#[security is a myth].verse

[jtargaryen18]

Under His Skin ~ Chapter 12

Series Masterlist

Words: 7.4k

Pairing: Jonathan Crane aka Scarecrow (Nolan!verse Batman) x F Reader

Warnings: Emotional manipulation, explicit sex, oral (m receiving).

When Scarecrow confronted you in the gallery, you were supposed to realize how dangerous the world beyond Jonathan was. Instead, you couldn't get it out of your head...

Disclaimer:The author of this work claims no ownership of characters aside from the reader, and original secondary characters mentioned. This work is not intended for those under the age of 18 due to explicit sexual content and darker themes. By reading this work or any works on my blog (jtargaryen18), you agree that you are at least 18 years of age. I do not consent to have my work hosted on any third party app or site.

The rain fell steadily outside, a soft percussion against the windows that made the house feel warmer by comparison, like a cocoon. 

Jonathan had been up for hours, as was his habit. The early hours offered him silence, and the space to think without interruption. And this morning, especially, he needed that space.

She was still asleep upstairs. It had been necessary to teach her a lesson last night, with the smoke, the masked confrontation, and her trembling confession in the gallery. A lesson in fear. A reminder of the world outside this house, outside of him. A reminder that monsters weren’t a myth. They had shape with eyes sewn shut and mouths carved open. It had the added benefit of severing the last meaningful tie she had beyond him.

Lexi. She’d been a nuisance from the start. The kind of friend who pulled you back from cliffs, and into obligations. Lexi had given her a sense of normalcy, a before to cling to when everything else was shifting. 

But the Scarecrow had changed all that with chaos, smoke, and terror. Lexi had taken the worst of it by design. Jonathan hadn’t expected the woman to completely snap. But he’d counted on her cracking, needing an out. And he was right. He had accessed Lexi’s ER records a little while ago. The system wasn’t secure when you knew how to look. 

Lexi had arrived just after 9 PM, agitated with an elevated heart rate, shallow breathing. Temporary visual distortion. The diagnosis was an acute panic episode with environmental trigger.

Patient advised to limit exposure to triggering environments. Recommends discontinuation of high-stress work setting. Strongly advises against return to place of trauma.

Jonathan smiled faintly. Perfect.

There would be no more gallery. Lexi would pull away at her husband's urging. And she, Jonathan’s girl, would have no choice but to let go.

He made a note in the margin of his field journal: Subject exhibited sustained cognitive function and protective instincts despite sub-threshold exposure. Fear response intact, willpower unfractured.

She’d passed his test last night in ways that fascinated him. She hadn’t collapsed into hysteria, or frozen or run. Instead, she’d moved to protect Lexi, staying upright and focused. Even under the influence of a microdose of his toxin, diffused through a custom smoke bomb, she’d shown uncommon resilience. Her pupils had dilated, and her breathing had spiked. But she hadn’t broken.

Cognitively present under a fear stimulus. It had all played out just as he’d planned where she called him, needed him.

And yet… Jonathan hadn’t liked the look in her eyes as she stood in the ruins, with blood on her arm and silence between every word. Something had shifted. Not in her trust in him, but in her own sense of self. 

He’d meant to frighten her. But she hadn’t run to him. Instead, she’d turned inward. Even when she’d approached him later, her voice soft, pleading--Make me forget--he recognized the pattern. It hadn’t been surrender or a gift to him, but a means of escape. A desperate attempt to flush the memory of the gallery from her system, even for a night. It unsettled him.

I should’ve modulated the dose. I should’ve used the toxin on someone else, just out of sight. Let her hear it, smell it, but not breathe it. Too much risk of psychological dissociation.

Jonathan rose and headed into the kitchen, putting a kettle on for her tea. He could hear her stirring now, and he wanted her to find comfort waiting. When the whistle rose, sharp and brief, he moved without hurry. He steeped the blend precisely, adding the compound last, just a microdose of the same stabilizer he’d slipped into her wine once or twice before. She was always easier to reach with a little less noise in her head.

When he returned to the study, the rain still whispered against the windows. Five minutes passed.

A soft knock at his door had him looking up. “Come in,” he said, smiling.

She peeked in first, then stepped fully into the room. Her hair was damp from the shower, and he could smell just a hint of the jasmine and rain-scented products she'd used. But it was the sweater she wore that caught his attention. His. It dwarfed her frame, the sleeves just a little too long for her. But seeing her wear it pleased him. Possession made soft. 

“There you are,” she said gently, holding a half-empty tea cup in her hand. “I thought I was alone.” 

“I wouldn’t leave you alone," he said. "Not after last night.”

She gave a small smile, the lines of her body seemed relaxed. The tea was working. 

“Thank you,” she said, lifting the cup slightly. “You make the best tea I've ever had.” 

Jonathan smiled faintly. Of course she liked it; he’d designed it to feel like peace and safety.

His gaze drifted over her one more time, lingering with subtle approval. “You look comfortable.” 

“It's a little chilly today," she explained. "I... I hope this is okay.” 

It's more than okay. He'd never get tired of her wearing his clothes, reaching for pieces of him without realizing it. That did more to reassure him about her state of mind than anything she could’ve said.

Jonathan gestured to the chair across from him. “Join me?” 

“Only if you don’t mind the interruption," she said carefully. 

“I never do.” And that was true, as long as he was the one who decided when and how the interruption occurred.

He watched her settle into the chair across from his desk, the oversized sweater slipping down her bare shoulder. There wasn't a strap there. She's not wearing a bra? Jonathan loved her like that, so soft and vulnerable. At ease with him in a way no one else ever had been.

They talked for a few moments about the rain, about his work this morning. About how she slept. He closed his notebook, setting the pen down beside it with quiet finality. 

“Actually,” he said, rising from his chair, “there’s something I want to show you.”

She nodded, following him through the hall, past the curve of the staircase, and up the steps to the second floor. He didn’t explain. No, he just let the anticipation build as they reached the far end of the hall where one of the smaller bedrooms sat unused. Earlier that morning, before he'd ever settled into his study, he’d cleared it out. Jonathan swept up the dust, opened the blinds to let in the light from the east-facing window. He'd pulled an old easel from storage that he used to use sometimes in his lectures at the university. He set it up to suggest possibility. 

Now, he opened the door with her on his heels. The room was bright despite the stormy skies outside. It was spare, but clean. One corner was already rearranged for her, quietly staged like an open invitation. 

“It’s not much yet,” Jonathan said, stepping aside so she could enter first. “But I thought this might be a good space for your art.”

She stood there, speechless for a moment. Her eyes moved around the room like she was painting the walls in her mind already. 

“You did this for me?” she asked. 

“It’s yours, if you want it.”

She turned to look at him, eyes wide, voice almost soft with disbelief. “I—I’ve never had my own studio before. I used to ask Ares if I could have a room in our house when we finally found one… He always said, ‘I’ll think about it.’” Her gaze swept the room again, her eyes lit up. “This is wonderful.”

Of course Ares said that. Indecision masquerading as control. A passive leash, and she thought that was normal. The fact that a bare room with a window could unravel her like this… She’s so easy to give to. So easy to keep.

She walked slowly toward the window, running her hand along the sill. “This will be… perfect,” she murmured. “I don’t even know what to say.” 

Jonathan let her have the moment, let it fill her with hope. 

She turned to him suddenly, eyes shining, and then without warning, she threw her arms around him. Her reaction was pure emotion, spontaneous joy. Her body pressed against his, soft and warm beneath the sweater. And no, she wasn't wearing a bra. The realization hit like a live wire beneath his skin, but he filed it away with clinical calm and a quiet, rising heat he refused to let surface. 

Later.

For now, he simply returned the embrace, wrapping his arms around her smaller frame.

When she pulled back, still smiling, he gazed into her eyes. “I can pick up a few supplies for you tomorrow. On my way home.”

Her eyes lit up again, wide and earnest. “You’d really do that?” 

“Of course. You should have everything you need to get started.”

She looked around the room again like she could already see canvases lining the walls. A small life blooming in a corner of a house she hadn’t even known she needed. 

“I don’t know how to thank you,” she whispered.

He reached up, tracing a finger down the side of her face. “Just use it.”

Her eyes fluttered briefly at his touch. “I will. I promise.” 

Good. Paint your heart out. Stay long enough to forget you ever had a life outside this one.

Dinner had been nothing extravagant, just the two of you in his kitchen, laughing as you dropped pasta into boiling water and made a mess of the sauce together. His sweater still hung loose on your frame, the sleeves rolled up just enough to keep from dragging them through anything.

Now, the plates were washed, and you were curled up on the couch while Jonathan sat next to you, focused on the TV. He cycled through movie titles like it was a ritual. And you watched him, the confident set of his shoulders, his precise movements. He always took his time with this, like the movie choice mattered more than it did.

Your second glass of wine was half gone, and the warmth of it lingered in your chest, softening the corners of your thoughts. You weren’t tipsy per se, just content. You moved closer to him on the couch, letting one leg rub against his. 

“You always take so long in choosing,” you teased him, hoping you came across as suggestive.

Jonathan cut you a side glance, faintly amused. “It’s a serious decision.”

“Mmm. Is it?” you asked, trailing your fingers slowly up his arm, over the grey dress shirt he wore.

His gaze shifted to you again and back.

“Do we need a movie?” you asked softly. “Maybe we’ve had enough… distractions today.”

His hand paused on the remote. And you saw the shift in his expression. The exact moment he understood what you were trying to do.

“You’re feeling bold tonight,” he said, setting the remote down on the coffee table in front of him. 

“Maybe.” You shifted again, your hand moving to make quick work of the buttons on his shirt. He didn’t move, or try to stop you.

Jonathan liked control. It hadn't taken you long to discover he liked being the one to decide when and how. If he decided to take over, you'd relinquish control. For now, you wanted to see how far you'd get. 

Your hand slid down to his leather belt, working it open. "Is this okay?"

His voice sent a ripple down your spine. “It is now.”

Your heart flew in anticipation. When you finished with the belt, your fingers plucked open his slacks, and brushed against his abdomen where his shirt had parted just slightly. His skin was warm, and beneath it, you could feel the tension building in his body.

Jonathan lifted one hand, touching your wrist. His touch was light and barely there. A reminder that he was allowing this. 

“You know,” he murmured, leaning in close, “I was planning to be good tonight.”

But something in his silence made you hesitate. Your hand froze. “And now? I mean, if you don’t want to…”

You didn’t finish the thought. It felt foolish as soon as you said it, but the words were already there, exposed.

Jonathan's mouth brushed against the curve of your ear. “Now I’m curious what you think bold really means.”

The heat in his voice unraveled your doubt like thread. You steadied your hand, sliding it just beneath the waistband of his trousers. “Why don’t I show you?”

His eyes darkened at that, but he still didn’t take over. He was watching you, letting you set the pace. Letting you pretend you were the one in charge. And it thrilled you.

Sliding off the couch without a word, you lowered yourself to your knees in front of him. The room was quiet except for the soft, ongoing patter of the rain outside.

Jonathan watched you, silent and still. His hands rested lightly on his thighs as you moved between them. His gaze didn’t waver. His glacial blue eyes followed every shift, every breath, every tremor in your fingers as they ghosted up the insides of his legs. The muscle there was tight and controlled. You felt the tension, the restraint just beneath his skin, and part of you marveled that he was letting you do this at all.

You grasped the top of his slacks, hands slipping under the band of his boxers. You looked up, held his gaze. “May I?” you asked softly. You weren't teasing or playful. When it came to sex, Jonathan was nothing but serious. Your careful request was real.

For a heartbeat, he just studied you. And in that moment, something shifted in his expression. Dark hunger and possession.

“Yes,” he said quietly. “But only because you asked so beautifully.”

