#Scripture Coloring Page

[sammyj-studios]

I'm Officially a Published Illustrator!

Mark W. Merrill and I have been working tirelessly to create this Interactive Journal! "Battle Ready" is an interactive devotional guiding you on a 7-day journey through Ephesians 6: The Armor of God.

And this is no ordinary journal, Battle Ready allows you to "Color your Soul". Express yourself and meditate with Coloring Pages, visualizing our hero, Philip as we follow him on his journey. All drawn by Yours Truly!

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[akamitrani]

THE FIFTH ROSARY

Cardinal Vincent Benítez x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None basically. Not yet.

Summary: A quiet meeting in a sacred place stirs temptation. In the hush of blooming roses, the line between devotion and desire begins to blur.

[A/N: Yup, you are seeing it right. Yet another husband for the collection. I'm quite literally on my knees for him. I even came back from my death slumber to post here, all because of this fkng puppy-eyed dilf. Anyways, enjoy this short fic.]

Chapter 1: In His name

The chapel had light filtering through old stained glass, casting soft colors over marble and wood. You stepped inside with your visitation group, taking careful quiet steps so your shoes wouldn’t echo too loudly against the stone.

The scent of old incense and beeswax lingered in the vaulted air. But why were you here? Well, you were on a private study visit. Invited personally by the Vatican to witness the sacred beauty of Rome's inner sanctums. You had wandered a few steps ahead of your university group, drawn by the grandeur of the space... That was when you saw him.

Seated near the altar in solemn thought was a man in deep crimson vestments, his head tilted slightly downward, reading – or perhaps praying. He was absorbed in scripture, his hands held the open book with so much tenderness and your eyes were immediatelly drawn to him.

His posture was regal; His salt-and-pepper hair curled slightly at the temples. His face was lined, aged by experience and prayers rather than time, with a jaw that spoke of strength and wisdom with lips that looked too soft for a man of such stature.

The golden sunlight touched his features.

You hadn’t expected him to be so… striking.

You didn’t mean to stare, but you couldn’t look away. The intensity of his gaze, even at rest, made your heart slow down. He looked carved from the very shadows of the sanctuary — graceful, solemn and divine.

And then, he lifted his gaze – and saw you.

You forced yourself to look away when his eyes – so dark, so piercing – looked right through you.

Had he noticed the way you were staring?

Your breath hitched and you turned quickly, pretending to study the carvings on a nearby column, flustered. You tried to return to your group, to focus on the frescoes and carvings but you felt his eyes on you like sunlight through a magnifying glass.

He had felt it — the fire of your gaze. And when his eyes had met your burning glance, something shifted in him — a jolt had passed through his soul, sharp and unexpected. His breath caught. His heartbeat stumbled... Loud and traitorous.

Dios mío...

You were... Breathtaking. There was something holy in your beauty. Something dangerously sinful too. Your eyes, too curious. Your mouth, too soft. Your presence, too invitating.

What is this? A test?

I should not feel, I must not. But–

Lord help me... I want to.

You quietly slipped away from the chapel through a open doorway into the secluded garden outside, trying to flee the tension... To not think more of it. But the Cardinal? He would be no longer able to focus on his prayers anymore.

I must see her again.

The garden behind the chapel wasn’t part of the official tour. But it was quiet, kissed by shade and wind, vines crept over stone walls and red roses bloomed in quiet pride everywhere. You stopped there to breathe, letting the silence settle over you. You had come here to quiet your thoughts, but they followed.

You closed your eyes, not in prayer. Not really. Not when your thoughts kept returning to him. Something holy — Something forbidden.

Was it wrong… to feel like this? To feel the fluttering heat when you recalled the slight furrow between his brows, the curve of his mouth, when he turned a page of scripture with those long, ringed fingers.

You knew what he was: A man of God. And yet, still a man.

Could desire ever be holy, if it came from reverence? Could the yearning to be near someone, body and soul, ever be pure? Is it truly sinful to feel this way? About him?

He was already there. Waiting.

That’s when you heard the approaching footsteps, they were calm and deliberate. You turned, half-expecting to see a fellow student, but your breath caught when you realized he was right there. Observing you.

“I hope I didn’t startle you” – he spoke up – “I... noticed you during prayers. You looked radiant.”

Your lips parted to answer, but nothing came out at first. You didn’t know how to respond to that.

“Excuse me” – he said softly, almost unsure – “I do not mean to intrude.”

You shook your head, finally breaking your silence – “Please, not at all.”

He approached slowly, his gaze studying your face, he stopped a few paces away – “May I ask your name?”

“My name is Y/N.” – You said, giving him a shy smile.

“Y/N...” – He repeated it in a whisper, like a prayer, as if testing the taste of it on his tongue – “It suits you far too well.”

“And what is your name, Eminence?” – You asked.

He seemed to pause, not out of hesitation, but care – “Vincent” – he said at last, with kind eyes – “Though few say it anymore. Most only know me as Cardinal Benítez.”

There was something deeply intimate in the way he said it. As if giving you this name was offering a part of himself rarely spoken aloud.

“Vincent” – you whispered, trying the name out like a secret – “It suits you very well too.”

He stepped closer, his robes trailing like flame behind him. The breeze lifted a few strands of his silver hair. The Cardinal stood just beside you, his hands clasped in front of him, as if he feared they might betray him.

His voice, was low and warm – “This garden draws the quiet-hearted.”

You tried to smile, though you knew you must have looked nervous under his presence – “It's beautiful here.”

“As are you” – he replied before catching himself – “Forgive me. That was… unguarded.”

You could feel your cheeks burning.

He glanced toward the roses – “I often come here to think. But today, I find myself wondering more than thinking.” – He said and you looked at him with curiosity.

He smiled faintly, his fingers grazed the petals of a rose in front of you – “Even men of the cloth are not immune to storms of the heart.”

He walked slightly past you, towards the flower. You watched as he bent slightly, selected one deep crimson bloom and gently plucked it from the vine. He lifted it to his face and inhaled.

“Roses burn when the sun is too strong” – he said, eyes still on the flower – “But in the right light, they thrive.”

Then he turned and handed the rose to you. You accepted it wordlessly, fingers brushed his delicately before they folded behind his back – “You seemed lost in deep thought earlier.”

You couldn’t speak right away. His voice was calm but his eyes were… intense. Curious. Hungry in a way that made you shiver, though nothing in his posture was improper.

“I… I was.” – you said, turning your face slightly so he wouldn’t see how warm your cheeks had become – “I was just... thinking about desire. About whether it can be... holy.”

The words left your lips before you could stop them.

You swallowed – “Do you believe… desire can be holy?”

His heart jolted.

She is a flame, and I am walking into it.

She does not know what she does.

But I do. And it is dangerous.

He looked down with the smallest, troubled smile tug at his mouth. He approached again, standing close enough that you could see the flecks of silver in his hair.

“Desire” – his voice like velvet, fingers reaching out to brush a single strand of hair from your face – “There is a kind of desire that leads us closer to truth… to ourselves. And perhaps even to God. But desire is a fire. It can warm, or it can consume.”

His fingers lingered just an instant too long before they dropped back behind him.

“It can cloud the mind. Pull us away from what is sacred” – he continued – “But it can be divine, when it is the soul reaching for something pure.”

He looked at me fully now, and I saw it — the softness. The ache. He was trying to protect me. From himself.

That was when I heard my name being called from the chapel. My group was gathering. The sound of distant voices brought me back to reality of where I was. What I was.

“I… I have to go.” – you said, afflicted by the thought of leaving.

“So soon?” – he murmured. Then almost to himself – “Por Dios…”

His eyes met yours and you saw it – the yearning, the question he didn’t ask, the actions he didn’t dare to act on, the prayer he didn’t dare speak aloud.

Unsure what to say, you hesitated. He seemed like he wanted to say something more, to ask you to stay. You wanted to stay.

“I apologize, I didn’t mean to keep you...” – he said after a moment, his voice now lower – “It’s rare to meet someone who makes the quiet feel louder.”

“Thank you for the time, Vincent. Really.” – you thanked sweetly and a ghost of sadness touched his smile.

“Until we meet again” – he replied gently, you could feel the weight behind it.

You nodded, taking some steps back – “I hope so.”

