#I understand now...This is the true anguish of the Passion...!

[numberonetraveleralmond]

If Bellini had known Tedesco since his own turbulent youth, it might have been something of a disaster.

In his youth, Bellini was far more irritable and sharp than he is now. Growing up as part of a conservative Italian community amidst the liberal atmosphere of New York, Aldo Bellini, who was gay, entered seminary and endured a tumultuous youth. 

Throughout his teens and twenties, there were people he felt drawn to, kissed, even had physical relationships with, but it was always followed by a sense of sin, and naturally, he could never let these relationships develop. Quite a few classmates left midway, but Bellini didn't. Because while his faith caused him anguish, it also offered him great solace... making it an object of both love and hate.

As time passed, Bellini came to understand that the interpretation of doctrine is also variable, gradually establishing his political stance and direction in doctrinal research as a scholar, and gaining supporters. The Bellini of today has mellowed considerably compared to his younger self. At the same time, the passion of his prime has somewhat faded, replaced by the ease of someone looking back on bygone days... But seeing Tedesco always brings back memories of that time. That man hasn't changed. Goffredo Tedesco, whom he first met in Italy during his youth tormented by passions, had a handsome shell but was the embodiment of a stubborn conservative at his core, and that remains true even now. It's just that the Bellini of back then lacked the composure to endure Tedesco. They clashed intensely in many ways... and decades passed like that.

After the conclave, Tedesco complains, swirling his wine glass. "Satisfied, Aldo? Now an even more radical wave will sweep the Church. This is the end times, I tell you." Bellini shrugs. "For you, perhaps." He smiles and tilts his own glass. "Isn't this just the flow of the times?" Seeing Bellini not retort sharply, Tedesco raises an eyebrow. Bellini always had a certain edge, and in his youth, it felt like he could cut you. Tedesco clicks his tongue. "My, Aldo. You've gotten old too. You used to have more bite. I thought you'd never age." Bellini scoffs. "Isn't it the same for both of us?"

Tedesco refills Bellini's glass as he speaks. "Well, Aldo. Perhaps it really is time for the likes of you and me to step down. Still, thanks to you, I managed to hold on for several decades." Bellini raises an eyebrow. Tedesco gestures flamboyantly. "Back then, I mean, long ago, when I first saw you. I thought you were an assassin or something, sent from that irritatingly progressive city to eliminate a traditionalist like me. And you could have, really, thanks to you." Bellini rolls his eyes. He feels the conversation heading somewhere uncomfortable. "What are you talking about, Goffredo? Have some confidence. You're the same now as you were then." Tedesco laughs, "Haha, yes, I'm the same. Though you seem to have changed quite a bit. Anyway, you won't be kissing me here in Rome anymore, will you?" Bellini briefly turns his gaze towards the distant piazza beyond. He just had to bring it up. The Tedesco of his youth was simultaneously a blockhead and sensual, stubborn yet strangely honest, and even with his fascia worn tightly, there was something oddly romantic about him. How could he be so endlessly conservative yet unreservedly free? Though he hated to admit it, the young Bellini was drawn to that, and hated it at the same time.

Kissing Tedesco back then was a kind of revenge, though they were both drunk. Tedesco didn't resist, and after their lips parted, he looked slightly dazed. Perhaps it was the alcohol, but Tedesco's cheeks were flushed, and maybe it was just the way his eyes were shaped, but he looked like someone who had just fallen in love. Is this what Italians are like? Tedesco always treated the New York-raised Bellini like a fake Italian, but this side of Tedesco was indeed something Bellini lacked, and in that moment, Bellini regretted his own cruelty. No matter if the other person was Tedesco, just because he was suffering didn't mean he should inflict it on someone else... The moment Tedesco started to speak, Bellini sincerely apologized. And for decades, neither of them ever mentioned it.

Bellini sighs. "I admit I acted despicably back then. I apologize." Tedesco smiles. "For which part? Kissing me? Or taking it back?" Bellini raises an eyebrow. "Look here, Goffredo. What is this, revenge?" Tedesco tilts his wine glass. "Revenge, Aldo? I'm grateful to you. Thanks to you, I wasn't eliminated back then and survived long enough to become a cardinal. All because you didn't wait for my answer."

"But Aldo," Tedesco smiles. "A true Italian, whether he's taken vows or not, knows what love is."

[traumacatholic]

I hold my faith first, or at least I hope I do and I aim to. It is what I try to do. But I feel very lonely in my faith, caught between it and my romantic desires as a lesbian woman. I am 26, and have never had that experience of romantic love, and it is starting to hurt more as I get older. I don’t know where I stand on any of it, I am just feeling deeply lonely, alienated from Catholics and alienated from other gay people and my atheist loved ones. Any prayers at all would be welcome, just well wishes, because I feel very alone.

I'm so very sorry to hear that you feel so alone, it's unfortunately very true that so often people end up feeling marginalised in their faith and in their sexuality (or other aspects of their identity). Have you tried involving yourself in any LGBT Christian organisations and communities? While they will not all (or even most) be Catholic, I think connecting with other religious people who are LGBT can be really helpful. Because there are a lot of other people in the same or similar boat, and they might have better advice for you and they can understand and relate to what you're going through more. You could consider having a search on the various tags on here to find some blogs you might want to connect with. And although online connections are quite different to having people offline to be friends with, they might still know resources and things you can do and access.

Find also the things about the faith that really speak to you and cling onto them. For some people that may be the Eucharist, for others the Mother of God, for others yet it may be a particular devotion. Whenever you feel lonely or isolated, you can turn to them for support.

As for prayers

Here is a prayer for your mental health:

O Master, Lord my God, in Whose hands is my destiny: Help me according to Thy mercy, and leave me not to perish in my transgressions, nor allow me to follow them who place desires of the flesh over those of the spirit. I am Thy creation; disdain not the work of Thy hands. Turn not away; be compassionate and humiliate me not, neither scorn me, O Lord, as I am weak. I have fled unto Thee as my Protector and God. Heal my soul, for I have sinned against Thee. Save me for Thy mercy's sake, for I have cleaved unto Thee from my youth; let me who seeks Thee not be put to shame by being rejected by Thee for mine unclean actions, unseemly thoughts, and unprofitable remembrances. Drive away from me every filthy thing and excess of evil. For Thou alone art holy, alone mighty, and alone immortal, in all things having unexcelled might, which, through Thee, is given to all that strive against the devil and the might of his armies. For unto Thee is due all glory, honor and worship: To the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit, now and ever, and unto ages of ages. Amen.

Here is a prayer against passions, torment, despair, and distress:

Waves of passion disturb my spirit, great sadness and anguish have overwhelmed my soul. Embalm my soul with Thy Son's peace, O Most Holy One, and by His Grace drive away every doubt and despair. Calm the storm of my sins that, like a fiery worm, burn me, and quench its flame. Fill my heart with joy, O Most Pure One, and disperse the fog of my iniquities before me, for it confuses me. Illumine me with the light of Thy Son. Helpless is my soul, and everything is cumbersome, even prayer. Here I am, cold as a stone, my lips whispering prayers, while my heart remains immovable, for it is smothered in anguish. Melt the ice which envelops my soul and warm my heart with Thy love. I rely not on human protection, but fall down before Thee, O Most Pure Sovereign Mother of God; reject me not, but hearken unto the prayer of Thy servant. Sadness has overcome me; I can endure the demonic attack no more. I have no protection; there is no shelter for this poor man, and in this battle I am ever being wounded. I have no consolation, but in Thee, O Holy Sovereign. O Hope and Protection of all who believe, reject not my prayer. O Most Holy Mother of Christ, Most Pure, Most Blessed Theotokos, Satan is pounding at me like the waves of the sea against a ship, pursuing me by day and tormenting me at night. I have no peace; turbulent is my soul, my spirit trembles. Hearken, O Most Holy One and help me. Intercede before the dear Lord that He may have mercy on me and forgive the sins I have committed. O Most Holy Mother of Jesus, Thy grace is great, and the mightiest opponent to the powers of Hades. Thou art able to save even the greatest of sinners who, having been cast into the depths of hell by unclean powers, should call upon Thee. So too, save me, for lo, Satan will have me stumble and will destroy my faith, but I trust in the Lord. I magnify Thee, Who art more holy than the Cherubim and the Seraphim. Amen.

Something you might also find beneficial is the Canon to Saint Dymphna, which both Orthodox Christians and Eastern-rite Catholics use. You will need to click to download the PDF as that has the introductory prayers and better formatting than the text below. Don't worry about the things like 'Troparia' as that's for when people are singing it. It's definitely a bit of a longer prayer, but Saint Dymphna is such a wonderful intercessor and at least for me, I find that these longer kinds of prayer can definitely help me when I feel overwhelmed.

If it's absolutely far too long for you, then this prayer from it should be beneficial to you still:

O holy-martyr Dymphna, thou who didst imbibe of the saving doctrines of the Christian Faith at thy pious mother's breast, and flourished amid thorns like a beauteous lily: perfume us who run to thee with the sweet fragrance of reverence. Heeding the great apostle who dost thus admonish the faithful – “Ye are the temple of the living God Wherefore, be ye not unequally yoked together with unbelievers” – thou didst flee headlong from thy heathen father, desiring to escape the most vile profanation of the temple of thy body; teach us, O venerable martyr, to hearken also unto the Apostle’s commandments that we might flee from all unbelieving thoughts and evil suggestions. Through many ages, pious Christians have journeyed from afar, to venerate thy precious relics, O holy virgin, for like an ever-flowing fountain thy tomb is a source of countless miracles. Wherefore, Gheel rejoiceth, as the place where thou didst lay down thy life for Christ; and all Flanders is filled with gladness, having thee as its glorious protectress. But we beg thee, blessed Dymphna, that through thy unceasing holy prayers the Lord send beams of grace upon us and all the faithful throughout the world. May all of us who suffer the darkening and delusion of mind find in thee a steadfast advocate and a wellspring of wondrous healing. Wherefore, thus healed, may we with a clear mind give glory, worship and honour to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit, now and forever, and to the ages of ages. Amen.

[oddsconvert]

My brain: make friends! Send asks! Exist in more then just your blog!

Me: but what if I'm scared of friends!?!?!

Anyway, can I request Ronan catching Issak hurting Henley?

Flowers for author. 💐💐💐💐💐

Friends!!! It's official! No being scared! <3 I am so sorry for the delay with this but I hope this ticks your boxes! :D

---

“How do you sleep at night?”

Henley stirred awake, his world a blurred mess of throbbing pain. Crusted sleep clung to his lashes, he blinked fiercely to chase away the haze. He could only just about make out a hulking silhouette looming over him. When his vision finally sharpened, he instinctively clutched his scratty blanket closer to his heaving chest - his futile shield.

Cold dread flooded Henley as he saw Izaak, free of the chains that usually rattled with every twitch of a muscle. The chains that kept Henley safe and sound, out of harm's way. Far from Izaak’s reach.  Izaak's fists were clenched so hard his knuckles were white, his face contorted in a feral snarl. Panic squeezed Henley’s chest like a vice. He was a rabbit trapped in a fox's den. 

“Wha-?” Henley’s voice was a hoarse rasp. He’s half-convinced no sound left his lips at all. 

"Oh, did I interrupt your sweet dreams, Henny?" Izaak's voice was a low growl, sending shivers trickling down Henley's spine. That nickname. The way it dripped with mocking familiarity, but years of ingrained fear hid within it. It made all the hairs on Henley’s arms stand on edge. 

Izaak suddenly lunged forward. One massive hand clamped around Henley's throat, squeezing every last drop of air from his lungs. Henley's wrists burned in protest against his chains, straining as he fought for a sliver of slack, a desperate inch to reach his throat and fight Izaak off. "You," Izaak spat, barely containing his rage, "are the reason for my suffering. The cause of my anguish. Every scar on my body has your name written on it.."

Tears pressed from beneath Henley’s eyelids, and he shook his head furiously. Passionately. No. It’s not true. He’s not responsible for this. He didn’t land them here, he didn’t start all of this. This is all Izaak’s doing. This is the price he has to pay. 

“So answer the question,” Izaak demanded, now nearly crushing Henley’s windpipe as he choked and wheezed, “How the hell do you sleep at night? No. Scratch that shit. Better yet. How do you live with yourself? After what you’ve done to me?”

“I-Izaak, pleas-”

Izaak’s fist came at Henley with such speed it was like a cannonball. It connected with a sickening crunch as Henley felt his nose cave in, and hot-white pain erupted. The force of the blow sent him sprawling, the floor rose up to meet him with a jarring thud. He lay helpless. Cool blood dripped from his nose and pooled on his lips, he could taste the metallic tang. 

“You dare call me that again, and I’ll put you six feet under this fucking cement. Understand?” Izaak seethed through gritted teeth, with spit spraying and a vein pulsing from his temple. Izaak didn’t even give him the second to respond, Henley was still reeling and seeing stars. “I SAID, “DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!” he roared. 

“Yes!” Henley wailed miserably. Tears mingled with blood and dirt. He sniffed pathetically and whimpered as new pain flared through his obviously broken nose. He stayed glued to the floor. Too afraid to move, to even dare lift his head up. Henley didn’t see Izaak reaching for his long curls of hair and wrenching them in his fist. Yanking his head back, Henley’s Adam's apple bobbed against his collar as he gasped and gulped back the fear.

“‘Yes’, what?” Izaak whispered. It was hard to miss the element of enjoyment in his voice. It sounded like old times. Must feel like it to him too. 

But Henley immediately knew what he was looking for.

“Yes, sir!” Henley gasped out. There’s not a beat of hesitation. Izaak can say many things about Henley. A bad pet, he is not. 

Henley’s head smacked to the ground, his forehead banging against cold, unforgiving cement as Izaak threw him out of his hand. He’s on a warpath. He paced back and forth, contemplating what to do next. 

Izaak's foot then swung into Henley's gut. The air whooshed from Henley's lungs in a strangled scream that ripped free from his throat. The world lurched sideways, a wave of nausea crashing over him. Bile rose in his throat as pain lanced through his abdomen. Izaak unrolled Henley from his cocoon and straddled his hips, slamming his palm over Henley’s mouth, “Shut the fuck up! Don’t you dare make a sound.”

Henley obeyed. He forced himself to seal his lips, now sobbing silently and huffing through the pain. 

“You got us into this fucking mess. You deserve everything you’ve got coming to you. I’m going to make you wish you were never born-”

“I already do-” Henley croaked.