He helped you pull his slacks down past his slim hips and the muscular length of his thighs. Once his slacks were pooled around his ankles, you took a deep breath. The scent of him drove you on, and you slowly slid your hands up the inside of his thighs. All the while, his darkened gaze stayed on you.

You were confident in your ability to give a good blow job. Ares stayed so tired and busy with his work that you probably did that for him more often than the two of you had sex. Sometimes, that was the only way you could get your fiancé's attention. 

And all you wanted to do here was show Jonathan your appreciation for so many things. He'd been there for you when you needed someone, moved you into his house to keep you safe. Today, he'd selflessly given you a room you could make your own art studio. You weren't sure what you'd done to deserve such generosity, such care. All you knew was that you wanted to do something to make him happy. 

Before your hands reached his cock, red and hard, standing at attention against his tummy, your gaze met his. "May I touch you?" you asked quietly.

Jonathan nodded, but the heat in his blue eyes gave him away. He wanted to see what you meant by bold. You wanted to make this good for him. 

You got your hands on him, stroking him carefully with your hands, learning him. His cock was as immaculate as the rest of him, and you wanted to worship his body the way he did yours. Leaning in, you nuzzled his cock while you gently stroked him, taking your time. Your hands moved over him just as carefully, exploring his shaft, his sac beneath. When you started pressing soft kisses over his head, down the shaft, you felt his thighs tense around your ribs. His response only encouraged you.

Glancing up at him through your lashes, you teased the head of him with the tip of your tongue. Watching those pale blue eyes darken, hearing the huff of his breath, was all the incentive you needed. Keeping your gaze on him, you pulled the head of him into your mouth while your hands caressed the rest of him. 

You pulled out every trick you knew, working him further into your mouth slowly. You'd tease him with your tongue and hands until his lips parted as he watched you. You'd stop then, taking him to the back of your throat with each pass. When his hands slid into your hair, you hummed around him as you slid him in and out of your mouth. When his hands took control of your movements, you allowed it. 

"You're such a good girl," Jonathan whispered as his hands guided you to move faster, to take him to the back of your throat. "My beautiful, perfect girl."

Again, you hummed around him, rewarded by the flex of his thighs around you. You were letting him fuck your face now, gagging here and there with tears beginning to spill from your eyes. You loved drawing a reaction from him for a change. Loved that you could make him come undone. Your heart raced as you held on.

"I'm going to come," Jonathan said, sounding breathless. "You're going to swallow everything... like a good girl. Can you do that for me?"

You nodded the best you could with a mouth full of cock and his hands gripping your head. 

His movements sped up, his grip on you tightened, both his fingers on your scalp and his thighs around your torso. His breath came fast, and because you could, you tried to take him deeper each time he pulled your head down on his cock. When you gagged, you pulled a soft sound from him, almost like a low sob. When you did it again, Jonathan tensed. Color flooded his face and chest as he fought not to come, to draw it out just a little longer.

When he finally came, all you could do was hang on and let him work himself through it. He fucked your face hard, his short nails lightly scraping your scalp as he went. His thighs gripped you hard, restricting your air almost as much as your efforts to suck in breaths around him. Jonathan threw his head back, one long moan breaking up the silence as he let the orgasm shake him.

And as you'd been instructed, you swallowed every drop he gave you, eager to make him happy. You stayed there, not moving until his grip on you eased. His eyes closed, his head resting on the back of the couch. Slowly, you lifted your head, swallowing as your gaze moved over him. You loved seeing him wrecked and breathless, your heart clenching in your chest.

After a couple of minutes, his hand slid along your cheek, his thumb tracing your lower lip gently. 

"Did you swallow?" he asked after a moment, his deep voice making you shiver. "Let me see."

Obediently, you opened your mouth so he could do just that. Jonathan hummed as he nodded, looking pleased. 

"You're my perfect girl," he whispered before leaning in to kiss your mouth, a dirty kiss that was all lips and tongue. You knew he could taste himself as he kissed you deeply. "That felt amazing."

His words of praise washed over you, leaving you so pleased and proud of yourself. You'd made him happy. You helped him pull his slacks back up, button up his shirt. As soon as he was tucked back into his clothes, he urged you up from the floor to sit at his side on the couch. 

You were sleepy, happy to snuggle into his side as he started scrolling through movies again. He found a film he wanted to watch quickly, before grabbing the blanket he'd left on the back of the couch, draping it over you and wrapping an arm around you as the movie started. You nodded off not long after that.

Jonathan watched her breathing deepen as she settled against him, her body warm, her trust complete.

Good girl. The corners of his mouth lifted. She’d taken him off guard with the blowjob--unprompted, deliberate, and entirely focused on him. But what lingered most wasn’t the act itself, it was how she’d done it. The way she sought his approval with every glance, every movement. The way she’d asked permission, waited for it, and then gave herself fully to the task of pleasing him.

She’d made him struggle to retain control--truly struggle--and that alone had seared the memory into his mind.

But what pleased him more, what genuinely satisfied him, was that she had thought it through. Not as manipulation, not as some calculated seduction with a reward in mind. But simply because she wanted to be what he needed. There had been no artifice or emotional bargaining. Just willing submission, tender and exacting. That was devotion he sought. It was everything he wanted.

Shifting in her sleep, she stretched out on the couch with her head in his lap like she’d always been his. Jonathan couldn't help but gaze down at her, his fingers tracing over the delicate lines of her face as she breathed softly against his leg.

She’s nearly there. Yes, she was dependent on him, grateful for all his help. But her submission to him wasn't complete. Not until her world began and ended with him. She still had ghosts--Ares, Lexi, the gallery, her own guilt. But Jonathan was weaving himself into every corner of her life now, and she allowed it. Bit by bit, thread by thread, she was becoming someone who didn’t just love him, she needed him. That was the goal. 

The doors of Arkham hissed closed behind him, sealing him into a world that finally belonged to him. Jonathan didn't rush. He never did. His pace was measured as he crossed the main lobby with the quiet certainty of a man walking into what he was owed. Staff moved around him like shadows, always respectful and careful. He liked that.

Mr. Halsey, chairman of Arkham Asylum's board of directors, was waiting near the elevators for him, too early and too eagerly.

“Dr. Crane,” he greeted, practically glowing. “I was hoping to catch you. I have very good news this morning.”

Jonathan’s brow lifted, polite. “I suspected.”

“The board voted unanimously late last night. It’s official. You are now the Chief Administrator of Arkham Asylum.”

A pause. Jonathan accepted the words with a slow nod. “Thank you.”

“There’s more,” Halsey added, eyes gleaming with boardroom delight. “Your credentials far exceed those of Dr. Katsaros’. You’ll find the compensation for the position now reflects that, Dr. Crane. And we’ve already had inquiries from a few larger donors looking to tour the facility under your new leadership.”

Jonathan felt something cold and quiet settle into place. Power, influence, all the fruits of everything he’d set in motion were now his. For so long, he'd been the one in the shadows--brilliant, overlooked, and tolerated. A man spoken of in credentials, not conversations. Jonathan Crane was too cerebral, too severe. A necessary evil the administration barely understood.

But now the entire institution bore his signature. His structure and ideology would be fully implemented. Every locked door, every patient evaluation, every budget meeting and board memo--it would all pass through him. And none of them had the faintest idea what he planned to do with that power.

Jonathan didn’t need the title to feel important. But the title made it official, and the world would have to look him in the eye now and say it out loud. Dr. Jonathan Crane. Chief Administrator.

It had a satisfying permanence. The money wasn't something he needed, with the League funding his real work. It was the control he valued. That was currency.

And better still, Ares Katsaros, the beloved, affable fool, was gone. Erased, piece by piece. Arkham was his now. The future his to engineer. Jonathan wasn't just part of the system now. He was the architect. And no one builds fear quite like the architect.

“There will be a private dinner Friday evening,” Halsey continued. “A quiet celebration. Just the board, a few key donors, and Mr. Wayne, who’s recently returned to Gotham and confirmed his attendance this morning.”

Jonathan’s expression didn’t falter, but the name hit like a needle under the skin. Bruce Wayne. Of course. Gotham’s golden son, and the board’s favorite fundraising accessory.

“Of course,” Jonathan said evenly.

“We’d love for you to attend, of course,” Halsey went on, lowering his voice slightly now, conspiratorially. “And… well, many of our board members are aware of just how supportive you’ve been of Dr. Katsaros’ fiancée after his unfortunate breakdown. She's such a bright, lovely young woman.”

Jonathan’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. Of course they were aware. Of course they’d been watching.

“She’s resilient,” he replied smoothly, folding his hands behind his back. “Grace under pressure. The board isn’t wrong to admire that.”

But, in reality, they were using her, his girl, for optics. Her grief, her loyalty, her composure, all of it, packaged and polished for a fundraiser. And while he understood the strategy, even admired it in theory… the idea of her being paraded before donors, especially under the glow of Wayne’s return? He didn't like it. She wasn’t a symbol. She was his.

“I think the story writes itself,” Halsey said with a faint smile. “You stepping into the role, helping her find new purpose after such tragedy. It’s… human and warm. It makes our institution look compassionate and progressive. If she were willing to accompany you as your guest, it would go a long way.”

“She’s not a public figure,” Jonathan replied carefully.

“Of course not. But no one’s asking for interviews,” Halsey assured, his tone casual but pointed. “Just an appearance. You two attending together. A symbol of recovery and stability. It would be very well received.”

Jonathan exhaled slowly. For a moment, the image of her beside him at such an event stirred something contradictory. Pride, undeniably. She was beautiful, luminous, and poised. Their appearance together would be the very picture of composure in the aftermath of tragedy. A living embodiment of Arkham’s supposed triumph over darkness.

But the attention was a liability. She'd be photographed and watched. And while the board hadn’t dared to state it outright, he could read between the lines. They suspected. They didn’t know for sure, but they saw the way she appeared in his orbit. Her sudden proximity along with the timing. The board didn’t need or care about facts. They needed a narrative. And a grieving fiancée gently supported by her institutionalized partner’s successor? That was PR gold.

They didn’t care how real it was. Just that it looked good. He would need to prepare her. But the answer would still be yes.

He inclined his head. “I’ll speak to her.”

“Excellent.” Halsey clapped him lightly on the shoulder, missing entirely the flash of tension that gesture provoked. “This is going to be a new era for Arkham, Jonathan. You’re the future.”

Jonathan gave a thin smile. One that didn’t reach his eyes. “Yes,” he murmured. “I am.”

The afternoon sky was still grey, the rain softening to a mist against the high windows. The office was larger than his last, Ares Katsaros’ old domain, stripped now of warmth and personality. Jonathan preferred it that way. Now it was clean and orderly. Sentiment had no place there.

Sitting behind the broad desk, he reviewed footage of his patient from Friday, still twitching in the observation cell, when the knock came. It wasn't the usual rap of staff or interns. This knock was deliberate and controlled. He stood just as the door opened.

Henri Ducard stepped inside without waiting for an invitation, the way men who’d already been invited to darker things often did.

“Dr. Crane,” Ducard said, his voice as smooth as ever. “You’ve made yourself quite at home.”

Jonathan closed his laptop. “I like to know what I’m working with.”

Ducard’s gaze moved to the monitor, then back. "You’ll need that awareness soon enough. Carmine Falcone has agreed to help with the logistics and labor.”

That got Jonathan’s attention.

Falcone was a brute masquerading as a kingmaker. The man was short-sighted, volatile, and drunk on his own myth. The kind of man who mistook fear for respect because he’d never known the difference. Jonathan had no patience for ego that wasn’t earned, and Falcone reeked of old power. He would be a liability. But for now, a necessary one.

“Allow me to clarify," Ducard said. "Falcone is not a partner. But he is a necessary evil, an infrastructure. The League needs distribution and manpower. He has both. But make no mistake, if he overreaches, he is expendable.”

Jonathan’s brow twitched. “And if he jeopardizes the mission?”

