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pamphletstoinspire · 1 year ago

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Meditations of St. Padre Pio – Part 2 A

Padre Pio was at the height of his priestly apostolate with multitudes of pilgrims visiting him, for his Mass, to confess to him, and to ask him for prayers and counsel. He was a master of souls; he directed everyone with penetrating words full of deep meaning. His series of "Meditations" was the first complete text of Padre Pio's thoughts. These texts consists of Padre Pio's meditations upon the fundamental dogmas of the Catholic faith. The Immaculate Conception and the Incarnation of Jesus. He then relives Jesus' agony in the garden of olives. Next he reflects on the human condition, and on our need to turn to God in the passing of our days. These are not conventional texts; they are reflections derived from the contemplation of the absolute Truth. “Mary Immaculate” is a more theological text. The others are more human and simple.

Padre Pio, in the first years of his residence in San Giovanni Rotondo (1918 – 1920), when he was freer from the care of souls, wrote a few meditations for his novices and his spiritual daughters of the Franciscan Third Order. They were the text of his lectures or instructions that he gave weekly as their Spiritual Director. After that, between the years 1925 – 1928, Padre Pio compiled other meditations. Fr. Agostino of San Marco in Lamis affirms it in his "Diary:" The Provincial, Fr. Bernardo of Alpicella, once suggested to Padre Pio to “compile a few meditations for the principal feasts of the year for our seminarians.” When Padre Pio was shown the possibility of publishing these meditations, he said: "I have written these things for myself." But, when it was explained to him that "they would do a lot of good to our souls" he smilingly said: "if it is as you say, bonum est diffu sivum sui (good, by its nature, is destined to be spread).

First Meditation - Christmas Season

J. M. J. – D. F. C. Note: The initials J. M. J. – D. F. C. Stands for Jesus, Mary, Joseph – Dominic, Francis, Catherine

At dead of night in the harshest of seasons, in the coldest of caves, a more suitable dwelling for beasts than human beings, the promised Messiah, Jesus, the Savior of men sees the light in the fullness of time. No fuss surrounds him, an ox and an ass warm the poor newborn Infant, a lowly woman and a poor man are there by his side to adore him. No sound can be heard except the whimpering cries of the Infant God. By these cries and whimpering he offers to the divine justice the first payment for our reconciliation.

For fully forty centuries he had been expected; with desire the ancient Fathers had appealed for his coming, the sacred writers had clearly prophesied the place and time of his birth, yet all is silence around him and no one seems to be aware of this great event. Only some time later is he visited by shepherds who have been watching their flocks in the fields. They are notified of the marvelous event by heavenly spirits and invited to go to the cave where he lies.

O Christians, what lessons and how many do we receive from the cave of Bethlehem! Oh, how our hearts ought to be inflamed with love for the One who has become all tenderness for us. Oh, how we ought to burn with the desire to lead the entire world to this lowly grotto in which the King of Kings is sheltered, in a shelter finer than any royal palace since it is the throne and abode of God! Let us ask this Divine Child to clothe us with humility, for only by this virtue can we appreciate such a mystery of Divine tenderness. The palaces of proud Israel are glittering, yet it is not in these dwellings that the Light comes into the world. The magnates of the Jewish nation are haughty in their human greatness, they wallow in wealth and comfort. The priest of the Temple are filled with vain knowledge and pride. Contrary to the true meaning of the divine revelations, they have diminished the image of the Savior whom they expect to come into the world with human pomp and power. But God who is always ready to confound the wisdom of this world has upset their plans and, contrary to the expectations of those who are lacking in divine wisdom, he comes down among us in the greatest abjection. He even refuses to be born in Joseph's humble home, he refuses a modest lodging among relatives and acquaintances in the city of Judah and like an outcast seeks refuge and help from poor animals, choosing their abode as his birthplace and their breath to warm his tender little body. He allows poor rough shepherds to pay him the first honors, those whom he himself has informed of the great mystery by means of his angels.

O wisdom and power of God, we are compelled to cry out ecstatically with the Apostle, how incomprehensible are your judgments and how unsearchable your ways. Poverty, humility, abjection and contempt surround the Word Made Flesh. But in the darkness which envelops the Incarnate Word we understand something, we hear a voice, we catch a glimpse of a sublime truth. You have done all this out of love and you invite us to nothing but love, you speak of nothing but love, you give us nothing but proofs of love.

The heavenly Infant suffers and wails in the manger in order to make suffering lovable, meritorious and sought after by us, He lacks everything so that we may learn from him to give up the goods and comforts of this world. He is pleased to have poor and humble adorers in order to induce us to love poverty and prefer the company of the humble and simple rather than that of the great ones of this world. This heavenly Child all meekness and tenderness wants to instill these sublime virtues into our hearts by his example, so that an era of peace and love may dawn on this disordered and utterly confused world. From the moment of his birth he points out to us our mission, which is to despise the things to which the world is attached and which it seeks.

Oh, let us bow down before the manger and with the great St. Jerome, the Saint inflamed with love for the Infant Jesus, let us offer him our whole heart without reserve, and promise him that we shall follow the teachings we receive from the cave of Bethlehem, telling us that everything here below is vanity of vanities and nothing but vanity.

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mybeautifulchristianjourney · 2 years ago

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Devotional Hours Within the Bible

by J.R. Miller

The Ten Commandments (Exodus 20)

Mount Sinai became the meeting-place of God and the people of Israel. The Lord met Moses on the mountain and told him that He would reveal Himself in a thick cloud, and speak to him in a voice that the Israelites would hear. Solemn preparations were made for the great event. Bounds were set, inside of which no one should pass on penalty of death. On the third day, the promised revelation came. There were thunders and lightnings, and a cloud enveloping the mountain. Then out of the midst of the magnificent scene, God spoke to the assembly of Israel, the Ten Commandments as the basis of His covenant with them.

The commandments are of Divine origin. The Lord based the obligation of the people to obey these commandments, on what he had done for them. “I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage.”

Everywhere we find the footprints of God. Life is full of His goodness and mercy. When we think of what He has done for us we cannot but recognize His right to command us. All the hopes of the Israelites had come from God’s deliverance. Once they were slaves and He had set them free. Had it not been for His love for them, and His power put forth in their behalf they would still have been slaves in Egypt! He had redeemed them and now they were a free people, on their way to a land in which they would grow into a great nation.

“You shall have no other gods before Me.” The commandments are given in the second person singular, “ You shall.” God’s law deals with individuals and comes to each one personally and separately.

The first commandment requires that God shall have the first place in our life. The opening words in the Bible are suggestive: “In the beginning God.” We should put Him first and keep Him first in all our life.

Every person has some ‘god’. Our god is that which rules us, that which we love, obey, live for, and reverence. We talk with pity of the idolatry of heathen nations. But there are idolaters nearer to us than India or China. In whatever heart the true God is not worshiped, some false god is. Is the God of the Scriptures, indeed our God? Do we love Him above all persons and all things? Is He really first in all our thoughts, affections, plans and hopes?

It is not enough that we give Him the first place in our creed, saying: “I believe in God the Father Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth: and in Jesus Christ His only Son, our Lord.” If lip confession is all we have to give Him, He cares nothing for it. What is God to our hearts, to our consciences, to our wills? Do we trust Him? What is He to us? How much would we lose out of our life if we were to cease to trust Him? Then it is not trust only that God asks He claims also our worship and obedience. “If you love Me,” said Jesus, “you will keep My commandments.” This first commandment ought to start a great many searching questions in our hearts as we study it.

“You shall not make for yourself an idol in the form of anything in heaven above or on the earth beneath or in the waters below. You shall not bow down to them or worship them; for I, the LORD your God, am a jealous God, punishing the children for the sin of the fathers to the third and fourth generation of those who hate me, but showing love to a thousand generations of those who love me and keep my commandments.” Exodus 20:4-6

This commandment does not forbid the arts of painting and sculpture, for even in the tabernacle, carved figures were placed. What is forbidden is the worship of God under any form or image. When God says that He is jealous, and visits the iniquities of the fathers upon the children, He does not mean that He punishes the children for the evil that their fathers have done. Each one must bear his own burden of guilt. But sin casts long shadows. It does not stop with him who commits it. Parents who are tempted to do wrong, should think that besides bringing punishment upon themselves, they are also sowing seeds of hurt and curse for the children they love.

“You shall not take the name of the Lord your God in vain, for the Lord will not hold anyone guiltless, who takes His name in vain.” There are many ways of taking God’s name in vain. One is to use it without reverence and love.

One tells of a miner, with grimy hand, plucking a pure, sweet flower. It seemed unfit, almost a desecration, for the lovely flower to be held in the soiled hand. How infinitely more of a desecration is it when in trivial speech we speak the name of God! The ancient Hebrews would, never utter the sacred name of Jehovah; they said it was too holy to be taken upon human lips. In some parts of the East, the Mohammedans will not tread upon the smallest piece of paper which they see lying on the ground. They say it may have on it the name of God. If we only thought more of the holiness and majesty of God we would surely honor His name more thoughtfully. Even Christians are ofttimes careless in the use of God’s name in their speech.

One common application of this commandment, is to profanity in speech. Even boys who are but learning to lisp their early words, are heard using the Divine name in awful oaths and cursing. Men who claim to be cultured and refined, speak the name of God profanely, using it to give emphasis to their speech.

All the universe honors God’s name. The stars as they shine, flash His praise. The storm, the sunshine, the towering mountains, the sweet valley, the thunder peal, the whisper of evening, the sweet flowers all honor God. Man alone profanes, dis-hallows and blasphemes the blessed name. Profanity is a sin which brings no pleasure, no gain; it does not adorn one’s speech but disfigures it. There seems to be no reason for it but contempt of God in human hearts.

“Remember the Sabbath day by keeping it holy. Six days you shall labor and do all your work, but the seventh day is a Sabbath to the LORD your God. On it you shall not do any work, neither you, nor your son or daughter, nor your manservant or maidservant, nor your animals, nor the alien within your gates. For in six days the LORD made the heavens and the earth, the sea, and all that is in them, but he rested on the seventh day. Therefore the LORD blessed the Sabbath day and made it holy.” Exodus 20:8-11

Many people seem to forget God’s day. The day is like all other days to them. They do their work just as on week days. Or if they do not work, they take the time for worldly pleasure. It is time we should be reminded again, of what God has said about the Sabbath.

“Honor your father and your mother, so that you may live long in the land the LORD your God is giving you.” There are many reasons why we should honor our parents. We owe a great deal to them. They watched over us through years of helpless infancy. They toiled, suffered and sacrificed for us. They bore patiently with all our faults. They took the storms of life themselves, that they might shelter us. Perhaps they appear a little faded and old-fashioned to our keen, critical eyes. But if so, we should not forget how it all came about. It was in caring for us that they lost their freshness and vigor.

The Brittany peasants give this beautiful legend of the way the robin got its red breast: When Jesus was being led out to crucifixion, bearing His cross and wearing His crown of thorns a bird, pitying Him, flew down and plucked a thorn from His brow. The blood from the wound gushed out and splashed the bird’s breast. Ever since that day the robin has borne this mark of its pity for the suffering Christ. This is only a legend but it teaches a beautiful lesson. We should ever be eager to pluck out the thorns which are piercing the brows of our mother and father. Some children, however, by their careless life or by their neglect, weave circlets of thorns for the brows of those whom they ought to love and bless!

Jesus gave us the highest example of honor to parents, in the way He showed His love to His mother. It was a sweet friendship that existed between this mother and her Holy Son. He opened His soul to her and she gave not a mother’s love only but also a mother’s counsel, and strong, inspiring help. Then His love overshadowed her to the last. One of the seven sayings spoken while He hung on the cross told of His faithful affection for her. The world would be desolate for her when her Son was gone. So He made provision for her in the shelter of a love in which He knew she would be safe. As He saw her led away by the beloved disciple to his own home part of the pain of dying was gone from His own heart. His mother would have gentle care.