Izaak doesn’t hold back anymore. He unleashed a flurry of punches, raining blow after blow down on Henley. Henley’s already-battered body convulsed with each hit - he twisted and flailed in a desperate bid to shield himself from the onslaught. It was no use. Darkness cornered his vision, and ringing screeched in his ears. His entire body was slowly growing limp.

Henley squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the sweet relief of unconsciousness. He waited for the next punch. And waited. But it never came. Confused, Henley cracked open a swollen and purpling eye.

Izaak was no longer looking at him, and a flicker of raw terror replaced the unhinged rage that had plagued his eyes before. Henley groaned as he lifted his pounding head, and turned to follow Izaak’s petrified stare.

A shadow shifted at the top of the stairs, a tutting sound emanating from the darkness.

“What are you doing to my boy?” Ronan asked, cool as a cucumber on the surface, but fury bubbled below. The calm facade didn’t last. Ronan flew down the stairs, and pulled that oh so familiar remote from his pocket. In the blink of an eye, Izaak was a quivering, jittering wreck as his shock collar lit up and shocked him stiff. He collapsed from Henley’s body like a tonne of bricks. His screams pierced the sound barrier - his fingers scrabbled and ripped at the collar, kicking his legs and bucking his entire body. Ronan punched the button again, and again until the screaming stopped. It’s just silent gargles, with drool dribbling down the edge of Izaak’s blue lips. 

Ronan threw Henley a single, and quick look as he bolted past. It wasn't a look of reassurance, but a quick flicker up and down to acknowledge him. Reaching his locked cabinet, Ronan fumbled with the combination and finally, the cabinet swung open, and he snatched a vial and syringe, and a length of rope.

He wastes no time in racing over to where Izaak is heaving and panting on the floor, and stabbing the syringe in his neck. Izaak roared, a sound that curdled the blood, but it was cut short by a weak gasp as the muscle relaxant began to take hold.

“There, there. That should settle you down, big-un,” Ronan chuckled, patting Izaak on the chest.

“F-ffuc- fuckk y-yoou,” Izaak slurred, his eyes rolled like pinball machines in their sockets. Henley watches as all the tone in Izaak’s muscle depleted and he flopped lifelessly. Izaak lay sprawled on the floor, a pathetic mew escaping his lips as the muscle relaxant coursed through his veins. His previously violent thrashing had dissolved into a pathetic trembling, his limbs heavy and unresponsive.

Henley's cry echoed through the basement. Now that the threat was neutralised. "You didn't tie him tight enough, sir! He almost—!" His voice choked on the rising panic, his gaze locked on Izaak's slack form. “He was going to kill me.”

Ronan paid no mind to Henley, the shivering wreck that he was. Instead, he focused on yanking Izaak’s arms behind his back. With rough rope, he bound Izaak's wrists together with a vengeance, the knots pulled tight, drawing a choked gasp that did little to faze Ronan. Next, he secured Izaak's ankles with another length of rope, the slack yanked out until Izaak's legs were splayed uncomfortably wide. Finally, with a cruel twist, Ronan bound Izaak's ankles to his secured wrists, hog-tying him in a position that screamed discomfort. Izaak's gasps faded to choked moans as his body contorted in a way it wasn't meant to, forced into an arched bow.

Ronan left Izaak on the ground and approached Henley slowly. With a touch that could have been gentle or cruel, he cupped Henley's bruised and bloodied cheek. Henley flinched at the contact, a hiss escaping his lips. Ronan’s eyes flickered over the damage and he tsked, disappointed. Then his eyes met Henley’s and locked in. “Do you really think I’d let him break one of my favourite toys?”

“He - He got pretty close, master.” Henley snivelled. He flinched as Ronan’s arms moved, expecting another blow, but instead, his arms wrapped around Henley’s tiny frame in a sudden and suffocating embrace. Ronan’s grip was tight, possessive, leaving no wiggle room. Defeated, Henley sagged into the hug and rested his head on Ronan’s chest, letting his eyes flutter shut. It was always easier to give into this than brave the pain. Ronan began to stroke Henley’s hair, twirling it in his fingers. It wasn’t a gesture of genuine affection and Henley was never under the impression that it was. It was Ronan’s sense of ownership. Like Izaak’s claim was the bruises and scars. Ronan’s was more inside than out. For Henley, at least.

“Shh Shh. Come with me. I’ll get you patched up, little one”. Grunting with effort, Ronan hoisted Henley to his feet, a hand wrapped under his armpit to guide him up the creaking stairs.

Ronan turned at the very last step, leering at the sight of Izaak, bound and subdued. "That little temper tantrum of yours was cute, pet" he called down, his voice heavy with sarcasm. "But playtime's over. Now, you get to lie there, nice and quiet, and contemplate all the fun things I have planned for you when your little cocktail wears off. I want you to feel every second.”

----

Taglists!:

Henley taglist: @livelaughwhump @kira-the-whump-enthusiast @sorrowful-hyacinth

Ronan taglist: @kira-the-whump-enthusiast

Izaak taglist: @emmettland @kira-the-whump-enthusiast @sorrowful-hyacinth @whumpsoda

Drabble taglist (which I forgot existed and have recently rediscovered assdfghjkl so will be using from now on unless you would like off it <3 ): @whatwasmyprevioususername @whumpsday @sparrowsage @whumperfully @wolves-and-winters @canislycaon24 @happy-little-sadist @darkthingshappen @whumping-in-the-dark @vagabouund @turn-the-tables-on-them

[muiitoloko]

Can I say I liked your one shot "Trust"? That was so good, and I really hope you do a sequel to this, I think we need more real relationships, you know? Not just fairy tales, but relationships with conflicts, arguments and passion of course.

Title: The king and the lioness.

Summary: Lionel Shabandar is determined to fight for his marriage and take care of his lioness.

Pairing: Lionel Shabandar × Fem! Reader

Warnings: Fight, distrust, frustration, fear, anguish and Smut.

Author's Notes: Thank you very much for your request, I'm glad you liked "Trust". It wasn't my favorite writing, but knowing that someone liked it makes me look at this one shot with new eyes.

First, Second and Third part here.

Lionel took a deep breath, trying to contain the frustration and sadness that threatened to overwhelm him once again. He watched as you scrolled through his cell phone, the tension in the room palpable as he struggled to find the right words to express his feelings.

Finally, unable to bear the silence any longer, Lionel pinched the bridge of his nose and walked over to sit next to you on the couch. "Did you find what you were looking for?" he questioned, his voice tinged with resignation.

You practically shoved your cell phone in his face, your eyes blazing with accusation as you demanded answers. "Who is she, Lionel?" you demanded, your voice trembling with anger and hurt.

Lionel sighed heavily, his patience wearing thin as he glanced at the screen of his cell phone. "Ah, her," he muttered, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Well, congratulations, you finally found out. That's my lover."

Your eyes widened in shock, disbelief written across your features as you stared at Lionel in horror. "Your... your lover?" you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. "But how could you... how could you do this to me?"

Lionel rolled his eyes at your reaction, his frustration simmering just beneath the surface. "Oh, for God's sake, are you really that dense?" he snapped, his tone sharp with annoyance. "I was being sarcastic, you imbecile."

But you didn't see beyond the sarcasm, your mind clouded by hurt and betrayal as you dropped his cell phone, the device clattering to the floor as you recoiled from him in disgust. "You... you miserable bastard," you seethed, your voice trembling with emotion. "I knew it! I knew you were cheating on me!"

Lionel ran a hand through his hair, frustration etched on his features as he struggled to make you understand. "For the love of... I'm not cheating on you," he insisted, his voice tinged with exasperation. "That woman is my new assistant. She's been working with me for two weeks now."

But your mind was clouded by doubt and insecurity, unable to see past the pain of betrayal that consumed you. "I don't believe you," you whispered, your voice barely audible above the turmoil raging within you. "I can't believe you."

Lionel's frustration reached its breaking point, his patience wearing thin as he watched you retreat further into your doubts. "Fine, don't believe me," he snapped, his tone laced with bitterness. "What's the point anyway? You never trust me, no matter what I say or do."

With a heavy sigh, he rose from the couch, his movements brisk and determined as he made his way to the door. "I need some air," he muttered, his voice heavy with resignation. "Don't wait up for me."

As Lionel disappeared through the doorway, leaving you alone with your doubts and insecurities, you felt a pang of regret wash over you. But it was too late to take back your words, too late to undo the damage that had been done.

And as you sank onto the couch, tears streaming down your cheeks, you couldn't help but wonder if this was the beginning of the end for your relationship with Lionel.

You picked up the cell phone again, your fingers trembling as you scrolled through the call history. There were indeed numerous calls between Lionel and the woman in question, but no messages exchanged. Could it be true that she was his new assistant? You had no reason to doubt it, yet the nagging voice of insecurity persisted in your mind.

Despite knowing that Lionel was a changed man, his past reputation as a womanizer lingered in your thoughts like a dark cloud. His status as one of the richest and most sought-after individuals in the country only fueled your doubts further. You hated yourself for doubting him, for letting your insecurities poison your relationship.

Meanwhile, Lionel walked the streets, the cool night air doing little to ease the turmoil raging within him. Why did he always find himself in these situations? He should have remained single, free from the constant scrutiny and distrust that plagued his marriage. At least then, he could indulge in the pleasures of the flesh without the burden of a fractured relationship weighing him down.

Lionel couldn't remember the last time he had gone without sex for so long. If you weren't fighting over your distrust, you were too consumed by your own issues to even consider satisfying his needs. It was a vicious cycle that left him feeling frustrated and unfulfilled, trapped in a marriage that seemed to offer little in the way of intimacy or affection.

As he wandered the streets aimlessly, Lionel couldn't shake the feeling of suffocation that threatened to engulf him. He longed for release, for an escape from the constant pressure and scrutiny that seemed to follow him wherever he went. But deep down, he knew that running away wouldn't solve anything. He had made a commitment to you, and he intended to honor it, no matter how difficult it might be.

With a heavy heart, Lionel turned back towards home, his mind racing with thoughts of how to mend the rift that had formed between you. He knew that rebuilding your trust would take time and patience, but he was willing to do whatever it took to make things right. After all, you were the love of his life, and he couldn't bear the thought of losing you.

Lionel entered the mansion, the weight of the evening's events heavy on his shoulders. As he walked through the front door, he found you still sitting on the couch, your eyes red and swollen from crying. Without a word, you stood up, your arms extending towards him in a silent plea for comfort.

With a heavy heart, Lionel approached you, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace. "I'm sorry, my love," he murmured, his voice filled with remorse. "I hate seeing you like this. I never wanted to hurt you."

You buried your face in his chest, seeking solace in his familiar embrace. "I'm sorry too, Lionel," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. "I don't want to doubt you, I really don't. But I can't help it."

Lionel held you tighter, his hand gently stroking your back in a soothing gesture. "We have to stop this, my dear," he murmured, his voice tinged with urgency. "All this distrust is tearing us apart. I won't betray you, I promise. You have to trust me."

You nodded against his chest, wanting desperately to believe his words. "I want to trust you, Lionel," you admitted, your voice trembling with uncertainty. "I really do. But... but I'm scared. I'm scared of getting hurt again. I'm a coward."

Lionel's heart ached at the vulnerability in your voice, his own doubts and insecurities momentarily forgotten as he focused on comforting you. "You're not a coward, my dear," he reassured you, his voice soft and reassuring. "You're brave, stronger than you know. And together, we'll find a way to overcome this."

You drew back slightly, meeting Lionel's gaze with tear-filled eyes. "How can you be so sure?" you questioned, your voice wavering with doubt.

Lionel cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs wiping away the tears that stained your cheeks. "Because I love you," he declared, his voice unwavering. "And I'll do whatever it takes to earn your trust back. No matter how long it takes, no matter how difficult it may be."

You felt a flicker of hope ignite within you, a glimmer of light in the darkness of your doubts. "I want to believe you, Lionel," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper. "I really do."

Lionel leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering against your skin in a silent promise. "Then let's work through this together," he murmured, his voice filled with determination. "I won't give up on us, my love. I promise."

As you melted into his embrace, the weight of your doubts and insecurities began to lift, replaced by the warmth of Lionel's unwavering love and devotion. In that moment, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together, bound by a love that was as enduring as it was unbreakable.

The days passed, and Lionel's efforts to rebuild the trust in your marriage seemed to yield little progress. Despite his unwavering commitment to you, doubts continued to linger in your mind, casting a shadow over your relationship.

Lionel found himself growing increasingly frustrated and tired as he struggled to navigate the rocky terrain of your marriage. There were moments when he questioned whether it was all worth it, whether the constant turmoil and distrust were too great a burden to bear.

Today was one of those moments. He awoke in the middle of the night from a vivid dream, his body stirred with desire, his erection straining against the fabric of his boxers. In a moment of impulsiveness, he reached out to wake you, whispering in your ear and trying to seduce you into making love.

"My love, I need you," he murmured, his hand gently caressing your arm.

But instead of responding to his touch with warmth and desire, you pushed him away, your irritation evident in the sharpness of your voice. "Not now, Lionel," you snapped, your tone tinged with annoyance. "I'm tired, and I just want to sleep."

Lionel felt a pang of disappointment and frustration wash over him at your rejection, but he refused to give up so easily. Ignoring your protests, he tried to insist, his baritone voice filled with longing. "Please, my dear, just this once," he pleaded, his hand reaching out to touch you once more.

But your irritation only seemed to intensify at his persistence, your voice growing sharper as you pushed him away once again. "I said no, Lionel," you snapped, your frustration boiling over. "I'm not in the mood, and I don't appreciate you trying to force me into something I don't want."

Lionel recoiled at the harshness of your words, feeling a surge of hurt and humiliation wash over him. He couldn't understand why you were pushing him away, why you seemed so unwilling to meet his needs. Wasn't marriage supposed to be about compromise and mutual satisfaction?

With a heavy sigh, Lionel reluctantly backed off, his desire waning in the face of your rejection. He knew that trying to push you further would only make things worse, so he decided to take care of himself instead. It wasn't ideal, but it was better than nothing.

As he made his way to the bathroom, Lionel couldn't shake the feeling of rejection that gnawed at his heart. Three months without intimacy, three months of being denied the one thing he craved most. It was a bitter pill to swallow, especially for a man who had never gone so long without sex in his life.

With a heavy heart, Lionel closed the bathroom door behind him, his movements mechanical as he prepared to relieve himself. It was a poor substitute for the real thing, but it would have to do for now.

