thought about and now had to find a use for.

Magic.

Was something that enthralled Sam ever since she was young, that and the occult as a whole. So, for a few months after moving did she try and get her hands on things like magical tomes, items, scripts and learn it.

Surprisingly, she was strongly successful in her attempts of learning magic. It was surprising to be sure, but now that she compares it to the portal to the afterlife, having a half dead friend and having hunted down ghosts, she realizes that magic wouldn't be that much farfetched in the equation.

A fair bit of her time now was spent covering her castle in wards, sigils, and runes, ones that would strengthen themselves over time, various protection wards and multiple others that she found useful. Most of them were ones that she found through text, though others were ones she personally made.

After she finished the entirety of the castle, she studied thoroughly to gain more knowledge and power for herself, she even made a few spells of her own along with various potions. Unfortunately, she was interrupted in her studies by various other witches, because apparently having such a powerful fledgling witch on her lonesome was too tempting of an offer to pass up for the nearby covens.

So she had to... move, before they tried to force her to join them. As for how, well, she moved her entire castle! What better way to refuse, really?

Unfortunately, it was her first time using such large-scale teleportation magic and she messed it up. Not that her calculations on where the castle was supposed to be were wrong, but while in the midst of moving through space she was... thrown off kilter.

She didn't even know how or what caused her to mess up. But her castle both was and wasn't where she wanted it to be. Her original destination was coordinates near Amity Park, and while they were on said coordinates.

This wasn't Amity Park.

To say she worried was an understatement. She scrambled to find something about where she ended up, and realized not only was she thrown off kilter, but she was also thrown off so badly that she ended up in an entirely different dimension. Luckily, she managed to make the philosopher's stone.

To say making it was easy would be wrong, for even she didn't know how she created it. It was by accident and for a while she didn't even know she had made it, when she had and tried to do something with it the stone had, uh, well.

It fused into her skin.

It had placed itself right over her face, on her chest, and it granted her immortality it seemed. Though that wasn't the effect she was currently thankful for no, the effect of making gold would be valuable to her, she wouldn't have the Manson wealth, but she could at the very least sustain herself.

For now, though, she did have her studies to get back to.

Louis and Claudia are not just identifiable as American by way of their speech (“American? Your French is ugly.”) and movement (“You could tell from his walk, he was an American.”), but are posited by the narrative to be symbolic representations of postwar America itself (“The American vampires appeared to be as dull and plain as their tourists and soldiers were.”, “Do American vampiresses all wear pastels?”, “And are all American vampires as alluring as you?”). The pair set themselves up in France as “moneyed Americans”, described by Armand as having a “velvet-heeled arrival” despite the pair coming to the city on the back of a truck. That Paris has been left by the war with deep physical and societal wounds is treated as an inconvenience that they have to impatiently endure. Santiago picks at these stitches during the performative execution of the pointedly foreign Annika, invoking the paranoia of occupation with his line “[...] the next time you're in the pew, you turn to your neighbour and say, ‘Peace be unto you.’ They'll give you up... in a wink!”. It is telling that the only explanation Armand gives for his choice of victims to the coven is that they are profiteering from the suffering of postwar France (“Whilst their countrymen clutch ration cards, they've made quite a killing manipulating the black markets.”), a statement which seems to deepen their appetite for the ensuing slaughter. These are not resentments and histories however shared by Claudia, who may revel in the massacre but has already knowingly associated with a woman branded as a collaborator, or Louis, whose attempts to engage with the world through photography only further positions him as an outsider. This detachment is what causes Louis and Claudia to be regarded as interlopers, suspected to believe themselves to be too important to heed traditions, manners (“It's custom and practice for traveling vampires to make themselves known”) or the welfare of their temporary home (“We were constantly cleaning up for them.”). Though American soldiers played a role in the later stages of the liberation of Paris, the increasing presence of Americans in the city is framed as another more insidious occupation (“[...] our Anglican friends now invading Paris postwar”, “My dear American friend [...] who has dominated my mind”). As Americans, Louis and Claudia are granted more privileges in society than other black ethnics groups (“But I wasn't an Algerian. I was an American”). It is not just that the French theatre troupe composed of multinational actors now has “five out of every seven” of their performances in English, but the coven has been instructed by Armand to remake itself as “an English company” and speak the language offstage too. Armand’s welcoming attitude to increasing American influence in the city, how it creates a “more receptive” and “optimistic” audience, is not a simple or universal one. There is a distinct bitterness belying the fanfare accompanying Louis and Claudia’s arrival, particularly from Santiago (“I ask you, Maitre, was it worth the wait?”), but it is also notably still present in Armand’s lighthearted teasing (“Seventy-seven years and it still feels like a slight.”, “Five months removed [...] the Americans were finally coming to Pigalle.”). At least during these early months, Louis and Claudia seem to view Paris more as a static backdrop against which they can discover themselves and heal their relationship. This is a mistake that they will likely only realise when it is already too late, for this fragile and volatile setting is entwined with the tragedy that awaits them.