“Then you’ll remind him of his place," Ducard explained. "Subtly, at first. If that fails, remove him. Quietly. The League will not mourn a man like him.”

Jonathan considered that. He didn’t like Falcone, hadn’t from the start. But his distribution web, the reach he had into Gotham’s ports, the chemical runners, the labs, yes, Jonathan needed it. “Does he know what we’re making?”

"Only what he needs to know," Ducard replied coolly. 

The man's tone held just a trace of disdain. Falcone wasn’t interested in ideology, transformation, or the philosophical power of fear. He didn’t want to break minds, only wills. Fear, when refined, wasn’t just a weapon. It was evolution. And no gangster had ever understood that.

Jonathan exhaled through his nose. “He thinks he’s building a drug empire.”

“And when the city begins to rot from the inside," Ducard said, "he’ll be among the first to choke on it.”

Jonathan folded his hands behind his back. “And if I choke on it?”

“You won’t, doctor. You understand what’s at stake. You’re not driven by money or ego like Falcone.” A beat of silence passed before Ducard added, “That’s why we chose you.”

Jonathan absorbed that carefully. Praise from the League was rare, and always strategic.

“Be patient with him. Use him. But if the time comes, cut out the infection.”

Jonathan nodded. He would indeed. 

Ducard’s gaze lingered on him a moment longer before he turned for the door. “One more thing,” he said, pausing in the doorway. “You’ll see Bruce Wayne at your dinner on Friday.”

Jonathan nodded. “I’m aware.”

Ducard gave a small, unreadable smile. “Don’t underestimate sentimentality. It’s the only thing that’s ever made that man dangerous.”

He didn’t elaborate. The door clicked shut behind him. And with that, he was gone.

Jonathan stayed where he was, weighing the man's words. Sentimentality. An odd word to hang a warning on. But nothing Ducard said was ever without weight. And Bruce Wayne, the prince of Gotham, heir to a dynasty rotting beneath its polish, wasn’t just some socialite. He was a variable. And Jonathan hated variables.

Bruce Wayne was charismatic in that effortless, entitled way that made people lean in closer, smiling before they even realized they were being manipulated. He didn’t have to work for it. And women were drawn to that kind of light. Even she might be.

Jonathan didn’t like the idea of them speaking. He didn't want to imagine Wayne’s eyes narrowing as he picked at the loose threads of her story. The uncertainty, her recent past. She was still fragile, still processing the trauma Jonathan himself had orchestrated.

It was all still running through his mind when he got home. Jonathan stepped through the front door, the scent of rain and earth trailing in with him. The house was too quiet. There were no sounds from the kitchen, no scent of dinner cooking, no sign of her.

What was this? She always greeted him now. Always had something warm to serve, or a soft smile and a kiss. The routine mattered. He had crafted it, carefully, like a cage lined with silk.

“Darling?” he called.

No answer.

Shedding his wet coat, he went looking for her. Jonathan found her upstairs, still in her studio. Light from the overcast sky pooled through the windows, casting the room in a washed-out glow. She was sitting on the floor, barefoot, surrounded by papers. Sketches.

She hadn’t heard him come in, so deeply lost in her work that she hadn’t even noticed the time. And when she looked up, startled, guilt flooded her face like a tide.

“Jonathan, I—I didn’t realize it was so late,” she stammered, rising quickly. “I didn’t start dinner. I’m so sorry...”

He held up a hand, eyes scanning the papers scattered across the floor. Not just sketches,variations, and repetitions. Like she intended to assemble an animation.

Of him. Of the Scarecrow.

She was now… obsessing. Fixating. There were dozens of renditions of the mask, the silhouette. The figure that had terrified her, but hadn’t broken her. He had planned on her recoiling from it, perhaps dreaming of it, but not this. Not analyzing it, trying to understand it. This wasn’t just catharsis, it was curiosity.

Jonathan stepped closer, studying the angles she’d drawn along with the way she’d captured the shape of the mask’s mouthpiece, the curvature of the eyes. So much detail, and she remembered everything.

His mind spun. This wasn’t part of the plan. He had expected quiet compliance, not artistic examination. 

Rising from the floor, she stood twisting her hands in front of her. “I didn’t mean to lose track of time. I just… I couldn’t stop drawing. I thought maybe if I got it out...”

“Of course,” he said smoothly, cutting in before her guilt could take root in a way he didn’t control. “You needed an outlet. That’s why I gave you this space.”

She dashed off to work on dinner then, leaving him in the studio, slowly collecting her sketches. He wanted to keep them, study them. He wanted to learn exactly what she saw when she looked into the eyes of the monster he'd created.

Jonathan crouched, gathering the pages slowly. His hands were steady, but something inside him was not. She hadn’t recoiled or hidden from the image. She’d drawn it, studied it, over and over again. She remembered.

In the quiet, Jonathan felt the weight of contradiction settle over him like a second skin. Power crackled at his fingertips, his title, his funding, his influence, even the League’s approval. He was becoming everything he’d once been denied.

But in this one room, in these sketches drawn by a woman who was supposed to be his, he felt… diminished. Because for all the control he had built, brick by brick, in Arkham, in Gotham, in her...

The Scarecrow had stolen her fascination. And Jonathan Crane hated sharing the spotlight.

Dinner, once you pulled it together, had been a quick, quiet affair, and Jonathan had been very different. You didn't know if he'd had a bad day or he was just that upset about the sketches you made. Instead of your normal routine of heading to the living room for a movie and time together, he'd pressed a kiss to your temple and quietly disappeared. It made you realize that since you'd moved into his home, everything had been about you and your latest crisis. The guilt that hit with that realization left you reeling. You had no idea what to do. With Ares, it had been simple. He would just avoid your calls for a couple of days and when he was ready, he'd be in touch. 

But this wasn't Ares and you hadn't lived with him. You had no idea of how to handle the situation with Jonathan. But you did want to at least to apologize for any part you'd played in whatever was weighing on him tonight. He'd retreated to his study. 

You padded softly down the hall, hesitating outside the closed door of his study. You could hear the faint scratch of a pen, the occasional turn of a page. No music. No radio murmuring from his desk. Just… silence.

You raised your hand to knock but hesitated. He’d always welcomed you before. Always. But tonight something was different. He’d vanished into himself, and now you were standing outside the wall he’d built, unsure if you were even allowed to knock.

But you made yourself do it. 

“Come in,” came his voice after a pause, measured, polite. Not cold, but not warm, either.

You opened the door slowly. The study was dimly lit, only his desk lamp casting a low golden glow over the papers and notebooks spread in front of him. He didn’t look up immediately. Just finished jotting something down with that elegant, precise hand before setting the pen aside. 

Then his attention was on you.

You managed a small smile. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just...”

“You’re not interrupting,” he said, but his voice lacked the usual softness it carried when he said those words. He was tired. You could see it now, under the careful composure. Tired and something else… something guarded.

You stepped inside, closing the door behind you. “I just wanted to check on you. And say I’m sorry for earlier.”

He arched an eyebrow. “What are you apologizing for?”

“For… I don’t know. Being thoughtless. Getting caught up in my own head and not asking about your day. I didn’t even think...”

“You’ve had a lot on your plate,” he said simply. “It’s understandable.”

“But that doesn’t mean I should ignore everything else,” you said quietly. “Especially you.”

That made him pause. You saw it his eyes, the subtle shift in his posture. He leaned back slightly in his chair, watching you. 

“I didn’t mean to disappoint you, Jonathan,” you added, your voice even smaller now. “With the drawings. With… everything.”

At last, he stood, slowly, like the weight of the day was heavier than he wanted you to know. He crossed to you, stopped just close enough that you had to look up at him.

“You didn’t disappoint me,” he said, low. “You surprised me.”

How had you surpised him? “Is that worse?”

“No,” he said, and this time, there was more warmth. A ghost of the man who had pressed a kiss to your temple not an hour ago. “But it means I’m adjusting my expectations.”

You weren’t sure what that meant, or if it was meant to soothe you. But before you could ask, he gently reached out and traced his fingers down the side of your face, then let his fingers linger at your jaw.

“You don’t have to apologize,” he said again, softer now. “But I appreciate that you did.”

You nodded slowly, eyes searching his. “Are you… okay?”

His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m managing.”

And you knew, without him saying it, that there was more he wasn’t telling you. Still, you stepped forward, looping your arms carefully around his waist, pressing your cheek against his chest. His hands came up around you after a beat, holding you there.

“I don’t want to be a burden to you,” you whispered.

“You’re not,” he said against your hair. “You’re just still finding your balance. We both are.”

But you couldn’t help the sinking feeling in your chest, the same one that had followed you all evening: that something had shifted. You just didn’t know what.

Jonathan pulled back slightly, brushing his thumb along your cheek in a gesture that might have comforted you if not for how absent his eyes felt. He wasn’t with you, not really. He was already somewhere else.

“I have a few things to finish up before bed,” he said quietly. “You should get some rest.”

It wasn’t a request.

You nodded, the guilt blooming hot behind your ribs. “Right… of course.”

He kissed your forehead, soft, clinical... and turned back toward his desk before you’d even reached the door.

You paused, just for a second, hand on the frame.

“I didn’t mean to make you feel—”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, not looking up from the papers he’d already begun sorting. “It’s forgotten.”

But it wasn’t. You felt the chill of that in your bones. 

Jonathan didn’t realize how late it had gotten until his phone chimed.

His head lifted, disoriented by the silence that had settled so thoroughly in his study, interrupted only by the low hum of the monitor and the rush of wind outside. He blinked, the hour registering only when he saw the screen. It was 12:08 a.m.

The alert had come from the mirrored feed on his phone. Her phone. 

Earlier in the evening, around 7:15 p.m., she'd sent a message to Lexi. It sounded like her. 

I just wanted to check in and make sure you're okay, Lexi. Talk to you soon.

The reply was just delivered a minute ago from Lexi's number. But it wasn't from Lexi herself. 

Lexi is fine. She needs space. Please don’t reach out again right now. - Dan

The reply from Lexi's husband. Cold and final.

Jonathan stared at it, unmoving. He'd expected this eventual fracture. But he knew that the text from Lexi's husband would upset her, deepen her guilt. The soft tether still clinging to Lexi was frayed now, cut by someone who’d barely tolerated her existence in the first place.

And she hadn’t replied. Not yet. 

Jonathan waited. Another minute. Another two. Nothing.

Finally, he shut down his laptop, carefully stacking her sketches and slipping the one that haunted him most, the one she’d sketched from memory, the one with the eyes, into a folder he’d label later. He secured it in the lower drawer and locked it, sliding the key back into his pocket.

She hadn’t read the message. Was she asleep?

Crossing the hall, he expected to find her curled beneath the covers of his bed where she belonged. But the room was empty. A cold, familiar knot formed in his stomach. 

He found her in the guest room. The door wasn’t fully closed, and he pushed it gently with his fingers. Moonlight traced a dull stripe across the floorboards, catching the shape of her body curled tightly beneath the blanket in a fetal position. It was the same way she slept in her apartment. She was still in her clothes from earlier, makeup faintly smudged at the corners of her eyes. She’d folded herself toward the door, as if awaiting danger. Or penance.

And worst of all, she wasn't in his bed.

Jonathan stood there a long moment, the silence stretching. The illusion he’d built, her comfort, her dependence, had fractured just  enough. She wasn’t pulling away from him yet, but something in her had shifted. And that would need to be corrected.

He watched the quiet rise and fall of her breathing. She looked smaller again, fragile. Not like she had last night or this morning, flushed with warmth and sprawled across his bed next to him.

He should have told her about the dinner Friday, drawn her in rather than let the weight of the day bury them both. But tonight had slipped through his fingers. Between Ducard’s appearance, Falcone’s involvement, and the sketches, he’d spent too much time today as the Scarecrow and not nearly enough as the man she thought she could trust.