Then you turned to leave, heart beating too fast, too full. And behind you, you could feel his gaze — warm, intense, restrained — holding onto the moment like you did.

He remained in the garden alone, watching you go as if afraid you might disappear completely. When you turned a corner out of view, he closed his eyes.. Cardinal Benítez stood where you had been, staring at the rose bush.

He slowly reached inside his robe and withdrew his rosary, fingers ghosting over each bead. Pressing it to his lips, he whispered beneath his breath:

"Déjala volver a mí…"

Let her come back to me.

The wind stirred the roses.

And the prayer hung there, caught in the stillness.

[ A/N : should I continue? ]

REPOSTS AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED

[bernardellinewsagency]

Have any other Galladay shippers gone diving into HSR lore cause you're a little too obsessed with the game and ended up thinking about how you could create parallels between not only Sunday and Dominicus, but also Gallagher and Aelenev (and that you could make it gay)? Or is it just me who's spending too much time wishing we had more lore about the Harmonic Strings?

Putting my ramblings under the cut cause it's long and there's some spoilers in case anyone still hasn't finished the Penacony quests

Sunday and Dominicus, that's pretty obvious. It's the Wisher of the Harmonious Choir that he attempts to bring forth at the Charmony Festival, using his power as well as the Order to spread Ena's influence among all those slumbering within Penacony. When talking about Dominicus, "A Hymn of Charmonic Strings" says "Prayers you suckle from the millions gathered here, and the masses' heartstrings you play," which could very well allude to Sunday's plan of placing everyone into the most perfect dreams they could wish for, dreams they would never wish to wake from. And like, apparently the name Sunday is even derived from Dominicus or something, according to the etymology notes on the HSR wiki page.

But that same readable mentions Aelenev, the Commander of the Eternal Centurion, and first of all that's just a cool fucking name in general. Second of all, there's several points that can stand out when looking upon the full section of the hymn,

"O, Great One of Paradise, Caress this scripture that is stained by blood on the battlefield, and kiss my longsword of bone and soul, Life is howling, and the sharp blade of streaming colors hangs high. Aelenev, do you hear? The soldiers' bones are buried at the end of the world. Comrades' whisper united, and the gospel can be heard for miles long, Blissful rain pours out thus, and one person equals to thousands. Thought they be the invincible steeds and death, they too long for their home deep in their soul."

The main part that I choose to look at is "one person equals to thousands," as there's lots of ways that could be interpreted. There is, of course, the fact that the Family is basically a hivemind, and also how Aelenev was summoned on one occasion and his sword was "unsheathed from the scabbard of 4,630,000 Hounds" which I take to mean as sort of manifested from their collective minds and wills, so to speak. Similar to how Gallagher is a lie manifested from the traits of 52 loyal Family members, no? And longing for a home deep in their soul, soldiers' bones that have been buried, a scripture stained by blood, I personally think that those could easily be taken as references to Mikhail, the revolution that led to Penacony being formed in the first place, and how Gallagher misses those he used to know. Or maybe not references, but they certainly could hold a similar meaning. I don't know, I'm not a fucking literature major or anything, I study animals and nature. This is just me being a massive nerd on the internet.

Anyways, this is mostly just to wonder if anyone else has/is thinking of using these parallels to make really gay stuff. Sunday should get more weird and fucked up with his affection in fics, because I think it would be really fun to see. Have him call Gallagher "my Aelenev" or something, make him want to craft Gallagher into a wonderful embodiment of the Harmony the same way as he attempted to usurp Dominicus' power. Get weird with it!

Or hey go a step further and make yaoi about the Harmonic Strings themselves. I'd do it. I'd fucking do it. I'm insane about this game's lore sometimes.

Also: Robin could be a parallel for Constantina, the singer of the Panacoustic Theater. That just leaves Beatriz, the merrymaker of the Blissful Ball, who I suppose could be parallel to Sparkle? Not to say that all four of them need to be represented by members of the Penacony cast, I'm just coming up with random thoughts about it.

[novistarplanet]

Daddy's Girl

ExDrugDealer!Connie x BlackReader

summary:

cw:

wc;

a/n; hope yall don't get offended by this only read this over once this is also for my fllwers 🩷 + requests are open

Growing up you were raised with a very religious background your furthest memory to date was your mom making you sing in the choir.

You didn't mind at all you actually liked going to church at times with your father being the pastor you were inspected to be modest all the time since you had a reputation to uphold.

Which means no growing up. No parties, No skimpy clothing, and most importantly No boyfriends.

You could never wrap your head around it.

"Y/N pull out your bible and pay attention maybe kids your age can learn something from it" Your Auntie Ruthie smacks your arm with her hand fan.

pulling out your pink bible turning the page to the scripture.

It felt like forever of your dad preaching about the same things but with different words.

Each time he finishes reciting the stories a string of "hallelujahs" and "amen" flooded the medium-sized church.

it was going just like every Sunday went it was just about time for offering when you noticed a man well boy with a collection of tattoos that marked his neck and entire two arms standing beside your father

"Brothers and sisters ill like to introduce a new family member of our church Brother Springer"

looking around you it's clear as day not everyone was with the idea of him joining.

His full name was Connie Springer or "Constance" as people called him in the streets. He was a big-known drug dealer in the area who was recently shot.

Who now found himself in your daddy's church ranting about him finding God.

Did you believe him? Hell No. But as a Christian, you have to see the good in people.... so who are you to judge?

“Now folks I want you to open him with open arms lets all bow our heads and say a prayer towards this young brotha!” on cue, everyone bowed their head as your father recites the words.

You could feel eyes watching you while each word was spoken. slowly opening your eyes up you see Connie smirking at you biting his lip

you couldn't help but stare he was oddly attractive your aunties warned you to stay away from thugs and deadbeats.

but something about him made your heart skipped.

closing your eyes again focusing on the prayer and blocking him out but it wasn't too long before negative thoughts filled your mind.

dirty ones.

you have been having dreams of someone buried deep between your plush dark toned thighs slopping all over your messy cunt while one of his hands is wrapped around your neck.

rising up from your two soft pillows your clear juices dripping from he’s barely visible stubble beard.

His hands soon found home around your jaw shaking it roughly

“open your fucking mouth bitch” the dark figure huffed out.

quickly opening your mouth obeying his command

he used the hand that was wrapped around your jaw lifting it up and shoving it back down.

“you know what to do stop actin dumb” he takes his other hand that was originally holding your thigh to slap you across the face till your pink little tongue came out.

“ m’imma reward you for being so good” he hurtles a gob of spit down your throat forcing you to swallow it.

“yea thats it you really want daddy’s dick huh? you fuckin dirty whore” he lets go of the placements of hands as now they found their way towards his pants.

unzipping them revealing dark blue boxers with a large bulge

slowly pulling the-

“Y/N! You better not be sleep!” your auntie hits your side again slightly shoving you.

by the time you opened your eyes, everyone was on their way out probably going to red lobster or olive garden.

“now this is my first and only daughter y/n” You look over to see your dad talking to Connie looking directly at you.

connie still had the look in his eyes he did before

“well look at gawd y/n come over here and say hi to our new member”

you walk over gripping at your coral-colored dress.

“Hola hermosa, ¿cómo estás?” he spoke his spanish fast and you couldn’t lie you found it attractive especially the way hes tongue moves

“huh?? sorry im not very fluent in spanish” heat flooded your cheeks quickly. maybe you should have paid attention in spanish.

“ahh it’s okay Cariño i was either at first” followed by that he opened hes mouth displaying hes pearlie white teeth shiny teeth and me you guess.

“well good news baby connie here is coming to bible study”

okay what does that have to do with you???

“and you’re gonna help him find the way of god”

WHAT??

Today was the day you and connie were having a one on prayer session. You didn’t even know the boys last name.

and here you are wearing a simple peach shade dress with white stockings underneath.

not to mention the black lace bra that cups your breasts perfectly

you walked in to see Connie already there reading over the bible

he was wearing a wife beater tattoos marked all over hes two arms depictions of guns,skulls and you even spotted prayer hands.

you quickly rush towards your seat right in front of him he slowly raises he's head up meeting you in the eye.

"how long have you been staring at me hermosa?"

you quickly bended your head down shying away from he's grazed as he chuckles.

