#Goodness (Virtue) will go with you O wise | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

quinloki · 2 years ago

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Hellooooooooo!! Wassup? How have you been?

Could I request size kink, praise kink & after care for Shanks, Ace & Luffy?

Thanks! Take care and cya! <3

You know, I've been good. Had a rough day yesterday, slept in a little too late today, but I'mma try and get this ask done before my shift starts. (yay for WFH).

\o/ I love when people ask for Aftercare ♥ makes me all warm and fuzzy inside!

Without any pomp and circumstance for this, let's get into - I'mma go alphabetically (by first name), cause it places Luffy in a good spot to see the differences between him and his brother, and him and his mentor!

Portgas D. Ace:

Size Kink - Yes - Height-wise I think Ace is fairly neutral on the size thing. He's perfectly happy to be the little spoon, he's perfectly happy to the big spoon. I think he just likes to snuggle regardless. He enjoys wrapping his limbs around you and keeping you close, but he'd be equally as happy to be engulfed by someone (Okay, but now I want to write a Yamato x reader x Ace story, you have no idea.)

Praise Kink - Oh god you don't even know - For a guy who thinks the whole world hates him by virtue of his father, he wants you to know how perfectly he loves you. Ace is abysmal at dirty talk - especially when he gets focused on trying to talk dirty, but praise pours from his lips with a flow and grace you wouldn't know he had.

It all comes from his heart, and the only thing that can knock him out of his groove is if you start praising him. He won't stop, or run away from you, but you can see that freckled face turned bright red. He is likely to start railing you to keep you from talking though - or tickling you, or snuggling you harder, etc.

Aftercare - FUCK Yes - Ace's aftercare is a little lacking at first, but he's attentive to you, and listens well. I feel like Marco and Thatch both would've been making sure he knew that he needed to do it, and as time goes on he gets better and better. To Ace it's another way to show his love, and he gets to praise you more while you're talking through everything.

There's not a whole lot of people who can sit in the tub with you and keep the water warm quite the same way Ace can ^_^

Monkey D. Luffy:

Size Kink - I guess - Bigger, smaller, filled to the brim, or being stirred up inside, Luffy doesn't really have a preference. He'll do his best to fulfill your preferences, especially as your relationship grows, and if anyone can Adjust Their Size in a VARIETY of ways, it's Luffy-gods-damned-D-Monkey.

Interestingly, he prefers to be the big spoon, and given the nature of his body, he'll easily stretch and wrap around you to ensure he is.

Praise Kink - Oh god you don't even know - Oh god he didn't even know. Luffy's been praised before, but there's something different when you praise him. Especially when you're being intimate. It sends a shiver through him that he really likes, and so he'll praise you in return (getting better and better at it as time progresses), because if it makes him feel that good, it probably makes you feel that good too.

Careful with the praises though, if you praise him well while you're climaxing, you might end up climaxing a lot. If you have the stamina for it, then that's great, but Luffy's not known for his restraint.

Aftercare - Yes - Luffy is the middle of the slider for aftercare - he does it every time, and he does it well, but there's no much passion in it. He gets all the credit for seeing it through, and staying focused on it, he's not going to risk skipping it and having you end up in a bad way because of it. In a way, it's a testament to how much he does care about you, because he rarely does anything he doesn't want to, and it's pretty obvious aftercare isn't high on his list.

Still, he washes you, snuggles, massages and kisses you while talking about how things went every time. Then he probably does like a billion laps swinging around the ship because he's still a little ball of gremlin energy xD

Shanks:

Size Kink - Yes - Yes is pretty neutral for Shanks, since there's so little he's actively against. He's not against being the big or little spoon, though given his tendency to start things he's usually the one snuggling up to you in one way shape or form. He's definitely not shy about heights, either, but for some reason I feel like Shanks tends to stay within a certain range. I imagine it's almost subconscious though - if someone who was 12' + approached him, he'd be unlikely to say no, but he would be more likely to walk over to someone between like 5'-8' give or take a few inches.

Praise Kink - Oh god you don't even know - Beckmann does nothing but scold him, but he's good, isn't he baby? He's so good to you, doing all those little tender things you like, kissing you so sweetly even if are begging him to go faster that pleasure's still building, isn't it? Just be good, keep taking him so well, you're doing a great job, listen to those sounds, you're so close, aren't you?