It was a moment, not an emerging pattern. He told himself that, but the fact that she had chosen distance didn’t sit well. His hand rested on the doorframe as he studied the line of her spine, the way she curled toward the door. It was familiar to her, that’s what unsettled him. What had Ares done to make her default to this kind of penance? They'd never lived together. Distance used as discipline?

Had she made herself smaller back then, too, trying to hold a crumbling peace with a man too obsessed with his own career to notice she was drowning beside him?

What Jonathan felt in that moment wasn't jealousy, but resentment. For all Ares had ignored her… she still bore the imprint of his neglect. And now it was Jonathan paying for the ghosts the man left behind. He stepped back from the door, careful not to make a sound.

Tomorrow, he would course correct.

But tonight, he left her in the dark.

[11queensupreme11]

I feel so bad for Percy’s daughters…..

Not just the ones with Cu chulainn, but I mean in general

Cuz like you said, their only options in life is rto be eternal virgins or be married off and that just seems so depressing 🙃

IKR??????? 😭😭😭😭 this isn't even just a god thing, i feel like even pjo goddesses got it better (cuz rick made the books more child friendly and NOT so much like the myths so we can expect the goddesses there to have more freedom) 😭💔💔💔

even we humans got it better to be honest (most, at least). like, we can go to school, get an education, go to work, be independent, we aren't required to get married cuz we now have social security and can live without needing a man. our societies (some at least) are more liberal and no longer as outdated as before!

but the goddesses in my fic???? LMAO 💀👎

their only options in life are:

-- become an eternal maiden goddess and take a vow of eternal virginity; never to get married or have sex and have children

-- remain a virgin until you're married off, which can happen VERY quickly cuz as i mentioned before, gods grow up FAST, some are even born fully grown 💀 live ur entire eternity serving your husband and popping babies for him. be loyal forever, oh but ur husband might not 💀

-- don't do either and be labeled a whore and a disgrace

-- if you're lucky, you could be born as a war goddess and be strong enough to fend off men but you'd also need thick skin to ignore/fight back against any vitriol thrown at you

(do note that all of this strongly depends on the strictness of the pantheon ur from)

percy's poor daughters can't even afford to have crushes or dates like normal girls can. can't experiment. it's literally nothing or marriage 😭😭 NOT EVEN MALE FRIENDSHIPS 😭💔 their dad's would get a heart attack LMAO 😂😂😂

they think this is perfectly normal though cuz this is how they've been raised and how everything else works around them. hopefully they never find out how bad they actually have it, though some might still not even get it 😭💔 poor girlies would get be shocked if they found out their dearest mother had tons of guy friends back in the pjo verse LMAO 😭😭😭

percy would try her best to give her daughters a better life, but they're never gonna get the amount of freedom she once had back in the pjo verse where everything was less conservative, even the gods were chiller back there 💀 it's so hard for her though.

simple things like a crush would be fine back in pjo verse, but in here she'd have to be careful. back home, if you have a crush, it could blossom to a simple date, and then more, and maybe some sex later on and that's FINE, but in ror verse???? helll fucking no. she'd have warn her daughter to be careful. if she gets "sullied" (has sex before marriage), people might turn against her, and her father would either kill the guy or force a marriage, OR punish the daughter. percy HATES the fact that she has to treat something as innocent as a crush as something disastrous, but she's stuck in the ror verse now and things aren't the same as before

befriending a guy? percy would have to plead with her husband to let this happen. it's just a friendship, nothing more! let it happen! but the yan would argue that the male/female friendships aren't normal and that guy might not have friendship in mind, and percy would actually have to pause and think about that because she's not back home anymore, and things here don't work the same way. her husband has a point. male/female friendships ARE considered uncommon here; could this guy really want to simply be friends with her daughter? could he have another motive?

she hates that the most simplest and innocent things aren't so simple and innocent here, that she has to tread carefully on things that were perfectly fine back home.

crushes are supposed to be normal. dating cute guys is supposed to be normal. sex before marriage is okay. not being ready for marriage is okay. wanting time to figure yourself out is OKAY. but in here it's not.

a girl being friends with a guy is normal. she had tons of male friends back home. attended parties with them. went over to their houses. had sleepovers. went on life-altering quests with them. ate with them. etc etc. it's normal and fine. but not here.

she wants to give her daughters freedom, but she's terrified of the thought that this could backfire and do more damage for her daughters.

[icehearts]

FEBHYURARY 2025. III. (A REALM) REBORN.

Field work is often the domain of the tenured and experienced Scions — those better versed in combat or stealth. That suits Esca just fine. Truthfully, she's more at home in the Waking Sands, poring over histories and myths, finding patterns in omissions, securing supplies to give an edge to those Scions in the field. She dedicates herself to finding and creating advantages that can be pressed like a bruise — anything to be useful, but there's a perverse pleasure in finding potential weak spots. (She keeps those thoughts to herself.)

[nardialrose]

Reading this about the variants of Medusa and Perseus traditions in different Ancient Greece regions, and cross-examination of literary and art accounts.

From Medusa as a fearsome Gorgon, with snake hair, with an ugly face, a pretty woman, chthonic being, queen of Libya, to... a horsegirl?

The double name “Gorgon / Medusa” indicates the merging of the myth of Gorgo with the local myth of Boeotia about Medusa. Poseidon, who was worshiped as a horse in Boeotia, slept with a female centaur, Medusa. The scene of Poseidon’s love mentioned by Hesiod is indeed reminiscent of the mating of wild horses in a flowered meadow. Perhaps this match explains the genesis of Pegasus: the horse Poseidon and the hippopotamus Medusa gave birth to Pegasus, the winged horse. In the same verse of Theogony, the demon Gorgo and the religious-worshiping reality associated with him are interpreted with mythical images. Due to her kinship with the chthonic powers, Gorgo belongs to the order of the Pelora (enormous monsters), and specifically to the genus of Cetus and Phorcys. Because this genus had to submit to the representatives of the state of Zeus -as required by the spirit of the 8th century BC-, the chthonic Gorgo is definitely exterminated, either by Perseus as the descendant of Cetus according to Theogony, or by Athena as the descendant of Earth, according to the tradition that has survived until Euripides. However, as far as the attribution of the myth to real events in the distant past is concerned, not every hypothesis that can be based on some sources and archaeological evidence is categorically rejected... (Lesky, 1981).

One of the oldest and most complete known sources around the myth of Perseus is the Greek poet Pherecydes, who probably lived in the first half of the 5th c. B.C. and wrote an epic in the Ionian dialect, before the Peloponnesian War. Morphologically it is definitely before the classical era. He ignored cosmogony but dealt with various genealogical myths. For Pherecydes, the ge- nealogical trees of the heroes are the guiding lines and open the way that ends later in the mythological textbook of the type of Pseudo-Apollodorus, making his work a basic source for those who dealt with the ancient myth (Lesky, 2003). According to tradition, his work was divided into ten books. In the second book of the Genealogy, from which only excerpts from Apollonius the Rhodian are preserved, he narrates the myth in detail, starting with Danae, who was the only child of Akrisius, king of Argos and Eurydice, daughter of Lacedaemon, and mother of a demigod hero Perseus (the passages are quoted by Apollonius of Rhodius and preserved in two notes: schol. Apoll. Rhod. IV. 1091, 1515; Pherecydes: FGrHist 1, 61 f., fragments 10-11) The new elements that enrich the myth are the assignment of the task of killing the Gorgon, the fossilization of Polydectes, the verification of the prophecy, and the end of Perseus after the death of his grandfather, as well as his association with the Persians. In the beheading operation he receives help from Athena and Hermes. The two gods secured the helmet of Hades for him to be invisible, winged sandals that would make him as fast as the wind and a sack (kivisis) to place the monster’s head. Medusa’s two sisters, seeking revenge for her death, persecuted Perseus, but he deceived them by wearing the helmet of Hades that made him invisible (Pherecydes, 5th c BC Genealogy, Book 2 (Pherecydes, Fragmenta), scol. Apoll. Rhod. IV.1091,1515 (Pherecydes: GGrHist1,61 f., fragments 10-11), 26.2-15 and 26.90-95). I notice that from Pherecydes the whole story of Perseus and Medusa is delivered in every detail, as it is later mentioned by Apollonius the Rhodian. The end of Perseus in Asia, where he becomes the ancestor of the Persians, I guess is related to the victories of the Greeks in the Persian wars.

Aeschylus makes two references to the Gorgons: in the Eu- menides Orestes initially thinks that the Erinyes he first sees from afar are Gorgons, without mentioning the number of fe- male figures and without any other description (Aeschylus, Eu- menides, line 48). In Libation Bearers (Χοηφόροι) again, Orestes describes the Erinyes likening them to Gorgons, as they are dressed in ash-black clothes and girded with serpentine strings (Aeschylus, Libation Bearers (Χοηφόροι), 1048). Referring to Pentheus, Euripides informs us that he was not born of a woman, but of a lioness or of the Libyan genus Gorgon. It is the first reference we find to the Libyan Gorgons (Εuripides, Bacchae, 990).

Another tradition says that Gorgon was born to Earth and was killed by Athena in the Battle of the Giants. As booty, he took the Gorgon’s head, the gorgoneion, and placed it under her auspices to neutralize her opponents (Euripides, Ion, lines 987-997). It seems that the recitations of the Homeric epics in Athens and the projection of the properties of the gorgoneion and the auspicious favored the combination of those elements, which formed the special mythological tradition that glorified the patron goddess. This Athenian myth gives a localistic explanation for the origin of the gorgoneion of the auspices of Athena, quite different from the myth widely known in various parts of Greece of the beheading of Medusa Perseus.

As the story unfolds in Ion, we receive a lot of information about the Gorgon, her nature and her qualities. A first piece of information about the rare myth of the birth of a different Gorgon comes from a verse tale between Creusa and her elder servant: Earth gave birth to Gorgon in Phlegra (Euripides, Ion, lines 987-997) 20 to help her other brothers in the battle against to the Olympian gods (Euripides, Ion, lines 987-994). According to this Athenian tradition, Gorgon who is born on the battlefield of the Giants with the Gods is the Chthonic Gorgon who gives birth to the Earth and has nothing to do with the Medusa that Perseus beheads. Athena can only fight the Gorgon with the heads of the snakes on her chest. Snakes were more suitable to deal with it, since their chthonic nature was related to an offspring of the Earth, the Chthonic Gorgon (Euripides, Ion, 1053).

In the 4th B.C. century lived Palaephatos, for whom there are few reports (Palaephatus, De incredibilibus, Festa, 1902). He was a friend of Aristotle. In his most famous work, On the Un- believers (Incredible Stories) he mentions that Gorgon was a golden statue of Athena, while Medusa was a powerful queen. According to the version of Palaephatus, Medusa is not and does not become a disgusting monster. However, she is presented as a dynamic female being (Palaephatus, De incredibilibus, 3122 ) (Garber and Vickers, 2003).

I notice that Apollodorus, in Book B of the Library, gives two very contradictory descriptions of Gorgon: in the first he presents her as a fearsome monster, with a huge head, bronze hands, golden wings, a head with serpents, wild facial features, such as boar’s teeth and eyes which petrified. The other version wants Gorgon to be so beautiful that Athena kills her because she had the arrogance to compare herself to her beauty. This contradiction gives an interpretation to the contradictory iconography, which from the 5th c. B.C. delivers both cases. The scene with Gorgo that Heracles meets in Hades is reminiscent of the corresponding scene in the Odyssey.

...A century later Pausanias, in Corinth, mentions that Medusa was a warlike queen of Libya. This myth, as well as the myths that precede Pausanias, such as those of Apollonius of Rhodes, Lucanus, Diodorus Siculus, and Ovid, I believe allude to the relations or even the wars of the Greeks with peoples of Africa.