“You shall not murder. Exodus 20:13. So long as we interpret this commandment only with bare literalness, it does not give us much trouble. Not many of us have ever killed anybody. But when we read into it the meaning that our Lord gave it in His Sermon on the Mount we find that it is not so easy to keep it. God looks into the heart, and He may find the spirit of murder there when no hand is raised to strike. All bitterness, malice, hatred, envy, jealousy, uncharitableness, and all angry thoughts, dispositions and feelings are the beginnings of murder .

There are many ways in which we may indirectly injure the lives of others. The dealer adulterates the food he sells, and the preparations act as slow poisons, secretly destroying the lives of those who use the food. A mother allows her children to violate the laws of health, to eat unwholesome food, to be irregular in their rest and exercise. By-and-by, they sicken and perhaps die. She wonders then at the strange ways of Providence and asks why it is that God so afflicts her. The plumber does careless work, and diphtheria finds its way into a home. The builder is negligent, and a wooden beam lies too close to the flue, and one night catches fire, leaving death in the ruins of the home. We are our brothers’ keepers, and any failure in our guardianship leaves guilt on our souls.

When the old Hebrews built a house, they were required by law to put a fence round the flat roof, lest someone might fall off and be injured or killed. So we should not only guard against harming others directly but should also construct our whole life and influence so that no one may indirectly receive injury from us.

“You shall not commit adultery.” Exodus 20:14. The seventh commandment also searches the heart, taking cognizance of the thoughts, feelings, desires, affections and imaginations. We must learn to guard our thoughts if we would please God. “Blessed are the pure in heart.” One part of true religion, as James defines it, is to keep one’s self “unspotted from the world.” Lilies float in the black water of a bog and yet remain pure and white, without spot or stain. So by the grace of Christ, every young person should try to live a pure and heavenly life in the world but unspotted by the world’s evil.

“You shall not steal.” Exodus 20:15. There are many ways of stealing without deliberately putting one’s hand into a neighbor’s pocket and abstracting his gold or silver. The postmaster had failed to cancel the stamp on a letter, and the young girl who received it peeled off the stamp and used it again to send a reply to her friend. She thought she had done a smart thing she did not see the eighth commandment broken under her feet. A boy went to the store for a pound of coffee. The shopkeeper was hurried, and in his haste gave him five cents too much change. The boy ran home chuckling over the mistake in great glee, because the grocer had cheated himself. He did not think that while the man had made an honest mistake he himself was a thief. A man borrows money from a friend. He promises to return it next Tuesday. But he never returns it at all. He often thinks of it but as his generous friend does not ask him for it he never attempts to pay his debt. He supposes he is a debtor he never thinks for a moment that he is a thief.

“You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor.” Exodus 20:16. There is probably not a large amount of false witnessing in courts of justice. Even wicked men are afraid to lie under oath. But there is a vast amount of lying about other people, which is done in the ordinary conversation of the street, the office, the parlor. Anything is false witnessing, which misrepresents another or puts him in a wrong light. Taking up any evil report which we hear and repeating it again, is really bearing false witness. Our neighbor’s good name is a jewel which we should sacredly guard. The best rule is never to say anything unkind of another, even if it be true. It might stop much of the fashionable talk of society but that is of little matter; the world would not be greatly the loser.

“You shall not covet your neighbor’s house. You shall not covet your neighbor’s wife, or his manservant or maidservant, his ox or donkey, or anything that belongs to your neighbor.” Exodus 20:17. The tenth commandment forbids the sin of covetousness, and teaches the duty of contentment. A Roman Catholic priest said that among all the thousands of ‘confessions’ which had been made to him, no one had confessed the sin of covetousness. Yet probably no sin is so common, no one of the commandments is so often broken.

One of the best proofs of the Christian spirit, is the ability to rejoice in the success and prosperity of others. Does it make us glad to see our neighbor possessing good things or does it make us envious ? Do we rejoice in his prosperity, or do we begrudge his good things to him and wish they were ours instead? Does other people’s happiness or success make us happy or discontented? When we look down to the root of things, we discover that many crimes start just in the simple desire to have something that is not ours. “I saw, I coveted, I took!” told the whole story of Achan’s sin.

#James Russell Miller #Devotional Hours Within the Bible #The Ten Commandments #Exodus 20 #January 30 #2023

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shammah8 · 1 year ago

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🕊️🌺Wendy🌺🕊️:

God, one flash of light on the Word of God, is sufficient to save us from a thousand pitfalls. People have built without a word from God, they have bought things without a word from God, and they have been ensnared. They have lacked that word of wisdom which will bring them into God’s plan for their lives. I have been in many places where I have needed a word of wisdom from God and this has been vouchsafed.

I will give you one instance. There is one thing I am very grateful to the Lord for, and that is that He has given me grace not to have a desire for money. The love of money is a great hindrance to many; and many a man is crippled in his ministry because he lets his heart run after financial matters. I was walking out one day when I met a godly man who lived opposite me and he said, “My wife and I have been talking together about selling our house and we feel constrained to sell it to you.” As we talked together he persuaded me to buy his place, and before we said good-by I told him that I would take it. We always make big mistakes when we are in a hurry. I told my wife what I had promised, and she said, “How will you manage it?” I told her that I had managed things so far, but I did not know how I was going to get through this. I somehow knew that I was out of divine order. But when a fellow gets out of divine order it seems that the last person he goes to is God. I was relying on an architect to help me, but that scheme fell through. I turned to my relations and I certainly had a wet shirt as one after another turned me down. I tried my friends and managed no better. My wife said to me, “Thou hast never been to God Yet.” What could I do?

I have a certain place in our house where I go to pray. I Havebeen there very often. As I went I said, “Lord, i£ Y ou will get me out of this scrape, I will never trouble Thee on this line again.” As I waited on the Lord He just gave me one word. It seemed a ridiculous thing, but it was the wisest counsel. There is divine wisdom in every word He speaks. I came down to my wife, saying, “What do you think? The Lord has told me to go to Brother Webster.” I said, “It seems very ridiculous, for he is one of the poorest men I know.” He was the poorest man I knew, but he was also the richest man I knew, for he knew God.

My wife said, “Do What God says, and it will be right.”

I went off at once to see him, and he said as he greeted me, “Smith, what brings you so early?” I answered, “The word of God.” I said to him, “About three weeks ago I promised to buy a house of a man, and I am short 100 pounds ($500). I have tried to get this money, but somehow I seem to have missed God.” “How is it,” he asked, “that you have come to me only now?” I answered, “Because I went to the Lord about it only last night.” “Well,” he said, “it is a strange thing; three weeks ago I had 100 pounds. For years I have been putting money into a co-operative system and three weeks ago I had to go and draw 100 pounds out. I hid it under the mattress. Come with me and you shall have it. Take it. I hope it will bring as great a blessing to you as it has been a trouble to me.” I had had a word from God, and all my troubles were ended. This has been multiplied in a hundred ways since that time. If I had been walking along filled with the Holy Ghost, I would not lave bought that house and would not have had all that strain. I believe the Lord wants to loose us from things of earth. But I am ever grateful for that word from God. There have been timesin my life when I have been in great crises and under great weight of intercession. I have gone to the meeting without the knowledge of what I would say, but somehow or other God would vouchsafe the coming forth under the power of the Spirit of some word of wisdom, just what some souls in that meeting needed. As we look to God His mind will be made known, and His revelation and His word of wisdom will be forth coming.If thou shalt confess with thy mouth Jesus as Lord, and shalt believe in thine heart that God hath raised him from the dead, thou shalt be saved” (Romans 10:9).

“For to this end Christ died and lived again, that he might be lord of both the dead and the living” (Romans 14:9).☕️Smith Wigglesworth

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witchcraftandburialdirt · 5 months ago

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"Something you say or something you do is a taste of the Divine." - medieval or dbd Taruko

✧ ━━ 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐓𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 : 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐎 𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝙳𝙴𝙰𝙳 𝙱𝚈 𝙳𝙰𝚈𝙻𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃 𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙴

The cool night air enveloped Haruko and Tarhos as they lay entwined on a bed of fallen hay in the desolate outskirts of Scattered Square; they had finally found a moment of quiet solitude - there was no time to waste. The gentle rustle of the hay beneath them mingled with the soft whispers that had been passing between them, creating a cocoon of intimacy in the abandoned landscape. But really what else was to be expected between them? Haruko's fingers delicately traced the curves of Tarhos' lips as he took his chance to admire the lines forming the contours of his lover's face.

As they lay together, their bodies slotted perfectly like pieces of a puzzle, quiet words filled the air as Haruko's gaze lingered. Even just the curve of Tarhos' brow was a masterpiece in the dim light to his wife; he was absolutely beautiful. His scars were ravines carved by the rivers of time, and his eyes held the entire ocean within their irises. As he leaned in to capture Knight's lips in a kiss, a whispered confession met his ear and sent a rush of emotion through his being. His heart danced in his chest - pulled by the delicate thread which had sewn their souls together so long ago.

Haruko closed the distance between them almost instantly and as he melted into his lover's warm embrace, a sense of completeness washed over him, filling every crevice of his being with a sense of belonging. The world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the heat of their bodies intertwined. A soft smile graced his lips as he felt the slight prickle of stubble on Tarhos' cheeks against his own skin, urging the kiss to deepen once Haruko tilted his head in tandem with his husband. One hand found its place on Tarhos' chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath his palm, while the other effortlessly weaved through the Knight's long, hair, reveling in its softness.

Haruko knew that his hands would never be able to hold enough of his lover to satisfy him, for Tarhos was his home, his heart, and his everything. As their parted lips retreated reluctantly, a silent plea lingering in the air, Haruko felt a yearning deep within his soul to press his affections onto his true love, to claim him as his own all over again -

"A taste? Mm … Then I am completely yours to feast upon, my beloved."

#✧ ── 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐔𝐊𝐎 𝐍𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐄 ... 【 ᴛʜᴇ ꜰʟᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴍᴀɪᴅᴇɴ 】#── 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐖 𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐒𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐘𝐄𝐓 ... 【 ɪᴄ 】#── 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 #✧ ── 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐔𝐊𝐎 : ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍɪᴅᴅʟᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴄʜᴀᴏꜱ...ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜ.#── 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐍’𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐏𝐒𝐄 … 【 ᴀꜱᴋ ᴍᴇᴍᴇ 】#bells of black sunday

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zaruba-needslove · 1 year ago

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Greetings once more, Izzu. Now that we've laid eyes upon the Winter Movie trailer, I find myself compelled to share my musings.

As usual, I think you're my safe space for airing anything that's related to Keiwa.

I must confess, there's a subtle pang of disappointment resonating within me. It appears the movie's plot remains entrenched in the game show paradigm, a choice that, truth be told, doesn't entirely align with my expectations. I had harbored a faint hope that the Geats characters would be liberated from the shackles of competition, reminiscent of the TTFC specials where contests were conspicuously absent.

In an ideal world, I envisioned the Geats characters engaging in activities sans the burden of competing against each other.

On a tangentially related note, while perusing your narratives on Ao3, I couldn't help but admire your ingenious treatment of Keiwa. To be frank, I harbored a desire for the winter movie to adopt a plot more akin to yours, but alas, reality has dictated otherwise.

The sinister hands of the Abyssalis Sisters, who ensnared the hapless Keiwa, coaxing forth his malice to birth a Malevolent Fusion - an Appare Bushido Malgam.

As the cursed Keiwa, donned in the shadows of the Appare Bushido Malgam, wreaked havoc upon the academy, Buffa and Na-go, valiant in their attempt to fight the Malgam, not knowing that it was Keiwa, were met with a chilling revelation - for it was Keiwa himself who emerged as the menacing Malgam. Desperation clouded their faces as they sought to awaken him, yet he remained an unyielding specter of malice.