"im just joking with your baby"

despite the lingering sexual tension in the air you continue preaching

"uh okay so in Matthew 4:1 it talks about temptation from the devil and"

as you continue with the verse you can feel hes eyes lingering across your stockings you couldn't help but to look towards hes peeking becip.

during the session Constance lip bites , winking and even hes hand traveling too far down your cleavage

" and we drink the grape juice to symbolize Jesus’s purity an-“

“your not pure are you”

your head whips up with quickness as the words left hes mouth”

“what are you talking about?”

“i know you we’re having a wet dream about me sunday”

he arises from hes chair and puts your right leg over hes shoulder

he pulled up your skirt exposing your white dolly panties with a small bow on top with a small patch of wetness on the soft cloth.

“the only name i respond to is daddy” his hands found comfort around your throat. testing the waters he squeezed tightly.

“ is that clear whore?”

“yes daddy” small tears begin to prick from the corner of your eyes.

everything happened so fast your skirt and panties fully removed with your left breast making an appearance out.

“ do i have permission?”

you noticed his pants were ready off leaving him in his boxers in the short time you came to terms with everything.

slowly nodding your head up and down in agreement

“words hermosa”

“yes daddy”

he , mischievously grins down at you pulling off in boxers in a swift motion revealing he's length in all its greatness

you never seen a dick face to face this was all new

the tip of he’s head lined up to your entrance making its way inside of you

you can feel your body being rigid with inch length goes in

“Dios mío why didn’t you tell me you were this fucking tight”

he started moving in and out of you at a slow pace. You can tell by the look on his face he was holding himself back

he made soft movements as he kept going in and out

the pain on its own was unbearable it was like someone stabbing your uterus over and over again it didn't make it no better that you can feel him knocking at the entrance of your Cervix.

after a while of bad after bad thumps pleasure develops in your tummy.

"ohhhhh my god"

your hands went down and gripped the base of the chair despite the loud sounds the chair constantly makes. he stops for a minute repositioning himself into a better angle and striking himself back in you. His movements came with practice and skill as he continuously flicker your G-spot. You breathes were uneven and lost in the noises that your pussy made.

you could tell he was close he's movements became more sloppier with each stroke.

"im cumming oh my fucking god im cumming"

he's fingers found their place on your clit going in a circular motion.

you too both groan loudly together while the waves of pleasure passed you as he spills himself inside you he speaks again with he's deep voice.

"same time next Wednesday?"

[sergiosimptellitto]

Sincerely, F.P.

Chapter 5: Guilt

TW: Frank's catholic guilt, mention of Biblical characters

You get out of the car on automatic. The door closes behind you with a hush and a click, and the black sedan rolls off into the street like a dark thought vanishing down a corridor.

You still hold the small art booklet he gave you inside the gallery. Pages of brutalism and strange oil tones, folded under your arm like a forgotten promise.

Upstairs, the key sticks slightly in the lock. Your hands are steady. You’re not trembling—why would you be? You didn’t say anything wrong. You simply spoke what you believed. You gave him scripture, not sentiment. It should have been enough.

But in the mirror above your sink, your eyes betray you. They're wide. Lit. Like someone just told you you were precious and meant it.

You toss the booklet onto your desk and sit. There’s no reason to go over the conversation again. And yet.

“You weren’t sent here. You were placed.” “Don’t wear black. You should be in white.”

You tell yourself it means nothing. He’s dramatic. He speaks in metaphors. He speaks like a man who built an empire on the weight of his name.

----------------------(Art gallery, three hours ago)------------------------

You spot him before he sees you—or perhaps he always sees you first, and only lets you catch up when he wants. Tonight, he’s standing beneath a mobile of glass birds suspended from the vaulted ceiling, sipping something golden. He’s dressed like wealth isn’t even a choice—an expensive wool overcoat tossed across his shoulders, no tie, but the air around him still stiff with formality.

“Tesoro,” he says with soft delight when he sees you. “Let me look at you.”

You’re in a borrowed coat over the dress again—same cut, different color—and it fits better than last time. His eyes linger, not long enough to make you flinch, just long enough that you feel it down your spine.

“You clean up well,” he says. Then, quieter, “But then again, I knew that when I picked the dress.”

You laugh nervously, not knowing how to answer that. The gallery is warm, crowded with wine and whispers. Classical music hums under the chatter. Oil paintings and glossy sculptures loom on all sides, most of them impossible to understand.

He loops his arm lightly through yours.

“This is Claudia.” “This is François.” “This man here funded a museum in Sicily.” “This one has three degrees and a mistress who paints.”

You nod, smile, shake hands. A few people ask about your research. He doesn’t answer for you, but stands close enough that his silence seems like permission. You speak simply—about labor informality, gendered workspaces, underpaid sectors. You reference a few scholars, a few anecdotes.

"You're articulate," one woman says, tipping her wine glass.

“She is,” Frank murmurs next to you, like it’s a secret only he knows.

Later, when the crowds thin and the gallery feels softer, you both stand in front of a small, quiet painting: a man crouched in the snow, holding a splintered violin. You don’t say anything for a while.

Frank does.

“You like sad things.”

You shrug. “I like things that are honest.”

He turns to you slowly, eyes unreadable.

“Careful, tesoro. That kind of honesty makes you dangerous. Or very lonely.”

You laugh, but quietly. “I’m used to that.”

He doesn’t respond. Just gently adjusts your coat collar, fingers lingering too long against your skin.

Outside, snow has begun to fall again. His driver opens the door. Frank gestures for you to enter first. As you step in, he leans closer, and says low against your ear:

“You don’t need the café. Or the music halls. Or the cold benches at the library. If you need something, you ask me. I’ll give it to you. You understand?”

You nod, unsure what part of that made your breath hitch more—the possessiveness, or the certainty.

The gallery lights are still warm in your mind when you mention it. The car hums under you both, but you’ve stopped noticing the sound of the engine on these drives.

"Have you made use of your new library, amore?" he casually asks as you walk perched on his arm.

You nod to respond“I read something yesterday,” you say, watching the snow blink past the tinted window. “In L’année dernière à Marienbad, there’s this line… something about memory being less a record than a rehearsal. That we live events again and again until they stop hurting.”

Frank turns toward you slightly. “And do they stop?”

You consider. “Only if you forgive yourself.”

“Ah,” he murmurs. “Forgiveness.” He leans back, eyes on the dark leather ceiling. “A Protestant concept. Quick and clean. Instant absolution. No kneeling. No penance. No Latin.”

You smile. “Catholic?”

“Since birth,” he says. “Raised on guilt. Proper, formative guilt. It teaches you something important. That you’re never too clean.”

There’s a beat.

“Guilt is necessary,” he adds. “It’s the only thing that tells us when we’ve crossed a line. Without it, we’re just animals with good suits.”

You tilt your head. “It’s true that a lack of self-awareness can lead to a lack of accountability, guilt is a God-given ability to turn to him, and recognize the need for his forgiveness” you say slowly, “but excessive guilt can also be an excuse for pride.”

His brow lifts. “Pride?”

You nod. “Peter denied Jesus. Judas sold him. Both felt guilt. Peter wept bitterly, but let himself be forgiven. Judas—he returned the silver, tried to undo it. He was overcome with guilt… and killed himself.”

Frank doesn’t answer right away. His jaw is still.

“Peter let forgiveness bring him back to Jesus,” you say, more softly. “Judas didn’t. Sometimes people choose guilt because forgiveness would mean admitting they’re not the worst monster in the room.”

There’s a sharp pause in the cabin. Then he laughs—quiet, surprised. Not mocking.

“Tesoro,” he murmurs. “You’re dangerous.”

You shrug. “Just well-read.”

“No,” he says. “Dangerous.” His gaze doesn’t leave yours now. “You see into people. Most men would kill to be seen. Some would kill not to be.”

You blink.

His voice dips. “Tell me. Which kind do you think I am?”

You stare back at him, heart suddenly tapping harder against your ribs. You don’t answer. You’re not sure he wants one.

The car turns a corner. He doesn’t press. Instead, he reaches over slowly, brushes something from your lap—a thread, nothing.

“Next time,” he says quietly, “bring that quote again. We’ll rehearse it. Until it stops hurting."

You speak calmly, though your words carry an old weight—something you didn’t learn in books, something you were raised with. Something that shaped your spine long before Quebec or the PhD or Frank Patérno.