But as he began to touch himself, a wave of self-pity washed over him, and Lionel found himself overcome with emotion. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, his chest tightening with the weight of his despair. Was this what his life had come to? Pleasuring himself in the bathroom like a teenager?

He sniffled, trying to hold back the tears, but they came anyway, hot and salty against his cheeks. Oh God, was he crying? This was pathetic, utterly pathetic. Men didn't cry, especially not over something as trivial as lack of sex.

Lionel tried to wipe away his tears with his arm, but his efforts were futile. He felt utterly defeated, utterly worthless. The first woman he had ever truly loved had rejected him, pushed him away like he was nothing. It was a blow to his pride, to his masculinity.

But just as he was about to give in to his despair, he felt a pair of hands on his back, and Lionel's embarrassment intensified. He tried to compose himself, to hide his tears from you, but it was too late.

"Are you okay, Lionel?" you asked, your voice filled with concern as you wrapped your arms around him from behind, pulling him into a comforting embrace.

Lionel tried to brush off your concern, to push you away like he always did when he was vulnerable. "I'm fine, my dear," he muttered, his voice thick with emotion. "Just... just go back to sleep."

But you ignored his protests, holding him tighter as you pressed a gentle kiss to the back of his neck. "No, I'm not going to leave you like this," you insisted, your voice soft and reassuring. "Tell me what's wrong, Lionel. I want to help."

Lionel hesitated, torn between his pride and his desperation for comfort. But in the end, he couldn't keep up the facade any longer. With a heavy sigh, he finally admitted the truth, his voice trembling with emotion. "I feel rejected, my love," he confessed, his words raw with pain. "For three months, you've been pushing me away, and it hurts. I just... I just wanted to be intimate with you. I just wanted to feel you, to feel close to you. I just wanted... I just wanted fucking sex!"

The words spilled out of him like a dam bursting, his pent-up frustration and despair flooding out in a torrent of emotion. He felt utterly exposed, utterly vulnerable, but at the same time, a weight seemed to lift from his shoulders. It was liberating, in a way, to finally let go of his pride and admit his deepest fears and insecurities to you.

You held him tighter, your arms wrapped around him in a comforting embrace as you whispered soothing words of reassurance. "I'm sorry, Lionel," you murmured, your voice thick with regret. "I didn't realize how much I was hurting you. I promise, things will be different from now on. I'll make it up to you, I swear."

Lionel didn't respond at first, still feeling a sense of vulnerability and embarrassment for breaking down in front of you. But when he felt your hand wrap around his still throbbing length, all coherent thought seemed to vanish from his mind, replaced by a primal hunger that consumed his senses.

A surprised moan escaped his lips as your small hand struggled to fully encircle him, your touch sending jolts of pleasure coursing through his veins. His hips instinctively rocked forward, seeking more of your touch, more of your warmth.

But even as pleasure coursed through his veins, Lionel couldn't shake the feeling of inadequacy that gnawed at the corners of his mind. Was he really so pathetic that he needed his wife to touch him like this, to satisfy his most basic needs? He hated himself for it, but he couldn't deny the overwhelming desire that consumed him in this moment.

"You don't have to if you don't want to," Lionel murmured, his voice thick with emotion as he tried to give you an out. He didn't want to pressure you into anything you weren't comfortable with, even if it meant denying himself the pleasure he craved.

But you didn't disappoint him, your response sending a surge of relief and desire coursing through him. "I want you, Lionel," you whispered, your voice filled with longing. "I want to make you feel good."

And with those words, Lionel felt another weight lift from his shoulders, a sense of liberation washing over him as he surrendered to the pleasure of your touch. He watched with rapt attention as you touched him slowly, dragging your hand down his length, spreading his pre-cum and sending shivers of pleasure racing through his body.

You looked up at Lionel, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you commented on the moans you had heard him utter in his sleep. "What were you dreaming about, my dear?" you teased, your voice laced with playful curiosity.

Lionel's cheeks flushed slightly at your question, but he met your gaze with a smoldering intensity that sent shivers down your spine. "With you, always with you," he confessed, his voice low and husky with desire. "I dreamed I was fucking you against the desk in my office at Shabandar Corporation."

A thrill of excitement coursed through you at his words, the image of Lionel taking you with wild abandon igniting a firestorm of need within you. "God, that sounds incredible," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. "I wish I could have been there to experience it with you."

Lionel growled softly at the thought of that dream, his arousal evident in the way his length twitched in your hand. "It was so good, so good," he confessed, his voice rough with need. "The lion satisfying his lioness."

But as you stopped touching him, Lionel groaned in disappointment, his desire for you evident in the way his hips rocked forward, seeking more of your touch. "Don't stop, my love," he pleaded, his voice thick with desire. "Please, I need you."

You smiled at his reaction, feeling a surge of power and satisfaction at the effect you had on him. With a deliberate slowness, you turned him around so he was facing you, your eyes locking with his in a silent promise of what was to come.

And then, without a word, you knelt in front of him, your actions leaving no doubt of what you were going to do. You were going to worship your king, to show him just how much he meant to you.

You hold Lionel in your hand, looking up at him mischievously as you tease, "Has the lion turned into a little mouse?"

Lionel's eyes darken with desire as he growls in response, "Little mouse? No, my dear. I am the lion, the king."

With a smirk, you continue to stroke him gently, reveling in the power you hold over him. "Prove it then, my king," you challenge, your voice dripping with playful taunting. "Show me just how much of a lion you really are."

Lionel's ego swells with pride and arrogance, his dominant nature coming back in full force as he reaches out to hold the back of your head firmly. "You dare to doubt me, my lioness?" he purrs, his baritone voice sending shivers down your spine. "I'll show you exactly who is in control here."

With a swift movement, he guides your head forward, pressing his length against your lips, his arrogance fueling his desire to dominate you completely. "Take me in your mouth, my lioness," he commands, his voice laced with authority. "Show me how much you worship your king."

You eagerly comply with his demand, taking him into your mouth with a hunger that matches his own. Lionel groans in pleasure at the sensation, his hands tightening in your hair as he guides your movements, setting the pace with a firm grip.

As you pleasure him with skillful strokes and teasing swirls of your tongue, Lionel's arousal builds to a fever pitch, his pride swelling with every moan and whimper that escapes his lips. He revels in the feeling of power and dominance that courses through him, his ego inflated by the knowledge that he is the one in control.

As Lionel lets go of your hair, you take the opportunity to slow down your movements, deciding to tease him. You scatter kisses along the length of his shaft, tracing delicate patterns with your lips and tongue. Lionel allows it, relishing in the sensation of your teasing touches. After all, his queen was a master tease, and he loved every moment of it.

You continue to lavish attention on him, ensuring that no part of him is neglected, including his balls. Lionel can't help but marvel at your skill and dedication, feeling pride swell within him at the sight of you pleasuring him so expertly. You were his perfect lioness, and he couldn't imagine anyone else satisfying him in quite the same way.

But Lionel has other plans in mind. He doesn't want to finish in your mouth, no, he wants to finish inside of you. With a low growl of desire, he pulls you away from him and scoops you up in his arms, carrying you back to the bedroom with purpose.

As he lays you down on the marital bed, Lionel takes a moment to admire your beauty, noting with satisfaction that you aren't wearing panties under your nightgown. You always knew how to tempt him, how to drive him wild with desire.

With a smirk, Lionel decides to tease you in return, running his fingers lightly over your quivering and wet entrance. He can feel the heat radiating from you, the unmistakable scent of arousal filling the air. You were all wet for him, and he couldn't wait to claim you as his own.

"Look at you, my little lioness," Lionel purrs, his baritone voice sending shivers down your spine. "So eager and ready for your king. But you know what I want, don't you?"

You nod eagerly, your own desire burning bright as you gaze up at him with wanton abandon. "Yes, my king," you reply, your voice husky with need. "I want you inside me, filling me up completely."

Lionel's smirk widens at your words, his arousal reaching a fever pitch as he positions himself between your legs, his hardness pressing against your slick folds. "Good girl," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. "Now, let me show you just how much I adore my queen."

With that, he thrusts into you with one smooth motion, claiming you as his own with a primal growl of satisfaction. As you gasp in pleasure beneath him, Lionel loses himself in the sensation of your tight heat enveloping him, a feeling of completeness washing over him as he loses himself in the rhythm of your shared desire.

And as Lionel pulls out almost all the way, leaving just the toothy tip of himself inside you, you feel a surge of anticipation coursing through your veins. Your quivering hole almost closes completely before he rocks back against you hard, making you scream from the intense thrusts. "God, this feels amazing," you moan, your voice husky with desire. "I've missed this so much, Lionel. I can't believe I denied you."

Lionel's wild look only adds to your arousal as he effortlessly reaches up your nightgown, exposing your breasts to him. His hooked nose twitches with anticipation as he gazes at your exposed flesh, his baritone voice dripping with lust. "You have such perfect breasts, my lioness," he purrs, his hands caressing your curves with possessive need. "They belong to me, don't they? Say it, my queen."

You gasp at his words, feeling a thrill of excitement coursing through you at the possessive tone in his voice. "Yes, Lionel," you whimper, your voice trembling with desire. "My breasts belong to you, my king. They're yours to do with as you please."

With a predatory gleam in his eyes, Lionel leans down to capture one of your hardened nipples between his teeth, biting down gently before soothing the sting with a flick of his tongue. You arch into his touch, your back arching off the bed as waves of pleasure wash over you.

Lionel's lips curl into a satisfied smirk as he continues to lavish attention on your breasts, alternating between gentle nips and languid kisses. His hands roam freely over your body, exploring every curve and contour with an intimacy that leaves you breathless.

"You're so beautiful, my queen," Lionel murmurs, his voice thick with desire as he trails kisses down your torso, leaving a fiery trail of need in his wake. "I could spend eternity worshiping you, pleasuring you in every way imaginable."

As Lionel's words washed over you in a haze of pleasure and desire, you found yourself lost in the rhythm of his thrusts, your mind consumed by the intoxicating sensations coursing through your body. Each powerful thrust sent waves of pleasure crashing over you, igniting a firestorm of need that burned hotter with each passing moment.

You whimpered incoherently, your voice lost amidst the symphony of moans and gasps that filled the air. All you could focus on was the exquisite pleasure of Lionel's touch, the way he filled you so completely, so deliciously. Every thrust was a reminder of his dominance, of his claim over you as his lioness.

But Lionel didn't let you rock against him, his hands holding your hips firmly in place as he increased the intensity of his thrusts. He pounded into you with a primal urgency, his movements fueled by a raw, untamed desire that left you gasping for breath.

In the midst of your pleasure-addled haze, Lionel's words finally penetrated your consciousness, his voice thick with passion and devotion as he expressed his unwavering commitment to you. He reminded you of your worth, of the undeniable bond that held you together, even in the face of doubt and insecurity.

As Lionel continued to pleasure you with a fervor bordering on desperation, you felt a surge of love and gratitude wash over you. Despite your doubts and insecurities, he remained steadfast in his devotion, his every action a testament to the depth of his love for you.

And in that moment, as you surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure of his touch, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together. Lionel was your king, your lion, and you were his lioness, bound by a love that was as fierce as it was unbreakable.

As Lionel's thrusts grew more urgent, his baritone voice filling the air with a primal growl of desire, you surrendered completely to the ecstasy of the moment. With each powerful thrust, you felt a sense of liberation wash over you, a reminder that no matter what doubts or insecurities may arise, you would always have each other.

And as you clung to Lionel in the throes of passion, you knew that together, you could weather any storm, overcome any obstacle. For in each other's arms, you had found not only love, but strength, resilience, and a bond that was truly unbreakable.

With a final, primal roar of pleasure, you and Lionel reached the pinnacle of ecstasy together, your bodies entwined in a passionate embrace that transcended time and space. And as you lay spent and sated in each other's arms, you knew that no matter what the future held, you would face it together, as king and lioness, united in love and devotion.

The next morning, as you trudged to the bathroom, Lionel watched you with a satisfied smile. His ego swelled at the sight of your slight discomfort, evidence of the passion you had shared the night before. He stayed in bed, one hand behind his head, a smug smile playing on his lips. But even as he reveled in his conquest, he knew he should check on you, make sure you were okay after the intensity of the previous night.

With that thought in mind, Lionel got up, ignoring his nudity as he knocked on the bathroom door before entering. He found you standing under the hot spray of the shower, the steam filling the room as you tried to soothe the lingering soreness from the night before.

"Are you okay, my love?" Lionel asked, his voice filled with concern as he observed the marks he had left on your skin. He couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt at the sight of the love bites and finger marks that adorned your body.

You grimaced slightly, admitting that you were sore but insisting that you were fine. Lionel could hear the pain in your voice, and he couldn't bear to see you in discomfort. Without a second thought, he stepped into the shower with you, pulling you close against him in a gentle embrace.

"I'm sorry if I was too rough last night," Lionel apologized, his voice thick with regret. "I didn't mean to hurt you, my dear. I just got carried away."

You shook your head, denying his apology as you leaned into his embrace. "No, Lionel, it's okay," you reassured him, your voice soft and affectionate. "I liked it, really. It's just a little soreness, but it's a good kind of pain."

Lionel felt a wave of relief wash over him at your words, grateful that he hadn't caused you any lasting harm. But he knew he couldn't let you go through the day in discomfort. With determination, he announced that he would stay home to take care of you, brushing off your protests about his work.

"No arguments, my love," Lionel insisted, his voice firm with resolve. "Today, I'm taking care of you. You're my lioness, and it's time for the lion to show his devotion."

You tried to protest further, but Lionel wouldn't hear of it. With a gentle smile, he helped you finish your shower before drying you off and leading you back to bed. As you curled up against him, basking in the warmth of his embrace, you couldn't help but feel grateful for his unwavering love and devotion.

And as you drifted off to sleep in his arms, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together, as king and lioness, united in love and devotion.

As Lionel watched you sleep, a sense of peace washed over him, the tension and turmoil of the previous night fading into the background. He couldn't help but admire the serene expression on your face, the way your chest rose and fell with each steady breath. Gently, he reached out to caress your cheek, his touch light and tender as he brushed a stray lock of hair away from your face.

With a contented sigh, Lionel decided to take care of things so you could rest without worry. He retrieved his cell phone from the bedside table, scrolling through his contacts until he found the number he was looking for. With a quick press of a button, he dialed his assistant's number, his baritone voice filling the room as he explained that he wouldn't be showing up for work today.