if smeyer wasn't a coward vamp!Bella would have immediately eaten her daughter Rensesmem whole-hog like Saturn Devouring His Son

hi!! can you do volturi x secretary!reader (platonic) who's just TOO GOOD AT HER JOB. she spells carlisle correctly, she doesn't interrupt, and she's like really professional. ALSO YOU FOLLOWED ME BACK LIKE I WAS SO SURRPISRD THANK YOU HAVE A GOOD DAYYAYAYYA

❝she’s just too damn good❞

✭ pairing : volturi x reader

✭ fandom : twilight

✭ summary : (Y/n) is the best damn secretary the volturi could ask for

✭ authors note : aww of course I’d follow you back :)

✭ twilight masterlist

The grand entrance hall of Volterra, Italy, echoed with the weight of centuries-old secrets and power. It was within these ancient stone walls that the Volturi, the ruling vampire coven, held their dominion. Aro, Caius, and Marcus, the three elder vampires who led the coven, sat upon their thrones, their crimson eyes filled with an ageless wisdom.

Their previous secretary had met an unfortunate end, her fate sealed by a single, costly mistake. Now, it was time to find a new secretary, one who could handle the delicate matters that crossed the Volturi's path.

(Y/n), a human with a reputation for competence and diligence, stood before the Volturi leaders. She pushed her glasses up on her face, the light catching the lenses and reflecting an intense determination in her gaze. She had no intention of failing in this prestigious role.

Aro, the most talkative of the trio, addressed her with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I trust you won't follow in our previous secretary's footsteps. Her errors cost her dearly."

(Y/n) met Aro's gaze with unwavering confidence. "No need for the warning, sir. I take my work very seriously. I'm here to ensure that every detail is meticulously attended to."

Caius observed her with a critical eye, his expression stern. "You are aware that our affairs are highly confidential, and discretion is of the utmost importance?"

(Y/n) nodded, her resolve unshaken. "Absolutely, sir. My lips are sealed, and I understand the consequences of breaching that trust."

Marcus, the most reserved of the three, merely regarded her with a measured gaze. "We shall see if your actions align with your words."

(Y/n) straightened her posture, ready to take on her new responsibilities. "You won't be disappointed, gentlemen."

With that, she accepted the role of secretary for the Volturi, stepping into a world of secrecy, power, and ancient vampires. As she walked away, she knew that she had taken on a role unlike any other, one that demanded her utmost dedication and discretion. The reflection of her determination in those glasses was a symbol of the resolve she brought to her new position, one that she intended to uphold at all costs.

(Y/n) settled into her new role as the secretary for the Volturi with a fierce dedication. Her efficiency and attention to detail quickly became apparent to the coven's leaders. Aro, always one to appreciate those who could fulfill his demands promptly, decided to put her to the test.

One afternoon, he strolled into her office, his graceful presence demanding attention. (Y/n) looked up from her desk, her fingers flying across the keyboard of her computer as she organized files and scheduled appointments.

"Ah, (Y/n)," Aro greeted her with his customary smile. "I have a task for you."

(Y/n) nodded, ready to take on any request from her employer. "Of course, master Aro. What do you need?"

Aro explained, "I need you to post an aid about a tour for fifty people for tomorrows feeding, a rather impromptu event. I would like you to schedule it for me.”

(Y/n) didn't miss a beat. She continued typing on her computer, her eyes darting across the screen as she worked her magic with scheduling software. "Consider it done, master Aro."

Aro was taken aback by her speed and efficiency. He had expected this task to take some time, but within mere minutes, (Y/n) turned her screen toward him, displaying a perfectly organized tour for fifty attendees, complete with dates, times, and an itinerary.

His crimson eyes widened with a mixture of surprise and admiration. "You work remarkably fast, (Y/n)."

(Y/n) looked up with a confident smile. "I pride myself on being efficient, master aro. Is there anything else you need?"

Aro chuckled, clearly impressed. "Not at the moment, my dear. Carry on with your excellent work."

As he left her office, (Y/n) couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. She had proven her worth to the Volturi leader, and her efficiency would undoubtedly serve her well in this world of secrecy and power.

In the serene garden of the Volturi castle, Marcus often found solace among the flowers that his late mate had once lovingly tended to. He wandered the garden, lost in his own thoughts, the weight of his immortal life bearing down on him.

One day, as he strolled along the carefully manicured paths, Marcus noticed something extraordinary. The flowers that had once withered away had begun to regrow, vibrant and beautiful as if brought back to life by some unseen force. He couldn't help but be struck by the sight, the memories of his mate's love for these flowers flooding his mind.

Marcus approached a lower guard who was on duty nearby, his curiosity piqued. "Who has been taking care of the garden? These flowers, they are flourishing once more."

The lower guard, a vampire who had served the Volturi for centuries, nodded respectfully to Marcus. "It is the human, my lord."

"The human?" Marcus asked, intrigued. "What is their name?"

The guard, who knew the human by the name the Volturi called her, replied, "The secretary (Y/n), my lord."