[ceekbee]

It was supposed to be a good life. Kate Bowler had followed the rules; earned the PhD, secured the tenure-track job, married a nice guy, had the baby, and wrote the book that decoded the American fairy tale: work hard, believe harder, and God will give you all the things. The algorithm of blessing, perfectly solved.

Then the call came. Stage IV colon cancer. Thirty-five years old. The theology professor who wrote the book on why good things happen to good people suddenly had to face the fact that sometimes they don’t. No matter how many kale smoothies you’ve consumed. No matter how many Bible verses you’ve memorized.

What followed was something messy, funny, and "holy": a reckoning. A raw, defiant, belly-laugh-through-the-tears kind of reckoning. Kate Bowler didn’t set out to write a memoir for the ages. But she did. And in the process, she handed us a miracle of a book. Not the kind with healing and hallelujahs. The kind that reminds us we’re still breathing, even when we wish we weren’t.

Here are five piercing truths she learns and gifts to us in return:

1. Certainty Is a Lie We Tell Ourselves to Feel Safe

She spent her life studying people who believed that suffering could be avoided with the right mix of faith, effort, and positive thinking. But cancer has no use for good intentions. The most painful irony? The very system she’d studied and understood so intimately—the one she’d respectfully critiqued—was now crumbling beneath her own life. She doesn’t just pull apart the prosperity gospel with academic precision; she burns it to the ground with heartbreaking clarity.

2. Rejecting the Prosperity Gospel:

Bowler directly refutes the idea pushed by some Christian teachings that faith and good behavior will lead to material prosperity and good health. Bowler's memoir that recounts her stage IV cancer diagnosis at the young age of 35 is an urgent call to abandon such an oversimplified, transactional view of the divine which fails to account for the randomness and unpredictability of human suffering. Bowler recognizes that adhering to such judgmental frameworks only compounds the trauma experienced by those enduring hardship.

3. Authenticity Is Ugly, Hilarious, and Holy

One minute she’s changing diapers. The next, she’s Googling survival statistics. Her days become a split-screen—motherhood on one side, medical charts on the other. But she doesn’t look away. And neither can we. She writes of port flushes and preschool pickup lines with the same reverence, because this is what it means to live honestly: fully aware that every moment might be the last, and still making jokes about Spanx.

4. Control Is a Dangerous Illusion

We cling to our calendars, our vitamins, our ten-step plans. But Bowler’s experience tears down the myth that we can prevent tragedy with perfection. She reveals how the idea that life is "earnable" leaves us stranded when the diagnosis comes, when the dream dies, when the call doesn’t come back. If we believe we deserve our blessings, what do we think we did to deserve our pain?

5. Community Doesn’t Always Get It Right, But It Shows Up Anyway

She writes with brutal honesty about the awkward casseroles, the drive-by theology, the unsolicited advice. But she also writes with immense grace for the imperfect love people offer in crisis. She doesn’t shy away from naming the harm done by empty platitudes—but she also doesn’t turn away from the beauty of people showing up anyway. Sometimes all you can say is “I’m here.” And sometimes, that’s everything.

6. Faith Isn't a Formula—It's a Flickering Light in the Dark

As a theologian, she could’ve constructed a sturdy scaffold of doctrine to climb out of the pit. But she doesn't. Instead, she sits in the pit, open-palmed and soft-eyed, and talks to God anyway. Not in search of answers—but in search of presence. Her faith becomes something wilder, more tender, and infinitely more real. It doesn’t demand sense-making. It makes room for mystery.

7. True Compassion for Others:

Despite our good intentions, we often say or do things to people that leave them feeling more hurt. Kate, in this book, made a list of things not to say to people who are going through a rough time. They include: 1. “Well, at least…” 2. “In my long life, I’ve learned that…” 3. “It’s going to get better. I promise.” 4. “God needed an angel.” 5. “Everything happens for a reason.” 6. “I’ve done some research and…” 7. “When my aunt had cancer…” Even more, Bowler gave us jaw-dropping reasons why we must not say these things.

In the end, Kate didn't stitch up suffering with scripture or philosophy. She’s done something braver. She’s looked directly into the abyss and chosen to love, to laugh, to live in spite of it.

Everything Happens for a Reason becomes a book about how to be human when life falls apart. If you’re standing at the edge of something unbearable, grief, diagnosis, disappointment, or if you’ve ever been there and felt abandoned by the easy answers, you will find this to be a helpful read.

[lachrymosen]

new muses coming here ...

mythos monsters:

( rob raco fc ) arion / erasmus conley. the immortal horse known for his supernatural speed and agility. according to myth, only men of great valor and power can mount him. and in the history of its immortal life, there were only three of them. hard to get, hard to woo. and if you manage to get him, you better ride well and good because this will probably the first and last you will see him, because he will leave you in the dust.

( josh heuston fc ) the ceryneian hind / dilshan corea. the golden hind of ceryneia. known for its quick feet and elusive nature. an animal sacred to the goddess artemis, and once hunted by the demigod heracles. in human form, he is still just as swift and beautiful as before as a renowned dancer. but he is just as elusive and hard to catch, giving himself up only to men who he finds worthy.

prometheus labs android:

prometheus labs is the world's leading manufacturer of home and private security technology, and first to launch their line of life like androids. their mission and vision is to provide a multitude of services in the form of androids that are nearly indistinguishable from humans, delivering not only amazing topnotch services, but also a companion for their client base.

( andre lamoglia fc ) ganymede mode / service android. our latest mode for our multipurpose android, made to be the perfect service provider. with his state of the art artificial intelligence, you can assign this model as a housekeeper, a nanny, a chef, or a private tutor. and to ensure that they don't steer away from their duties, their operating system is only made to serve, full obedience and loyalty to their owners. reacts greatly to rewards.

( charles melton fc ) galetheia mode / companion android. the latest mode for our android where they can be fitted with high end artificial intelligence that makes them the "perfect boyfriend". using the data that you will be providing to our system, and any other information that he will learn from the moment they are activated, our galetheia models will constantly reconstruct itself: it's body, it's face, it's preferences, and it's personality to fit the perfect partner that you desire. reacts greatly to physical touch and affection.

( steven strait fc ) adonis mode / intimacy android. a variant of the galetheia mode, which pushes the boundaries of the android's body and makes them the perfect sexual partner. their improved body is made to withstand significant impact to make them more durable, and their skin is fitted with additional sensory receptors to perfectly mimic a human partner. their preference, pleasure level, pain level, personality type, and sexual experience levels can be customized to your needs. reacts greatly to sexual pleasure.

( rafael silva fc ) achilles model / security android. an updated version of our original android mode, which is made to serve and protect the user from any harm or danger. this mode is perfectly remade to respond to any and all threats, as well as fitted with a robust psychiatric program that is well versed in after care and counseling after any form of danger. reacts greatly to being appreciated for their service, and the safety of their client.

[kinetic-elaboration]

January 24: Octavia, Bravery/Fear

Octavia-centric, ~830 words, written in about 30 minutes; cw for references to drug use

For the prompt "bravery and its antonyms (cowardice, timidity, fear, hesitation)" from my July Break Bingo 2023 card (though I sort of forgot about the prompt pretty fast lol)

In the same 'verse as Make a lot of Money and Feel Dead Inside, my Time Loop fic. It's not.. spoiler-y per se, but it might make more sense later.

*

It is not true that Octavia Blake ceased to feel fear at the age of fifteen.

She wanted that story in the last book. The woman, the myth, the legend. Bellamy told her that superheroes weren't relatable, and that all of her adventures would read as boring and slight, if she turned herself into some sort of perfect, fearless goddess. Oh, it would all be too easy then. No stakes, no drama, no reason to care. No one wants to read a book like that, he said.

And even then, maybe that phrasing was just to be polite. Maybe he didn't mean you can't look superhuman but more like you can't look inhuman. And it burned her up that he wasn't wrong. That image they want for the TV screen, girl next door but she climbs mountains for a living, that's not her and never has been. But it's the sort of thing that sells. The relatable thing.

How she'd like to be perceived is like something out of a tall tale, or the over-the-top adventures Bellamy used to tell her as bedtime stories. The characters weren't anything in those; the story was their accomplishments, stacked up against all the dangers they faced.

She can't be a superhero and she can't be too cocky and she can't lie about conquering the very concept of fright when she was just a kid because that self-myth, it sounds so good in her head, but if she spoke it out loud it would prove all too much. She should have been able to vanquish it then: the feeling of her heart pounding in her throat, the nauseous tightening in her stomach, the tickling unease. The dread. Because she'd felt it at its worst and then she'd crushed it in her hands. She'd—

She'd seen everything that she needed to see.

But instead she found the nightmares followed her for years. Maybe she'd come up too close to the monster's face and it had changed her, or maybe she was waiting for the aftermath, the vengeance. Maybe she was taking her cues from her big brother, who sulked around the house all quiet for a while and said that it was mourning. She'd watch his eyes twitch and that tic in his jaw that was always his tell. And it made something sick start to vibrate along her skin. Maybe, like Clarke said, it just takes a while for that stuff to wash over you, her way of saying, there's trauma, and you have to learn the patience to feel it out and through.

What did make it to the book is that she has no patience and never did. To overcome the fear she had to kill it herself. She pushed right up against everything that had ever scared her; she dared, not herself to endure, but the terrifying things to find her, to get her. Horror movie marathons on Friday nights. Sleepovers with Clarke when they took the old Ouija board out and called for spirits. All that other side of the veil shit, she'd always hated it, because it seemed like if it was true, it would be the worst fate of all. She practiced sneaking out of the house even with nowhere to go. She explored the edges of the swamp.

In college, she started hanging out with the two guys down the hall, and on the weekends, after dark, they'd leave campus and go exploring. They tore apart their mid-size university town as if the only things they really had to learn were all its secrets. Jasper was excellent at picking locks. When the security systems were electronic, Monty would fix them. For a while, her favorite sensations were rusting metal fencing cutting into her skin, and the satisfaction of finding purchase in the diamond cutouts with her feet. Sometimes they just sat outside in parking lots they shouldn't be in and smoked Monty's weed. Bellamy would have killed her if she'd gotten high in high school, which is sort of ironic when you really think about it, and at first it scared her, too. She wondered what it would be like, to be not quite herself.

"You'll feel great," Jasper told her, soft and warm, his breath an outtake of cold, misting air and smoke. When he handed her the joint and their fingers touched, it seemed more intimate than the time she'd gotten caught trying to climb one of the fences, and he’d had to shove her upwards with his hands on her ass.

She wanted to cut open her palm, let it bleed like an oath. She wanted to steal just to prove she could. She wanted to jump off a building just to show them all she'd land on her feet.

How had she defeated the worst monster there was, and fear still lingered, tightening up in her throat?

"You okay?" Monty asked her, then, and she swallowed down everything she still didn't know and said yes.

[chunibyo-x-sorcerer]

----- Exorcists -----

"Ichiji is correct." Nanami said. "He specialized in barrier techniques and you will learn from him since barrier techniques are non-innate techniques. Any sorcerer can cast it."

"So is it similar to a magic circle?" Sheimi asked.

"Almost, you need to summon with your cursed energy." Ichiji smiles at the exorcists. "I'm not a good teacher but Nanami or Gojo can help break it down for you. There are ways to use barriers. I cast barriers to secure perimeters whenever there's a dangerous curse in a way to protect the populace and not to cause panic so civilians won't see jujutsu activity."

"So in order nobody knows that a barrier is cast as it keeps something in and keeps something out," Ryuji stated.

"Yes correct!"

------ Sorcerers ------

"Verses?" Hana repeated.

"Yes. You must of heard Konkeomura and Ryuji reciting verses. It's a way to protect exorcists from demons. Ever seen the exorcists? it can be used to cast summoning demons and barriers. Not to mention, it can exorcise demons. Which are Fatal Verses."