"Good morning, this is Lionel," he greeted her, his voice smooth and authoritative. "I won't be coming in today, so please only call me if it's absolutely necessary. I need a day off to take care of some personal matters."

His assistant, accustomed to his occasional need for privacy, agreed without hesitation, promising to handle any urgent matters herself. Lionel thanked her before ending the call, a sense of relief washing over him as he set his cell phone aside.

As he glanced at the device, Lionel couldn't help but entertain the idea of getting a separate cell phone just for work. However, the thought of carrying around two phones seemed cumbersome to him, and he scoffed at the idea of becoming even more reliant on technology. He was a man of refinement and tradition, not some slave to modern gadgets.

With a shrug, Lionel decided to push the thought aside for now, focusing instead on the warmth of your presence beside him. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close as he nuzzled against your neck, content to spend a few more moments in the comfort of your embrace.

But as the morning light filtered through the curtains, Lionel realized that he couldn't let you go hungry. With a determined smile, he reluctantly untangled himself from your embrace, wearing underwear and making his way to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for his beloved lioness.

As he moved around the kitchen with practiced ease, Lionel couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at the thought of pampering you with a delicious meal. He hummed softly to himself as he gathered ingredients and set to work, the rhythmic clatter of pots and pans filling the air as he whipped up a feast fit for a queen.

And as the scent of freshly brewed coffee and sizzling bacon filled the air, Lionel couldn't wait to see the smile on your face when you woke up to the delicious aroma of breakfast. For you were his lioness, his queen, and he would do anything to make you happy.

As you woke up to the annoying vibration of Lionel's cell phone on the bedside table, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of annoyance at the interruption. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you glanced at the screen to see who was calling, only to freeze in surprise at the sight of the caller ID.

It was that woman again, the one Lionel had insisted was just his new assistant. Doubts crept into your mind once more as you wondered why she was calling him so early in the morning. Had he been lying to you all along?

"Lionel?" you called out, but there was no answer from downstairs. Frowning, you hesitated for a moment before reaching out to swipe the screen, curiosity getting the better of you. What could she possibly want at this hour?

With a sigh of resignation, you answered the call without thinking, bringing the phone to your ear as you prepared to speak to the woman on the other end of the line. "Hello?" you greeted, your voice laced with a hint of uncertainty.

"Mr. Shahbandar?" the woman's voice came through the line, her tone respectful and apologetic. "I'm sorry to disturb you, sir, I know you said not to call unless absolutely necessary, but there's an urgent matter that requires your attention."

You listened intently as she explained the situation, a shareholder meeting that Lionel had apparently forgotten about. She didn't know whether to postpone the meeting or attend it in his place, and she was seeking his guidance on how to proceed.

As you listened to her words, a weight lifted from your shoulders. Lionel had been telling the truth all along, and here you were, doubting him for no reason. Guilt gnawed at the edges of your conscience, but you pushed it aside for now, focusing on the task at hand.

"I'm sorry, but Mr. Shabandar can't come to the phone right now," you replied, your voice firm and decisive. "But I'll make sure he returns your call as soon as possible. In the meantime, you have my assurances that we'll take care of this matter promptly."

The woman on the other end of the line thanked you profusely for your assistance before ending the call. As you hung up the phone, you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride at having resolved the situation on your own.

Quickly, you got out of bed and slipped into a robe, making your way downstairs to find Lionel setting the table with breakfast. His back was turned to you, but you could see the satisfied smile on his face as he hummed softly to himself.

"Lionel," you began, your voice filled with warmth and affection as you approached him. "There was a call for you just now. It was your assistant, about the shareholder meeting today."

Lionel turned to face you, his expression one of surprise and gratitude. "Thank you, my love," he replied, his baritone voice smooth and reassuring. "I'll make sure to return her call right away."

With a nod of acknowledgment, you settled into your seat at the table, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you as you prepared to enjoy breakfast with your beloved husband. Despite the doubts that had plagued you earlier, you knew that you and Lionel were a team, united in love and devotion.

And as you shared a meal together, basking in the warmth of each other's presence, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the bond that held you together, even in the face of uncertainty. For in each other's arms, you had found not only love, but strength, resilience, and a sense of peace that transcended all doubts and fears.

With a smile of gratitude, you reached out to take Lionel's hand in yours, intertwining your fingers with his as you silently reaffirmed your commitment to each other. No matter what challenges lay ahead, you knew that you would face them together, as king and lioness, united in love and devotion forevermore.

[anitalorimer]

𝐕𝐄𝐈𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐑 |𝐣𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐞

𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢 | 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚓𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚏𝚎𝚠 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚑𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚠. 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚏 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚛. 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚖, 𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚝𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚗, 𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚋𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚗𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝. 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚗'𝚜 𝚎𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚋𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚓𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚏𝚞𝚕. 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚛, 𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞.

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 | 𝟷𝟾+, 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚜, 𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚝𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚗, 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚜, 𝚗𝚘𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚝𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚗, 𝚌𝚛𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛!𝚓𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗, 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗, 𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝

𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 | 𝚓𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚎 𝚡 𝚏𝚎𝚖!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 | 𝟽𝟺𝟹 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜

When you first met Jonathan Crane, you did not expect for him to be the reason you would be fighting for your sanity. You have been dating Jonathan for a few months now, your relationship shrouded in a certain mystery that seemed to surround him. You knew he had a peculiar interest in fear, studying it’s effects on people’s minds with an almost obsessive dedication. Despite your closeness, he had managed to keep his Scarecrow activities hidden from you.

Your paths had crossed in the chaos of Gotham City. You, a determined reporter, had been working on the Raymond Falcons case, delving deep into the criminal underbelly of the city. It was during this investigation that you first met Jonathan. He was a professor at a local university, offering insights into the psychology of fear and the criminal mind.

Your conversations started as interviews, but they quickly evolved into something more. There was an undeniable connection between you, a shared passion for unraveling the mysteries of the human psyche. As you delved deeper into your investigation, he became your confidant, a safe haven in a world teetering on the edge of darkness.

Back to that fateful night when fear took hold of him, his own vulnerability sparking something within you. You awoke with a start, the air around you thick with a suffocating sense of dread. And there he was, Scarecrow, his presence looming over you like a nightmare come to life.

"N-No... What...?" Your voice trembled as you struggled to comprehend the surreal scene before you.

His eerie, distorted chuckle sent shivers down your spine. "I couldn’t help but watch from afar. The peace in your body as you investigate crimes in Gotham. I’ve seen you, Y/N. You show no fear and that makes me intrigued. Fear, my dear, is a powerful tool. And tonight, you'll understand its true nature."

Panic surged through your veins as he exposed you to his fear toxin. It was as if the world around you twisted and warped, reality giving way to the darkest corners of your mind. Images of your worst nightmares began to flash before your eyes, an onslaught of terror and despair.

"No, stop! This isn't real!" You cried out, your voice quivering with raw fear.

But his voice, chilling and intoxicating, echoed in your ears. "Fear is the reality we choose to embrace. Embrace it, Y/N. Show me what’s hiding in that peaceful head of yours!"

The room seemed to close in around you, shadows morphing into grotesque figures. Your breath came in ragged gasps as the images intensified, your heart pounding as if it might burst from your chest.

The fear of being abandoned surged within you, a tidal wave of raw emotion. Memories of past hurts, moments of feeling alone and unwanted, all converged into a torrent of anguish. The faces of loved ones fading away, leaving you in darkness.

"Please, no more!" You screamed, your voice cracking as the weight of your terrors pressed down upon you. "Jonathan, no! Don’t go!"

Watching the fear curse through your body, something snapped inside of Jonathan. Your body lay before him, converged in sweat and tears and tried to scramble out of the shadows of your fear. Jonathan became aware of your fear, however he became aware of his presence in your life.

A raw connection, an unbreakable bond, a gift of love. This was not how Jonathan wanted to hear the confession, but his sinister actions got the best of him. Aware of the current actions, Jonathan felt useless to try and calm you down. He had to let it run its course.

The sounds of your cries, screams and the sight of your body trembling with fear made Jonathan remorseful. Jonathan pulled off the Scarecrow mask, gripping it tightly in his hands. The material felt heavy, his own fear and obsession weighing it down with sorrow.

As the toxin's grip began to loosen, you found yourself shivering, trembling not just from the aftereffects of the toxin but from the rawness of the emotions it had dredged up. And then you saw him – Jonathan, no longer Scarecrow, but a broken man before you.

Tears streaked down his face, his hands trembling as he clutched the mask that represented his alter ego. In that moment, your fear transformed into a profound understanding. You saw the man behind the mask, the vulnerability he had always hidden, and the pain he carried.

Upon hearing your shuffling against the bedsheets, Jonathan turned to face yours. " Y/N… I-"

"Why did you do this to me?" You felt betrayed, hurt, but in all emotion, you felt fearful.

"I never meant... I didn't want you to experience this. I wanted to understand, to know why you're different. But I never wanted to hurt you like this."

Seeing Jonathan in this state was foreign to you. Looking into his glossy eyes, you saw raw feeling, the real Jonathan.

Tentatively, you reached out to him, your fingers brushing against his tear-stained cheek. "Jonathan," you murmured, your voice filled with compassion. "We both have our fears. I didn’t want you to know mine because I fear of losing those important to me. You are important to me, Jonathan.”

His gaze met yours, a mixture of relief and contentment in his eyes. "I don't deserve your forgiveness. I brought this upon you."

Your fingers found their way to his lips, silencing his self-blame. "We're all haunted by something. What matters is how we choose to confront those demons."

His voice cracked as he spoke, his vulnerability laid bare. "I never meant for you to see this side of me. I never wanted to lose you."

The weight of remorse bore down on him as he realised the extent of what he had done. He had brought your deepest fears to life, subjected you to the torment he himself had inflicted on others. As you trembled before him, his heart shattered, the pieces scattering at his feet.

But forgiveness was not an immediate gift. Fear still lingered in your eyes, and his self-doubt was palpable. The days that followed were heavy with the weight of what had transpired. There were moments of silence, when unspoken apologies hung in the air, and moments of distance, when you both grappled with your own insecurities.

It was a slow journey, navigating the landscape of your emotions. You were fearful of him, of the darkness he could tap into. He was fearful of himself, of the damage he had inflicted upon you. Yet through it all, the connection you shared acted as a guiding light.

Finally, after weeks of uncertainty and soul-searching, the moment of forgiveness arrived. It was a quiet night, a gentle breeze rustling the curtains. You sat together, the weight of your experiences hanging between you. And then, he spoke.

"Y/N, I can never erase what I've done, the fear I've subjected you to. But I want you to know that I'm truly sorry, that I never wanted to hurt you."

Your gaze met his, the wall between you crumbling. "And I'm sorry for shutting you out, for not fully understanding what you were going through."

He reached for your hand, his touch warm and reassuring. "We both have our fears, Y/N. But I promise you, I'll do everything in my power to protect you from them."

A tear glistened in your eye as you looked at him, the connection between you growing stronger. "And I promise to face my fears, as long as we face them together."

It wasn't an easy path forward, but through shared moments of vulnerability, you learned to trust each other on a level that transcended the surface. And as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, your bond only grew stronger, grounded in the understanding that fear could either tear you apart or bring you closer together.

With time, you both found solace in each other's arms, knowing that you were no longer alone in your struggles. And as the nights grew quieter, the darkness no longer held the same terrors it once did, for you had each other to chase away the shadows.

[scribeforchrist-blog]

Pouring It All Out to Him

MEMORY VERSE OF THE WEEK

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+ James 4:3 You ask and do not receive, because you ask wrongly, to spend it on your passions.

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VERSE OF THE DAY

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+ 1 Samuel 1:15 “Not so, my lord,” Hannah replied, “I am a woman who is deeply troubled. I have not been drinking wine or beer; I was pouring out my soul to the Lord.

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** SAY THIS BEFORE YOU READ; HERE’S SOME CHRISTIAN TRUTHS **

I AM FOCUSED

I WON'T FAIL

I AM STRONG

I AM BOLD

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READ TIME: 8 Minutes

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THOUGHTS:

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   How many of you ever poured out your soul to the Lord, I mean, like crying so much and letting him know how you feel from the pits of your soul? I have done this more times than I can count because it is hard not to allow your emotions to take over when life happens, and we often don’t know how to handle it.

   The word says we shouldn’t want because he's our shepherd; we don’t have to carry all these emotions by ourselves, we don’t have even to suppress our emotions, we suppress because we think this will help make us stronger, but suppressing makes thing worst Hannah was so overwhelmed and she was upset that she was told she drunk. She wasn’t; she was pouring out her soul to the Lord.

 The backstory of Hannah was she was married to a man who had another wife, and that wife had children, and for some reason, Hannah womb was closed. The other wife kept provoking her because she couldn’t become pregnant, and she became so irritated she stopped eating and drinking. She was so upset that she went to the temple crying. Eli saw her crying. I reminded you this was the first time she was in deep anguish, praying and vowing to God if you give me a son, I will give him back to you.

  Verse 9 -10 Once, when they had finished eating and drinking in Shiloh, Hannah stood up. Now Eli, the, priest, was, sitting on his chair by the doorpost of the Lord’s house. 10 In her deep anguish, Hannah prayed to the Lord, weeping bitterly.

  See, it didn’t matter to her if she was crying; it didn’t matter who saw her crying. We often worry about who sees us and what they think, but when we cry to the Lord, we don’t need to worry about anything because the Lord loves when our hearts are contrite.

  Verse 17-18 Eli answered, “Go in peace, and may the God of Israel grant you what you have asked of him.” She said, “May your servant find favor in your eyes.” Then she went her way and ate something, and her face was no longer downcast.

    Eli told her to go in peace and that God would grant her request; when we get a word from God, we know it's something we have been missing. We began to feel validated, and we can go on and confidently know that he heard us. Hannah knew he was a man of God and that what he had said to her was coming straight from God, and she went home and ate; she was no longer sad , when we talked to God; we no longer have to be sad about anything; we no longer have to worry, because when we trust in God, we know that what he says is true.

 I can tell you this: when I was in that period of my life, I felt so defeated when I talked to God like I genuinely talked to him; I was able to tell him all my fears and worries because I knew he would take care of it all. There are not too many things in this life that I can't rest in. I can't trust everyone with my feelings, and I can't let this person know what I'm thinking, but with God, I can be authentic and honest with him, and he will hear me and comfort me through it all.