“Do not let your pride be so big as to believe your sins are greater than the forgiveness of the Creator.”

He turns toward you again, slower this time. You go on.

“David killed a man and still wrote psalms. Paul hunted Christians and still built churches and wrote a big part of the new testament. The only difference between Peter and Judas was that one let himself be forgiven.”

His eyes linger on your face, unreadable now.

“Even Cain,” you add, voice lower, “after killing his own brother, was marked for protection. What makes you think your past is too far gone?”

There is a silence between you. Not empty. Dense.

You don’t know if he’s angry or moved or quietly rearranging his whole view of you. His mouth parts just a little, as if to respond—then closes again.

When he finally speaks, his voice has changed. Softer. Like velvet sheathing something sharper.

“You weren’t sent here,” he says slowly. “You were placed.”

You look over, confused. “What?”

“To test me,” he says, almost to himself. “To remind me.”

He lifts a hand, brushing your wrist where your sleeve has fallen. Not possessive, not lewd—just... reverent. And strange. As if you’re a relic. As if you’re holy and he’s trying not to blaspheme.

You want to move. You don’t. You don’t want to want to stay.

Then, in the hush between the last streetlamp and the curve of his mouth:

“Next time,” he murmurs, “don’t wear black. You should be in white.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------

You lean back in the chair, fingers digging into the armrests. White. You haven’t worn white in years. It stains too easily. It clings to the body. It’s too visible.

You rise abruptly and head to the adjacent study room—the one he gifted you. The one that used to be someone else’s.

You put on the radio. A Bach partita plays. You flip open your notebook and try to focus on your research. Irregular labor laws. Case studies. The unpaid sick leave of single mothers. The undocumented cleaners in high-tourism districts. Anything.

But your pen stills halfway through a line. You stare at the paper.

And then you write:

"The question is not whether the system fails the invisible. The question is whether it ever intended to see them in the first place."

You sit back. That line—yes. That’s something.

"The system is not broken, it was made to work this way."

And still, you feel his hand brushing your sleeve. Hear the weight in his voice. Don’t wear black.

You turn off the radio. You go to bed.

You do not sleep.

The next day there is a box outside the door room, and another dress, now pure white, a bit longer, more flowy, unlike the ones before, this does not look like it would belong to the arm candy of a respectable man.

If you must look untouchable, at least let me be the one who touched you first. —F.P.

You try it on.

Makes you look like a Saint, which you are not.

But Frank does not think like that.

Going into yearning old man territory with deep religious and biblical imagery! Did you like this chapter?

[akaritakai]

WISC

I was fourteen when they cracked me open like a book, thumbed through my pages, and said, Well, she talks well enough. She must be fine.

They were looking for ghosts— but not the kind that wear different names in one’s mind, not the kind that steal the pen mid-sentence, or leave the stove on, or make the teacher say, Weren’t you listening?

They did not find the girl who blinked into the chair halfway through the test, who loved the sound of long words because long words felt like wings. They found a flat affect and wrote it down, then watched it brighten, and crossed me off the list.

They noted I was affable. Of course I was. I had been taught that kindness buys you safety— that a smile is the last thing they’ll strike, that doing well might be enough to keep the yelling away, the claws, the rooms full of hissing fur and silence.

I wanted to retake the parts I messed up. They laughed. Said, No do-overs here. But the part of me who cared was gone by then, and the part of me who watched it happen could only nod.

What they missed was— I had tried to be perfect, not because I wanted praise, but because I wanted to be real. I thought if the numbers were high enough, someone would stay.

They saw the 139 verbal score and smiled, like it was good news— like that was a gift— as if the 112 full-scale score wasn't my tombstone. As if high average could hold the girl who said I’m a girl at three, and was told no, who was punished when her mind broke open in vivid color, who begged to be held in a world that only offered reports.

Even now, with autism curled like a cat in my lap, with ADHD flickering through every hour, with DID scribbled like names on the backs of all my thoughts, I read that report like scripture.

And somewhere inside, a little voice still asks— please—can I try again?

[acidinduceddaydreams]

One true love?

Yang Jeongin x reader

Synopsis: He fell first she fell harder type of thing except she allows herself to get in the way of love.

Warning: Abandonment, religious themes

A/n: hiii, I hope you like this🫣. Not very happy with how this turned out. Not sure what to think?

Father Jeongin was a man of quiet resolve, his eyes often lost in the flickering candlelight that danced upon the chapel walls. His hands, rough and calloused from a lifetime of devotion, gently turned the pages of the ancient text before him, the whispers of its parchment echoing through the stillness. The silver crucifix around his neck glinted in the soft glow, a symbol of his unwavering faith. His days were filled with the rhythmic chant of prayers, the gentle confessions of his parishioners, and the comforting embrace of solitude. Yet, in the quiet corners of his heart, a restlessness grew.

Sister Y/N, with her eyes as deep as the night sky and a smile that could warm the coldest of souls, had unknowingly captured his attention. Her dedication to her vows was inspiring, but it was the way she moved through the world that truly drew him in—like a dancer in silent grace, her every step a prayer. Her laughter was the sweetest hymn that filled the hallowed halls of the convent, and her kindness, a gentle balm to the weary. Yet she remained aloof, retreating into the shadows when his gaze lingered too long.

The priest wrestled with his burgeoning feelings, seeking counsel in the scriptures and the quiet whispers of the divine. He knew his love was forbidden, a flame that threatened to consume the very fabric of his existence. Still, he could not deny the warmth that spread through him when she was near, nor the ache that grew in his chest when she was gone.

One evening, as the last light of day seeped through the stained glass windows, casting a kaleidoscope of colors upon the stone floor, he decided to confront his emotions. He approached Sister Y/N with trembling hands, his voice barely above a whisper. "Sister," he began, "I must confess to you something that has been weighing heavily upon my soul."

Her eyes, usually a tranquil sea of understanding, searched his face with a hint of concern. "Father Jeongin, what is it?" she asked, her gentle tone a stark contrast to the turmoil he felt within.

He took a deep breath, his words heavy with emotion. "Sister, I... I find myself drawn to you in a way that is not of God's will. I want us to leave this place, to live a life together beyond these walls." The words hung in the air, thick with the weight of his desire.

Sister Y/N's expression froze, her hands clutching the edges of her habit as if to hold herself together. She stepped back, her eyes wide with shock. "Father," she managed to say, her voice trembling, "you know this cannot be."

Father Jeongin's heart sank, but he pressed on, his voice filled with a desperation he had never before allowed to surface. "I know it's against our vows, but I believe that God understands the depth of human emotion. Our love could be a testament to his grace, a beacon in the dark."

“We gave our lives to God. Don’t you think He would want us to be happy?” His words like daggers echo within her.

“That’s not the vows we took and you know it. As soon as we leave religious life that’s a mask come off and you’ll see me. The real me and from that point on you won’t be able to run back.”

“I’d never run from you.” And maybe for the first time she believed it.

Sister Y/N closed her eyes, her face a mask of inner conflict. When she opened them again, they shone with unshed tears. "Father," she said softly, "you are a good man, and I cherish your friendship. But our paths are set by divine will, not by the whims of our hearts. We are devoted to serving others, not to ourselves."

Ignoring her words, driven by a force greater than his fear of divine retribution, Father Jeongin leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was tentative at first, seeking permission, but when she didn't pull away, it grew bolder, filled with the passion he had long suppressed. Sister Y/N's eyes fluttered shut, and for a moment, she yielded to the warmth of his touch, her body responding to a feeling she had never allowed herself to experience.

Her heart raced as his arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer. The scent of incense and candle wax mingled with the faint floral scent of her soap, creating a heady aroma that seemed to intoxicate him further. The world around them faded into the background, leaving only the beating of their hearts and the gentle sound of their breaths mingling in the quiet sanctity of the chapel.

As the kiss deepened, Sister Y/N felt the walls of her resolve begin to crumble. The warmth of his embrace was unlike anything she had ever felt before, and the tenderness in his touch seemed to reach into the very core of her being. For a fleeting moment, she allowed herself to consider the possibility of a life beyond the confines of the convent, a life where she could be loved and love in return.

When they finally parted, she looked up at him, her eyes swimming with conflicted emotions. "Father," she murmured, "I... I need time to pray on this." Her voice was soft, almost inaudible, but the tremor in it spoke volumes.