"What's a Fatal Verse?" Rioto said.

"Exactly how it sounds. It can exorcise demons quick. It can harm and kill demons quick with religious text. Not to mention, if you find out about the demon's origin, such as its myth. For example! Have you ever seen The Conjuring?" "I did!" Daichi raised his hand.

"Good. If you say a demon with Christian text, it will work effectively. If you use a fatal verse against a demon from Japan with either Buddhist or Shinto scripture. It works the same!"

"That makes a lot of sense," Kamo stated. "But the problem is finding out if the demon belongs to which religion system."

"Great! Now you kids are getting it!"

"Okay, that also makes some sense too. But even with all that, it says something. "Rin didn't know this but maybe he might end up asking Ink later on about this. Didn't she said something of her father being royalty?

Now the others were hearing something else.

"Demons feed on fear, similar to curses. Heck, demons may feed on curses. But what do I know?" Lighting shrugs. "Moving on…what do you know about verses?"

"Verses?" Shimei asked.

----- Sorcerers' Class ----

"Hmm? M..Me? Ahem, well I don't have a technique but I can summoning shinigami and do simple barriers called curtain." he explains. "it allows me to create one that surrounds a certain area to protect civilians from battlefield." he said.

"So something like a shield but bigger?" Izumo asked.

"Yes right. I don't have the type of techniques for fighting but I'm able to still do that to keep others and the students safe."

[sameeranawaz]

Common Myths About Legal Process Outsourcing (LPO)

Legal Process Outsourcing (LPO) has rapidly become a cornerstone of efficiency in the global legal industry. From cost savings to time zone advantages, law firms and corporate legal departments are increasingly leveraging LPO to streamline operations and reduce overheads. Despite its widespread adoption, LPO is still clouded by a host of myths and misconceptions. These myths often stem from outdated assumptions or a lack of understanding of how the LPO industry truly works.

In this article, we debunk the most common myths about Legal Process Outsourcing, separating fact from fiction to help you make informed decisions about incorporating LPO into your legal strategy.

Myth 1: LPO Is Only About Cost Cutting

Reality: While reducing legal costs is a significant advantage of LPO, it’s far from the only benefit. LPO providers offer access to specialized legal expertise, process improvements, quicker turnaround times, scalability, and the ability to focus in-house resources on higher-value tasks. Many law firms and corporations now view LPO as a strategic partner that enhances quality and innovation, not just a way to cut corners.

Myth 2: LPO Services Are Inferior in Quality

Reality: This is one of the most persistent myths—and it’s also one of the most inaccurate. Reputable LPO providers employ highly qualified attorneys, many with international legal training, who adhere to strict quality standards. These professionals are well-versed in U.S., U.K., and other international laws, depending on their area of focus. Furthermore, robust quality control mechanisms, including multiple review layers, ensure the final output meets or exceeds client expectations.

Myth 3: Outsourcing Legal Work Jeopardizes Confidentiality

Reality: Confidentiality is critical in legal work, and reputable LPO providers recognize this. These firms follow rigorous data protection protocols and comply with international standards such as ISO 27001 and GDPR. Many also sign Non-Disclosure Agreements (NDAs) and use secure servers and encrypted communication to protect client data. In most cases, LPO vendors are as secure—if not more secure—than many internal law firm systems.

Myth 4: LPO Is Only Suitable for Large Law Firms

Reality: LPO services are scalable and flexible, making them accessible to firms of all sizes, including solo practitioners and mid-sized firms. Small and medium-sized legal operations often benefit the most from outsourcing, as it allows them to access global talent and advanced technology that would otherwise be cost-prohibitive. Many LPO providers offer customized packages tailored to the specific needs and budgets of smaller firms.

Myth 5: LPO Leads to Job Losses for In-House Teams

Reality: Rather than eliminating jobs, LPO often enables in-house teams to focus on strategic and client-facing activities. Routine or time-consuming tasks such as document review, legal research, and contract management are offloaded to external experts, allowing internal teams to concentrate on complex legal analysis and advisory roles. The result is a more productive and efficient workforce, not a diminished one.

Myth 6: Communication Is a Barrier in LPO Arrangements

Reality: Modern communication technologies have bridged the gap between onshore clients and offshore teams. Tools like Zoom, Slack, Microsoft Teams, and project management platforms ensure seamless collaboration across time zones. In fact, the time zone difference can be an advantage, enabling round-the-clock productivity. Many LPO providers also assign dedicated project managers to facilitate real-time updates and coordination.

Myth 7: Only Low-End Tasks Can Be Outsourced

Reality: While LPO began with low-complexity tasks such as document coding and transcription, the industry has evolved significantly. Today, LPO providers offer high-end services including patent drafting, legal analytics, compliance support, litigation strategy, due diligence, and even AI-assisted contract analysis. Many Fortune 500 companies now outsource sophisticated legal functions to LPO providers as part of their legal operations strategy.

Myth 8: Outsourcing Compromises Legal Ethics and Control

Reality: Legal ethics remain paramount in outsourcing arrangements. Leading LPO firms are acutely aware of the professional obligations lawyers have toward their clients and structure their services accordingly. Additionally, clients retain control over the process, from selecting which tasks to outsource to overseeing final deliverables. Ethical guidelines issued by bar associations in various countries now recognize and support responsible outsourcing practices.

Myth 9: LPO Is Just a Temporary Trend

Reality: Far from being a passing fad, LPO has become an integral part of the legal ecosystem. The global LPO market is growing steadily, with law firms and corporations increasingly integrating outsourced legal solutions into their long-term strategy. With ongoing advancements in legal tech and AI, LPO is poised to expand its footprint and deliver even more sophisticated services in the future.

Myth 10: All LPO Providers Are the Same

Reality: Like any service industry, the quality of LPO providers varies. While there are many reliable and experienced providers, others may lack the infrastructure, training, or specialization required for complex legal work. It’s essential to perform due diligence—checking credentials, client testimonials, service portfolios, and compliance certifications—before selecting a vendor.

Conclusion

Legal Process Outsourcing is no longer just an option—it’s a powerful strategic tool for modern legal departments and law firms. However, persistent myths can create hesitations that prevent organizations from unlocking the full benefits of LPO. By understanding the reality behind these myths, legal professionals can make more informed, confident decisions about outsourcing.

Choosing the right LPO partner involves more than seeking the lowest price. It means aligning with a provider that values quality, security, ethics, and partnership. When done right, LPO doesn’t just support your legal function—it transforms it.

Read more. https://menteso.com/

[archupnet]

Architecture and the Throne of Bilqis Dive into the enigmatic world of the Throne of Sheba, where ancient architecture meets myth. This article offers an in-depth exploration of the architectural splendor and historical mysteries surrounding one of the most intriguing artifacts of the ancient world. Join us in uncovering the secrets behind the throne that has captivated historians and architects alike Origins of Balqis Bilqis, known in Jewish and Islamic traditions, was the queen of the Kingdom of Sheba in southwestern Arabia, and a popular character in numerous tales and legends. In the biblical accounts of King Solomon's reign, Bilqis visited his court and attested to the existence of important trade relations between ancient Israel and southern Arabia. Description of Bilqis' throne What is today called the Throne of Bilqis is known from ancient Sabaean inscriptions in the Temple of Bran, which is believed to have been the main location of Queen Bilqis' throne. This temple displays a unique architectural harmony, as the majestic main entrance and the courtyard meet to face a steep staircase with a wonderful architectural display that indicates the grandeur of its construction. The legendary stories surrounding Bilqis In Islamic tradition, the story of Bilqis appears in the Holy Quran, where she is known as Bilqis. According to one account, Suleiman sent a message to Bilqis urging her to worship God after the hoopoe told him that she and her kingdom worshiped the sun. After exchanging letters and gifts, Bilqis personally visited Suleiman's court. Surat An-Naml in the Qur’an In the Holy Qur’an, the story of ants appears in Surah An-Naml, which is the twenty-seventh surah and contains 93 verses. This surah shows precise details about the story of Solomon, who was said to have converted Queen Bilqis to Islam after the hoopoe informed him that she was a queen who worshiped the sun. It is also mentioned in this Surah how Solomon was able to understand the speech of ants. Based on the Holy Quran, Bilqis's visit to Solomon's Palace is described in a way that reflects the grandeur of the architecture and architectural design that brilliantly uses optical illusions. When Bilqis entered the magnificent palace of Suleiman, she encountered a floor made of shining glass that looked like water. This description highlights how Belqis, believing that she was in front of a real body of water, raised the edges of her dress to avoid getting wet. This is an example of the precision and innovation in the palace's architecture, as Suleiman used glass to create a stunning optical illusion. In this incident, architecture emerges as an essential element in the story, emphasizing the wisdom and skill that King Solomon enjoyed in designing his palace. The Qur’anic description of Bilqis’s reaction shows not only the depth and importance of the story in the religious text, but also highlights the great importance of architecture and design in that historical era. This type of detail shows the high professionalism and creativity of ancient architecture, underscoring its status as an integral part of human history and heritage. Belqis: an architectural miracle The throne of Bilqis was known for its splendor and distinction, and stories tell of one of the jinn offering the Prophet Solomon to bring this throne before the Prophet could get up from its place. However, another wise man in the court made an even more surprising offer, promising to bring him the throne in the blink of an eye. Indeed, the throne of Sheba was transferred to Solomon in a supernatural way, such that it was waiting for Bilqis upon her arrival, which proved to her the superior ability and wisdom of Solomon. This event is not only a miracle in its religious context, but also an expression of the great architectural prowess and technical ability that was envisioned in this story. Security protection for the throne: Before Bilqis left to visit Suleiman, she ordered that her throne be placed in the innermost room of the seven interconnected rooms inside her castle. She closed the doors behind her and placed guards to protect it, stressing the need to keep the throne safe until she returned. Solomon and his wonderful throne: It is reported that Solomon bin Daoud had six hundred thrones prepared, where noble humans would sit near him, and then noble jinn would come to sit near the humans. It is also mentioned that he used to summon the birds that shaded them, and then the wind that carried them. The reason why Suleiman wanted the throne of Bilqis: Suleiman longed to obtain the great throne of Bilqis, which was said to have been given to her by God. When Suleiman Ghabar saw the great army of Bilqis approaching his kingdom, he hastened to seize its throne. He asked his companions and subordinates to bring the throne before Bilqis arrived at his court in submission. Bilqis's reaction upon seeing her throne with Suleiman: When Bilqis saw her throne in Suleiman's possession, she acknowledged that he was a prophet and that she did not have the strength to confront him militarily. Bilqis expressed her surrender and acceptance of the new faith, which brought an end to her story in the Qur’an. The spiritual significance of the throne of Bilqis: In Qur’anic interpretations, a parallel is drawn between the throne of Bilqis and the heavenly throne of God, indicating the profound spiritual significance of the throne of Bilqis. This close similarity shows how Bilqis enjoyed God's love and mercy, and how she was able to negotiate peace and save her people from destruction. The tale of Bilqis and her throne is a singular illustration of the amalgamation of mythology, history, and religion. Accounts around it display the magnitude of commerce and cultural affiliations in the past, while the edifice of her throne illuminates the artistry and ingenuity of bygone civilizations. Therefore, it may be asserted that the saga of Bilqis offers a standard of power and savvy in Arab and global culture. ✦ ArchUp Editorial Insight The architectural reading of Prophet Suleiman’s legacy invites a bold yet thoughtful bridge between myth, history, and urban symbolism. The article reimagines Suleiman not only as a king but as a master planner — one whose dominion over nature and matter hints at a proto-sustainable logic rarely explored. Yet, the visual metaphors presented lean more on mystical allure than structural evidence. While the poetic tone resonates, the lack of archaeological or spatial grounding leaves the narrative floating between allegory and architecture. For future architectural discourse, especially as we approach 2030, blending sacred history with urban theory requires more than metaphor. It demands critical frameworks that respect faith while offering actionable insights. Otherwise, the risk lies in reducing profound legacies to aesthetic tropes rather than transformative blueprints. https://archup.net/the-iconic-zaha-hadid/ Read the full article

[contractorsinsagency]

Why You Should Hire API Developer in India for Your Business

In the modern world of application development, APIs (Application Programming Interfaces) play a crucial role in enabling seamless communication between software systems. Whether it's integrating payment gateways, social media platforms, or cloud storage services—APIs make it all possible. However, to ensure these APIs are reliable, scalable, and secure, it’s essential to work with the right professionals. That’s where the need to hire API developer in India becomes both strategic and cost-effective.