 Sometimes, it’s hard to wrap our heads around hard times; it feels as if no one understands and that even God doesn’t hear us, but we must be like Hannah and believe that what happens to us is for a reason and that when he does it, it will be for our good we can have sorrow to happen that will distract us but God doesn’t want it to distracts us, the enemy wants us to throw us off course that we don’t focus on God that we are worried about this or worried about that but God will give us a way out. Still, we must ignore what Satan tries to do.

  1 Corinthians 10:13 No temptation has overtaken you that is not common to man. God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability, but with the temptation, he will also provide the way of escape that you may be able to endure.

  See, the enemy will try to tempt you, and he wants it to overtake you, but the Lord wants to let it, but neither can we fall prey to his snares. The Lord won’t let us be tempted beyond our ability that we can’t endure; it might be tough it might be hard, but God will be there to protect us if we allow him to; it’s all about if we allow the Lord to protect us through our tough times some of us expect God to do everything, but we must hold on to God and not falter.

 Psalm 119:15 I will meditate on your precepts and fix my eyes on your ways.

    We must fix our eyes on the precepts of God; what are precepts? They are rules and laws so we won’t falter from what he wants of us. We often fix our eyes on our situations, but we must do like Hannah and take it to God. She didn’t hesitate; she knew who could take care of it and she brought it to her Lord! While we are fixed on his laws, think about his promises, call back to him what he promised you, and hold on to that, Hannah as she prayed, she allowed the position of her heart speak to God, and that’s what we must do.

 ***Today, we learned about giving our situations to God, and yes, it’s hard to do this because we want to handle it and tend to it, but God is saying let me handle your issues. God is saying let me carry your weight, but if we don’t allow him to carry it, if we don’t allow him to be there for us, we might be showing signs of not trusting him, and we should trust him with everything.

  Proverbs 4:25 Let your eyes look directly forward, and your gaze be straight before you

  This is what we must do; we must look forward and not back; we must keep our life from distractions and let our gaze be on God; as long as we keep our eyes on the shepherd, we won’t falter; a lot of us are struggling right now because we have allowed situations to be greater than God and what we must understand nothing is greater than God if you have a situation or It seems like the situation is taking over; give it to God and allow him to show you how to stand firm in him! ©Seer~ Prophetess Lee

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PRAYER

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Heavenly Father, we thank you for everything; we ask you to continue to help us walk in you and not falter. Lord, we desire to be with you and to follow only you. Lord, we need you so desperately in our lives that we don’t want to be without you. Lord, forgive us of the sins we have done; help us give you everything. In the mighty name of Jesus, we give you everything , every issue, and we rebuke and bind anything the enemy is using as a distraction, in Jesus' Name, Amen

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REFERENCES

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+ 1 Peter 4:12 Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery trial when it comes upon you to test you, as though something strange was happening to you.

 

+ John 14:27 Peace I leave with you; the peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid

 

+ 1 Corinthians 6:20  For you were bought with a price. So glorify God in your body.

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FURTHER READINGS

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 Proverbs 6

Isaiah 45

Zechariah 12

Hosea 2

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[layla4567]

Spoilers Loki s2 e5

I have a lot to say!!! (this will be long)

Ok first of all this scene made me laugh a lot because of how randomly they presented the original timeline of Mobius, he looks like a child playing (oh and him being a single dad it makes a lot of sense to me)

expectation:

reality:

Oh my f*cking god If I liked O.B before, now I love him with all my soul! He is not only a nerdy genius but a science fiction geek whose passion is to be a writer!!! And why didn't they let him keep his books in the bookstore?! I would gladly buy them!! Just look at his face, he needs a hug :(

AND WHY THE FUCK DID THEY NOT HELP HIM WHEN THE BOOKS DROPPED ON HIM?! IT COSTS NOTHING TO BE KIND DAMN IT

Ok, I think we've all realized that O.B's workshop is the same as the basement where he works at the TVA, maybe he was the one who created the TVA after all? btw how beautiful the photography is in this entire series.

I admit it, I laughed my ass off at this scene, I apologize (make it a meme pls lol) Honestly, this whole scene and the interactions that O.B had with Loki made me laugh (when Loki tries to control his timeslipping or when O.B electrocutes him as scientific proof)

This scene where Loki adjusts his hair and his jacket to see Mobius 👀 (he only does it with him) I wonder what the Sylki fans have to say

Remember how I said I hated Hunter X5/Brad Wolfe? Well I was wrong, there is one person I hate more, her. Girl, they're literally telling you that everything is going to shit and you don't give a damn? On top of that, when they tell you that you are selfish, do you take it naturally as if it were something to be proud of? Why are you like this? The worst thing of all is that when Loki says he wants his friends back she calls him selfish, not sweetheart, that's not being selfish. Being selfish is turning a blind eye to a problem that you mainly caused. Loki's fear of being alone is understandable and justified since he felt that way all his life and has done all the things he did for that same reason, which It's being really selfish, it's the opposite, wanting to be alone and forget your friends and not care that their timelines are falling apart. Sylvie you are a hypocrite (sorry I had to vent)

AAAAAAAAAA I'M GOING TO CRY GOD. I said it and I will always say it Loki needs a hug 😭 This scene is super moving because it shows us Loki's true purpose, he just wants his friends back, who are also people he hasn't known for a long time but who were attentive to him (btw Tom Hiddleston always shines in all his scenes )

This scene...holy shit this scene was scary. I think it's even more terrifying than Thanos' snap.

It's overwhelming how everything around her disappears in seconds leaving her in literal emptiness. There is absolutely nothing left, only threads floating in an enveloping blackness. When I saw that scene I felt empty and desolate.

OH SHIT HERE WE GO AGAIN...

NOOOOOOO MOBIUS NOT YOU (He just wanted to save his children 😭)

Loki's face when he sees his friend disappear D: (I'm having deja vu from the first season when Mobius was pruned)

Sylvie too?! Why does she disappear and Loki doesn't? (By the way, you just arrived Sylvie when you realize that everything is disappearing? really?)

Ok this is a nightmare for Loki, he was left alone and couldn't do anything to avoid all that, I think it's the most hopeless scene of the episode :( (And the way he tries to grab those threads…I'm broken)

OK HEAR ME OUT BECAUSE I HAVE A LOT TO SAY ABOUT THIS SCENE. I think the background voices help a lot with the feeling of anguish and helplessness that Loki feels, for not being able to save what he loved most, his friends. And when you feel overwhelmed by all those voices and at the end one stands out and it's Sylvie's voice saying something like what makes a Loki a Loki is the fact that we are destined to lose? That's when he screams in despair and goes back in time just a few seconds earlier and manages to control his timeslipping. And I must say that at first when I saw this scene it reminded me a lot of the scene from the movie "Ella Enchanted" when she is forced to kill the prince and she is surrounded by mirrors and begins to remember moments of her life such as when her mother told him to trust her or something like that (I don't remember the scene much, I saw it years ago lol) the point is that she refuses with all her heart to obey that order and in a moment of desperation she screams just like Loki and she says that she will no longer be obedient and drops the dagger, freeing herself from the spell. I don't know if you understand my point because I'm bad at explaining, but I think that the love he feels for his friends was what made him go back in time, that strong desire to want to make things right and that determination to say "this isn't true." It can end like this, I decide what is going to happen" (free will) I think that is what makes him finally able to control the situation, love is the most powerful force. Something similar happens in the movie "Tomorrowland" I think.

This scene is really powerful, the background music, the phrases that Loki says, the context of the scene, it is cinema. I think you don't need an action scene or scenes for a scene to be epic and move you. This is epic with so little, it is simple but effective. And the music is really the icing on the cake, it is so hopeful and gives strength to the moment when Loki returns to the TVA being able to fulfill his mission, I cried. Loki has evolved into a hero who saves the day and everyone.

And that ending??! Oh no the cliffhanger again..

Phew I know this was very long but I really needed this kind of catharsis, never has a Loki episode left me with so many emotions and beautiful things like this one. I laughed, I got excited, I cried and I was scared. I am very happy with the evolution of Loki and each episode that passes wins my heart more, I can't wait to see the next chapter. Everything is perfect in this series, the music, the settings, the actors, etc. It shows that it is made with the heart

[khtrinityftw]

There has been discourse elsewhere about Organization XIII and why the series beyond's retconning of them actually having hearts the whole time was because they were depicted too human, with too much emotion. To which I have a very blunt question to ask....

What the hell were the games you were playing?

Organization XIII quite frequently expose themselves as without feeling. And when it comes to the seemingly emotional demeanors of several members, the series Ultimania from 2014 actually gave away what the original intent behind that was on the Xemnas bio page:

"His tone and gestures are a bit theatrical".

Organization XIII are ACTORS.

Like all actors, they can draw upon memories or the rudimentary understanding of human emotion to channel it even if it's not what they're truly feeling. Xigbar could thus think "I remember being a douche as a human so I'll draw upon those memories to act that way!" Vexen could think "I remember being obsessively passionate about science as a human so I'll draw upon those memories to act that way!" Demyx could think "I remember being a wimp as a human so I'll draw upon those memories to act that way!" Luxord could think "I remember being a game-loving gentleman as a human so I'll draw upon those memories to act that way!" And Larxene could think "I remember being a sadistic bitch as a human so I'll draw upon those memories to act that way!" Much of this is a desperate attempt to recapture some true measure of feeling. Acting upon memories, doing the things they loved to do as humans....they hope that if they keep doing that, it'll bear some emotional fruit. Of course, the other members don't try nearly as hard, feigning emotion only when the situation they're in calls for it. Sometimes the results aren't pleasant, like with Zexion who is so used to not putting in effort acting out emotions that when finally pushed to it comes off as more mentally deranged than anything, like he's a robot that's short-circuiting.

Now, despite this, I have to mention that there are three exceptions to this where the Organization members truly do feel things.

One is in regards to Kingdom Hearts, which on two different occasions bring out true emotions. The first is with Saix, who under its light goes into a legitimate rage due to his nature as a high-class Berserker Nobody. And the second is of course with Xemnas when he fuses with it, calling upon the emotions of anger, hatred and envy to empower him, as they're the only emotions he can remember.

Two is when Nobodies actually attempt to get close to those who have hearts...and "those who have hearts" includes Roxas and Namine, who due to the special nature of their birth do, in fact, have hearts, at the cost of having memories of their human lives. As seen with Axel, getting close to Roxas' heart and then Sora's in turn made him begin to actually feel genuine emotions stirring within him.

This of course led to the inner conflict where his nature as an unfeeling, self-interested Nobody clashed with the true feelings of friendship he now had toward Roxas which we saw play out in KH2.

Third and finally, their deaths. Because a Nobody fades away means that their hearts are about to regain their bodies and souls, this connection with their hearts enables them to feel true emotion at the moment of their passing. Rage, anguish, fear, remorse, grief...such feelings are there, for real, in their last few seconds of existence.

.....Except for Xigbar. He just kept up the douche act to the end.

[baldwinivmybeloved]

ೀ⠀ׂ ੭ৎ Charper Fourteen 𝅄 ꒱ Xica x Baldwin IV

Xica found herself alone in her room, the oppressive silence weighing on her shoulders like an inescapable burden. Her thoughts returned again and again to the intense scene with Baldwin IV, where they had almost given in to their passion. Fear and regret overwhelmed her, her mind clouded by guilt and confusion.

"What am I doing?" she thought, as her heart pounded. "This can't be. What consequences will this bring? How could I let myself be carried away like this?" Her hands trembled as she brought them to her face, trying to find some comfort amid her emotional turmoil. She paced the room, unable to stay still, her breathing rapid and shallow. Anguish consumed her, feeling as if she were on the edge of a precipice from which there was no return.

To avoid encountering Baldwin, she began to flee through the castle corridors, quickly diverting every time she heard his voice or saw a shadow that could be his. Baldwin, for his part, noticed the distance Xica maintained, and his heart filled with sadness. He felt a heaviness in his chest, a despair that seemed to devour him from within.

From Baldwin IV's perspective, the situation was no less painful. He was in his quarters, reflecting on how he had allowed his instincts to take over. "How could I be so reckless?" he thought. "Xica deserves more than this. She deserves security and stability, not the uncertainty of forbidden love." He felt a mix of guilt and desire, an internal conflict that tore him apart.

Godfrey, noticing the evident sadness on his king's face, approached cautiously. "My lord, I can't help but notice that something deeply troubles you. Is it about Xica, isn't it?"

Baldwin nodded, sighing heavily. "I can't stop thinking about her, Godfrey. I've let my feelings get the best of me, and now I fear I may have put her in danger."

Godfrey looked at him with understanding but also determination. "Baldwin, it's been a long time. If your feelings for Xica are true, you must make a decision. You can't keep living in this uncertainty."

The conversation between them became deep and extensive, with Godfrey encouraging Baldwin to declare his complete love for Xica. "My lord, Xica has proven to be an exceptional woman. She has endured so much and still remained strong. If you love her, if you truly love her, then you must make it official. Ask her to be your wife and queen of Jerusalem. Not only as an act of love but also as a declaration that her place is by your side, no matter the circumstances."

Baldwin pondered Godfrey's words for a long time, feeling they echoed his own thoughts. "You're right, Godfrey. I'm sure of what I feel. I'll ask Xica to become my wife and queen of Jerusalem."

However, his words did not go unnoticed. Reynald de Chatilleau, hidden in the shadows, heard every word of the conversation. His face contorted in pure hatred. "Xica, queen of Jerusalem? I will never allow it."

Reynald quickly made his way to the prison where Genova was being held. He gripped the bars with fury, causing Genova to tremble. "Speak, woman! Tell me everything you know about Xica and those jewels."

Genova, though frightened, revealed the location of the jewels. Reynald looked at her with disdain. "I only wanted you as an object. You're useless to me now."

These words drove Genova mad. Her mind plunged into a whirlwind of pain and betrayal as Reynald walked away, leaving behind a trail of despair.

Reynald sought out Guido de Lusignan, and together, enraged, they headed towards the kitchen where Xica was with her mother and other servants. The atmosphere filled with terror as the knights stormed into the room.

"Take that woman!" ordered Reynald. The servants screamed in fear as the knights grabbed Xica with force. Reynald heated a stone in the fire and, without compassion, placed it in Xica's mouth. The pain made her faint instantly.

Guido de Lusignan coldly ordered, "Tie her up in her room and give her no food." The slaves and Luisa, Xica's mother, ran to seek help. Xavier and the other men arrived quickly and took Xica, unconscious, to the lower floor of the slave hut.

At midnight, Reynald de Chatilleau arrived with fire and three Templars, burning the house completely. Chaos erupted as the slaves fled in terror. Xica, awakened by the smoke, struggled to free herself, injuring her arm in the process. She climbed to the upper floor, helping as many as she could to escape.