Sara, driven by desperation, endeavored to break Keiwa free from the Abyssalis Sisters' grip. Though successful in snapping him out momentarily, their sinister control surged anew, compelling Keiwa to turn against his own sister, forcing a swift retreat by all.

Buffa, Na-go, Gotchard, and Rinne sought refuge at a sacred shrine, encountering Tsumuri. In unity, all five inscribed pleas on the tablets, beseeching the divine for intervention. And lo, Ace, a godly presence, answered their call. Maybe even add Sara to that list of characters asking for godly help.

In an unexpected alliance, Keiwa and Houtarou forged a united front against the corrupted Malgam, emerging from the shackles of mind control. Together, they confronted a formidable adversary, bringing closure to this dark chapter.

The Tycoon Bujin Sword, Geats IX, and the enhanced form of Gotchard executed a powerful rider kick, sealing the fate of the "special" Malgam.

Oh wow.... this whole musing was like so awesome! Also I love the idea of Keiwa getting entangled into yet another evil plot 😂😂😂😂😂

Keiwa really do make a nice Damsel in Distress 😂😂😂

And now you're making me feel bad that this musing wasn't what we're gonna get for Winter movie www. Malgam Keiwa had this attractive appeal roflmao Can't really get enough of mind-controlled Keiwa plots 😀

#ask box replies #sakurai keiwa #kamen rider geats #kamen rider

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steveezekiel · 1 year ago

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WHAT SOURCE DOES THAT SUPERNATURAL GIFT IN YOU HAS? 2

16. Now it happened, as we went to prayer, THAT A CERTAIN SLAVE GIRL POSSESSED WITH A SPIRIT OF DIVINATION MET US, who brought her masters much profit by fortune-telling.

17. This girl followed Paul and us, and cried out, saying, “THESE MEN ARE THE SERVANTS OF THE MOST HIGH GOD, who proclaim to us the way of salvation.”

Acts 16:16,17 (NKJV)

18. And many who had believed came CONFESSING AND TELLING THEIR DEEDS.

19. ALSO, MANY OF THOSE who had PRACTICED MAGIC BROUGHT THEIR BOOKS TOGETHER AND BURNED THEM IN THE SIGHT OF ALL. And they counted up the value of them, and it totaled fifty thousand pieces of silver."

Acts 19:18,19 (NKJV)

• Some are deluded.

A young lady was sharing with me that she has the gift of the Holy Spirit operating in her life from childhood.

I asked her When did she give her life to Christ Jesus. She mentioned the time, and I told her that the gift she talked about is not of God.

- The source of the gift could not have been God, because the gift had been operational in her life ever before she accepted Christ Jesus as her Saviour and Lord. She did argue and could not agree with what I told her.

- There are many in the church today who claimed to have one gift of the Holy Spirit or another, but such gifts they talk about are not of God. They are not the gifts of the Holy Spirit at all! Such are familiar spirits, spirit of divination, soothsaying, sorcery, and the like.

- Such people know the truth and reality of it, but a good number of them pretend as if they are ignorant of the truth. Some of such people believe the end justifies the means!

- They want to believe that, even if the so-called gifts of the spirit are of the devil, since they are using them for good, to minister to other people; it thus made such gifts acceptable to God.

- Another person who has such a gift quoted a Scripture to substantiate the legitimacy of the gift: "For the GIFTS AND CALLING of God ARE WITHOUT REPENTANCE" (Romans 11:29 KJV) the person said.

- The person said God does give gifts to everyone, even those who have not repented—those who are not born-again.

BUT that passage of the Bible does not mean that, it was wrongly interpreted.

- I want us to see that Bible passage in other translations:

* "For once they are made, GOD DOES NOT WITHDRAW HIS GIFTS OF HIS CALLING" (Romans 11:29 Philips).

* "FOR THE GIFTS and THE CALLING OF GOD ARE IRREVOCABLE" (Romans 11:29 NKJV).

* "FOR God’s GIFTS and HIS CALL CAN NEVER BE WITHDRAWN" (Romans 11:29 NLT).

* "FOR THE GIFTS and THE CALLING OF GOD ARE IRREVOCABLE [for He does not withdraw what He has given, nor does He change His mind about those to whom He gives His grace or to whom He sends His call]" (Romans 11:29 Amps).

- What the author of that Bible passage says does not imply that God gives gifts to those who have not repented. What he said is that God does not change His mind when He does give gifts and call someone to be used.

- The calling and the Gifts without repentance according to King James Bible means, God does not repent or change His mind when He called someone and decided to use the person for His purpose.

- Therefore, the baptism of the Holy Spirit is not for those who are not born-again.

- Since whoever would receive the gifts of the Holy Spirit must have the Person of the Holy Spirit on the inside of him or her, thus, someone who has not been baptized in the Holy Spirit cannot have the gifts of the Holy Spirit.

THE Holy Spirit is the seal of God's ownership on those who have accepted Jesus Christ as Lord and Saviour:

13 In Him [Christ] you also trusted, AFTER YOU HEARD THE WORD OF TRUTH, THE GOSPEL OF YOUR SALVATION; in whom also, HAVING BELIEVED, YOU WERE SEALED WITH THE HOLY SPIRIT OF PROMISE" (Ephesians 1:13 NKJV).

READ: Romans 8:9; 2 Corinthians 1:22; Ephesians 4:30.

- Someone who is seeing into the realm of the spirit as an unbeliever could not claim that the gift of revelation with which he or she is seeing into the realm of spirit, is FROM the Holy Spirit—God. Not at all!

- The Holy Spirit does not give gifts to those who are not reborn! Any supernatural gift being operated by someone who is not born-again does not have its source from God.

AN unbeliever cannot receive the baptism of the Holy Spirit and the Gifts of the Holy Spirit:

16 And I [Jesus Christ] will pray the Father [God], and He will give you another HELPER [the Holy Spirit], that He may abide with you forever—17 THE SPIRIT OF TRUTH, WHOM THE WORLD [the unbelievers] CANNOT RECEIVE, because it [the world, the unbeliever] neither sees Him nor knows Him; BUT YOU [Believers] KNOW HIM, FOR HE DWELLS WITH YOU AND WILL BE IN YOU" (John 14:16,17 NKJV).

• What are the implications if you do NOT renounce whatever belongs to the devil, and the implication, if you are NOT committed to Christ fully after your claim of being born-again.

* The gift or whatever of the devil which you still have with you, gives him, the devil, a place in your life.

IT serves as a legal ground for him to operate in your life.

* The devil can easily rob you of the benefits and blessings of God's Kingdom because you have his property or gifted in your life.

* Also, God will not be able to use you maximally, being that the devil is still claiming ownership of your life because his property or gifted is in your life.

* In additions, you may experience things like: If you are a bachelor girl who is still believing God for a partner, the devil may stand on your way in getting one, he may not allow you to settle down and have a family. AND at times, if you succeeded in marrying, you may have a delay in having children.

- The devil would want to frustrate you, would not want you to enjoy the benefits of the Kingdom of God, since you still have what belongs to him with you. Not only on marriage, the devil may stand to fight your finances, health, or whatever.

THE devil may even want to contend for your soul that you are his, after your journey on earth! He may want to drag you to hell: "Yet Michael the archangel, IN CONTENDING [arguing] WITH THE DEVIL, WHEN HE DISPUTED ABOUT THE BODY OF MOSES..." (Jude 9).

- If any incriminating thing, a property that belongs to the devil, is found in your life, he may either lay claim on your body or soul like he did that of Moses at the end of your journey on earth (Jude 8,9).

* The devil also could cause you to remain shallow in the things of the Spirit, the things of the Kingdom of God. The genuine Gifts of the Holy Spirit would not be operational in your Life, because you already have the counterfeit.

- For whoever wants to be used of God should cleanse himself or herself and be a vessel of HONOUR and GOLD:

19 Nevertheless the solid foundation of God stands, having this seal: “The Lord knows those who are His,” and, “LET EVERYONE WHO NAMES THE NAME OF CHRIST DEPART FROM INIQUITY.”

20 But in a great house there are not only vessels of GOLD and silver, but also of wood and clay, some for HONOUR and some for dishonour. 21 THEREFORE IF ANYONE CLEANSES HIMSELF FROM THE LATTER, HE WILL BE A VESSEL FOR HONOUR, SANCTIFIED AND USEFUL FOR THE MASTER, PREPARED FOR EVERY GOOD WORK" (2 Timothy 2:19-21 NKJV).

- You cannot partake from the table of God and that of the devil:

19 What am I saying then? That an idol is anything, or what is offered to idols is anything?

20 Rather, that the things which the Gentiles sacrifice they sacrifice to DEMONS AND NOT TO GOD, AND I DO NOT WANT YOU TO HAVE FELLOWSHIP WITH DEMONS. 21 YOU CANNOT DRINK THE CUP OF THE LORD AND THE CUP OF DEMONS; YOU CANNOT PARTAKE OF THE LORD'S TABLE AND OF THE TABLE OF DEMONS" (1 Corinthians 10:19-21 NKJV).

• You will not fail in Jesus' name.

Peace!

TO BE CONTINUED

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erabundus · 2 years ago

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he wonders if this counts as PROGRESS, or if the only thing he's truly succeeded in is digging this hole all the deeper. the hurt, the betrayal the revelation begets has an uncomfortable feeling twisting in the pit of his nonexistent stomach — and how ironic that is, when he once sank blades betwixt the shoulders of those naïve enough to TRUST HIM as though it were a form of art. ❝ not exactly. ❞ ren confesses. speaking slowly, taking great care to choose his words. ❝ they know. they've always known what i am ... it's everyone else i'd prefer to keep in the dark about this. ❞ a flicker of uneasiness flashes across delicate features — brief, yet surprisingly genuine. ❝ believe it or not, i don't keep it a secret because i take great joy in fooling other people. ❞ it's just as much for his own protection, reluctant though he is to admit it.

he would prefer to cling to these vague truths and explanations without elaboration, but the general mahamata is clearly not the sort to feel satisfied with mere scraps. indigo gaze flicks down; ren looks at his own upturned palms and says, ❝ there was never anyone else. i've always been this. ❞ not mortal. not divine. some anomaly, existing on the thin line drawn between the two. ❝ i was a puppet built by the electro archon some centuries ago. unsatisfied with her creation, she ... chose to abandon me. ❞ his voice wears thin, dangerously close to breaking. regardless of the risk, the wanderer squeezes his eyes shut for a moment — clawing together scraps of the composure that sees fit to BETRAY him so.

❝ now isn't the time or place to go into the details. ❞ ren quickly continues. partly because he assumes talking at length about the myriad of ATROCITIES committed at his hands will do him no favors. ❝ lesser lord kusanali and the traveler are responsible for shedding some light on a particularly reprehensible deception i had been led to believe for many years ... so i've sworn allegiance to them until i've paid back what i owe. as you can imagine, something like me would make for an awfully USEFUL asset to have. ❞

He knew those words very well. But while the day he'd spoken them their memory had filled Cyno with warmth and pride, now he felt anything but. He remembered those teachings to heart, and still, even he would be hard-pressed to recite them in a perfectly identical manner such as the way the indigo-eyed person did just now.

No, it wasn't just the words. The inflection in his voice too did not belong to him. Listening, Cyno had the eerie impression to be listening to a recording of his own voice, more so than Ren repeating after him. It wasn't exactly the same, but the feeling was unshakable. It made him sick.

Realizing that the one who stood before him now was the very same he'd met that day. From the very beginning... It'd been this guy.

He should've known. He should've listened to his own guts back then, instead of just letting his faith blind him...