Father Jeongin nodded, understanding the gravity of her words. He released her gently, his hands lingering on her arms for a moment longer than necessary. "I will await your decision," he said, hope and longing in his eyes. "But know that I will be here for you, regardless of what you choose."

Days turned into weeks, and the tension grew palpable between them. Sister Y/N found solace in her prayers, seeking guidance from the very deity that had seemingly led her to this impossible crossroads. Her dreams were filled with the warmth of Father Jeongin's embrace, yet her waking moments were haunted by the fear of eternal damnation. Her vows were not merely words spoken in haste; they were the very essence of her identity, the foundation upon which she had built her life.

One evening, as the moon cast a silvery glow through the chapel windows, she found her resolve crumbling. The longing in Father Jeongin's eyes mirrored her own, and she knew she could no longer deny the truth of her heart. With trembling hands, she penned a note, her heart aching with every stroke of the quill. "Father," it read, "I have wrestled with my soul, and though it brings me great pain, I must admit that I feel the same. Let us leave together, and may God forgive us for choosing the path of love."

The following dawn, they met in the deserted garden, their hearts pounding in unison like the wings of a single dove. The dew-kissed petals of the roses seemed to whisper their secrets to the wind as they held each other tightly, the weight of their decision a tangible presence between them. Sister Y/N had packed a small bag with her few possessions, her habit folded neatly inside—a symbol of the life she was leaving behind.

Father Jeongin's eyes searched hers, seeking reassurance in the depths of her soul. He gently brushed a strand of hair from her face, his thumb lingering on her cheek. "Are you certain this is what you want?" he asked, his voice a soft caress in the early morning air.

Sister Y/N nodded, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "I am," she whispered. "Our hearts may lead us astray, but they also guide us to truths we dare not ignore."

With a shared nod, they slipped away from the convent, the cobblestone path echoing with the hollowness of their footsteps. The outside world was a whirlwind of color and sound, so starkly different from the muted tones of their cloistered existence. They found refuge in a small cottage on the outskirts of town, a place where they could live out their days in peace, free from the judgment of their former lives.

The months that followed were a whirlwind of emotion. They reveled in the simplicity of their shared existence—cooking meals, tending to the garden, and exploring the depths of their love. Yet, the shadows of their past clung to them, a silent reminder of the vows they had left behind. Sister Y/N, now just Y/N, often found herself lost in thought, her eyes drifting to the horizon as if searching for the comfort of the familiar steeples that had once been her home.

One morning, Father Jeongin awoke to an empty bed, the sheets still warm from her touch. Panic surged through him as he called her name, his voice echoing through the cottage. But she was gone, leaving only a single page on the nightstand, bathed in the soft light of dawn. The note, her handwriting as delicate as a spider's web, brought him to his knees.

"Father," it began, the word now a stark reminder of the life she had left behind. "I cannot bear the weight of our love any longer. I have prayed, and I have wept, but the answer is clear. I must return to the convent. Forgive me for the pain I have caused you, and for the vows I could not keep." The paper trembled in his hand, the ink blurring as his eyes filled with tears.

He read the note over and over, willing the words to change, but they remained steadfast, as final as the sunrise that painted the room in shades of gold. His heart felt as if it had been ripped from his chest, leaving a hollow ache that no prayer could fill. She was gone, and with her, the brief illusion of a life together.

[icelynia]

Some tips to actually read the Bible!

If you’re like me and struggle with reading your Bible, here are some tips! Hopefully ADHD/Neurodivergent friendly ones.

Get a journal/study Bible- I cannot say how much this has helped me! Instead of having a separate notebook I need to take with me/open on my phone, I can just write right in it! Highly recommend.

Don’t judge versions- Now some versions are more accurate and overall better, that’s just the truth, but that doesn’t mean that the rest don’t have their places. The Message might absolutely suck for any hardcore Bible study, but it’s great for casual reading and beginners. If a version is boring you, difficult to understand, or just too familiar, don’t be afraid to switch it up! You can easily try out new versions digitally before committing to buying a physical copy of it!

Don’t be afraid to markup your Bible- I know that some feel like it is sacrilegious to write and highlight in a Bible, but it isn’t. Don’t go burning and defacing Bibles of course, but writing notes and highlighting to help further your Bible study are fine! Get different colored writing utensils, put tabs for each book, even doodle in the margins!

Studying the Bible should be fun, not stressful- If you need to put on music, sit in the bathtub, or put a sticker on the first page of every book you’ve finished, go ahead! This kind of goes along with the last point, but even if it’s not a conventional way to read the Bible, go wild (within reason)! If you need an audiobook version go ahead! If you voice act everyone, that’s great. What’s important is that you are consuming God’s word and grasping the message inside of it. Don’t go too overboard and let your method become a distraction though!

Get a children’s Bible- I was recently going through some bookshelves at home and found my old Veggietales Children’s Bible. I flipped through it and it grabbed my attention right away! Children’s Bibles usually have inserted points that are on a more basic level than “adult Bibles”. That’s fine! Some of us need that simplicity, especially if we are neurodivergent. The Veggietales Bible I have also has comics based on the movies which while sometimes weird, were a nice brain break from the sometimes overwhelming and long passages of scripture. It might seem silly/awkward at first, but finding a good children’s Bible can open up a whole new world in your Bible Study!

You don’t need a plan- It can be overwhelming to try those “Read the whole Bible in a year!” plans, so try something different. Maybe read through the minor prophets, read just Ester, or 5 Proverbs! Any amount is good, since it means you got into the Word! Maybe one day you’ll just open to a random passage and read that! You never know where you’ll end up and I’ve had some great moments just with doing that.

Join a Bible Study-Going through Scripture with someone else can be a game changer! From sharing different opinions on passages, holding each other accountable, to sharing prayer requests, there is nothing better than having at least one buddy to fellowship in the Lord with!

Play Bible Games-This can go along with the last one, but play Bible games! Here are a few of my favorites:

1. Sword Drills- This is a competition based on finding passages fast. It starts with someone (usually a leader, but can be anyone within the group) yelling, “Swords Up!” and then everyone lifts their Bibles in the air. If it is feasible, make sure everyone has the same copy of the Bible. If not, only rules are that the Bible has to be physical and no bookmarking sections to help you get to a passage faster. The same person that yelled “Swords Up!” will now say a passage (Eg: John 3:15) and the participants will say it back. They will all start looking for it when the person says “Go!” . The first person to get to the passage and read it allowed wins! This game helps with memorizing the books of the Bible, their order, and helps expose people to passages they might not read otherwise.

2. Bible Quizzing- This one is all about memorizing facts, passages, and trivia about the Bible. Now there are actual tournaments and Bible Quizzing championships, but you don’t need to do anything like that. Just get a few friends, task one with coming up with questions, and then compete to see who gets the most right! This could involve Jeopardy, multiple choice, and even a written portion. I’ve done both casual and actual tournaments and I’d recommend both! Both are fun and get people to learn the Bible, though the actual competitions can be an idol to some people.

Find Christian Online Influencers- Now, this one could lead you astray, but hear me out. Finding entertainment from Christian sources is leagues better than from some random person who is probably an atheist, woke, and believes in evolution. Now, I’m not saying “Don’t engage with and watch content from non Christian people!” what I am saying is to try and get some more Christians in there. My favorite Christian YouTube Channels are Red Pen Logic, Dude Perfect, JStu, Matthias, and Sean McDowell. Not all of these are content about Christianity, but they are all Christian YouTubers. The ones about Christianity are RPL and Sean McDowell. JStu member Justin does have a podcast called the Soul Mine Podcast that he runs with his father all about being a Christian boy/man in our modern society. Everyone (even girls) are allowed and encouraged to listen to it. The point with this one is that surrounding yourself with entertainment that won’t lead you astray is important and that these YouTubers are a great place to start.

Also if you are a Christian theatre nerd, check out Sight and Sound Theatres! I cannot recommend them enough. They do original musicals based on people from the Bible and I’d say are even better quality than Broadway. They are currently doing Daniel (1st run!) in Lancaster, PA and Queen Esther in Branson, MO. Enough people don’t know about them for how good their shows are! They have a 180° stage, live animal actors, and very impressive both practical and digital effects! Their sets also move and are very intricate and impressive.