The smoke thickened the air, and the desperation of the slaves increased. Xica, despite the pain and confusion, moved with determination, rescuing Jacobino, Xavier, and all the children. However, just as she was about to return, she encountered Reynald de Chatilleau, sword in hand, ready to kill her.

Xica retreated, re-entering the burning house. Reynald pursued her with unbridled fury. Xica reached her room, desperately searching for her belongings. In the distance, she heard her mother's voice but had no time to react. She drew a sword and faced Reynald.

The attacks were swift and fierce. Reynald struck with force, but Xica, despite her weakness, moved with agility, deflecting the blows and looking for an opportunity to counterattack. Every clash of swords echoed in the air, mixed with the creaks of the burning structure. Xica managed to wound Reynald in the arm, forcing him to retreat.

Just as Reynald prepared for a final attack, the voices of Tiberias and other knights were heard approaching. Taking advantage of the distraction, Xica ran towards her mother's voice but was stopped by Tobiah, the knight, who pulled her out of the burning house. Xica struggled to break free, but Tobiah did not let go, knowing it was impossible to return.

The house collapsed completely, and Xica screamed in despair. Her cries echoed throughout the castle as she tried to fight Tobiah. But her strength left her, and in the end, she fainted on the ground, watching as the remains of the house were consumed by fire and hearing the cries of the survivors.

In her dreams, Xica found herself in a beautiful landscape. Had she died? She didn't think so. In the distance, she saw her mother and ran towards her, finding herself in a tender embrace. "Mother…" Xica whispered, feeling the warmth of maternal love.

Luisa looked at her with tenderness. "My dear Xica, you have been so strong. But you must go on living. You can't come with me yet. You have a life ahead of you."

Xica, in tears, responded, "I don't want to be without you, mother. I've lost so much…"

"I know, my love," Luisa said, caressing her face. "But you must live. For yourself, for those who love you. You must be strong."

The embrace faded, and Xica found herself back in reality, surrounded by pain and chaos.

In another part of the castle, Baldwin IV, Sibylla, Tiberias, Godfrey, and others rushed to the scene of the fire. Baldwin was visibly worried, fearing for Xica's safety. Tiberias stopped him. "Baldwin, there's not much you can do in your condition. Let the knights handle it."

The knights hurried to extinguish the fire and rescue the survivors. Godfrey described Xica to the knights, hoping they could find her. He described her precisely: a 17-year-old girl, dark-skinned, wearing a white dress stained from work, with curly hair and light eyes. The knights set out to search for her.

Tobiah arrived at the scene with Xica and Xavier, both visibly injured. When Baldwin saw Xica, he felt as if the world stopped. His heart broke at seeing her in that state, with burns and scratches all over her body. "Attend to her immediately!" he ordered, his voice filled with desperation.

Xavier told Baldwin IV everything that Reynald de Chatilleau had done. Baldwin’s rage increased with each word. Tiberias, with a grim face, moved away to find Reynald, determined to make him pay for his crimes. The fire was beginning to die down, and the knights worked tirelessly to save the last survivors.

Baldwin IV, despite his weakness, approached Xica. His heart beat with a mix of desperation and determination. "I can’t let this happen. I can’t lose her," he thought, as tears filled his eyes. He watched as the healers hurried to tend to her wounds, his mind flooded with dark and anguished thoughts.

Xica, still trapped in her dreams, found herself in an idyllic landscape. The sky was a deep blue, and the flowers shone with an ethereal beauty. As she walked, she felt a deep peace but also an underlying sadness. From afar, she saw her mother, Luisa, and ran towards her, finding herself in a tender embrace.

“Mother…” Xica whispered, feeling the warmth and love in that embrace. “I’ve lost so much… I don’t want to be without you.”

Luisa looked at her tenderly. “My dear Xica, you’ve been so strong. But you must keep living. You can’t come with me yet. You have a life ahead of you.”

Through tears, Xica responded, “I don’t know if I can. Everything is so hard.”

“I know, my love,” said Luisa, caressing her face. “But you must live. For yourself, for those who love you. You must be strong.”

Suddenly, a male figure appeared in the scene. It was Emile, Xica’s father, who joined the embrace. The family was finally reunited. “My little Xica,” Emile said softly. “We’ve always been with you, and we always will be. But now you must be brave and continue.”

Xica clung to her parents, feeling a mix of comfort and sadness. “I miss you so much… I don’t know how to go on without you.”

“We will always be in your heart,” Luisa replied. “And as long as you carry us with you, you will never be alone.”

Baldwin IV watched helplessly as they tended to Xica, feeling a mix of desperation and guilt. He knew he couldn’t do much in his state, but the mere thought of losing her was unbearable. Dark thoughts swirled in his mind, filling him with deep sadness.

The healers did everything they could to stabilize Xica. Meanwhile, Baldwin didn’t leave her side, his thoughts and emotions in a whirlwind. “I can’t lose her,” he thought over and over, his heart full of anguish.

When the healers finally managed to stabilize Xica, they took her to one of the castle’s rooms to rest. Baldwin stayed by her side, holding her hand tenderly. Although his skin was marked by leprosy, his touch was gentle and full of love.

“Xica,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “I don’t know what I would do without you. Please, come back to me.”

Xica, still in her dream, clung to the image of her parents. “I must be strong,” she thought, remembering Luisa’s words. “I must live for them, for myself.”

Finally, Xica began to wake up. Her body was in pain, and her mind was still clouded by the traumatic events. She slowly opened her eyes and saw Baldwin by her side, his gaze full of worry and love.

“Baldwin…” she murmured, her voice weak.

“Xica, you’re awake,” Baldwin said, relieved. “You don’t know how happy I am to see you open your eyes.”

Xica tried to move, but the pain stopped her. “Don’t strain yourself,” Baldwin said softly. “The healers said you need to rest and recover. You’ve been through a lot.”

“What happened?” Xica asked, trying to remember the recent events.

Baldwin explained what had happened, his voice choked with emotion. “Reynald de Chatilleau… burned down the slave quarters. Many died, but you managed to save many others. You are incredibly brave.”

Xica closed her eyes, trying to process everything. “My mother… where is my mother?”

Baldwin swallowed hard, unable to give her a direct answer. “I don’t know, Xica. We couldn’t find her.”

Xica felt a wave of sadness and despair. Tears began to roll down her cheeks. “No… it can’t be…”

Baldwin held her hand tighter, trying to console her. “I’m sorry, Xica. We did everything we could. I’m here with you. I will always be here with you.”

Xica clung to Baldwin’s hand, finding a small comfort in his presence. Though the pain of the loss was immense, she knew she wasn’t alone. She had Baldwin by her side, and together they would face whatever came.

As Xica recovered, Baldwin stayed by her side, watching over her. The sadness and despair were palpable in the air, but so were love and hope. Despite the adversities, they knew they had to move forward, for themselves and for those they had lost.

In her dream, Xica found herself with her parents again. The farewell was painful, but she knew she had to move forward. “I will always be with you,” she whispered, feeling the love of her family enveloping her.

Luisa and Emile looked at her with pride and love. “Live your life, my dear Xica. Be brave and strong. We will never forget you, and we will always be with you in spirit.”

With tears in her eyes, Xica nodded. “I will. For you. For me.”

She woke up again in reality, feeling a new determination. Though the path would be difficult, she knew she had to move forward. Baldwin, by her side, gave her the strength she needed to face the future.

Together, they knew they could overcome any obstacle. Love and hope would guide them, and although sadness would always be present, so would the memory of those they had lost.

[mindhealing]

Love Transcends All!

In every relationship, every true connection where the affection is genuine, the right partner is not merely a companion for the other person, he/she is a force, a life force equal to the other that elevates the partner's essence in life and together they forge a path of divine connection.

You can check out my YouTube Video on this topic for detailed explanation.

For the female, she ignites a power within her male that makes him feel unstoppable, powerful and in control. Her love is complete and unwavering, the very essence of divine source of all life embracing every imperfection in her mate as a part of his unique story, after all isn't  everyone unique and different?

She projects her divine  purpose in guiding her mate, radiating the feminine divinity and strength, she is his greatest supporter, inspiring him to be true to his path and become the best that he can ever be.

The right male projects safety for his mate where his values center around the 3 fundamentals - to love, to protect and to provide. His mate feels safe, seen, free to express her uniqueness and is truly heard and respected. His love is nurturing without judgement and allowing her express her flaws and imperfection. Her failure and success is as much of his as his is hers.

Together as one, they create a strong base where each person's challenge and problem is tackled and resolved as a team, building authenticity, and purpose.

In this kind of  relationship, love transcends all things, no matter what it is or may be. Each other's pain and anguish is genuinely felt by the other and each helps the other become strong and resilient in the face of past trauma and childhood fears and scars.This helps each of them evolve and enhance mutual empowerment.

Two right partners make two halves of a whole, each bringing out the best in the other, each is in the relationship to help the other grow and evolve while achieving same without a motive or hidden agenda. Their connection is not defined by superficial ideals or fleeting moments of passion, like the initial physical attraction which brought them together,  but it has now grown into a strong  commitment to uplift each other.

They both understand and know that true partnership means inspiring each other to step into the fullness of their individual unique beingness flaws and all, without being afraid to dream, and ultimately achieve triumph together. They have realized that love isn't about losing yourself in another person, but finding the other who is like you and you both discovering the uniqueness that lies within you both.

I would like to hear your feedback and comments on these 1) Do you think love should be more important than imperfections? 2) How do you think love Transcends everything?

More to come!

[moochilatv]

Josh Phillips presents: Already Gone

For the lovers, and the lonely people

Josh Phillips is a name that has become synonymous with the music scene of Asheville, NC, the little sleepy mountain town in Western North Carolina that over the past decade, has become a hotbed of artistic talent as well as a destination for arts and culture in the southeastern United States, and has been far less sleepy of late as the town has exploded in population. To be a mainstay and a stalwart in a place like Asheville, an ever-changing city that is full of transplants, speaks volumes about Josh and his music and how much it has meant to the lucky ones who have collided with him and his various musical projects over the last couple decades. As a founding member of Yo Mama's Big Fat Booty Band, Phillips starting earning his reputation as a dynamic and compelling performer, and with the success of the Josh Phillips Folks Festival and their landmark release Wicker, he cemented his place as one of the most relevant songwriters to come out of North Carolina since the turn of the milenia. 

NEW SINGLE "ALREADY GONE" + EXPANDED EP (OUT NOW)

NEW ALBUM 'EVERYTHING'S GOOD' (OUT FRI. 2/7/25)

ALL PROCEEDS FROM SALE OF 'ALREADY GONE' SONG / EP GO TO BENEFIT ASHEVILLE. 

Stream the new single Already Gone:

BIO:

In 2022, Josh Phillips began releasing music under his own name for the first time and over the next eighteen months, released the singles 'Never Ready,' 'Bob and Weave,'Starts to Rain,' and 'How It Is,' to wide critical acclaim. While still containing elements of funk, reggae, and positive indie rock, the songs were, however, darker and more contemplative in nature than previous works, and especially, more personal.  The forthcoming album as a whole serves as both testament and documentation of Josh's navigation through surviving the loss of a soul mate, the end of a true-love relationship, and the struggle of transformation when enduring grief and the dispossession of a life once lived but not forgotten. This struggle is on full display on Everything's Good, a sincere and heartfelt effort at making good, being good, and living good while his world and the whole world turn upside down. There is an urgency in almost every song, heard in Phillips' nuanced vocal delivery of both a solemn and sullen lyricism, towards understanding this turn, and all its heart-wrenching truths, and ultimately, finding peace in pain. It is within this wide breadth of contrasts - the spaces in between - that Everything's Good truly shines.  

The album starts with the hopeful but melancholic 'Never Ready,' a backbeat-fueled and horn-driven romp rife with an indignance and incredulity that seeps through when Phillips asks "...are you addicted to the feeling of leaving? Maybe you're just ready to roll...who knows? Who ya think you're fooling?" ''Til We All Move Forward,' cuts right to the chase stating "I've been holding onto you way too long," which sets the tone for this stirring record. 

On 'Already Gone,' the final single being released before the full album drops, Phillips collaborated with the Asheville Symphony Orchestra. Perhaps the most devastating and certainly one of the most emotional pieces on the album, the orchestral treatment the song received via ASO, perfectly encapsulates the sadness and remorse swirling in Phillip's heart and mind. The agony is real. The affliction is complete. If ever a song could express the passion in anguish, this is it. This is as real as it gets, and the entire album resonates as such. Quite simply, Phillips and crew have created the best break up album in years. 

"This album is a collection of songs I've written over the last twenty years. Just before covid, I decided I had too many songs that I loved and felt had potential to be great and it was depressing me, having them be no more than files in a folder on a computer. I rented a studio space, got the vibe just how I liked it, and recorded this album on and off over three and half years. It is I think hands down the best music we’ve ever made together," explains Phillips when reflecting on the endeavour. 

The album was originally slated for release on October 18th, 2024, but with the Hurricane Helene disaster, the album release was delayed. Phillips, along with every resident of Asheville, NC, found themselves in an unprecedented situation. 

"We were going to put the album out during my favorite festival 'LEAF' on October 17th, but the Hurricane Helene Disaster ravaged through Western NC and changed our whole town's timeline, and quite frankly, our town forever. It thrusted us into an alternate reality, an extremely difficult situation, and was a humbling time for all of us. But, It was also a beautiful time of real community, connectedness, and helping each other. I think we all, collectively, relearned the value of giving your time and resources to others, and that in the end, it’s the only thing we have. It is in that spirit that we decided to partner with CommunityZ RecordZ to use this album that was created in and by our community, and then give back, directly, to the same community." 

With 'Already Gone,' the final single and expanded release EP via CommunityZ RecordZ, all royalties and proceeds from the sale of the EP will go directly to the Asheville disaster relief charity, BeLoved Asheville (BeLovedAsheville.com). CommunityZ RecordZ, a 501c3 charitable record label run by Will Bradford of SeepeopleS and theWorst, and Sparxsea, both friends of Phillips, and Bradford, along with SeepeopleS, former residents of Asheville, aim to save the world, one song, one artist, and one community at a time. The label was created in the same communal spirit as Phillips' record, and with the delayed release due to the disaster, the perfect opportunity arose to release the EP to benefit those affected by the Helene disaster.  