At Orbit Edge Tech, we specialize in delivering robust, custom API development solutions tailored to meet your business objectives. With a dedicated team of expert developers and years of experience in backend and frontend integration, we help businesses connect systems efficiently and scale faster.

Understanding the Role of an API Developer An API developer is a backend specialist responsible for building and maintaining application programming interfaces that facilitate the interaction between different software components. These developers are the bridge between different systems—ensuring data flows correctly and securely. Their work includes: Designing RESTful or GraphQL APIs

Ensuring APIs are scalable and secure

Creating well-documented endpoints for developers

Handling third-party integrations

Monitoring and debugging API performance

If you’re building a SaaS platform, mobile application, or eCommerce system, APIs are critical. And hiring the right talent to build and manage them can define the success of your digital infrastructure.

Why Businesses Hire API Developer in India India has emerged as a global technology hub for web and software development services. When businesses around the world decide to hire API developer in India, they're making a smart investment for several reasons:

Cost-Effective Development Without Compromising Quality Hiring an API developer in India can help you reduce costs significantly. Indian developers offer competitive pricing while maintaining high standards of quality, code structure, and performance. At Orbit Edge Tech, we believe in delivering top-tier API solutions at transparent and budget-friendly rates.

Skilled and Experienced Talent Pool India is home to thousands of technically skilled professionals with experience in modern frameworks, RESTful architecture, OAuth, JWT, GraphQL, and more. Our developers at Orbit Edge Tech are trained across multiple industries and understand what businesses need from their API architecture.

Time Zone Advantage For businesses in the U.S., U.K., Australia, and the Gulf regions, working with Indian developers provides extended working hours. This time-zone advantage facilitates faster turnarounds, 24/7 support, and quicker delivery cycles.

Communication and Collaboration A common myth is that outsourcing leads to communication gaps. However, Indian API developers, especially those working with reputable firms like Orbit Edge Tech, are well-versed in English and use agile project management tools like Jira, Slack, and Asana to maintain transparency and productivity throughout the engagement.

Agile Development and Customization We understand that your business requirements are unique. When you hire API developer in India through Orbit Edge Tech, you gain access to agile developers who work iteratively and are highly responsive to feedback and change.

API Development Use Cases Across Industries Here are just a few examples of how custom API development can transform your business: eCommerce: Integrate payment gateways like Stripe or Razorpay, logistics APIs like Shiprocket, and CRM systems like Zoho or HubSpot.

Healthcare: Securely transmit patient data using HL7 or FHIR APIs, integrate with wearable devices, and automate reports.

EdTech: Build integrations for online courses, payment, video conferencing, and learning management systems.

Travel & Hospitality: Integrate booking engines, weather APIs, travel insurance providers, and map data.

FinTech: Ensure real-time updates from stock exchanges, banks, credit score systems, and compliance tools.

At Orbit Edge Tech, we’ve delivered API development solutions across all of these sectors and more.

Our API Development Expertise at Orbit Edge Tech When you choose Orbit Edge Tech as your API development partner, you're not just hiring a developer—you're hiring a team committed to delivering business outcomes. We offer: Custom REST & GraphQL API Development

Third-Party API Integration Services

API Security & Performance Optimization

API Testing & Documentation

Microservices-based API Architecture

Each project starts with understanding your core business logic, your data flows, and your end-users. Then, we create robust APIs that integrate seamlessly with your existing or new platforms.

How to Get Started: Hire API Developer in India with Orbit Edge Tech Here’s how simple it is to get started with us: Initial Consultation: Tell us about your project and goals.

Requirement Analysis: Our team dives deep into your business use case and tech stack.

Developer Match: Based on your needs, we assign the best-fit developer or a dedicated team.

Trial & Onboarding: Begin with a trial period or pilot project to evaluate compatibility.

Development & Delivery: We build and deliver your APIs on-time, with QA and documentation.

We offer flexible hiring models—hourly, part-time, or full-time—depending on your project requirements and budget.

Conclusion APIs are at the heart of digital transformation. Whether you're building a mobile app, modernizing your legacy system, or launching a SaaS platform—API integration and development will play a foundational role in your success. If you’re planning to hire API developer in India, Orbit Edge Tech is your trusted technology partner. With a proven track record, experienced talent pool, and commitment to quality, we deliver solutions that empower businesses to scale faster and smarter. Frequently Asked Questions (FAQs) Q1: Why should I hire API developer in India instead of locally? India offers a vast pool of highly skilled developers at competitive rates, ensuring both cost efficiency and quality. With the right partner like Orbit Edge Tech, you also benefit from strong communication, time-zone flexibility, and faster turnaround times.

Q2: What technologies do your API developers use? Our API developers are experienced in Node.js, Express, Laravel, Python (Django/Flask), Ruby on Rails, GraphQL, Swagger/OpenAPI, and API gateways such as Kong and Apigee.

Q3: Can I hire a developer for a short-term API project? Yes. At Orbit Edge Tech, we offer flexible engagement models, including short-term contracts or project-based hiring, ideal for MVPs or system integrations.

Q4: Will my data be secure? Absolutely. We follow industry-standard security protocols like OAuth 2.0, JWT, SSL encryption, and ensure that your API endpoints are protected from threats such as XSS, CSRF, and SQL injection.

Q5: How soon can I get started? You can get started within 48 hours after the initial consultation. Just visit our contact page or call us directly for a free quote.

[motherhoodandmarriage]

How to Raise Kids With Values After Leaving the Church

You Left the Church. So How Do You Raise Kids With Values Now?

It’s a question I get all the time. And honestly? I ask it myself, too.

Because when you step away from the church—whether it was a slow drift, a firm break, or something in between—you lose more than just Sunday mornings. You lose the default blueprint. The ready-made answers. The built-in list of do’s and don’ts for parenting, marriage, purpose, and identity. The community (gosh it takes WORK to build community outside of the construct of church!)

And if you’re raising kids, that loss echoes even louder.

You want to raise grounded, kind, values-driven humans. But without the church, what are the values now? Who defines them? And how do you parent with intention when the guidebook is gone?

This post is part parenting, part identity reclamation. And it’s for anyone whispering: I want to raise my kids with values... even though I’m still figuring out mine.

When Your Kids Ask About God—and You’re Still Sorting It Out

My kids are six and eight. And they love asking big, beautiful, impossible questions. God. Heaven. What happens when we die. What people believe and why it’s different.

Sometimes I want to laugh. Sometimes I want to hide. But mostly, I take a deep breath and turn it back to them.

I’ll say, “That’s such a great question. What do you think?” Or, “Some people believe X, some people believe Y. What feels true to you?” Or even, “I don’t know either. Isn’t it wild that we get to wonder together?”

It’s not always easy. I was raised in a culture that had a Bible verse ready for every tough question. A clear answer. A tidy bow.

Now, I don’t have a pre-approved script. And some days, I really miss that. I miss the security of a checklist—what to say, what to do, how to lead.

But here’s what I’m learning:

I don’t have to hand my kids certainty. I can hand them curiosity, honesty, and trust in their own growing wisdom.

The Myth of the Missing Moral Compass

One of the biggest fears I hear from parents who’ve left the church is this:

“How do I raise kids with a moral compass without religion?”

It’s a valid fear because for many of us, morality was handed to us in a faith-shaped box. Without it, we worry we’ll drift.

But here’s the truth:

You are not lost. You are forging.

You now get to parent with eyes open. You get to choose the kind of values your home reflects—not out of fear or tradition, but out of alignment.

You’re not raising kids in a vacuum. You’re raising them in a thoughtful, intentional home that values:

Empathy over obedience

Critical thinking over blind faith

Repair over punishment

Connection over control

That’s not less than. That’s more.

Define Your Values, Together

One thing I’ve found helpful in my own family is creating space to talk about what we believe and what matters most.

And here’s the kicker: it doesn’t have to be rigid or official. It just needs to be honest.

We’ve had conversations at the dinner table about how people in our family might believe different things—some go to church, some don’t, some believe in heaven, some don’t. And I’ve told my kids, “It’s okay for us to listen, learn, and then decide for ourselves.”

We name values together—kindness, respect, telling the truth, taking responsibility, standing up for what’s right.

If you need help identifying and getting aligned on your values, this is exactly what we do in Relationship Blueprint coaching.

We explore:

Who you are, apart from religion or roles

Who your partner is and how your beliefs connect or differ

What kind of future and family culture you want

How to parent with confidence even when there’s no checklist

How to communicate those values with strength and softness

Whether you’re in a post-church marriage or navigating deconstruction solo, Blueprint coaching gives you a foundation to build on, without going backward.

Raise Kids Who Trust Their Inner Compass

We often think kids need to be taught what’s right and wrong. But honestly? They already know a lot of it. What they really need is space to explore, name, and trust it.

Here’s what I tell my kids:

You can trust your gut

You can feel your feelings

You can ask any question

You can believe something today and shift tomorrow

It’s not chaos. It’s growth. And it’s how we raise kids who aren’t just parroting back what we told them—but learning how to listen inward and live outward with integrity.

Yes, It’s Hard Without the Blueprint

Let’s be real: parenting without a religious framework can feel like trying to assemble IKEA furniture with no manual.

There’s no “approved” prayer for hard moments. No playbook for grief, guilt, or joy. No community potluck to wrap you in casseroles and comfort.

Sometimes I miss it. And I let myself feel that.

But I also remind myself: the blueprint I’m building now is one that fits us. It’s rooted in who we are today. It leaves room for change. And it’s honest, which means it’s sustainable.

Rituals Still Matter—You Just Get to Create Them

If you left behind Sunday services or faith-based holidays, your calendar might feel emptier now. And your kids may ask questions like:

Why don’t we go to church like Grandma?

What do we celebrate instead of Easter?

Why do some families pray before eating?

Instead of avoiding those questions, we lean in.

I’ll say, “That’s what works for them. We get to do what works for us. Isn’t it cool that families are different?”

And then we build our own rituals:

A Sunday breakfast ritual where we check in on the week

Lighting a candle at dinner and sharing one thing we’re thankful for

Picking one way each month to show kindness to someone else

Creating “just because” celebrations when we need a joy boost

You don’t have to throw away all ritual. You just get to reimagine it—without dogma, with deep meaning.

Let’s Recap: Practical Ways to Raise Kids With Values After Leaving the Church

Name your values out loud. Decide on 4–6 that feel true. Revisit them often.

Talk with, not at, your kids. Ask what they think. Let them wrestle and wonder.

Explain family differences. Teach that people believe different things—and that’s okay.

Model inner authority. Show your kids how you listen to your gut, own your choices, and repair when needed.

Create meaningful rituals. Structure matters. You just get to build it your way.

Normalize not knowing. Say “I don’t know” and “Let’s explore that together.”

Find community. You don’t have to go it alone. Build friendships rooted in shared values.

Want Help Defining Your Family’s Values?

If you’re ready to create a family culture that feels aligned, intentional, and you—let’s talk.

Relationship Blueprint Coaching is a 4-month experience that dives deep into:

Who you are without the church scripts

How your beliefs shape your parenting and partnership

What kind of family legacy you’re creating—and how to get on the same page

The communication tools that make it all possible

It’s honest, vulnerable, and life-giving. And it’s how you go from “I’m lost” to “I know exactly what we’re building.”