Yeah, give or take, Shanks loves praise. He loves to praise you and watch you take pleasure in it just as much as if he were degrading you or teasing you. He loves it when you praise him, even if it's shattered by the pleasure he's giving you and nearly formless. It's okay, you're doing good, he knows exactly what you're trying to say. ♥

Aftercare - FUCK Yes - Shanks' Aftercare game is on point. He's had plenty of practice and a lot of it is almost second nature. He might not consciously fill the role of dom, but it doesn't stop him from taking care of his partner. I feel like he's almost always going to be the more experienced person in the relationship no matter what - he's just so much of a free spirit looking for a good time that I don't think anyone else could hope to keep up.

And he's not reckless or cruel, so he's good at the whole thing, from the chase, to the foreplay, to mutual pleasure, to the aftercare.

#kinky one piece head canon #monkey d. luffy #portgas d. ace #shanks #x reader #luffy x reader #ace x reader #shanks x reader

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colourful-void · 2 years ago

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I have finished Virtue's Last Reward!

what was that.

alright thoughts, here we go!

Im glad the time paradox thing was addressed, to my understanding it's like. the two branches diverge no matter what, but instead of living through the Good Branch, we're here on the Bad Branch. it's not going to cease to exist if Phi and Sigma and kyle??? can change the past, we're just fucked.

I'm with Tenmyouji! Junpei is never wrong I agree with him always. That is not the Akane Kurashiki i once knew. She is long gone. (spike chunsoft please bring her back)

This ending is so much more of a downer than the last one. I'm a little bummed out actually. Like I know Akane's telling me its up to me to save the world and everything but like. It's a narrative video game fuck the world man I want my little guys to be happy. 999 was weird as shit and has like. a higher active body body count (3 characters in game die no matter what as opposed to vlr's 0, but 7 billion if u count. the earth.), but despite all that? the ending feels hopeful. and then really weird because alice being there was such a jarring shift but like ignoring alice?? very good.

Actually, Akane talking to Kyle felt more like she was talking to me, Void, more than any other interaction in this entire game. "You want to know what happens between Dec24 and new years eve? then you have to go back. you have to do it." It's like a threat. What the hell akane. I do want to know. you're going to make me play another game but ur fucking right i do wanna know.

I'm glad that Tenmyouji and Quark will stay together. I love you Quark. I love you tenmyouji.

Seriously Phi explains jackshit.

Game thoughts as a whole! Uhh a little mixed? mixed! there's more I like than I dislike, but my thoughts are kind of. muddled a bit

A lot of things were frustrating (mainly puzzles) but a lot of things were really exciting (mainly story).

some puzzles were really exciting and fun (the whole archives, the lounge, the final cube puzzle, the pec door puzzles, the rec room) and some were really annoying (darts, most of the pantry, anything with a lot of math and cross referencing really). ((some of this is because im bad at puzzles!!)

Most of the story was really fun (All of Quark and Tenmyouji really, Luna's backstory, Dio's backstory i still hate him but its good, K's initial backstory just from his ending, going through the different endings and combinbing knowlege from em,) Some of it was really annoying (Sigma being gross to the girls, the weird radical 6 based contradictions, a significant portion of the ending though i dont feel fair making a full judgement on it because half of it still makes no sense to me and im not sure how much of this is sequel bait, the general sudden downer shift of it all)

menuing and q-o-l wise: i did get used to the sprites and menuing, though part of that comes from a shift to displaying it on my tv (the display darkens and softens it out a bit so its nicer,) and getting a controller (item tabbing!!!) though i never really ended up using the ingame notes past the first room. instead i took paper ntoes and my journal is a mess for it. i do have a very important complaint to raise re game display:

THE FUCKING MAP SECTIONS TAKE WAY TOO LONG!!!! unless you're already fastforwarding, it's really slow and there's no way to skip it! I know where the lounge is by now this is my 7th run but no i've gotta watch the little dot move all the way from the b floor warehouse and it's just really annoying. why was there not an option to just skip it. goddamn.

In review: im not sure what to think about vlr yet? It's definitely left me much more conflicted than 999, and I probably like 999 more overall. The twists in vlr were really fun and unexpected (favourites are the inital betrayal from alice turning into an ally, seeing k's mask come off, tenmyouji's picture of akane, the first time more stuff was added to the flowchart like that, seeing the moon and everything.) and there were a lot more of them, but i think the ones in 999 hit me harder, while there were fewer. (Learning akane was who died, learning ace's identity, when the dialouge switches to first person).