The expanded EP release includes an instrumental as well as the utterly riveting collaboration with the Asheville Symphony, is set for release on January 31st, 2025, with the full album being self-released on February 7th, 2025. The orchestral arrangement for 'Already Gone' was written by Franklin Keel and the accompanying music video was created by Fiasco Media and was directed by David Saich. 

"Working with the Asheville symphony was easily one of the most exciting milestones in my career.  I've patiently and successfully waited on this collaboration. The experience was one of the most exhilarating, nervous, unique, and beautiful memories of my life and I am forever grateful to Franklin Keel for taking his time to arrange it and the symphony for capturing this wonderful moment."

'Already Gone' also serves, in poetic fashion, as the perfect final teaser for Everything's Good, bravely announcing and accepting the challenge of loss, the shock of loneliness, and scrupulously illustrating the desperation felt, both inside and all around. The perfect last bite before you eat the whole cake. 

As a whole, Everything's Good is a deeply personal and intimate compilation of songs as well as a sublime portrait of the internal and external suffering Phillips underwent while navigating the ruins of his past while dealing with the encompassing catastrophe that he and his community, his band mates, closest friends and family, lived through. While Asheville and the surrounding area are months into recovering from Helene, both the town and its inhabitants will never be the same. Like Phillips, Asheville has been transformed, and the weight of grief and loss is only matched by the bright light of possibility and the reality of metamorphosis. With Everything's Good, Phillips is able to achieve the rarest of consummations, a timeless work of art that also, accurately, describes this moment, this time, and this place.  If these offerings serve as a harbinger of the future, it's more than evident that he is rolling out a compelling and persuasive argument, now, for his continued and celebrated relevance, establishing his place - truly - as one of the most dynamic and potent song crafters and performers that Asheville, NC has ever called as their own. With his first album released under his own name, we believe this is now an established fact. 

[glenngaylord]

Gaypocalypse Now - Film Review: Queer ★★★★1/2

William S. Burroughs’ unfinished novella, Queer, tells the story of an alcoholic, junkie American writer named William Lee, who while escaping legal issues in the States, finds himself among other expats in Mexico City circa 1950. He spends his time at a local watering hole or cruising for men in the streets. There he meets and falls for a handsome fellow expat who may or may not be gay. Their connection fuels the story as they go on a surreal journey to better understand their true natures. It’s a semi-autobiographical narrative as told through Burroughs’ prickly yet emotional Beat Generation rhythms.

Luca Guadagnino (Call Me By Your Name) and Challengers screenwriter Justin Kuritzkes seem like the ideal team to adapt Burroughs’ work considering their adeptness with the spectrum of sexuality and sensuality. The results, while often experimental and distancing, not only stay true to Burroughs’ voice, but they also feel cinematically original and thrilling. It may play like a mashup of Death In Venice, Apocalypse Now, Altered States, Naked Lunch, and Burroughs’ own life, but it also has a beautiful love story at its core.

Daniel Craig, doing the best work of his career so far, shatters his suave, stoic Bond image with his gloriously unfiltered William Lee, which not coincidentally served as Burroughs’ early pen name and alter ego. Craig finds a deep well of anguish and passion in this particularly abrasive, difficult man. William stalks the city, often under the influence of one substance or another, zeroing in on men with abandon, such as an early encounter with a local played by singer Omar Apollo. The nearby watering hole, presided over by a hilarious, foppish man named John Dumé (Drew Droege in full Pre-Stonewall, gossipy, Judgy Judy mode), brings Eugene Allerton (Drew Starkey), a former soldier and enigmatically sexy man, to William’s razor sharp attention. Despite several heated sexual encounters, Eugene’s orientation doesn’t come into complete focus.

We also meet William’s friend Joe, an unrecognizable Jason Schwartzman, who steals every scene he’s in with his tales of chasing men. One could easily see a bit of Seth Rogen in his purposefully silly portrayal. His kicking up of his feet in one moment served as an excellent bit of physical comedy.

Around the midpoint, the film switches tone drastically as William and Eugene embark on a long journey through the jungles of Ecuador to find a mind-altering drug which may deepen their relationship. Lesley Manville, also unrecognizable here, gives a startling performance as a researcher of the substance known as yage (aka ayahuasca). As our main characters travel through the heart of darkness, the film gets trippier and trippier as they literally pour their hearts out, culminating in a truly moving finale.

One could easily dismiss this film as pretentious, and in many ways, it is, but for me it serves as subterfuge to undercut what is ultimately a very simple love story. It’s hard to spot the conventions when faced with such a unique tone. Guadagnino and his extraordinary Cinematographer, Sayombhu Mukdeeprom (Call Me By Your Name, Suspiria, Challengers), seemed to have studied Bernardo Bertolucci’s The Conformist and combined its aesthetic with Edward Hopper’s paintings to present perfectly composed, immersive frames for our characters to inhabit. I wanted to live in this world. Making his feature debut as a Production Designer, Stefano Baisi offers up one gorgeous set after another, all filmed in Italy. Between this film and Emilia Perez, also set in Mexico yet shot in Europe, as well as The Substance, with France subbing for Los Angeles, it feels like we’ve entered an era of can’t-quite-put-your-finger-on-it cinematic strangeness. Menswear designer J.W. Anderson outdoes his feature Costuming debut in Challengers with a stunning array of high-waisted pants, knit polos and other Mid-Century creations. Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross switch gears completely from their propulsive Challengers score with something more lush and romantic. Their score gets augmented by anachronistic yet fascinating needle drops by the likes of Sinead O’Connor, Nirvana, and Prince. The work of the crew all adds up to a wonderfully visual and aural experience.

While so much of the story draws from Burroughs’ own life experiences, including a reference to the purportedly accidental shooting of his wife Joan, the filmmakers really shine when exploring the layers of attraction and love. Some may find it silly, and they definitely take risks, but I felt the connection. Sure, the film contains plenty of nudity and sex scenes, but the real heart of this film lies with what’s happening between our two lead actors’ ears.

Starkey serves as a steady, quiet force opposite Craig. He gives very little away while drawing you in, striking that hard to define movie star balance. You completely understand why William wants to figure him out and literally go to the ends of the earth for an answer. When all is said and done, however, this film belongs to Daniel Craig. I won’t soon forget his final scene, highly reminiscent of David Bowie’s work in The Hunger, but very much its own thing as it provides a heartbreaking view of his soul. Queer may feel like an acquired taste for some audiences, but for me, it felt like something bold, fresh and equal parts nihilistic and tender.

Queer opens in theaters on November 27th.

[dfroza]

A link to my personal reading of the Scriptures

for the 18th of november 2024 with a paired chapter from each Testament (the First & the New Covenant) of the Bible

[The Book of Luke, Chapter 13 • The Book of 1st Samuel, Chapter 25]

along with Today’s reading from the ancient books of Proverbs and Psalms with Proverbs 18 and Psalm 18 coinciding with the day of the month, accompanied by Psalm 58 for the 58th day of Astronomical Autumn, and Psalm 23 for day 323 of the year (with the consummate book of 150 Psalms in its 3rd revolution this year)

A post by John Parsons:

Our Torah for this Shabbat (i.e., Vayera) gives the account of the terrible test given to Abraham when God asked him to offer up his son as a sacrifice (see Gen. 22). The apostle James later said that Abraham was "justified by works when he offered his son Isaac upon the altar" (James 2:21), whereas the apostle Paul seemed to say just the opposite, that Abraham was not justified by works (see Rom. 4:1-3). So is there a contradiction here in our Bibles regarding the idea of “justification”?

To answer this first understand that when James said that Abraham was justified "by works" he was referring to the work of faith and certainly not to the works of the law (מַעֲשֵׂי הַתּוֹרָה), since the Torah explicitly prohibited human sacrifice (Gen. 9:5), and furthermore the Angel of the LORD restrained Abraham's hand during the great test of faith (Gen. 22:12) thereby indicating that it was not God's will (i.e., Torah). On the other hand, the apostle Paul's seemingly contrary statement that Abraham was not justified by works refers to Abraham's unwavering trust in God's promise that his descendants would be as numerous as the stars in the heavens (Gen. 15:1-6). There is no real contradiction, then, since the two apostles were referring to two different episodes in their discussion of justification. Faith and works are two sides of the same coin: true faith will show up in your life and character. As Yeshua said, "This is the work of God, that you believe in the One whom He has sent" (John 6:29).

The life of faith is inherently paradoxical, as Kierkegaard noted: "Ethically speaking, what Abraham planned to do was to murder Isaac; religiously, however, he was willing to sacrifice Isaac. In this contradiction lies the very anguish that can indeed make anyone sleepless. And yet without that anguish Abraham is not the one he is. Neither would faith be what it is." Although Abraham understood that God must be obeyed, he also understood that human sacrifice was immoral, and hence his struggle represented the collision between the imperative of reason and the imperative of faith. Choosing to heed the voice of reason (i.e., the "ethical," the "universal") over the personal voice of God created a state of "fear and trembling" and a sense of being unable to communicate his passion and mission to others.

"God cannot stand good works in the sense of earning merit. Yet good works are required. They shall be and yet shall not be. They are necessary and yet one ought humbly to ignore their significance or at least forget that they are supposed to be of any significance. Good works are like a child giving his parents a present, purchased, however, with what the child has received from his parents. All the pretentiousness which otherwise is associated with giving a present disappears when the child understands that he has received from his parents the gift which he gives to them." - Soren Kierkegaard (Fear and Trembling).

As Kierkegaard further commented: "Faith’s conflict with the world is not a battle of thought with doubt, thought with thought. It is a battle of character. The person of faith is a person of character who does not insist upon comprehending everything. Now comes the conflict. The world insists that to believe what you cannot comprehend is not only blind obedience but obscurantism, stupidity, and so on. The world wants to alarm the believer against such foolishness. This is precisely why faith is a task for the person of character."

Note: In the Book of Hebrews we read: "By faith Abraham, when he was tested, offered up Isaac, and he who had received the promises was in the act of offering up his only son, of whom it was said, "Through Isaac shall your offspring be named." Abraham considered that God was able even to raise Isaac from the dead, from which, figuratively speaking, he did receive him back" (Heb. 11:17-19). The Greek text for "from which, figuratively speaking, he did receive him back" (i.e., ὅθεν αὐτὸν καὶ ἐν παραβολῇ ἐκομίσατο; Heb. 11:19b) seems to suggest Abraham believed (beforehand) that God would do a miracle and bring his son back from the dead after being sacrificed, though, of course, saying this does not mean it was therefore “easier” for him to go through with the sacrifice or that it required anything less than a complete surrender of his will to do God's will... The key phrase in 11:19b, however, has to do with receiving Isaac back, and the language here means that he did receive him back from the dead "symbolically" or "figuratively" (i.e., as a "parable").

[ Hebrew for Christians ]

========

Jeremiah 17:14 reading:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/isa26-12-jjp.mp3

Hebrew page:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/isa26-12-lesson.pdf

See also:

The Sacrificed Seed:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Scripture/Parashah/Summaries/Vayera/Akedah/akedah.html

The Passion of Isaac:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Articles/Passion/passion.html

Midrash of the White Ram

https://hebrew4christians.com/Scripture/Parashah/Summaries/Vayera/White_Ram/white_ram.html

Kierkegaard on the Akedah:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Scripture/Parashah/Summaries/Vayera/Fear_and_Trembling/fear_and_trembling.html

-- as well as other related articles on the Hebrew for Christians site.

11.15.24 • Facebook

from Today’s email by Israel365

Today’s message (Days of Praise) from the Institute for Creation Research

[dolokhoded]

Share with us your HC of how Judas fell in love with Jesus and if he knew from the begining! We need some gay drama going on here

okay gay people !!!! didn't wanna post this before i posted the 3rd part of the hcs (jesus, judas, john the baptist) but i'm going to anyways. gay rights !!!!! without giving away too much that will be included in the headcanons anyways,

jesus and judas went to the same university. jesus was in his third year when judas was in his first.

they sort of knew each other from a lot of activist events debates etc etc

little bit of a side note but writing about student activism as a greek person is so difficult i don't understand any of this. when our student union has a problem we just take over the building. we have a whole national holiday about it a bunch of students took over the athens polytechnic in protest against the greek junta. and then the junta entered with tanks and they died.

cops in universities are illegal now.

sorry anyways

they knew of each other. both majored in poli sci.

jesus tried to approach judas a bunch of times. usually when he spotted him at the library and he wasn't yelling at some random kid that tried to explain to him why capitalism is the most effective economic system

ended up helping him with a bunch of projects he also had to do in previous years.

anndd yknow, there's definitely something there

but after he graduated they sort of fell off ? they were never really that close anyways. not for lack of trying on jesus' part but judas is very...defensive. and distant.

anyways. judas graduates, couple years come around, jesus' team is really starting to expand and gain more traction and support and y'know it's going decently

they reunite in the only possible circumstances judas would act like a normal human being and not avoid as much socialization as possible which are he has no house.

judas is currently living with a boyfriend. shitty one. they fight a lot. he storms out on him and realizes he doesn't really have anywhere to go so he just kinda wanders

and he runs into jesus, who's on his way to a meeting with the rest of the group

(i really should give this group a name. it's supposed to have one but i haven't thought of it yet. it would be stupid to have an activist organization without a name pretend that it has a name)

and he sees judas and he's very happy to see him again and he's like hey you should come with me

and judas is very cold. and kind of miserable. and the odds of running into the hot guy from college like half an hour after you pretty much break up are very slim so he's like sure whatever.

long story short, judas joins the team.

and it becomes very evident very clearly that he's very passionate about their work. amongst.,. other things. people.

he doesn't do anything about this of course in true judas fashion he sits alone in anguish screaming crying rolling on the floor etc etc whenever he loses jesus' attention for one second

doesn't even consider that the times he loses jesus' attention?? it's not very often !

jesus claims it's because judas is ''tricky" and he wants to make him feel welcome but like everyone's whispering ang giggling and john sits in a corner with his arms crossed about it and shit.