Marcus considered this revelation, the name sparking a distant memory. He had heard the name (Y/n) mentioned in passing, but he had paid little attention. Now, it seemed this human was not only tending to the garden but also reviving the memories of his lost mate.

With a nod of appreciation, Marcus continued to admire the blooming flowers, a silent acknowledgment of the human named (Y/n) for her care and dedication. In the garden, among the resurrected blooms, he felt a connection to his past and a glimmer of hope for the future, all thanks to the efforts of this mysterious human.

In the dimly lit halls of the Volturi castle, Caius, one of the coven's leaders, was growing increasingly frustrated. He had been searching for his favorite cloak, a luxurious garment of deep crimson, for what felt like an eternity. His irritation had escalated to the point where his voice echoed through the corridors as he yelled at everyone in his path.

"Where is it? Who has taken my cloak?" he bellowed, his tone venomous.

Vampires scurried to avoid his wrath, their wide-eyed expressions betraying their fear of their temperamental leader.

In the midst of the chaos, a soft and calm voice cut through the tension. "(Y/n)," Caius snapped, his crimson eyes narrowing as he turned to face the human secretary, "(Y/n), have you seen my cloak? I cannot find it anywhere."

(Y/n) stepped forward, holding Caius's missing cloak draped carefully over her arm. Her voice was composed, unruffled by his outburst. "Master Caius, you left this in your office. I've noticed it had specks of dried blood on it, so I've had it dried clean."

Caius was momentarily taken aback, his anger dissipating as he processed her words. He couldn't believe it. The usually distant and indifferent human secretary had not only found his cloak but had taken it upon herself to ensure it was cleaned.

"(Y/n)," Caius said, his voice softer now, "you did this for me?"

(Y/n) nodded, her gaze steady as she met his crimson eyes. "Of course, Master Caius. It's my duty to assist in any way I can."

Caius, still in disbelief, reached out to take the cloak from her arm. His fingers brushed against hers, and he felt a strange, unfamiliar sensation stir within him. He couldn't deny that her thoughtfulness had left a mark on him, one that he couldn't easily dismiss.

As (Y/n) excused herself and left the hallway, Caius watched her retreating figure with a newfound appreciation. It was a small gesture, but one that had touched him deeply, and he couldn't help but wonder if there was more to this human secretary than met the eye.

The grand trial room within the Volturi castle was filled with a weighty silence as the three kings, Aro, Caius, and Marcus, gathered for a discussion. The subject of their conversation was none other than their human secretary, (Y/n).

"She's good at her job, almost too damn good," Aro commented, his eyes gleaming with intrigue. "I can't seem to find a simple mistake in her work."

Caius nodded in agreement. "She's quick, and her work is effective. It seems we'll be keeping her around long-term."

Marcus, who often remained silent, offered his approval with a subtle nod.

The kings reached a unanimous decision. They would offer (Y/n) a gift, one that would bind her to the Volturi for eternity. They sent their most trusted enforcers, the twins Alec and Jane, to fetch her.

Alec and Jane, swift and efficient as always, found (Y/n) in her office. They approached her with the precision of a well-practiced routine.

"(Y/n)," Alec began, his tone even, "the masters request your presence in the trial room."

(Y/n) blinked in surprise but complied, following the twins to the room where the three kings awaited.

Once inside, (Y/n) stood before the Volturi leaders, her heart pounding with anticipation. Aro spoke first, his voice dripping with charm.

"(Y/n), in the short months you have been with us, your dedication and efficiency have impressed us greatly," Aro said, his crimson eyes locked onto hers. "We value your contributions, and we would like to offer you a gift."

(Y/n) couldn't hide her surprise. "A gift, masters?"

Caius stepped forward, his gaze unwavering. "We offer you immortality, (Y/n). A chance to join our coven as one of us."

The offer hung in the air, a life-altering decision that (Y/n) had never expected. She considered her options carefully, her thoughts racing. The weight of eternity was a heavy burden to bear, but the allure of becoming part of the Volturi coven was undeniable.

After a moment of reflection, (Y/n) finally spoke. "I'm not sure what to say, masters, but thank you for the offer."

With her acceptance, the kings nodded in approval. The twins, Alec and Jane, moved closer, their hands lightly touching her body. “Alec -“ aro calls out and in second Alec has (y/n) wrapped in his dark smoke, her senses numbing within seconds. “Don’t worry dear, it’ll be over in no time.”

Over the course of three days, (Y/n) underwent the agonizing process of the vampire transformation. She endured the fire of change, sometimes which were numbed by Alec per the kings request and now she was emerging from the ordeal as a newborn vampire, her senses heightened and her existence forever entwined with the Volturi.

As her eyes fluttered open in her new immortal life, (Y/n) realized that she had become a permanent part of the Volturi coven, her loyalty and dedication recognized in the most profound way possible.

Hacaea, the Witch of the Woodland Green and Grimore, the Witch of the Wild Hunt

(@worldsbeyondpod has me pacing and fearing for the pcs lives)

who's pulling the strings of the puppet king?