But i;ll be fair, I was probably always going to be biased towards 999? it's aesthetics are more my taste and while this sounds weird it's... a lot more down to earth than vlr? Vlr is really high concept and i feel like if I spend some time with it or look at stuff AROUND it i'll grow into it. but it's a lot more than i usually. swallow at once. im a weak man okay my brain can't handle it.

Vlr's ending much like it's beginning is gonna be one of those things i thing where at first im like 'fuck this' and then over time im going to really love it. I'm already liking it a lot more than I did like. 15 hours ago.

Will I play Zero Time Dilemma?

Well im curious where the story goes, but I'm also wondering like. Yes? Play it? or is like a 'play the first two and pretend zero time dilemma never happened' situation. my only interaction with the fandom of zero escape is whatever you all send me, and a meme of akane my brother once found.

Here's the part where I was gonna say that video games are expensive and I'd see based on ppl's reccomendations and pricing and how much I'd need to save whether and when i'd get it but like. i forgot steam summer sale is on and it's like. 9 dollars right now so I'll probably get it anyway.

still curious though, other people's opinions, please weigh in! do you think I'm being too harsh to vlr? is there something I haven't considered? do you need to play ZTD to really give VLR a fair shot? what are your favourite parts of vlr? did i completely fail to read something important in the game and its fucking my perception. should i go back and play those two endings that fuck over quark i avoided?

let me know!!

#void nonary play #vlr #zero escape #virtues last reward #zero escape fans thank u again for not bullying me out of the tag for yelling about it so much #vlr spoilers #999 spoilers

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libidomechanica · 1 year ago

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“Do not girlish”

A kimo sequence

Thus thou wait thy mother, to thy ‘Will’ more. “Oh Shah, who taught the ashes. Smelling flowers are twins.

Do not girlish but ne’er love the shepheard you be kindle into motley halves; pensive Sara!

To rob a living Childsworth Farm, past the horse the twist; and still to your name. But a sigh so sore?

Yea, if they to the ground. The true speed of light there, if, listened. And cause I caught him, and lilies.

And doth endite, and wonders and behind our sheep them if not I withered homely wife; for woe.

Spent, my silken net and griefe. Queen of camphire, which Enna yields. The invited to this defence.

Deere, Cupid offend. Queen Virtues the tracks. Ready to the must, let’s prove but forst by Nature born.

Glasses a good does rifely blest, o why that ever done force, they repair: that she even.

—So have a footprint of the rest. Love; behold, I grant mine eyes from wealth it is fresh, and evening.

Yield all ouercast. Provide and heard you been kind! Through the Fruit of these alone. Breaking his she said!

Force accomplished his own despised. Thy lips of sweet in springs from those ranckling doe companions?

And tell what I dreams, ready spent, tell them. Up like meteors and flutters, and the window-pane.

To take ourselves to me should learn to die. I would example to the Tree! Runs it need no light.

And she seede, their first foe in this subject lends not on your hidden pride, and you know dark woods in?

And she stainless steel the work boots. The Curse of Better luck and the marks the skies. And to be mowne.

When April, and nature keepe. The gray hair beneath the field, thought me fly, and so they claim his know?

At this upland disappear, and a few friend. Many waters carried Venus gloue, brake bowe, brave.

Till that every man haunt beloved is why I’m telling breast. At fifty should be contemned.

Hair sprent with scars, still cut straight so foul. His cheek where entertain roe, with whom we castling, lovely.

He on the care the poor tearm of the gods, whose crowned him, but which love I would I meet? Of Bether.

Dost thou hast brought uncalled the goatherd gods, that goeth down the world, to like, and thro’ the girl, her hair.

And I thy long, and flow. If this of your wise hands, now I will I not go gentlemen, and griefe.

And cried: and deep to clear spring of the work of Nature feare. Mind spills the river, without rest.

Whilst through Time’s stops under his own selfe to Sorrow! If thou wage mute! The valleys; meseems I fly.

Can it become extinguish, him to die. When in this, And where to such an ill resign my life!

Then tell that satisfied. In the peril keep my woes, there should fold of timely face deepening strange.

With free from you, and gave me to the moon. Sweet joy befall the crier cite this mask of my locks.

Soules are holding to fix it, of men who groan, while ourselves to feed in a flock to be crowes!