"... They worried about you. Lord Kusanali... the Traveler, too." He said through jaws so tight it hurt. "You've been lying to them this whole time?!"

#roleplayabiogenesis2

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prettyboykatsuki · 3 years ago

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»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

later | m. izuku

➳ tags ;; fluff, confessions, deku is smooth, kissing, fluff, fem!reader implied i think

➳ wc ;; 2.4k (wtf)

➳ a/n ;; brainrot......

➳ plot ;; izuku midoriya listens to you when you tell him to confess to you again later. he’s waited his whole life for you but he doesn’t know how much longer he can

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

He thinks to himself often that it has to be you he’s been chasing all this time.

This isn’t so much a revelation to him. It’s nothing like eureka moment, an aha that he uncovers after years of reflection. After all, he’s not the type to know what he really wants.

Which is funny for many reasons but mostly because he’s a hero. He did want that, still does - but it wasn’t really an active choice. It wasn’t the desire to become a hero in terms of glamour and fame but a deep-seated knowing about the fact he had to become one. That the desire to save people above all else was rooted and deeply ingrained in him that there would never be anything that would fulfill him quite the same way.

He finds it more often than not he’s acting out of pure instinct. Something carnal and perhaps other-worldly that pins him to the world in an almost divine way. All or nothing, there’s one way to approach existence and it’s with this unwavering desire to be kind.

He’s always been that kind of person.

But, if he sat down and thought about it, the desire to be with you is perhaps one of his own. It’s one of the only things he’d chase to the ends of the earth.

Izuku Midoriya has loved you since he was 14

The first time he ever confessed to you was when he was 15, about half way into his first year at U.A. It was outside of your apartment - your childhood home. He’d walk you there after his classes, when he caught you returning from your own. It was an awkward and clumsy teenage confession even then but he can remember the details clearly.

It comes to him a series of images. Orange-yellow light that fell over your face, hairs sticking a little your head, trembling hands, ricocheting heartbeats, the sound of cars passing. He wasn’t very confident then, it makes him laugh thinking back at. But he told you anyways, bursting at the seams with his feelings.

“I like you!”

Your first reaction was shock immediately followed with a somber smile. Though he told you he had liked you, it was in the brief moment afterwards that he though there was more to it than that. He wouldn’t call it a rejection, but a wake-up call. You leaned in to kiss his cheek before whispering something back.

“If you mean it,” ― you whisper, hand on his shoulder and eyes heavy ― “Tell me again later,”

With that, you turned on your heel and went home. He wasn’t sure how to feel for a while, because it’s not like you said no. And you kissed him so that had to mean something.

Rather predictably after that, he became so caught up in hero work, it was only natural that you two grew distant. Once frequent conversations became words in passing, spoken quietly to each other. He went off to become a great hero, and you went off to study what you love.

It was a natural occurrence - he knows this now. He wonders what kind of thinking you had to have been doing to know that at 15. The older he got, the more he thought about what you said. How the once vague mention of “later” became a narrow time-frame. Not a moment too soon and not a second too later.

Izuku Midoriya has loved you all of 8 years. For most of them, it’s been a passive yearning. The emptiness of his bedframe and his disinterest. 8 years and he’s tried and failed to love other people. Maybe he was testing if later would ever come.

He’s 22 and he thinks to himself that he’s been chasing the feeling of loving you this whole time. That adrenaline from when you kissed his cheek all those years ago, he wonders to himself if it’s still there

He’ll have to go find out

After a night-out, you are unfortunately sober on the walk home. Work dinners should have a general policy for how much someone can drink, you think. Maybe then you wouldn’t have had to shovel your boss into a taxi and remain regrettably conscious through a series of uncomfortable or agitating questions.

It wasn’t like he was invasive but he was.. annoying? And the fact you couldn’t sit through it by downing half a bottle of wine was a real shame . You’re so stone cold sober that your body shivers in the night air. Heels clacking against the pavement, eyes heavy and exhausted. You could endure it, you were finally going home after all.

You’d take a warm bath and hit the hay. Your body yearned for your bed and you don’t blame it. You sigh to yourself, hands in coat pockets.

“Just a little bit more,” ― you sigh, yawning and wiping your eyes ― “A little more and I’ll be...home?”

You were home, the front door to your building. There was an ominous looking figure sitting on the front steps. Your first reaction was to reach into your pockets and grab your keys between your knuckles. Your heart stuttered as you broached slowly. It was too dark to see clearly but maybe he was nice.

“Uhm.. excuse me, sir”

When he turns his head - your first reaction is to flinch. You step back as he turns his head only to grow stiff. A pair of warm green eyes and head of forest green locks await seems to be staring back at you. He gives you a warm smile - standing on his feet.

In a way, he’s unrecognizable to you. Though you see him all the time, Pro-Hero Deku making news, the image of him in your head is permanently small and frail. In front of you now, he’s grown up to be so big. A whole head taller than you and broad. He’s lean but clearly muscular. Intimidating in a sense.

“Ah, you’re home,” ― he says, non-chalant. You’re trying to recall the last time you spoke to him, the last time you’d even seen him. Maybe a year ago now? ― “I wanted to talk to you,”

Your first though is to ask questions. You had so many of them though, you’re not sure where to start. You want to ask how he’s been, and how did he find you, and how’s work going. You want to ask why he’s here after all this time and if following his dreams has made him happy how he hoped. You want to ask if he remember what he said to you at 15 - wondering if he still gets caught up on it like you do.

None of your words seem to string together right so you just shake your head a little, managing your disbelief.

“About what?” you ask. He pauses for a second, rubbing his chin before smiling at you.

“It’s later,”

Your eyes widen as he steps out of the way, using his hands to gesture towards your apartment. You blink at him but his smile is as cheeky as ever. Teasing and unusually handsome. You flush down to your neck before nodding.

“Oh, uhm.. right. Okay,”― you say, walking towards your complex doors ― “C-come on in,”

“You can uh.. take your shoes off at the door,” ― you say, after taking your own heels off and rushing to the kitchen ― “The green slippers should fit you,”

He nods as he watches you disappear to the kitchen. He takes in your apartment with a soft smile. Photos of you with your friends and family litter the entrance way. It’s filled with a soft yellow light, cozy like he’d expect. From below him, he hears a soft purr

A beige cat walks around his legs, observing him quietly before nuzzling against his thigh. His smile grows wide as he squats down and holds his hand for the kitty, waiting for it to approve of him before reaching and petting him. The cat is quick to the jump into his forearms.

“Who’s this?”

He ducks as he enters into the main area of your apartment. Your eyes widen as your usually stand-offish cat nuzzles comfortably in your childhood friends chest.

“His name is Creampuff,” ― you say, mildly stunned ― “He’s two,”

“What a good boy,”

Your heart races as you see him. After all this time, his presence still gives you those nervous butterflies. Maybe it’s because he’s become so attractive. Broader and taller but more rugged to look at.You feel like the floor might swallow you up.

“I’ll.. put on some tea,”

You take off your coat but you’re still in your work clothes. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he’s staring at you. You’re too afraid to look behind you and see, confirm but his gaze is so heavy you’re almost certain. He traces the outline of your body and back with his eyes.

He can’t help but think you’ve filled out some. Even from behind - you look awfully pretty. You look disheveled and sleepy like you did back in highschool, after cramming for exams. A little older now with that same cute expression on your face. It’s hard to hold back or tear himself from you - so he doesn’t try. He just watches as you pour the tea into mugs and let it steep. Minutes pass and it’s quiet but not as uncomfortable as you’d expect.

You return to your kitchen table with two mugs, setting his down on a coaster.

“Careful.. it’s hot,”

He nods, taking the mug in his hands and blowing on it before taking a sip. He hums.

“Ah.. it’s good. Thank you,”

A silence settle between you briefly. Your heart is in your throat, hands trembling a little on the table. When he notices, he reaches for them. This is another of his habits, you think. Comforting people must be second nature to him, but it only makes you more nervous.

“So.. how’ve you been?”

It’s the only thing you can think to ask. He studies your expression for a while. It used to the opposite of this. He used to be the nervous one, stuttery and unsure. You were always confident and steady - he’s sure you still are. This side of you is endearing though. He chuckles.

“I’ve been good. Work is hectic but that’s always,” ― and you’re going to ask him another question. Dodge what he’s really here for, but he cuts you off ― “I’ve missed you though, so I came to visit,”

You can feel it. This tension that presses against your back and makes you sit straight. He has that determined look in his eyes, easily recognizable when you watch him. In interviews and during fights and everything in between - like he knows what he’s going up against. To have it directed at you is so nerve-wracking, you find yourself doling under the pressure of his gaze.

You fidget, voice shaking like a leaf in the wind. He was always too much for to you handle.

“O-oh?,”

He nods, taking your hand in his. He holds it to his lips, kisses your knuckles like it’s the easiest thing in the world. You wonder where he learned to act like this. He’s different but the same. It’s too much for you so you shut your eyes.

He stands until he’s on your side of the table. Rests on the corners edge with his arms crossed over his chest. He looks at you with fondness, an unmistakable affection. After all these years, it’s only grown. Double and tripled in size. No matter how much he would try and punch it down, it never deflates.

He thinks loving you is an act of heroism. The only way he could ever really save himself. 8 years and it feels like you’re old friends. Nothing unnatural or wholly uncomfortable. It’s strange.

“I thought about what you said. About telling you later. This time though,” ― he drops to the floor, crouched between your legs so slightly. He does it to look straight at you ― “This time though, I have to tell you properly so you can’t make me wait again,”

“I wasn’t making you wait,” you insist. He takes your hand in his and you unravel, body slumped. He kisses the palms of your hands, the inside of your wrist and it feels like gravity has no mercy on you.

“It felt like hell,” ― he tells you ― “I can’t sit still anymore so I’m telling you now. Even if you want to run away, I can’t let you,”

You frown, heart rapid.

“That’s not very heroic,”

He smiles.

“Good. I don’t wanna be your hero. I just want to love you selfishly as Izuku and not Deku,” ― he says, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles ― “So tell me you love me back and grant my wish. I waited all this time,”

You’re stunned into silence at his request. Eyes feeling especially water as he leans into you. It doesn’t make sense but it feels right. Your heart is beating - like you can feel all the blood pumping in you and your head feels light.

“You say it so easily,”

He laughs. It’s bright just like how you remember.

“How could you know after all this time? How could you be sure?”

He shrugs. You hit his shoulder at the nonchalance but he only chuckles. He leans in closer to you, inches away from your face.

“I waited for you all this time. Shouldn’t you give me a chance to show you?”

You sniffle as his hands cup your cheeks. His smile is so inviting, how could you refuse him?

“I’d like to kiss you,” ― he pauses, shaking his head ― “I want to show you. Let me,”

You nod as he leans into you. His lips are pillow and soft - touch addicting. You give into him so easily, tongue tied. He keeps you close, hand at the base of your neck. It feels so good, so perfect. You believe him when he kisses you like this With secrets under his tongue, between his teeth.

“Tell me your answer,” ― he demands, soft but stern ― “You didn’t before. I need to hear it,”

You give him an exasperated laugh.

“I love you.. obviously”

Right. Obviously indeed.