of course judas doesn't do anything about this. and jesus knows, of course he knows, but he doesn't want to scare him away and is letting him kind of take this at his own pace

it takes them... a very long while. and then they have some weird thing going on between them for an even longer while before they actually talk about it and yes it is excruciating for everyone around them

they figure it out eventually

[shvdwscng]

perhaps he was not the expert in love, but it was difficult not to believe otherwise. or perhaps that next to herself, those who were warm as him understood it better than most. it was jarring to think that once, alina didn't value these traits in another, didn't care for them. what drawn her to cedrian initially, then, aside from his devil handsome features, it had certainly been his witty mind and mouth, his rather exceptional skills in the bedroom. yet, she had come to realize quickly, she had not remained with him for those reasons, he'd nestled into her heart because of his kindness, his patience, his devotion, the one that almost broke her every time was, his tenderness. that he may have given her without intending to. she fell for him because souls like his were rare in their realm. in a realm where greed and power run rampant, there was cedrian, who chased loved and happiness, valued them over power. he'd shown her all that believed he no longer possessed, offered her true affections, a deep care for her well-being in a manner that left her puzzled. despite how much she kept him at arms length, as well as she managed with him, he'd seem to tear through her defenses so quickly before she fully grasp what had occurred. her breath hitches when ced states he wished to give her more, and she's glad he holds that for now. her response is the slight tightening of her hand on his chest. alina was quick a study, but nothing could prepare for her on how to process all the array of emotions that raged within her and all that would not settle. she suspects it will not for sometime ; from decades of numbness to a wealth of emotions. "i see one side of it, ced." she tells him honestly, why he was drawn to her initially, and she hoped to keep it that way until now."i also understand that in some manner, whatever i had done, relieved you of your grief and heartbreak." she was not the mender of hearts, but she realized she had for his in some form. "you've not done this in some time - allowed yourself to enjoy the attentions or the physical affections of a woman this way. i don't think you intended or wished to feel anything for me other than the passion we share. i do not mean this in a slight at all, to myself or towards you, but i also suspect you wished to placed aside your grief, and your troubles over your children in our affair, for a time." alina did and didn't fully understand, but she suspected he would ensure she did over time.

his words send a fresh wave of anguish through her, along with relief that he no longer believed he didn't deserve love. "you say that as if you took her life. you deserve it regardless of what you believe." her words gentle, and firm the same, she is forced to meet his gaze, her heart swells as greater warmth nestle in her heart, his words of her once more humbling her. alina simply watches as he probes into her gaze, seemingly liking what he does find as she watches his features form into a familiar smirk laced with his tenderness. she had ignored the look for a time, until she could not. "you can as it's your strength is not something i have ever questioned." the words were a low murmur, an odd feeling to ever experience something akin to bashfulness, unnerving truly that someone could draw such a feeling from. she knew it was a dark period, he never uttered a word and she wondered now if it was because he couldn't bring himself to speak of lady ellena without crumbling. alina wished more than anything she could have protected him from that heartbreak, but that is something no one truly could protect another from. the next best thing she had wanted to do was to protect him from herself, and she accepts he doesn't want that. "are you children faring better?" it was a subject of grief, no doubt, being away from there. if she had the ability she would some way to reunite him with his children, so he had one less thing to worry about. he worried for them, and so did alina. "i would not to be so certain of that, perhaps not now you do not now, maybe later. it's not all a bad thing you are allowed to express my shortcomings."

she didn't wish for him to peer to closely at her, always afraid of what he might find. the weight of his gaze most days was more than she could bear, simply because of what it and he did to her. she also did not look into his for long as she knew if she did for long, she would drown in them. she had no choice in that matter, she had drowned in him entirely that as days went by, she found it difficult to part from him. she averts her gaze only to gather her thoughts and to collect herself, but it is an impossible task when his warm hand cups her cheek, the warmth of his touch flooding her every sense as she leans into it. his touch was both a comfort, and a fiery trail of fire that always that set alina aflame. a deep longing she did not allow herself accept until now. she swallows as his assurance comes, once more rocked to her core that he believed the best of her. "not always. however, i am blessed that you will not condemn for it." fates, she hoped he remained this way when she offered every secret, every deed, she was ashamed of. cedrian understood that it was not regret she could ever feel, that if need be she would do it again. she felt his arm tightened around her frame, she wondered if it was his attempt to comfort her. alina doesn't say that that she would want him always, he understood that she has not ever done any of this. gave her heart, allowed herself to love or be loved and if she did now, it would not disappear for him. "you know me, so i believe you know you know the answer to this." she murmurs, meeting his gaze. after revealing she loved him, a part of her remained in shock, the other words lodging in her throat. "i did not believe so, either." for a time she did not, and buried her feelings for him until it was pulled from her. when his request came, her lips parted, hovering near his, there was do doubt of where she wished to be in this moment - alone with him. "yes." alina knew there struggles far from over, much awaited them in dusk and outside of it but that would be a worry for next day. she slipped her hand in his allowing her to guide him to his chambers, her safehaven.

he  shakes  his  head,  love  wasn't  something  he  entirely  understood.  it  wasn't  really  something  he  chose.  cedrian  had  agreed  to  her  terms  easily,  thinking  that  they  could  simply  use  one  another  and  feelings  would  remain  out  of  it.  love  felt  otherwise.  "  that's  not  entirely  true.  "  he  says  easily.  he  may  understand  that  he  loves  alina,  and  all  the  reasons  why,  but  that  didn't  mean  he  was  som  master  of  the  language.  love  was  part  of  the  fates,  out  of  his  hands.  her  next  words  settle  into  his  chest,  and  he  can  feel  a  warmth  begin  to  grow  alongside  a  sadness.  she  doesn't  see  herself  how  he  did,  but  maybe  he  could  help  her  to  some  day.  she  deserved  so  much,  it  nearly  shattered  his  heart  to  hear  her  think  otherwise.  her  admission  of  longing  to  be  loved,  to  feel  what  it  was  like  hits  him  with  a  force  that  makes  his  breath  hitch.  alina  may  not  have  been  raised  with  love  and  affection,  but  she  had  the  capacity  to  feel  it  on  such  a  level  it  almost  confused  him.  she  tried  to  hide  her  heart  beneath  layers  of  steel  and  logic.  he  still  saw  it.  "  oh,  i  still  have  quite  a  lot�� for  you,  alina.  "  he  promises,  not  overwhelming  her  by  continuing  on  right  now.  as  their  gazes  meet  once  more,  he  feels  his  own  vulnerability  simmer.  she  saw  him  with  those  honey  eyes,  even  when  he'd  tried  not  to  let  a  soul  do  so.  "  you  truly  don't  see  what  you've  done  to  me,  do  you  ?  "  she  brought  a  light  to  him  that  had  been  extinguished.  he'd  mostly  recovered  from  the  loss  of  his  late  wife,  but  a  piece  of  him  had  been  deadened  and  alina  revived  it.  she  restarted  his  heart.  a  dry  chuckle,  but  he  doesn't  argue.  he'll  show  her  otherwise.

he  loved  looking  at  her,  the  beauty  of  her  face  held  nothing  to  the  parts  of  her  inside  those  eyes  of  hers.  she  was  a  creature  of  everlasting  perfection  to  him,  even  with  broken  and  sharp  edges.  the  vision  he  had  of  her  may  not  be  what  most  thought  of  as  perfection,  he  wanted  her  with  her  flaws  as  well.  "  i  didn't  think  i  deserved  to  love  again,  you  changed  that.  "  he  smirks,  watching  her,  feeling  each  thought  flutter  behind  her  eyes.  this  wasn't  meant  to  be  a  moment  in  front  of  anyone,  privacy  everything  between  them.  as  their  gazes  hold,  he  forgets  they  aren't  alone  at  all.  and  he  may  have  known  he  had  her,  but  hearing  it  only  continues  to  warm  his  soul.  they  do  belong  to  one  another,  as  much  as  they  can  as  they  rule  their  courts.  cedrian  shakes  his  head,  alina  may  very  well  be  a  storm,  but  he  wanted  every  part  of  her,  even  those.  "  and  i  can  withstand  any  storm.  "  he  says  softly.  he  was  strong,  though  he  didn't  think  she  thought  him  weak.  she  was  just  more  used  to  protecting  everyone  in  her  life  –  now  that  included  him.  cedrian  did  the  same  thing,  it  was  difficult  to  break  from  the  pattern.  his  heart  clenches  when  she  talks  of  ellena,  a  bittersweet  ache  in  his  chest.  she  tals  of  his  late  wife  so  kindly  he  doesn't  know  how  he  managed  to  deserve  it.  "  losing  her  was  the  darkest  time  i've  ever  faced.  "  he  confirms.  "  but  that  pain  has  mostly  been  soothed.  "  he  still  struggled  to  see  his  children,  to  know  that  they  wouldn't  have  memories  of  their  mother  as  they  deserved.  he  might  tell  alina  about  it  someday,  but  for  now  he  just  wished  she  could  meet  them.  "  i  have  nothing  poor  to  say  of  you,  love.  "  he  says  easily,  only  offering  her  a  chuckle  in  answer  to  her  question.  he  just  had  a  way  with  words.

his  hands  continue  to  hold  her,  but  one  drifts  up,  brushes  her  hair  back  and  cups  the  side  of  her  face.  he  doesn't  want  her  eyes  drifting  from  his  own,  they  tell  him  far  more  than  her  lips  ever  do.  his  eyes  drift  closed  when  her  face  touches  his  own,  breaking  the  contact  he  loves  only  to  relish  in  one  better.  their  skin  touching  always  sets  a  fire  in  his  soul,  a  yearning  for  her  to  offer  more.  he  shrugs  lightly,  "  you've  done  as  you've  needed  to.  "  he  says  with  ease.  he  refuses  to  believe  otherwise.  "  no,  because  i  know  there  is  more  to  it  than  you  seem  to  think  in  your  actions.  "  he  very  well  could  be  a  harsh  high  lord  when  a  punishment  was  needed,  ced  just  didn't  often  have  to  show  that  side  of  himself.  he  blinks,  the  quiet  certainty  in  her  words  astonishing  him.  his  grip  on  her  tightens,  as  if  the  action  could  wash  away  her  fears.  "  i  think  that  should  be  said  as  how  ever  long  you  wish  to  have  me.  "  corrects  the  day  lord.  he  never  wished  to  see  a  moment  he  could  lose  her,  it  would  shatter  him  entirely.  cedrian  pulls  back,  only  enough  to  look  into  her  eyes.  "  i  didn't  think  you'd  let  yourself.  "  admits  he  in  a  light  voice.  but  gods,  he  was  so  thankful  she  did.  it  didn't  make  things  easier,  but  it  certainly  made  his  heart  swell.  "  come  to  bed  with  me.  "  he  whispers,  as  if  they  are  still  but  a  secret.  in  truth,  all  he  wants  in  this  moment  is  to  be  alone  with  her.

[xanhlaxalanh]

Since I was young, I have watched movies and read books from Japan about the wars that occurred around the world, in Vietnam, and in Japan. I have observed the common consequences of war left on the land of my homeland and Japan. In Vietnam, the lingering effects of the toxic Agent Orange have caused many ordinary people to become disabled, even affecting future generations from within the womb. In Japan, a country that already had limited resources, there is radiation contamination, with plants that no one dares to eat, and people suffering and dying in agony. Even until now, there are still areas that remain contaminated. I wonder how people can be so cruel, inventing weapons with the capability of destroying the entire world, annihilating the civilization that humanity took thousands of years to build. I don't understand, and I have pondered over it extensively.

Now, as I have grown up, I have read many books, learned a lot, traveled to many places, and met many people. However, there are still books I haven't read and things I don't know about. The story of the atomic bomb or nuclear weapons and Oppenheimer is something I have never known before.

I myself am not particularly intelligent or outstanding in the field of natural science, so I don't remember much about mathematics, physics, or chemistry. But I do know that engineers and scientists are often incredibly romantic and idealistic in their own way. Like reaching for the stars for the one they love, they truly think in literal terms and want to turn those impossible dreams into reality. Oppenheimer, being a physicist, was no different. He pondered the existence, presence, and disappearance of stars and the things considered to be material in this world. And the atomic bomb was just a manifestation of his thoughts, a result of his actions. He must have struggled between his passion and the consequences of his research. But he was a scientist, and his field was scientific research. How that research was utilized was not something he could control. What he did was driven by his passion for science, the purpose of his life as a scientific genius, whether it led to peace or war, selfishness or greatness, was not a rationale for his own mind.

And everything changed when Oppenheimer's research on the atomic bomb was successful. From being a scientific genius, he felt like a criminal, a harbinger of death. He was filled with remorse and guilt for those who perished because of his research. He longed for redemption, for forgiveness.

It's fortunate that there were still people who understood him, who stood by his side. But for the rest of his life, he lived with a torment that not everyone could comprehend. Many people, like myself when I was young, saw him as a grim reaper, as a destroyer for inventing such a devastating weapon.

However, the true culprits are those political masterminds, not the scientists. They are the ones who desire world domination, who seek power and sleep soundly with blood on their hands. They are the ones who believe they can govern the world for the greater good, but in reality, they don't care about what the world thinks or how innocent lives are sacrificed. They only care about their own ideals.

I truly immerse myself in Oppenheimer's world, as if I understand his thoughts. I feel the joy of carrying out his research, like Prometheus bringing fire to humanity. I feel the pain of people seeing him as a grim reaper, as a sinner in the eyes of God for bestowing godlike power upon mankind. And I feel the torment and anguish in his soul, as if he is burning his own conscience. "What should I do when I didn't want this, but everything has already happened? I want redemption, is it possible?"

He is an angel stripped of his wings, not someone who wanted to become the grim reaper.

For myself, I admire his brilliant mind, detest war, and those who deem themselves as rulers. Yes, they have their own ideals, and life is not simply black or white, right or wrong. But we are all human beings, and we should not, in the name of our ideals, commit senseless killings of innocent people. Do you agree?

I am always curious and eager to explore the world. My brain works even when I sleep, and in the inner world of my dreams, everything becomes vibrant and colorful. Therefore, I can perceive the joy and the pain of others. But what can I, a small human, do? Oppenheimer, I am just a little girl who understands you in an insignificant way. Even without you, there would still be other weapons, other creators of bombs serving warfare. I appreciate the contributions you have made to this world.

It is truly saddening when a genius becomes just a tool. It is heartbreaking when our ideals become a crime. It is devastating when we think we are angels, only to discover that we have become demons. It is agonizing when our hands are stained with blood, yet we are accused of being soaked in lies. It is sorrowful when we cannot find redemption, only tormenting ourselves. It is disheartening when right and wrong are no longer clear. It is mournful when our limited strength cannot compensate for the damages inflicted. It is distressing when both geniuses and fools alike experience such profound feelings of failure in life.

Perhaps I am too melancholic and empathetic, but I truly sense how deeply I love peace, the world, and nature itself. In the end, I gain a better understanding of myself and of this world. It is a significant step in my world.