This was all I could think of at the moment! Feel free to reblog/comment some more tips that have worked for you.

God bless!❤️✝️

[recoveryregression]

Engaging with religion when you're a regressor

Religion can be a tricky topic for a lot of regressors due to trauma and unpleasant experiences in the past. This post will talk about possible ways to engage with religion when regressing.

As a disclaimer I am someone who was raised Catholic although now we have alters who's beliefs span over Christianity, Wicca and Buddhism. We tried to make this post as inclusive as possible, but if I made any mistakes please let us know. Additionally, if you have any suggestions for any of the points in this post feel free to add them!

Advantages to engaging with religion when you are regressed

Recovering from religious trauma and engaging with religion is a hard topic to tackle, but I have found it personally healing, especially for younger parts who hold religious beliefs.

It can help with acceptance and understanding that what happened to you is not right, even if the people who hurt you used religion as a justification.

Reclaiming something that has been used to hurt you is a personal choice and it is scary, but in my opinion it can be worth it.

Ways you can engage with religion while regressed:

Coloring sheets and activity pages- this is a simple and effective way of learning and engaging with your religion. Usually going to Google and typing '[religion] activity pages for kids' will give you results- If you need help finding some, I am more than willing to help.

Listening to stories- This can be slightly harder to do for some religions that don't have a scripture to follow, but for other religions this is a very easy and fun thing to do. Just go to youtube or google and type in '[religion] stories for kids'. They will often have them in a child friendly format and can be fun to listen to in the background. Another method would be to use an actual kids book of stories from your religion.

Learn and/or practice the language that may be tied with your religion- I know some religions require people to be able to speak a specific language and others may be easier to understand if you have knowledge about the language. Although one day I plan on making a bigger post on language learning as a regressor, looking at kids videos and songs in your language can help.

Engage with and/or learn about the culture associated with your religion- Of course this is different for every religion and subsets of the religion as to how you could learn about them and engage with them, but I find that engaging and participating is better than not doing anything at all.

Celebrate holidays and events your religion has- This can be hard if holidays are a difficult topic for you, it can be even harder if you can't openly celebrate your religion for any reason. If you can openly celebrate and participate with your holidays, make them unforgettable in the best way you can. If you can't openly celebrate make them unforgettable and special in your own way. Remember that celebrating is a personal thing, so don't worry if you can't focus.

Prayer- Prayer is a great way to engage with religion. There's a lot of different prayers you can learn and say. I know in Christianity there's prayer books specifically for kids, so that learning what to say is easy.

Tips for engaging with religion while regressed

Don't push yourself- If you have religious trauma there may be a limit to how much of your religion you can engage with before it becomes too much for you. Listen to your body and mind and know when to take a break.

Be safe- Linking to the previous point, religion can be an amazing thing, but it can also be harmful for some. Know your signs and the beliefs of those around you so that you know it's safe to engage with your religion.

Have fun- I know for us as a child religion was never about having fun or enjoying yourself, know that this isn't true and that you are allowed to have fun and enjoy yourself!

[notofthisworldgirly]

Journaling prompts as a Christian + general!!

~ sometimes when I dk how to spend time with God and don’t really want to keep with Bible study I do journaling !!

Some things to journal for Christians ————

—— Gratitude

——— THIS is so important! Not only does it make God happy but it helps when you feel envy and stuff! 🫶🏽

- times God has spoken/ answered your prayers

—— when you stop to realize these things you will notice its more often than you perceive!

- praise to The Lord

—— He deserves it 🎀

- lies you believe about yourself + scripture to cancel it

——— this is also a great method for mirror scripture! This will help you to fight any lies the enemy tried to make you believe!

- favorite scripture!

——— sometimes i talk to God or my Bible AI for scripture! I hear a lot of things that I can relate to so Its nice to have it where you can see !

—your testimony

——for future reference/ just for yourself!!

——Random letters to God

THISSS!!! I have kept a journal since I started my journey with God and to go back and see your progress>> and active transformation by the Holy Spirit!! Also journal your progress for anything! New hobby? Write about your experience! Trying something new? Write about it!!

_____________________________________

More general things to journal

- Words

— i do this all the time. I have a word journal of pretty or special or fancy words. This is especially good to reference if you like to write like myself!

— Personality traits that you have

—— I do this to get to know myself + thank God for my uniqueness and diversity!!

- what you adore most about your look

—— this helped me to overcome my insecurities! I like a lot more of myself than what I used to 🎀

- recipes

—— there are SO many recipes on Pinterest and probably on here as well that are easy to make! One of my favs is cookie dough

- sticker page!!

—— you can make stickers with parchment paper, tape, and a photo!! A page for pretty stickers sounds lovely

- Colors and things and what they remind you of !

—— ex: green reminds me of lilypads and cheese reminds me of one of my friends

- if you were a xxxx what would you be?

- lyrics or songs that you relate to on a different level

I just typed these out i didn’t have a set list … thus i probably have more that I will add!

I hope you take some into consideration !!

Updates in orange!

Much love and God bless you!

- A.lizz

*not proofread*

- baby names!!!!

—— for future reference or for fun!!!

——swatches!

Lip prints, highlighters, makeup, everything and anything!!

——prayer for your future lover/ current lover!!

—— inspired by dear soulmate and other things

Oh and you can write love letters. To anyone really, God, future people, sounds fun!!

[genesis-sabre]

Xenoblade 4 hint from Monolith Soft Recruitment page?

So Monolith Soft announced their RPG recruitment for a while back, and I'm surprised NOBODY has brought this up because I feel this RPG recruitment by Takahashi might give a hint about the project he's actually working on, and especially about the future of the Xenoblade series.

As you can see from the picture, there's a background with a simple gradient color. At first glance, it might not mean anything, right? BUT when you notice the colors of the gradient, they are strikingly similar to the Trinity Processor's color-coding. There's red (Ontos), green (Pneuma), and dark purple (Logos). There's also a hint of dark blue, but I'll elaborate on that later.

First, let’s start with the striking red. The red gradient bears a strong resemblance to Ontos’s core! The palette and gradient feel nearly identical, featuring that distinctive scarlet red with an orange-ish glow.

Next, we have the green, which closely matches Pneuma’s core. The shade leans toward a vibrant emerald green, making the similarity hard to ignore.

Finally, there’s Logos. This one is a bit trickier to spot because the purple is very dark, blending into the dark background and almost camouflaging itself. However, upon closer inspection, the hue is undeniably close to a deep purple, resembling Logos’s core.

Based on this picture, we can speculate that the "RPG" game Takahashi is developing might be Xenoblade 4. Could it focus on the Trinity Processor? It seems plausible, especially considering Takahashi’s comment in the XB3 artbook ~Aionios Moment~, where he mentioned that "he couldn't explain why Malos is in N's sword yet."

Among the Trinity Processor members in the Xenoblade trilogy, Logos is the only one who hasn’t had a game centered around him. Even Xenoblade 3 leaned heavily on Ontos and Pneuma’s stories.

There's also interesting color in the picture that you can see below, there's tiny hint of blue light

I wonder what this could mean. It might not be anything, but let’s take a wild guess.

From Monolith Soft’s 25th Anniversary video and the pictures of their office shared on Twitter, it’s strange how prominently they placed KOS-MOS in the spotlight. Sure, it could just be an homage to their first games, like Xenosaga, but it’s odd that they include KOS-MOS only and not other IPs.

I’m not suggesting we’ll get a Xenosaga remake or Episode 4. Given how Bandai Namco operates these days, that feels like a pipe dream. Contrary to what the fandom thinks, I don’t buy into the theory that Nintendo will buy the IP or fund remakes. That’s not how Nintendo typically operates, especially in their current situation. Plus, Xenosaga has blatant religious references (it literally has actual Jesus as a character & character recites freakin' bible scripture) no way Nintendo would touch that (as evidenced by how some religious references were omitted in Xenoblade 2 localization).

Now, back to the topic. I speculate that this “blue” connection might tie into the blue light falling to Earth in the ending of Future Redeemed (FR). I have a strong feeling that in XB4, we might see a character reminiscent of KOS-MOS 2.0 (basically akin to Saber face in Fates series), Monolith Soft might introduce a female character with blue hair, robotic traits, or a story/personality that nods to KOS-MOS. Alternatively, it could involve remnants of KOS-MOS, like her core or programming, reimagined as a weapon, relic, or machine central to the XB4 story.