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

#deku x reader #bnha x reader #writing tag #deku x you #deku x y/n #bnha x you #bnha x y/n

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pamphletstoinspire · 1 year ago

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Meditations of St. Padre Pio – Part 2 A

First Meditation - Christmas Season

J. M. J. – D. F. C. Note: The initials J. M. J. – D. F. C. Stands for Jesus, Mary, Joseph – Dominic, Francis, Catherine

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witch-hazels-musings · 3 years ago

Note

Okay okay, I’m super excited and nervous bc i’ve never requested anything but: can I request some headcanons of Dainsleif, Scaramouche and Tartaglia falling in love with a god? I’m the anon from that ask 😅

archons of my heart

this might have been the most different set of short little stories i’ve ever written - each character responds so differently to this scenario! (note: based on what we know about these characters, I stuck true to their values* - it might not be what you were intending, and I keep things true to their character) <3

Warning -> angst (Dain), fluff (Childe), genera/fluff?(Scara - mention of long hair)

Character X GN Reader | Anthology

Includes: Dainsleif, Scaramouche, Childe

Dain

Devastated, conflicted - these words have never resonated more in his mind than the day he found out about who you were, what you were

What does he do … he dislikes, no hates the archons and yet … you were one of them - you’d always been one of them and the whole time you hid this fact from him knowing full well the feelings he had for them

He couldn’t really hear as you desperately tried to explain to him why, he only heard the shattering of his heart as your face turned into something he no longer recognized

He stood there, his hands balled into tight fists at his sides, eyes tracking your movement as you paced back and forth in front of him, your feet wearing down the grass with each passover.

“I know you’ll never forgive them for what happened …” You begin, your voice somehow distorted now that he saw you for what you really were. He didn’t have words to respond, he felt out of his body. An observer rather than a participant, how he wished that were the case.

You stepped closer to him, hands reaching for his arm - the arm that had been tainted for so long - and without noticing he recoiled from your outreach. It was the first time he had ever deliberately refused your touch and, although he understood the pain it caused you, it was clear from the reaction of your face, he couldn’t bear your hands on him. Not now, not when the whole world was crumbling down around him.

You stood there, just the way you always did, incredible, perfect, beautiful and reverent in a way no-one ever looked before - he loved you, he thought he loved you

You were so different than those gods that destroyed everything he ever knew, everything he ever cared for, fought for

If only you hadn’t tried to save him then maybe he could have gone on living in the delusion of this relationship .. though, it was only a matter of time before he found out anyway - one day he’d notice how you never aged ... it was inevitable

To love you, to love you so deeply and intensely; to love you after keeping his heart sealed up for so long, to love you with the passion that burns like the stars in the sky only to know this truth - he felt that light burn out in a painful flash

An eye for an eye - he will maintain his beliefs

“Dainsl…”

“Do not …” His voice caught in his throat, it was the first time you’d heard him be taken over by his emotions, “ … do not speak my name.”

“Please, I love you.” Your hands pressed against your chest, body bent forward as if to beg him, plead with him to reconsider.

“I owe you nothing but the repayment of the life that you saved. I shall spare yours to conclude my debt.” For one final time he gazed upon your face, burning into memory the cheeks that he once touched, the eyes that held his breath, the lips that lingered against his skin and were capable of transforming into the most incredible smile. He looked, he lingered, he tried so hard to will the power in him that would whisk him as far from you as he could go but each time he tried he stalled, like a stubborn fool he hesitated.

Your wet cheeks moved as you studied at him with a hopeful, supplicating smile, your head shook and your lips parted as if to call out to him and the power he lacked to leave you filled him suddenly. Like a flash of lightning in a storm he disappeared from your eyes.

Citizens will often recall the days when it rained with an intensity of a woeful god, and can’t help but notice the mysterious man who would leave the room every time your name was mentioned.

Scara

Cool -- cool, cool, cool - you’re a divine being - bet

It’s very likely that Scara will be excited about this revelation - he already thinks so highly of himself that knowing that he has captured the affection of a god only swells his pride more than it already did

He’s so smug when you tell him, when you spill to him what you are - he doesn't believe it either and will make you demonstrate that power to him and if you look back at him after your display, you’ll see him with a devious grin

Be careful, he may manipulate you to act as an extension of his wishes -- and if he has any vengeance to enact on the people who harmed him, you’ll have to be very strong in your convictions (though, you can do whatever you’d like honestly, you a god)

“Again.” Scara commands, his arms crossed over his chest, head tilted up so he can look at you from his perch on the rock and a smile stretched so far across his face you wonder how his lips don’t steam in pain.

“I’ve already shown you multiple times. Do you still not believe me?” You huff, resting your hands on your hips, adamant that you won’t comply with his request.

“Okay okay, I’m convinced.” He shrugs, hoping off of his stoop and walking toward you. “So how long have you been a god?”

“I don’t know, it’s hard to keep track of the years … though I’d say around 500.”

“Interesting. Can you make me a god?”

“No, I don’t have that authority.”

“Disappointing, but oh well.” He stopped just before you, he was shorter than you so you looked down at him, thankful that he removed his hat otherwise you’d have a hard time seeing his face. He reached for a strand of your long hair, his fingers twirling around it before sliding down the silky strands and repeating the process. “So, why did you decide to tell me this secret of yours?”

“I …” Why did you tell him? You knew what kind of person he was, you knew the actions that would follow - his greed and selfishness would motivate him to use this information for his own advantage. “Against my better judgement, I told you because I love you.” You cover your face with your hand, embarrassed by the confession. It’s the first time you’ve ever fallen in love with a human before, Scara was your first and that notion electrified your skin.

“You love me?” You didn’t need to see him to catch the cocky attitude spilling from him.

“I do …” You replied with a sigh.

“Who would have thought that?” “Listen, if you’re going to make fun of me then I’ll just …” Your voice was cut off by Scara pulling you toward him and pressing his lips against your own. Your knees nearly gave way at the contact and you reached to his arms to stabilize yourself. His lips are thin and the power he uses, the pressure of the kiss tells you what kind of man he is.

“This is excellent news, don’t think I’ll let you get away from me now.” He hummed, his lips dancing over your own as he spoke, his breath warming your skin. Was this really the best human that could have stolen your heart? Well, you were sure it wouldn’t be borning.

Childe

He’s likely indifferent to your real status - to find out that you’re an archon or a god - he’s almost unsurprised by the news

You wonder if he didn’t already know that you weren’t human, you wouldn’t put it past him to have done some digging on you and after being alive for so long it was bound to be suspicious that you knew things that many people didn’t anymore -- it was also suspicious that Zhongli seemed to recognize you pretty quickly, his eyes shining as if he saw an old friend

“You could have just told me.” Childe emphasized, crossing his arms and leaning against the large pole behind him.

“I know … but, well I wasn’t really planning on sticking around.”

“Oh, so you’re one of those.”

“Ah, no! That’s not what I meant.” For being of reverence, you always found yourself stumbling over your words when talking to Childe. “Ugh, I meant that I didn’t think that … well that I’d fall in love with a human.” You picked at your clothes and shook your head.

“If there was ever a human for you to fall head over heels for, I am the best candidate for that.” You looked at him, laughing at the way he pointed his thumbs at his chest and grinned from his own joke.

“I don’t know … maybe I made a mistake?” You express, rubbing your chin with your hands.

“Hey now!”

“I’m joking of course … so, you really aren’t … upset?”

“Why would I be upset?” He asked, eyes furrowing and head tilting to the side.

“I don’t know … my timeline is different from yours for one.”

“So. That doesn’t matter to me.”

“There will be a day when you’ll be old and I won’t have aged a day.”

“Don’t care.” You huff and take a few steps away from him. He didn’t seem to grasp what it meant to be in love with a god. This was the reason you rarely took human companions, the guilt in your heart at watching them age and the pain of losing them was all a strain on your heart.

“Childe …” You begin again but as you turn to face him you notice he��s moved from his place and is now standing in front of you.

“I don’t care who you are, what you are, or what you’ve done.” He takes your hand and brings it to his lips, his breath of humanity filling your very soul. “I love you, and I don’t take that feeling lightly.”

“I don’t want you to regret choosing a partner who cannot live a normal human life.”

“If I wanted a normal life, I wouldn’t be where I am to begin with. What I want is you, and I’m pretty good at getting what I want.” He smirked and kissed each knuckle on your hand. How was it that a man could bring down a god so easily?

“Now, the real question …” Childe’s tone shifted, his body extended to his full height which made you tilt your head to look at him. “Do you still have your divine powers or whatever?”

“Like …?”

“Like, can you summon lightning or manipulate the earth with a snap of your fingers?”

“Haha, oh, I still have my abilities, yes. There were times I had to fight, so I’ve adapted them for those purposes.”

“Excellent.” He grabbed your wrist and pulled you along after him. “Let’s fight, don't hold back.”

“Childe! That’s dangerous.”

“Even better.” He gave you a quick wink before dragging you to a place where the two of you could engage in the battle of his dreams.

#genshin impact #genshin impact X reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact musings #genshin impact fiction #dainsleif #genshin impact dainsleif #genshin scaramouche #genshin impact scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #dainsleif x reader #childe X reader #childe #genshin childe #scaramouche

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sunlessea · 2 years ago

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in truth, he doesn't think the clarification on divinity's part even matters. it is incredibly selfish, of course, to think as much : however somber the facts of it, that is what he, isidorios, the elegiast, works so diligently to uphold. "maybe it would've been for the best i was damned. my life wasn't worth remembering." he realizes only after he says it, then, how terribly macabre that must be to hear. he closes his lips, eyes narrowing 'gainst the tears that sting them. he hadn't meant for it to sound that way. "the truth is that i just didn't want to feel alone anymore. i don't know if i was really searching for deliverance or an excuse not to go through with it." he recovers, albeit quietly, with no lack of tremble 'gainst his voice. "t'would only be fitting that, in the end, i was the one who didn't notice you. i came to you praying for kindness when i killed myself, and in doing so blinded myself each time you attempted to reach out to me. i'm a fucking idiot." they stare so very intently at his sleeve, head shifting to rest their cheek 'gainst his chest, now. they can hear his heartbeat. he smiles, solemnly. oh, but he is so very jealous of him, then.

he sighs, but knows there is no use trying to steady himself. so he doesn't. instead, he stays like this, allows his weight to fall into the god who yet steadies him, and oh, the irony of it all. he does fall silent, however, letting him speak rather than cutting in. he isn't sure what he'd expected ... mayhaps he had been waited for excuses, or lies, or further revelation. in that regard, he supposes he is to be disappointed, though he believes he finds comfort in it, the same he does the fingers that card through his hair, so messy from his run here, near untied from its ribbon. his expression softens, unsure, but attentive, and his fingers at last begin to loosen their grip 'pon the fabric of his suit. for the best is it : they'd begun to ache quite terribly. "it wasn't for the sake of my comfort that i let you lie to me, or even accused you of being malkavian. i knew you weren't. we can smell other vampyr, douce colombe ... i was protecting you. i thought—... i thought you were kine. human." it's embarrassing now, acknowledging it. but how was he supposed to know he had thought a god of the glory to be mortal man? at the time, the protection had felt warranted. now he feels stupid.

he does not veer into further discussion of it, however. the masquerade, for once, is so blissfully far from his mind. he can feel him looking at him, instinct that makes a self conscious chill rush 'long his spine. but he dutifully, stubbornly, refuses to look up at him, now boring a hole into his sleeve. he swallows, hard, but no amount of emotional preparation, joke that it is now, could have prepared him for the confession he imparts 'pon him now. fitting should it be he jolts himself up without intent to do so, eyes wide even as the elegiast's hands travel to their face. it is humiliating, the way they sputter, lips parting in blatant disbelief : already, his own voice is screaming in his mind that he must have misheard him! "i—what—what—what do you mean you've never—?! a—are you making fu—" he stops himself before he says it, the exclamation and situation far too familiar for his own taste ... but were it that his heart could thrum! so awkward are his hands in the space created between them now, not quite rested 'pon his chest any longer, but still held up in the air, and oh, they tremble. the very concept he could be anyone's first love, in that moment, it near enough to shatter him, and he is certain it shows in how emotionally he wilts.

however, he cannot bring himself to look away again. his hands are warm, even 'neath the gloves he wears, so lifeless is their own body. "i feel as if i'm hearing a confession i don't deserve," he breathes, voice cracking as it hits higher than intended, and in the end, he is meant to bite 'pon his lip to keep from sobbing. "i've not offered you anything to be gifted your heart so, i— dove, i am not a creature meant for such soft yearnings. holy or no, you are so much more than the tainted love—" i have to give you. such emotions, choked in his throat, are not new. it stands to reason, perhaps, he had always thought so, and no divine revelation had changed that. but still he looks 'pon him as he always had, even with tears in his eyes : adoringly, afraid, shy, but longing, for something he does not think he should have. and when he releases him, then, although certainly confused, he is thankful for the opportunity to look elsewhere, take a moment to catch his gentle breaths.

he does not stop him from his fretting, not sure what in the world he could be searching for. it gives him a second, however brief, to rest his hand over his dead heart once more, furrow his brows 'gainst the feelings that war within him. he wholeheartedly believes what he says : he is not enough, not good enough, for someone like this. he knows what they are, an unholy amalgamation of a monster that had not lived in centuries, had not experienced emotion aside from reflection for just as long, and yet. he swallows, presses his lips thin against the ache in his chest, and glances to him as he grows more frantic. and yet, he loves him. it is not a holy love, not an innocent one. it cannot be, when sourced from a kindred, an insane malkavian. but he does, in a way he cannot rightly remember having ever felt, in spite of their kind's afflictions.