You don’t need all the answers. You just need the courage to keep asking the questions. You’re not behind. You’re becoming.

And your kids? They’re watching you walk this road with honesty, grit, and grace. That’s the real legacy.

[techindiasoftware]

Top Reasons to Hire a WordPress Web Development Company in India

In today’s digital economy, having a strong, professional, and fully optimized website is more than just a luxury—it’s a necessity. With WordPress leading the content management system market, businesses of all sizes are turning to this powerful platform to build and scale their online presence. Among global options, choosing a WordPress web development company in India has become increasingly popular for its combination of technical skill, cost-efficiency, and reliability. Here are the top reasons why partnering with an Indian WordPress development company can be a game-changer for your business.

Global Expertise at Competitive Pricing One of the primary reasons businesses outsource to India is cost-effectiveness. A WordPress web development company in India offers premium-quality services at rates significantly lower than agencies in the US, UK, or Australia. The lower operational and labor costs allow Indian firms to deliver the same level of quality for a fraction of the price, making it ideal for startups and enterprises alike.

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[babble-gumy]

Another project i found from the attic of my phone. this probably got a lot of disclaimer becuz i think i wrote and search this at 7th grade and didn't know the importance of citations, forgive me. Ill just drop this here so it'll take the weight of phone storage and memories.

Works of Publius Ovidus Naso:

Born in 43 bc in Sulmo, Italy.Rome

Died ad 17 in exile

#1: Amore's (Is a short series of poems depicting various phases of love affair with a literally constructed woman named Corinna.

#2: Fasti (an account of the Roman year and it's religious festivals. The Fasti was a national poem, intended to take it's place in the Augustan literally program.

#3: Icarus and Phatoeon in the epic Metamorphosis. It is a collection of mythological and legendary stories of mythical characters, it is metamorphosis itself, the change of human form as if like gods.

#4: He also has a work called Meadea

Ovid’s extant poems are all written in elegiac couplets except for the Metamorphoses.

The Amores, or the Loves. Is a short series of poems depicting various phases of love affair with a literally constructed woman named Corinna.

But then his effectively exhausted in the idea of love-elegy and Ovid turned to new types of poetry in which he could use his supreme narrative and descriptive gifts.

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Ovid wrote the Fasti, consisting 12 books, is an account of the Roman year and it's religious festivals. The Fasti was a national poem, intended to take it's place in the Augustan literally program. In this Ovid rehabilitate in the eyes of ruling dynasty. Contians flattery and patriotism.

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Ovid’s next work, the Metamorphoses. An epic.

The Metamorphoses is a long poem in 15 books It is a collection of mythological and legendary stories of mythical characters, it is metamorphosis itself, the change of human form as if like gods. the essential theme of the poem is passion

Metamorphoses was complete, if not yet formally published; when Ovid seemed securely placed on a pinnacle of successful achievement, that he was banished to Tomis by the emperor.

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Ovid arrived at his place of exile.

In his solitude and depression, Ovid turned again to poetry, now of a more personal and introspective.

But then time came; with no encouragement from home, Ovid lacked the heart to continue to write the sort of poetry that had made him famous, and the later Epistulae ex Ponto make melancholy reading. And there he died.

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Ovid’s verse is remarkable for its smoothness, fluency, and balance.

He succeeded in the difficult task of adapting.

Ovid wrote a brilliant medley of social and personal satire, vignettes of Roman life and manners, and charming mythological digressions.

Ovid’s full powers: his wit and rhetorical brilliance, his mythological learning, and the peculiar qualities of his fertile imagination.

His genius for narrative and vivid description

His undoubted rhetorical gifts have caused him to be dubbed insincere and even heartless

. Judged, however, by his gift for fantasy, Ovid is one of the great poets of all time through the characters may it be human and divine.

Passion, humour, beauty, and cruelty are mingled in a unique individual vision. Ovid’s talent is not of that highest order he stands but a deeper reality.

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And his popularity continued even after his death. Even now his works are read in schools. Ovid’s chief appeal stems from the humanity of his writing: its gaiety, its sympathy, its exuberance, its pictorial and sensuous quality. It is those things that have recommended him, down the ages.

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WHY I CHOSE PUBLIUS OVID?

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I chose Ovid for he rewrote one of my favorite myth: The fall of Icarus.

In his poem quoted: 'drawn on by his eagerness in the open sky, he left his guide and soared upwards'

He didn't originally wrote the myth cause he is from Rome, his roman. Most of the myths in Rome came from Greece, so Greco-Roman myths. I just love that he rewrite the myth of Icarus and Daedalus, almost bringing it back to life.

[yhwhrulz]

Wayside Chapel Daily Devotional 14th January 2025

1/14 Matthew 27:64

64 Therefore order the tomb to be made secure until the third day, lest his disciples go and steal him away and tell the people, 'He has risen from the dead,' and the last fraud will be worse than the first."

The religious authorities went to the governor and asked for the tomb to be guarded because Jesus had said He would rise on the third day. Their excuse was that the disciples might try to steal the body and claim Jesus rose from the dead, but that doesn't really make sense. If no one saw Him alive, who would believe the story? And what if the body was later discovered? Certainly the Roman authorities would have the power to search for it until they found it. If Jesus had not risen from the dead, the disciples would not have been inspired to risk their lives to proclaim the gospel.

Could it be that the religious leaders were more afraid of Jesus rising from the dead than the disciples were hopeful it would come to pass? Was it the leaders' knowledge of Scripture that caused them to fear the possibility that He would rise? Did they really believe a guard of soldiers could keep the risen Messiah in the tomb? That sounds like a last-ditch effort to hang on to their power and positions.

Would Matthew have written our verse for today for any other reason than to record the factual event? If he were trying to propagate a myth, he certainly would not have raised the suggestion that the disciples could steal the body. Nothing in the physical or spiritual realm could stop Jesus from rising from death. Jesus was seen by hundreds of people. All the efforts of the religious establishment couldn't stop the plan of God. Jesus was-and is-alive!

Consider: Nothing could stop Jesus from rising from death. Nothing can stop His inevitable return. How should we then live?

[archupnet]

Architecture and the Throne of Bilqis Dive into the enigmatic world of the Throne of Sheba, where ancient architecture meets myth. This article offers an in-depth exploration of the architectural splendor and historical mysteries surrounding one of the most intriguing artifacts of the ancient world. Join us in uncovering the secrets behind the throne that has captivated historians and architects alike Origins of Balqis Bilqis, known in Jewish and Islamic traditions, was the queen of the Kingdom of Sheba in southwestern Arabia, and a popular character in numerous tales and legends. In the biblical accounts of King Solomon's reign, Bilqis visited his court and attested to the existence of important trade relations between ancient Israel and southern Arabia. Description of Bilqis' throne What is today called the Throne of Bilqis is known from ancient Sabaean inscriptions in the Temple of Bran, which is believed to have been the main location of Queen Bilqis' throne. This temple displays a unique architectural harmony, as the majestic main entrance and the courtyard meet to face a steep staircase with a wonderful architectural display that indicates the grandeur of its construction. The legendary stories surrounding Bilqis In Islamic tradition, the story of Bilqis appears in the Holy Quran, where she is known as Bilqis. According to one account, Suleiman sent a message to Bilqis urging her to worship God after the hoopoe told him that she and her kingdom worshiped the sun. After exchanging letters and gifts, Bilqis personally visited Suleiman's court. Surat An-Naml in the Qur’an In the Holy Qur’an, the story of ants appears in Surah An-Naml, which is the twenty-seventh surah and contains 93 verses. This surah shows precise details about the story of Solomon, who was said to have converted Queen Bilqis to Islam after the hoopoe informed him that she was a queen who worshiped the sun. It is also mentioned in this Surah how Solomon was able to understand the speech of ants. Based on the Holy Quran, Bilqis's visit to Solomon's Palace is described in a way that reflects the grandeur of the architecture and architectural design that brilliantly uses optical illusions. When Bilqis entered the magnificent palace of Suleiman, she encountered a floor made of shining glass that looked like water. This description highlights how Belqis, believing that she was in front of a real body of water, raised the edges of her dress to avoid getting wet. This is an example of the precision and innovation in the palace's architecture, as Suleiman used glass to create a stunning optical illusion. In this incident, architecture emerges as an essential element in the story, emphasizing the wisdom and skill that King Solomon enjoyed in designing his palace. The Qur’anic description of Bilqis’s reaction shows not only the depth and importance of the story in the religious text, but also highlights the great importance of architecture and design in that historical era. This type of detail shows the high professionalism and creativity of ancient architecture, underscoring its status as an integral part of human history and heritage. Belqis: an architectural miracle The throne of Bilqis was known for its splendor and distinction, and stories tell of one of the jinn offering the Prophet Solomon to bring this throne before the Prophet could get up from its place. However, another wise man in the court made an even more surprising offer, promising to bring him the throne in the blink of an eye. Indeed, the throne of Sheba was transferred to Solomon in a supernatural way, such that it was waiting for Bilqis upon her arrival, which proved to her the superior ability and wisdom of Solomon. This event is not only a miracle in its religious context, but also an expression of the great architectural prowess and technical ability that was envisioned in this story. Security protection for the throne: Before Bilqis left to visit Suleiman, she ordered that her throne be placed in the innermost room of the seven interconnected rooms inside her castle. She closed the doors behind her and placed guards to protect it, stressing the need to keep the throne safe until she returned. Solomon and his wonderful throne: It is reported that Solomon bin Daoud had six hundred thrones prepared, where noble humans would sit near him, and then noble jinn would come to sit near the humans. It is also mentioned that he used to summon the birds that shaded them, and then the wind that carried them. The reason why Suleiman wanted the throne of Bilqis: Suleiman longed to obtain the great throne of Bilqis, which was said to have been given to her by God. When Suleiman Ghabar saw the great army of Bilqis approaching his kingdom, he hastened to seize its throne. He asked his companions and subordinates to bring the throne before Bilqis arrived at his court in submission. Bilqis's reaction upon seeing her throne with Suleiman: When Bilqis saw her throne in Suleiman's possession, she acknowledged that he was a prophet and that she did not have the strength to confront him militarily. Bilqis expressed her surrender and acceptance of the new faith, which brought an end to her story in the Qur’an. The spiritual significance of the throne of Bilqis: In Qur’anic interpretations, a parallel is drawn between the throne of Bilqis and the heavenly throne of God, indicating the profound spiritual significance of the throne of Bilqis. This close similarity shows how Bilqis enjoyed God's love and mercy, and how she was able to negotiate peace and save her people from destruction. The tale of Bilqis and her throne is a singular illustration of the amalgamation of mythology, history, and religion. Accounts around it display the magnitude of commerce and cultural affiliations in the past, while the edifice of her throne illuminates the artistry and ingenuity of bygone civilizations. Therefore, it may be asserted that the saga of Bilqis offers a standard of power and savvy in Arab and global culture. ✦ ArchUp Editorial Insight The architectural reading of Prophet Suleiman’s legacy invites a bold yet thoughtful bridge between myth, history, and urban symbolism. The article reimagines Suleiman not only as a king but as a master planner — one whose dominion over nature and matter hints at a proto-sustainable logic rarely explored. Yet, the visual metaphors presented lean more on mystical allure than structural evidence. While the poetic tone resonates, the lack of archaeological or spatial grounding leaves the narrative floating between allegory and architecture. For future architectural discourse, especially as we approach 2030, blending sacred history with urban theory requires more than metaphor. It demands critical frameworks that respect faith while offering actionable insights. Otherwise, the risk lies in reducing profound legacies to aesthetic tropes rather than transformative blueprints. https://archup.net/the-iconic-zaha-hadid/ Read the full article