If the leaks about Monolith Soft’s new game codenamed ''Project Legacy'' are true, this idea might fit perfectly with the potential XB4 theme: exploring the “legacy” of Klaus and his world. While the Klaus saga might be over, parts of his legacy—like the Trinity Processor and Origin—are still around. Origin especially feels like a magnet for conflict, practically begging for villains to emerge. Someone definitely want to control it.

Reminder FR hinted at space faring humans still existing in Klaus’s world—there are space colonies out there. In the Xeno series, the existence of Earth (a.k.a. Lost Jerusalem) has always been incredibly significant. The FR radio scene essentially confirms that XB’s world is connected to Lost Jerusalem, and the fact that it alludes to space faring humans is pretty important.

“What could this mean?” The next game might delve into the importance of the Conduit (I doubt the Conduit/Zohar is completely gone), space faring humans (!!!), and the Saviorite—artificial humans mentioned in Xenoblade Chronicles 2 and FR (in Xenosaga, it's Realian). The Trinity Processor, Origin, and the mysterious blue light could all play major roles.

So many questions, but these things will definitely be highlights in the next game. I predict the villain might be from space—now that Earth is back, the humans in space might discover it sooner or later.

I’m also sure that Malos/Logos will play an important role! Logos is the only member of the Trinity Processor who hasn’t had his own game or a "human" partner to unlock his potential. The idea of seeing a Logos Ascended form a la Pneuma, possibly an alter ego for Logos/Malos and a Trinity Processor reunion? Gosh, it’s so exciting!  

Personally, I hope Xenoblade 4 is set thousands of years after the events of XB3. Frankly, I’d prefer that Mythra’s child doesn’t become the protagonist or even a relevant character, as it might undermine the message of XB3, IMO. Instead, they could establish Mythra’s child as a historical or influential figure—someone whose legacy or actions significantly impact the central conflict in XB4.

I think it would be more interesting if the protagonist of XB4 came from outer space rather than Earth. This could offer a fresh perspective on space faring human society, including their politics, culture, and way of life—something we know very little about. It would also be fascinating to see a protagonist experiencing cultural clashes or value conflicts with the people of Earth. Of course, Malos/Logos should play an important role, perhaps as the protagonist’s “Blade” or companion.

As for the protagonist's gender, I don't bother with it. If it’s a girl, I’d like her to be stoic—different from someone like Shion Xenosaga. Maybe she could be a researcher or an artificial human soldier. If it’s a boy, same with a girl but he's more mentally broken or menhera, to occurring joke that how Malos/Logos is always drawn to edgy, broken men in Japanese meme LOL.

I also want to see Pneuma as a potential antagonist or hostile entity. We’ve already seen other Trinity Processor members (Ontos-Alpha and Logos-Malos) become villain, but Pneuma has yet to take on an evil or antagonistic role. It would be intriguing to explore this side of her, especially since her philosophy and what she represents could make her the most cunning villain among her siblings—something akin to Miang from Xenogears.

Ultimately, I hope this game allows Takahashi to tell the story he’s been envisioning, maybe the ''imagined'' of Perfect Works Episode 6 or Xenosaga Episode 4. And hope we get chaos expy too!

Anyway, thanks for reading my ramblings! Please remember, this is just my analysis and speculation—none of it should be taken as fact. Regardless of what this project turns out to be, I’ll always be excited for Monolith Soft’s games!

[pray-like-nehemiah]

Introduction + Bible Study Doc

I just realized I never really introduced myself even though I shared something as important as my testimony. My name is Kayley. I'd say my favorite colors are red and purple. I love to read. In my free time, I like to write short stories. I would like to become a screenwriter (if it is God's will of course.) Anyway...

Lately, I've been working on making reading the bible a part of my daily routine, whether it was a few verses or a few chapters. About a week in to doing so, I found that I felt that simply reading wasn't enough. I felt like God was trying to tell me that I should be reading and studying it, especially with the videos that had started to show up on my fyp on suggested bible study methods. I looked into several different templates online and created one of my own that includes the SOAP method on the second page. I've had it fort about a week now and it is really helping me understand God's word better. I thought I'd share it with anyone else who may like to use it.

If there are any questions about it, don't hesitate to ask me.

[fromthepinnacle2thepit]

“ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙᴇᴀᴜᴛʏ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ꜱᴄᴀʀᴇᴅ ᴍᴇ” Cardinal Copia x Reader

Chapter 1: The First Day Of Light Was In Motion

The world has always been a dramatic mix of things. Good, bad, tolerable, and everything in between. Each day, there is suffering, yet there is also joy. There’s laughter and crying. And, there’s Jesus and Lucifer. Your unholy father, the being who had transformed your life and given it more meaning than you’d imagined possible. The abbey celebrated those, brought good and bad, and the roughest most brutally human parts of the world to light and celebrated it. They celebrated sin, they celebrated darkness, and they celebrated good too. Unlike the other typical churches of the world, they saw good in being human, and acting as such. They taught you to know that you need only draw power from yourself and that you need not beg any deity in order to complete your goals. That you can give yourself forgiveness. That as a human, a beautiful, flawed, human, you can thrive. You made your own kind of grace, much different from the one your unholy father had fallen from.

Speaking of a fall from grace, you stared at the gorgeous mix of glassy colors that depicted that exact thing. Lucifer, falling towards earth, away from the heavens above. The “glorious” light shone from the higher air as he plummeted like a beautiful burning comet towards the world which you and your siblings now thanked him for. The chapel was a safe place for you, you spent much time there, looking at the beautiful stained-glass windows. The collage of colors coming together was beautiful, you always were entranced by it, and you loved it. The abbey had become such a home to you, ever since you joined at a young age, you had flourished. Your past was now just a blur, obviously, you remembered it, but you knew you didn’t have to deal with that part of your life anymore. You were here, in the now. And you were very happy. You had made friends with the other Siblings of Sin, you were even sometimes friendly with the current Papa, Papa III.

You sat there for a while, drifting in your thoughts until a noise shook you out of them. It was the sound of a door opening, of quiet muttering, and footsteps coming down the aisle between the pews. You hadn't heard that voice before. It was new. You didn't recognize the footsteps either. You turned to see who the person was, and it was at that moment, a quiet wonder began to sprout in your mind. The person was a man you had never seen before. He was carrying a binder of papers, which was currently open as he hurriedly walked down the aisle towards the center of the room, the alter, the place where sermons were said by the higher-ups of the abbey. The man was dressed in a red cassock and a matching biretta was on his head, and he didn’t seem to notice you in the slighest. He sounded nervous, the way he was muttering, now approaching the alter. He seemed like he was reading from a scripture perhaps? Or maybe some kind of sermon? You watched as he now stood before the alter, placing the thick binder on it. His hands were twisting together nervously, leather gloves rubbing against each other. You noticed the face makeup and the chain on his front with the grucifix. 

Who is he?

You continued to watch as be flicked the binder until he reached a certain page, and he seemed satisfied with the one he landed on. His eyes scanned the page, as he murmured words under his breath. He had a nervous, awkward air around him. But that didn’t push away your interest-filled gaze. No, if anything it drew you in more. Along with the mystery of who he was. Suddenly, he cleared his throat. You snapped back out of your thoughts to look at him, thinking possibly he had noticed you. But he didn’t. He began to read. It was a sermon, one you had never heard before. You listened intently. You admired the way the light from the stain-glass fell on him from the windows, decorating him in a veil of color. You liked his voice. It was calm and clear and deep. Not like the nervous one you had heard not a minute ago. He continued on as you listened, interested by his words. He spoke of Lucifer, of sin, of how the church celebrates this, and why. You thought he described it quite well. After a few minutes, he seemed to be getting more into it. Stuttering from time to time, but that didn’t matter to you. You were curious. The air in the room was broken as the door to the chapel creaked open. Your head shot in the direction of the sound, annoyed that someone had interrupted your quiet moment, and your observation of this new man. 

“Sister!” called your friend, “Come quick!” 