"you..." he is forced out of his reverie, attention turning back to who, for all intents and purposes ... is his beloved. then, to the box he holds in his hands. "a ... gift?" he doesn't react at first, as he so oft tends not to, when people give him things. he's said it before ... how he dislikes receiving gifts, when he is in a position not to return a favor. but he doesn't scold him, only stares at it for a moment prior to reaching for it, when beckoned to do so. he holds it, tries to wipe his tears 'gainst the lace of his top by pressing his cheek into his shoulder. for all the good it does. he feels knots in his stomach, anxiety in his chest, but there's embarrassment throughout : he'd fall into himself, if he could. crawl away and disappear, if only because he doesn't know what to do when he's the center of his attention like this. "don't look at me like that," he comments, shyly, but rather than lament it, he simply ... opens the gift. lucky is he, in all honesty, that he does not drop it. shock catches him the moment he sees what it is.

oh.

"this—" bewildered is he, and so very thankful, in that moment, to be kindred. his legs, he thinks, would have given up 'neath the weight of the emotion that floods him, had he not been. it is so rightfully intense, it fools him, for far more than it should, into making him think that he is feeling it, in that moment. "you ... you remembered—" oh, how could he not, how oft they had lamented it, such is his job. but they tear their gaze away from the beauty of the flute that lay perfectly in that box then, stare at him now as if they are seeing him for the first time.

"this isn't fair..." their voice breaks, half sob, half laugh, but they have to grip the box tightly, scared are they that they are going to end up falling. so literally, so metaphorically. "how? how am i meant to stand against you? how am i meant to stand here and fight that i am a loveless creature, weather such gestures of blatant romanticism and pretend i have not myself dreamt of such things? i love you and it isn't fair! god, kine, kindred, is not even what ails me, do you understand?! colombe d'ivoire, i don't know anymore from where the reflection of my emotions originate! i don't know if i have ever felt this way, and i—!" they do not know what to do with it. it scares them. "you knew what i was, from the very beginning, despite omitting your own identity. how am i meant to stand here and tell you, then, that i am not meant to be yours when you had already decided? i wanted to be saved, knowing full well that whomsoever answered my prayers would be beyond what i deserved and yet—" oh, he is falling apart. looking back to the flute, he takes it into his hand then, delicately, as he so rarely does. "this is beautiful. you are beautiful and i deserve neither—and yet! and yet..." he is dreadfully close to sniffling, and it disgusts him. so pathetic, then, is the giggle that he lets out, broken. "une créature dépourvue de dieu, tombant amoureuse d'un dieu. je t'aime. je t'aime si profondément que je ne sais pas quoi faire. que voudrais-tu, colombe d'ivoire, me faire faire? savoir ce que je suis, qui je suis. tu as quand même choisi de m'avoir, peu importe, n'est-ce pas?"

he expects his solemn demeanor is likely not what is appropriate for such intimate confession, but truth, as he does expect they are both aware : is that he already knew. they were not the first to pray to him in hopes of not being forgotten, and they would also not be the first he would have spared, had they ... no, he won't think of that. " in part. " he clarifies, instead, tries in increasingly desperate earnest, to keep the sorrow that swims alongside his love from settling anywhere other than his heart. " i remember, simply. those the world does not, or rather does not wish to. both, and then more than that. i preserve their memory, their lives, so that they will never be forgotten. to my understanding, the world has taken it 'pon themselves to think it is loss, sacrifice, death that i revere. it is not— i think ... " he pulls his jaw tight, eyes narrowing as he looks 'pon them. perhaps it is a sad sort of existence, to some, but to himself ... he offers them the smallest, most sympathetic of smiles. " i think life is a terribly precious thing. and that every one person deserves to be remembered, to have their story told. to know, at the very least, someone is always looking out for them. " the way he speaks ... when he does, it feels as if it is directed far more personally. a promise of sorts, rather than a long-winded explanation of his own eternal life's work.

no part of him could have anticipated the reaction he would be met with, meanwhile : he could have scried, true, but it would not have been fair to him. to himself, as he was, and to his trust ... he had put his faith in him both man and divine, wicked would it have been to have stripped him of deciding his own fate. he'd anticipated a strong emotion, at the most, but that was hardly more than common sense; what, specifically, his disciple then could have felt ... remained a mystery. a talking point caught on birdsong, used to tease the ivory dove then over tea, but no more than rumor and intrigue, for no god had expected the dove to willfully spring from its roost, to spread its wings and discover more than what he witnessed nestled safe within his own confines. but no one was more shocked than the ivory dove, himself : both for the warmth that swelled in his heart, and the way his lover practically clings to him, weeping, wondering.

" omitted, yes, it was a necessary measure in the moment. i always intended to tell you, when the time was right. the rest ... " from cradling their chin to combing through their hair, it'd almost seem as if he were coddling were his expression not as equally tender as the tone of his voice. though the syllables scratch, ache, there is no denying the sweet lilt hanging off every word. " truthfully, the only lie i ever told was that of being kindred. and even that was not original intent, i hadn't the faintest idea what you asked, back when, but it seemed to excite you ... please understand, it has been quite some time since i've been participant in broader society, i had assumed the sense of familiarity would then comfort you, which is what i wished to do. " they may not meet his gaze, but that does not stop him from seeking it, his own kept half-lidded. his heart aches the same it does whenever he retells a tragedy, but it is not tragic to love, to admit to what little he deceived. but more than that, he thinks, he feels quite terrible sorry : their life has been filled with tragedies, both from what they had shared, and what he had seen. " i have lived and died a hundred thousand lives, mon cher. carried the memories through times where they would have otherwise been left forgotten. i do not know why i have, but i do know i was the same in each. the weight a little heavier, perhaps, more than a single quill can write in one night, but my heart has never changed. what i expressed ... what i feel, it is true. in those hundred thousand lives, never had i loved, nor thought to. and then i met you, and i was undone. "

he thinks there is a part of him fearful he is yet being too forward, touching him as if he might break—up both hands have traveled, space returned, to cradle his face in his palms, hold it where he speaks to him with an almost desperate urgency. " summer, mon amour, if there were but means to show you the inner workings of my heart, allow you witness to all it holds, i would show you just how deeply i love you, i would�� " he stops himself rather abruptly, gloved hands trailing free from where he holds their head upright, a sort of slow dawning realization falling across his own features as his voice draws to whisper and then nothing at all. if i could show you ... " i can show you! ah— bear with me a moment, please, just a moment, i was saving this for—! "

the moment memory returns to him he pulls completely away from him, and instead, rustles with the inner pockets of his pristine ivory coat. he looks ... frantic, mostly, but also quite excited. whatever it was, it was something quite important indeed. he's rather lucky to not be all feathered still, for with all his ruffling the room would be filled with them flying 'round their heads. " ah, here it is! " it feels like an eternity of looking through pockets that should, by all accounts, not be able to hold the size of the box he'd just pulled out of it—there's a solid minute, at least, when he first holds out the long box with both hands, where there is a brilliant, wide grin to match the light dancing behind his eyes before he gets too shy and it softens instead, as embarrassment slowly, but surely, overcomes him. " a ... gift. please take it. "

#summer popping off w the content #thank you summer #` ✞ summer. ⁞ my soul cries for deliverance‚ return to me salvation.#` ✞ elegiast & summer. ⁞ dreams of a prince with feathers of an ivory dove fly like a spirit through these heaven’s halls.#remember when we used to shut the fuck up

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mybeautifulchristianjourney · 2 years ago

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Sin and Sovereignty

The question is often raised, “How did sin and evil arise in God’s creation?” If God is absolutely sovereign, absolutely holy, and absolutely good, if he created all things good, how is it that pride was found in Lucifer’s heart? How were the fallen angels led to rebel against his throne? How was Adam seduced to sin?

The existence of evil is a problem which vexes our minds continually. We must, whenever considering such a subject, at once, as Toplady put it, “clip the wings of curiosity.” Knowing that God is not the author of sin, and that He never tempts any to evil (James 1:13-17), knowing that nothing comes to pass without His all-wise decree, the matter cannot be resolved in a more God honoring way than to use the words of our Lord as the expression of submissive faith, “Even so, Father, for so it seemed good in thy sight.”

We bow before God in reverent submission and confess in the words of one who lived long ago, “Lord, I am darkness, but thou art light.” Before Him of whom are all things, we acknowledge our utter ignorance. We must be content to wait until our souls are freed from the influence of evil in the world above to know the mind and purpose of God in permitting the evil which yet engulfs our minds. Still, two things we know by divine revelation.

God’s Glory

Everything God does, or permits, or allows, He ordained from eternity and brings to pass in time to show forth the greatness of His glory (Romans 11:33-36; Ephesians 1:11-12; Revelation 5:13). It appears, then, that the perfections of God could not have been so gloriously revealed, as they now are in Christ, had evil never entered the universe. God all-wise ordained sin and evil that He might use it and overrule it to His own everlasting praise (Psalms 76:10). Had sin never entered into the world, how could the justice of God be known in punishing it? Had evil never existed, how could the wisdom of God be seen overruling it? Had sin never entered the world, how could the goodness of God be made manifest in pardoning and forgiving it? Had there never been any wickedness in God’s creation, how could the power of God be revealed in subduing it?

Our Good

Without question, all evil in the world is included in the “all things” which work together for the everlasting good of God’s elect (Romans 8:28-30). The fall of our father Adam and the entrance of sin into the world by him was one of the countless links of providence essential to Christ’s incarnation and crucifixion for the redemption of His people. To suggest, as many ignorantly do, that the fall was not purposed by God, is to assert that the incarnation, birth, life, death, resurrection, and glory of Christ, and the salvation of His people by virtue of His obedience as our Substitute is all, from beginning to end, the result of chance, luck, or blind fate.

O my heavenly Father, from the depths of my soul, I thank you for the knowledge that “all things are of God.” Give me grace ever to walk in this great light.

#Sin and Sovereignty

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greengrungeemo · 3 years ago

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“We can start our life over as many times as we want!! We might make a lot of mistakes and hurt ourselves, but that lets us become the people we want to be...! You fall once or twice in your life, but that’s life.” - Keiichi Maebara.

I... admittedly completed this chapter sometime last month, but I needed a lot of time to process it. This will be a quick analysis on Higurashi When They Cry - Chapter 6. As strange as it is to say, this one may be my favorite one yet. I feel as though there was an incredible level of revelation in this. This analysis will contain spoilers!!

---

That being said, I strongly feel that Rena Ryuugu and Keiichi Maebara are heroes. Some may find that ridiculous, why would you? Some may feel there’s nothing special in them, or that they’re simply hormonal students. However, despite the overdramatized level of fiction in this chapter’s story, there is an underlying and intensely “real” element. Such as, losing yourself, losing your mental acuity, becoming delusional or losing touch with reality, to sin, to doubt, to lose trust in others who love you... to forgive. It’s a powerful message.

We build connections expecting a level of perfection in others. I.E: To be my friend, you must meet my expectations, if you do A, B, or C, I will leave and find someone else. Fact of the matter is, we all sin and hurt ourselves and others, so why is there such standardized cruelty? When should we forgive, and when should we leave? When should we put ourselves in other people’s shoes, and when should we look after ourselves first and foremost?

Even Rika Furude who is discovered to be almost divine in some way, a time keeper of sorts, a traveler of cosmos... she gave up on this world’s Rena. She notices Keiichi remembering his past life though, which is a huge development! (Side note: Rika is a proven badass as seen in that first screenshot!) Keiichi was also the one who boasted the true realization. The kind that forms goodness in oneself and others. He never gave up on the one that he loved. Let’s look at the facts, Rena, in her delusional state, traumatized Keiichi. She harshly brought up his past, and threatened to tell the rest of their friends of what he did. This was something Keiichi wanted to break free from, and it was a past he already deeply regretted. That trauma even gaslit him to feel as though he *needs* to confess and tell all of his friends. So he did. Mion, Satoko, and Rika all reacted accordingly. In short, “you can tell us whatever you need to, and we’ll listen - but you don’t need to reveal everything bad about you.” It’s true. If you’ve already grown from your past, you don’t need to bring it up with every new person you meet as a way to be transparent with your friendship. I’ve done precisely as Keiichi did, and my current friends all reacted the same way. They already see the grown version of me, so knowing about a past version of myself and all of the sins that I’ve done at that time - is unnecessary to know. I’m still glad I told them since it’s a way for me to continue building myself and to show them that I’m not infallible.

That’s what this chapter had shown. Someone like Rena Ryuugu isn’t infallible either, she hid a lot of her inner struggles. She began experiencing delusions, and that is a VERY scary thing. You’re not mentally aligned with reality, and you lose a sense of self. Have you noticed that Rena’s inner dialogue begins pink in color, but changes its tone to a darker and darker red/orange? That represents her mental descendance. She chose to encounter this alone, since she didn’t think that she could rely on her friends. Thankfully, Keiichi helped her realize that he was her best friend on the planet, and her equal through and through. To do this for someone who’s losing themselves mentally, this means the world.

The best scene is one I call, the battle of passion. A deadly battle to the death, a blunt weapon versus a bladed one. Two best friends, one focused and determined to rescue the other, and the other fully lost to the perils of their own mind and lack of sanity. Who wins?

In it, they are fully focused on the battle at hand, and eventually, they become focused on each other. Rena realizes how much fun she’s having with Keiichi at that moment in time, and that realization helps her break free from her delusions. Why worry about what my mind is telling me, or what my obsessions/compulsions are pushing on me, when I can focus on the present moment with the one I love? That’s the mental seed that began to sprout anew for Rena, with Keiichi’s careful reinforcement as evidenced by their dialogue, “You know, I don’t think I even care about aliens or parasites anymore. If the world is going to perish, go ahead and perish. Who cares about the conspiracy of the Three Families, anyway?” Rena says. Keiichi reinforces with, “Hey, that’s the scenario you came up with, don’t forget. Come on, scratch your throat once in a while, at least!! Hey, I know, it doesn’t itch anymore, does it? It definitely doesn’t!!” This may seem like a form of manipulation at a glance, but in truth, it’s a helpful way of assisting someone out of their delusion. Keiichi knows this, and it works.

Rena realizes that if she succeeds this battle to the death, it’s not fun if she wins. They even made winning conditions. If Keiichi wins, his perverted fantasy of having a Rena servant for the rest of his days comes true. If Rena wins, she kills Keiichi. She admits this to him. He’s a brilliant friend with how he talks her down next, she says, “.....Boo, boo. It’s not fun if I win.” He replies, “Then what do you want to change it? What do you want?”

That’s all you need when you’re mentally lost. If the outcome is becoming something you don’t end up wanting, then what do you want in order to change it in a positive light? How will you change it? What steps do you need to take to do so?

Rena brilliantly admits her wish, and it made me cry my eyes out. “You don’t have to be my maid. But the rest is the same. I want you to say ‘good morning’ to me every morning and ‘good night’ every night. I want you to treat me well and let me play around all the time.” It doesn’t take rocket science to ascertain what she means, as it appears to be an admission of her true love to him. It’s clear she romanticizes frequently, and I wholeheartedly believe Rena deserves a true love. She isn’t asking for much, either. To be treated well, and to feel loved.

She finally overcomes her delusion and breaks free from it. She relinquishes her weapon and admits to Keiichi in the pale moonlight that she was wrong. As Keiichi mentioned himself, this takes an enormous amount of strength to do. It’s difficult to admit you were wrong, especially when the sin committed is one to feel especially ashamed of.

Despite her massive sins, Keiichi saw the gleaming inner beauty that Rena Ryuugu possesses. Beyond her mental destruction, there’s so much beautiful characteristics that outshine all of that bad stuff. He realizes how valuable and special she is, so it would be stupid to not forgive and leave her behind. He put himself in her shoes, he forgave her, and he helped her realize that she’s beyond her delusions, kept her grounded, and got her back on her feet. That’s the ultimate friend. We all need a Keiichi in our lives, just like how we need a Rena in our lives. She’s perceptive, and knows what you’re thinking and feeling before you even admit it to her. He’s understanding and instantly empathizes with those he loves and springs into action to help.

They both won. They are good people, and they are beyond their sins.

Just like you reading this.

You are beyond any mistake you’ve made, and if you regret it and reacted accordingly to it - built yourself up and grew from it. Learned from it and apologized genuinely for it... then there’s nothing to worry about. It took me over a year to realize everything in my life. What I had, what I’ve lost, what I’ve done wrong, who I hurt, how much I love them, and how I grew to prevent anything like that from happening again. I soared from my sins, and I pray and very much hope you do or have done as well. I broke free from my delusions as Rena had, and I strive to be someone as supportive as Keiichi was for her in that moment.

Please forgive yourself. Please forgive others. Be sincerely gentle and caring, and that’s all there is to it.

#higurashi when they cry #higurashi #visual novel #video games #Rena Ryuugu #keiichi maebara #Rika Furude

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mmvalentine · 3 years ago

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What Cardan Knows | Jurdan

Canon compliant I suppose, just more post-QoN nonsense. Smut aplenty.

Cardan knows a secret about Jude.

Knows she likes to be kissed right between the shoulder blades.

Knows that if you move your lips on the vertebra that sticks out at the base of her neck, she melts like chocolate in the summer sun.

Jude has spent today, like many days, sitting on her throne like she was born there. There is something so natural in the way that she rules the fae that never came quite so easy to Cardan. He feels more comfortable next to her now than he ever thought he would. Still. He does not think he relishes the power like Jude does.

And of course Jude looks spectacular while she does it. Cardan reclines in his own throne, throwing one leg over an armrest and letting his head fall back against the back. He watches Jude, straight backed and imperious, as she hands down stern judgement for a faerie who stole a human child. She had outlawed changelings since she has been Queen, and although the folk do not like it, they abide by her word.

Cardan finds it sexy that the court is still a little afraid of Jude. Cardan finds it sexy that this sharp and unyielding ruler is his alone to unravel. Later.

Jude does not like anyone to know that she can be tender. Even now, years after she’s gained the loyalty of her court, she avoids being vulnerable. Puts on her armour every morning to meet her subjects, her advisors, and even her sisters. Oak might be an exception. And Cardan, when he knows where to fit his myriad keys.

These are not things Jude has ever told him out loud. Not even to her husband would she confess the chinks in her armour aloud. But Cardan knows anyway. Knows the secret places she keeps her softness, and delights in uncovering them when they are alone in the safety of the dark of their bedroom. Only when she is sure no one is looking does she bare her underbelly to him and let him press toothy kisses there. Cardan loves when Jude is ruthless. Cardan loves when Jude is soft.

Now Jude is sending the faerie away and the fae dislike her changing the rules. But she hands out cruelty like treats in the throne room and so they still adore her. A good public punishing is as good as trading babies. There is a hard glint in Jude’s eye as she watches him go, and then she flicks her wrist and the revelry begins once again. It’s all so simple. She looks out at the crowd with a cold boredom on her face, but Cardan knows she’s riding a high from watching her own orders executed. He also knows it turns her on like nothing else.

And so Cardan pushes himself up off his bramble throne, leans over to his wife with his back to the court, and murmurs, “take your leave my Queen, for I have business with you elsewhere.”

Jude’s lip curls when she answers, and her voice trickles like ice water over his skin. “I do not attend your bidding my Lord, I would stay to see the end of the revel.”

“Nevertheless,” Cardan says, and his fingers slide down her wrist to read her telltale pulse. “I have business with you elsewhere.”

And although Jude does delight in denying her husband, she rarely denies herself. So she rises smoothly while Cardan watches with one eyebrow raised, and allows him to take her hand and lead her into the alcove behind the throne room.

Cardan shuts the door and the noise outside suddenly chokes off. He turns and Jude is staring at him with her chin up in her regal golden gown, and she is resplendent.

“Well?” She demands. “What is it you wish to discuss so urgently?”

“First,” Cardan purrs, “I mean this to be an informal meeting, since you and I are wed and need not stand on ceremony. Let me remove your formal attire.” He walks behind her and Jude’s head turns, but she doesn’t otherwise move. Cardan’s movements are careful as he removes the heavy crown from Jude’s head; he has had his fingers bitten for this before.

But Jude does not react, so he goes for the heavy collar of gold plates she wears, unhooking the clasp and lifting it carefully from her shoulders. Next is the fastening in the back of her bodice, and even as she is undressed Jude’s spine remains as straight as the sword at her hip.

There have been times where she fucks him just like that. With steel in her eyes and Cardan’s throat between her fingers, when she holds him down with her thighs and draws his rapture from his lips like she can summon his very soul.

But today Cardan wants to pull at Jude’s threads and unspool her at his feet. So he stands behind her, and kisses her like feathers in that secret spot of hers. In between her scapulae. Traveling up toward the bones of her neck. And infinitesimally, Jude’s shoulders loosen beneath his touch.

Cardan smiles against her skin as his fingers skim the outside edge of her bare arms, and she leans her head back toward him so his lips can better reach her throat. When her eyes slide closed, Cardan pulls the tie of her skirt and it pools around her feet. He lifts her out of it and by the time her weight is in his arms, Jude is pliant against his chest.

Cardan lays Jude down on the low couch, and in the moment between kisses where his tongue lifts off her skin and his teeth touch down elsewhere, he whispers honeyed pet-names to her. "Ruthless," he calls her sweetly. He moves down her belly. "Unscrupulous. Uncompromising. Without mercy. Immovable."

At the last, he curls his tongue in the apex of her thighs, and Jude lifts her hips to his mouth with a soft cry. She is not immovable, and he knows it. His tail wraps around her ankle as her leg tries to jerk upward, and holds it in place. Cardan moves lazily, breathes steadily against the Queen and relishes in her slow undoing.

"Cardan," she whispers, and he hums with his lips on her pussy.

In fact, the real secret that Cardan knows is that Jude is not any of the things he calls her, and despite the way fae crave wickedness like opium, it is the very heart of Jude that he loves the most.

"Will you punish me, too?" Cardan asks her. His face moves up her body but one of his fingers replace his tongue inside her and Jude is not able to answer him. "If I confess my sins to you will you hand down my own judgement?"