Hearing the tone in your voice, you quickly rose from your seat and ran towards the door. As you went you noticed the man at the alter had stopped speaking, and was now stuttering something in confusion and surprise. You reached the door and your friend pulled you through. As you turned the corner you got a last glimpse of the man. You knew your place was among the unholy, but you were sure that holy was the only word that described how he looked in that light. Then, he was gone. You didn’t know why you felt this new interest for him, this new strange curiosity. He was interesting. But who was he? Your friend’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts, you now were able to process that she had rushed you along and you were now standing in a long hallway, and you were alone. 

“Y/n? Are you ok?” she asked. “Oh! Guess what?”

This was Ava, short for Avarice. She had been raised in the ministry. Her mom came here as a attempt to find a home and a safe place to raise her child, and she had found it. Ava was born here, and had been here for all your time here. She had first showed you around, comforting you, teaching you about life here and the beliefs. She had always been here for you when you needed it, but why did she have to be there when you were so curious as to who that new guy was?? 

“What is it?” you asked her.

“There’s a new Cardinal! He arrived just around noon. People are saying he’s just about the most awkward person they’ve met. So, what do you think of him?” she rushed her words out, all excitedly. 

“I haven’t met him yet, I didn’t even know we were getting a new cardinal. Have you met him?” you replied, very confused. Wait. Unless, oh. 

“You were in there with him when I came to get you, weren’t you? You didn’t talk to him at all?” she asked you. “Really?” 

“He didn’t even notice I was there. I had no idea that’s who he was. Oh for satan’s sake, why is that the first impression I had to make?” you said, now worried about whatever he would think of you. He probably thought you were creepy, or weird, or something like that. You tried to shake it from your mind. 

It was only another cardinal. It can’t be that important, can it? 

What you didn’t know, was that now the Cardinal was confused. He never got a good look at you. And now it was his turn to wonder who this new person was. He felt embarrassed he hadn’t noticed you. But who were you?

A/N: Hello! Thank you so much for reading this first chapter! I might change how they meet, but this works for now. I hope you guys liked it! If you have any suggestions or requests for headcanons or anything like that, my inbox is always open! I hope you’re having a good day! Remember to drink water and get some food. Thank you! 

Hail Satan 𖤐

[enzysbibleartdiary]

My art stye

Slight upddate my leo lioness butt forgot to explain what my art style is. I'm a manhwa artist, which means I create Korean-style comics and illustrations. My hobby involves both storytelling and illustration—I build entire worlds through my drawings and narratives. I usually start with a script or rough outline for my story, then sketch characters, refine the artwork, and add shading and coloring. It’s a mix of artistic skill and storytelling, so every panel has to be expressive and engaging. Some of my works explore action-packed adventures, while others delve into romance or fantasy. As a manwha artist, I have developed a strong ability to tell stories visually, which will be a huge advantage in illustrating my 200-page art Bible study. This artwork is highly expressive and dynamic, making it an engaging way to bring biblical concepts to life. My experience in sequential art allows me to structure the study visually, using illustrations to enhance understanding. I can depict historical settings, emotions, and symbolism with detailed compositions that make the scriptures more immersive. Since it is known for its ability to convey emotion and action effectively, I can craft images that connect with readers on a deeper level. Additionally, my gouache skills will ensure high-quality illustrations that can be easily adapted. Whether it’s character-driven storytelling, scenic depictions, or abstract symbolic imagery, I’ll use my artistic knowledge to reinforce key teachings in a visually compelling way. i cant wait to share with you all my studies

[sanddusted-wisteria]

12/19: Ernest & Burgess

Also on AO3 | Index

“Ooooookay. So, uh… I guess the first meeting of Ernest’s E… Book Club can come to order…”

Ernest sighed, looking at the chairs that he had gathered an hour ago in the apartment building’s common room. All unoccupied, save one with a very sunny Burgess with a copy of the book of the month in his hands. “Alrighty! I’m excited!”

Ernest let out a non-committal “Uh-huh…” before running a hand through his hair. “…Sorry for the low turnout, Burgess… Glad you could make it, at least.”

“Of course! I’ve been getting dizzy with all the scripture I’ve been reading lately, and then I saw your flyers and figured it was the perfect opportunity to try something fresh!”

“Mm-hmm…” Ernest was fighting the urge for his face to scrunch up. “That…that’s cool! I, uh…didn’t exactly expect you to be into this kinda book…”

Burgess’s brow raised. “Oh, me neither! I didn’t read the blurb beforehand and I just dove in…and then a murder happened in chapter 2?!”

“Yeah…” Ernest looked down at the cover of his own copy. Dark Illumination… Did Burgess just pick it up because of the title??

“It gave me the heebie-jeebies…” Burgess continued, shuddering a little. “Wasn’t exactly expecting it to be so…graphic.”

“Ah-hah, yeah, the author’s kinda well-known for his super visceral descriptions and stuff like that… Maybe I should’ve put warnings on the flyer…or maybe picked something lighter for a first meeting…”

Burgess rapidly shook his head. “Oh, oh, but! I had to put down for a night…didn’t sleep so well…but then after that! The detective came in…and then I was hooked!”

He flipped open his book, revealing a whole host of little sticky notes in a wide array of colors, teeny tiny writing jotting down where he had found clues and breadcrumbs.

“All of a sudden, I felt like…I was the detective! Piecing together all the evidence, watching what all the witnesses said… It was thrilling!”

Ernest blinked, mouth agape a little. “R…right?! And—and…the author set up the twist so well! Like when the serial killer—”

“—wasn’t actually a serial killer at all and all the police force just wanted to see it like that?! YEAH! It-it-it made me wanna go back and just read everything again! Look, I even brought in a whole new color of sticky note when I found all the bits I missed!” Burgess flipped the open book towards Ernest, pointing at a few bright red sticky notes with bold and scribbly exclamation points on them.

“Huh, you caught more than me… You sure that was foreshadowing?”

“Ooooh, listen to this…!” Burgess giggled.

On and on they went, page after sticky-noted page, theorizing and tittering at all twists and turns in the mystery. The cookies in the box that Ernest had brought for refreshments slowly disappeared one by one as he and Burgess sat engrossed in the world of the story for far longer than he ever expected.

It was only after the evening started to fall that they had run out of things to say.

“Well!” Ernest said, clapping his book shut. “I guess we can call that a meeting!”

“This was fun!” said Burgess. “Thanks for having me! When’s the next one?”

“Well…I guess that depends… I dunno if anyone new’s gonna be interested if…this is all we get for meeting 1… Uh—that wasn’t meant to be a dig on you, sorry.”

Burgess brought a hand to his chin with a hum. “Do you think…I can recommend a book for next month? I can try to get a few more people to come, too!”

“That’d be cool if you could. Fair warning though, I dunno if people want to read scripture or Church stuff outside of services…”

“Oh, I wasn’t planning on it! I think I have some stuff on my shelves that I haven’t gotten to…I can get everyone copies!”

“Yeah, yeah! That…that’s great.” Ernest felt the smile creep up on his face and he knew that he meant it. Maybe there was some hope from Ernest’s Excellent Book Club after all.

[sefaradweb]

Joshua ibn Gaon, a decorated Hebrew Bible (MS. Kennicott 2)

🇪🇸 En el año 1306, Joshua ibn Gaon creó el MS. Kennicott 2, un códice hebreo decorado en Soria, España. Esta Biblia hebrea, compuesta de 613 Mitzvot y textos preliminares, incluye las escrituras de la Torá, Escritos y Profetas. Con un diseño geométrico y colorido, las páginas decoradas, como la folio 14r, resaltan con patrones de oro y adornos intrincados. El uso de imágenes vegetales y formas islámicas refleja la influencia cultural de la España medieval y el ambiente intercultural en que fue creado. Este manuscrito es considerado sagrado en el judaísmo, manteniendo vínculos religiosos y culturales a lo largo de los siglos. 💫

🇺🇸 In the year 1306, Joshua ibn Gaon created the MS. Kennicott 2, a decorated Hebrew codex in Soria, Spain. This Hebrew Bible, composed of 613 Mitzvot and preliminary texts, includes the scriptures of the Torah, Writings, and Prophets. With a geometric and colorful design, the decorated pages, such as folio 14r, stand out with gold patterns and intricate adornments. The use of vegetal images and Islamic forms reflects the cultural influence of medieval Spain and the intercultural environment in which it was created. This manuscript is considered sacred in Judaism, maintaining religious and cultural ties