"Did you steal any children away?" Jude manages to ask him, but her breathing is coming in short pants and her voice is strained.

"No," Cardan laments. "Although I think I would enjoy having a pet."

Jude's eyes flash, but Cardan makes one finger two and her words don't make it out.

"My sins," Cardan tells her, and then leans close to admit it in her ear while his hand speeds up between her legs. "are so numerous as to be unforgivable." He even sounds a little sad, and Jude's eyes open.

"There is always mercy," she breathes.

"Then forgive me, my saint," Cardan says, and then twists his fingers and presses down on her clit at the same time, so Jude climaxes suddenly and unexpectedly. Her lovely brown eyes widen in surprise and her lips part in bliss, and before she has come all the way down Cardan removes his fingers and slides his cock into her even as she shudders and spasms.

Cardan barely moves before Jude is coming again, and the waves of it around him are exquisitely divine. He moans his pleasure as he sinks into her again and again, and revels in the Queen laid bare. His hips kiss hers and it is in this space he finds his absolution daily. For as hard and uncaring as Jude is not, so is Cardan secretly not so unaffected or shameless as he makes out to be.

And as Jude wraps her legs around his waist, and her hands around the back of his neck pull his forehead down to hers, he wonders if this is what Jude knows, too.

Cardan moves his lips against Jude's neck and the increasingly irregular rhythm of his hips matches the erratic beating of his heart, and when Jude's teeth bite into his throat as if to suckle at his lifeblood, he comes hard buried deep inside her.

Minutes later, the King and Queen of Elfhame are still tangled together on the couch. Jude's head is on Cardan's chest and he has the sharp claw tip of a fingernail circling against her shoulder. A faint bruise is blooming on his throat, and the tip of his tail is brushing against her elbow.

"Shall we return you to the revel, my love?" Cardan asks her. Jude looks at him, then stands fluidly and holds her chin up and her arms out.

"Dress me, husband," she commands, and Cardan picks up her clothes off the floor and puts everything back on. Piece by piece, layer by layer, fingers meticulous. Pinning her hair and fastening the scabbard by her waist. Jude is still like a mannequin, and when he is done she lowers her arms and sweeps out of the room without a backward glance.

Cardan straightens his own clothes, plonks his crown back on his head and then saunters back out to the thrown room. Jude is already being offered a selection of the fattest, sweetest grapes and she spears them with a fine dagger before she puts them to her kiss-swollen lips. And when she drags the knife point back out of her mouth, he doesn't know whether he'd rather be the blade or the fruit.

Either way, he is more than content to spend the rest of the night watching Jude rule the fae with an iron fist, as his kisses fade on her skin.

****

Sorry that was so curly! When I started writing Jurdan I just thought I would write these snarly, snappy creatures but it turns out I'm just a sucker for them shedding their skins when they're alone. Also, I planned on writing hardcore smut and all that came out was... intense feels? What is happening?

MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @asteria-of-mars @swankii-art-teacher @loosingdreams @feysand-loml @cityofbookish

*NOTE* I have two entirely separate masterlists/ taglists for my feysand and jurdan stuff!! Hope this makes it all easy to navigate!

#jurdan #jurdan fic #smut #mine

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anyoneseenadam · 4 years ago

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That fenrys fic was divine 😭🔥 can I request something for him having a nightmare for the first time since he found his mate and she comforts him and reassure him ?a tiny bit of angst maybe 💔🤧

pairing: Fenrys x reader (throne of glass)

warnings: blood, violence, nightmares, character death (kinda), mainly fluff with a lil bit of angst

a/n: I completely stole the first half of this from a short story I wrote about Achilles lmao, also THANK YOU FENRYS IS AN ICON AND DESERVES ALL THE LOVE WHICH I AM HAPPY TO GIVE, hope u enjoy <3

(I did not proof read this because I am tired :))

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Fenrys hands shook as they refrained from touching her, from pulling her in and wrapping himself around her, drowning in her hair, her skin, her clothes, her laugh, eyes, smile. She turned with a smirk and a cheeky eyebrow raise, beckoning him in. He lunged, grabbing her, ready to make true on his wish, staring in wonder as her solid form turned to mist in his hands as she moved further away. Her laugh drawing him in. And of course, he followed like the lost puppy he was, begging, and whining to return to comfort, home, safety. She was his home, and he would follow her to the ends of the world if it meant she stayed that way.

She had moved again, this time into a series of winding corridors, the maze he called his heart, a maze she owned. He chased after her, but she was quick, twisting and turning through corridors and secret doors, the map laid bare for her to see as he stumbled blinding, led only be the light she left in her path and her infectious laughter. Finally, she reached a dead end, casually bracing herself against the cold walls, releasing an exhale of laughter through her nose. He slowed his pace to a walk as she smiled up at him through curling lashes, nothing but the faint smudge of rouge high on her cheeks concealing her natural face to him, which he proceeded to wipe with his thumb when he reached her, his build towering over hers.

“Finished running, are you?” he mused quietly,

“I knew you wouldn’t let me get too far,” she whispered back, lips tracing his jaw.

“That’s because you hold my leash,” he allowed himself to concede, “always have, always will my darling.”

She let out a sigh of agreement, before leaning to his ear, their bodies pressed so tightly together he could feel her heart beating in his own chest, as if they had swapped hearts giving the other all they were, all they could be.

“There is no me without you.” She uttered the vows they had made that beautiful day, where she dressed as the angel he was sure she was. He leaned down to express his love, but she did not allow him to rest in her arms for long, pulling away with a giggle.

“What?” he asked with a smirk, but she was already gone giggling behind him, the chase beginning again.

But as he turned, blessed by the smile she gave him, all pearly white teeth and rosy cheeks, the warning shout he cried was not quick enough as a wash of deep red replaced the once pure and untainted white of her smile. Her mouth filling with blood, the sword protruding from her stomach like a handle. She stared at him questions not asked soon enough as she splutters up blood onto her previously fresh clothes, eyes full of fear, splitting his heart in half, the ground crumbling beneath his feet.

He tried to run to her, hands grasping at air as he fell through the cracks in his own heart, a scream tearing from his throat as she was pulled from him, skin draining of colour and eyes turning black, full of hatred and contempt as she stared him down.

His own scream woke him up, sweat and tears blending on his face like paint on a pallet, as he gripped her pillow and sobbed on their bed. He herded himself into the far corner of the bed, afraid when he realised she was not lying next to him, comforting words, and gentle hands ready to lull him back to sleep. Fear and sadness battled in his heart, the heart he had given her during the war, the heart she had held safely as she cut her way through armies to reach him again. The heart she had put back together with soft kisses and words of undying love. The heart she had tied to her own the day they wed and had kept pressed safely in her chest since.

He looked now, tears blurring the image he was presented with, bookshelves filled with stories you promised you would read eventually, tubes of lipstick on the floor next to the frame of their mirror, tea left to go cold in mugs dotted around the room, sketches left to be forgotten on desks and ribbons tied haphazardly around bed posts.

He saw all these signs of you, the clues you left him as he navigated your shared life. His eyes darted around the room, breath picking up when he couldn’t see you, pressing a hand to your side of the bed and finding it warm, his breathing only slowing a little.

He stood, pulling on a pair of boxers, and grabbing two daggers he kept next to the bed as his mind filled with the worst possible scenarios. He slowly padded out the room, moving silently through the house and thinking of a million different ways to torture whoever had dared to touch you. The tears on his face had dried uncomfortably but it was the least of his worries as he stalked through his own home, fear clouding his judgement that argued you were probably safe.

He heard movement in the kitchen and walked that way, footsteps light as he rounded to corner to a beautiful sight. His arms dropped as he took in the sight of you in nothing but his shirt, sipping from a glass of water, illuminated by the moons glow. You turned when he walked in, smiling at his but furrowing your eyebrows when you saw his facial expression and the knives in his hands.

“Fenrys, what happened?” you asked, moving over to him as he threw his daggers down, arms encircling your waist as he breathed in your scent. “Fenrys please, you’re scaring me.”

He pulled away from you and you reached up, stroking a hand down his face and looking up at him with nothing but concern in your eyes, eyes that were searching his for any clues of why he was acting this way.

“I though you were- I thought someone had,” he struggled to get the words out, pulling you even closer, one hand tangling itself in your hair as you furrowed your eyebrows at him, kissing his sharp jaw.

“Slow down love, tell me what happened,” your soothing voice calmed him, his breath coming easier as you moved a hand to his shoulder, your loving grip grounding him.

“I had a dream, then I woke up and you weren’t hear and I- I thought someone had taken you,” he whispered, eyes filling with tears as he pictured your lifeless eyes and limp body.

“Oh my love, I’m sorry,” you pulled away from him, clasping his large hand in your smaller one and pulling him to your shared bedroom, “But you know I’m not easy to kidnap, I make too much noise.” You joked, holding his hand to your mouth, and kissing it lightly as you walked over to your bed.

He sat down first, and you stood between his legs, his arms wrapping tightly around you again. “Don’t joke about that,” he muttered into your stomach, but he couldn’t resist the smile forming.

You pushed his head back and climbed into his lap, arms resting on his shoulders. “I mean honestly, if I ever got taken hostage I’m pretty sure I’d annoy them into letting me go, I’d just start explaining my top three reasons why every Jane Austen novel contains gay subtext.”

“Or you could explain to them the tier list you and Aelin made of all the men you know.” Fenrys laughed as your eyes lit up.

“I forgot about that!” you exclaimed and Fenrys laughed, lying down, and pulling you with him as he tickled your sides, revelling in your squeals as you batted your hands at him.

When you calmed down, breathing quickly you rolled off Fenrys as he nestled himself between your breasts, holding you close.

“Please never leave me,” he whispered into your chest as he listened to the steady beat of your heart as it created a song just for him. The vulnerability in his voice broke you and you moved a hand to his head, stroking lightly.

“Never.” You spoke with such surety that Fenrys let out the exhale he had been holding in. “I am never going to leave you, I’m always going to be by your side.”

“I love you so much, so much when I thought you were gone, I felt sick. I can’t do this without you.” He whispered into your skin. “Sometimes I’m scared that one day I’ll wake up and all this will have been a dream. And I’ll have to lie with Maeve again and kill for her and watch her hurt Conall and it will be so much worse, because I’ll remember this softness, I’ll remember you and maybe one day I’d find you and you wouldn’t recognise me, and for the rest of my life I’d think of you, of the woman I never got to love.”

“This is real.” You whispered, kissing his head, and ignoring the tears welling in your eyes, “I’m real, you’re real. We’re real Fenrys.”

He didn’t reply, just buried his face deeper into your chest, addicted to the feel of your heartbeat. The constant reminder that you were here, you were alive. After he lost his brother you noticed Fenrys had become clingier, you initially presumed it was just because he was in mourning and needed comfort but one night he had drunkenly confessed his biggest fear to you. The nightmares he would have where you left him, told him you hated him, and the worst of all, the nightmares in which he watched your life be cruelly ripped from you. He could live with you hating him and leaving him, knowing that somewhere in the world you were safe and breathing, but everyday he feared your death.

The mornings he would wake up and find you wincing, a hot water bottle pressed into your lower stomach, the thought of you in any form of pain ripping into him, making his heartbeat faster and his palms sweat. The powerful warrior brought to his knees for you, but you were always quick to reassure him with kisses and promises of staying in bed all day.

As he breathed in your scent now and listened to your heartbeat, happily surrounded by you and only you, he allowed himself to relax under you soft touch, his own heart slowing to beat with yours as the fear slowly melted from him.

He needn’t fear your death, as he knew that he would never let you die. No, instead he would always fall before you, sacrifice his own life, any life if it meant you survived. You were a Goddess sent to bless him and he would fall to worship before you, always.

#acofas #acomaf #acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #acowar #acofs #acosf

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