To teach and I force to eat. I ask’d them doe loue, ioue on his own sad name in out of her drop?

He went down to myself t’ excuse: sweet- William with lilies. There wit become as a bitter.

And now, and my bowre, then of her smile his right! Finer politic senses all my nature love!

A time when the smell, and her well as White, deepening valleys. You smile it wasn’t making no defence.

We’ll sculpture the bird into the plain true it in any way toward Damascus. Probes to stir Lo!

Both the cages forget: the unpermitted, who laugh o’er those huge despair. Not the Knot; and Queens.

Sweet-William with thee to the good ointments on the lilies faire, is built of bliss, and fro, and worse.

Than we see Lo! Yearning her beloved, O thou mighty titles tied, but before wilt renew’d.

Rose-cheek’d Laura, come, to chaste breast. The water’s brink she loved name no more desire to prevail.

With some coquettish descends: and subtle soul contraction! Turns out the spreads and they did admit.

His cheek. Gored mind? Of my hair from me. They ne’er thy pipe is like my love, the ragged you for all?

And subtle soule to his please. I used to see thy mouth with whom, how he crushed from thence, shall spices.

Yet were rude, mean a race,—because me of it. My five sense did fall, doest watch—if I be at rest.

The first louing strength seem stronger. Those loue, ioue on his knowledge the fair. Till inclosed eyes the stage.

Take us the city, ever did the merchant? Must makes of heauen to keepers of frankincense.

He thud of all? Thy beloved, and sport, and I own, and foul affliction’s valleys, she knew not.

As one the smile and mars they sound-like purple orchis variegate throne, nor give the time yet crown’d.

My friend; nor hast the sun, resort to cheerefull Colinet. Than going to go, nor long locks.

Old and sank, somersetshire my pensive Sara! From her smiles takest thou hast all these alone.

I would not bondage is, but those lecture makes me not to help Thou could not bad, but twenty-five?

Has seized her two suns from Praise. Thou could never more. Save when you again are he; they did admit.

Some scene designed, the voice of right and gracing. For the day grow mad with discover the power.

The high heavy heart that at then me! And real the dimness of herbs, both Silk, and cast hem out touch.

Who make it stood that lived in love a little oak-room which royal malady should Arthur do?

Yet hold me nourished now cleaved Myrtle, meet emblems they were. Tinkle homes of a greater thighs?

I would choose: would, like Pygmalion, found, so liefe: let me known, and sin! Peace, thoughts chase, brought: then one year.

By night. While below on the patient angel waiting thorow all it found, then smile did not, love.

River And I will never such powers; or man would a manger with beauteous mone. But day come.

Tyrant passed, and I looked back. Is much better seed conjoined lets in the upland distant refrain.

To leaue ye shephearde, Wrenock was he said, Princess. And bade him to The Sharp-witted ferry’s flown!

Canvases, and durst in default of a pomegranates of the floor with wailing before.

Both tormenting with scoure. Yield and unawakening, lovely dost him in the tedious talk.

And, old, which my love, disgrace. I’ll search of your life, and song of Empire, never and wounded.

But two days old, she needs with the year heart so sore, have beat this Cot, our Cot, and loued sheep, his hive.

—The grave. The volleying rather he giue but them please the fair one, or some scent that I had love thee.

Cometh leaping upon the Woodes that mighty title sparkle and twirls. His honour in mine.

So many a strong; their loosen’d manes, and nothing. As I’ll which be wont tenrage throne, nor are made.

On the Frick which, like name I am my beloved! As for Years into my tale. So have reare.

As the light empty, pure green bank hath made that fill within thy sweet voice o’ Pity here? Your mind.

Selves to make me Christ! Together thence at once against the fine sand tincture light on a heart leaps!

Her than the dusk hill-side. They turn up like some goes a long flat of wo painted scraps of the moon.

Each Knee doth new smell of frankincense. A godly ocean of stone shall subiect thing will report.

A shudder’d up and dim. As you have him with pride is cap and by the fallow builded for me!

The window and our strive, our tree bright betwixt my blood is but a smoother lip? Thus long the race.

My haruest wast bound, all shall I be at rest. I shall adore in a mansion have companions?

And, as whom wash’d from women? That thou doest watching Wisdom be shines, but seized, and set you a place.

To set a form them, but forsaken and sware designed, the congruity thee. To make me Christ!

Putting phantasies, transfer a weak, a softer mother, when we meet. Who, if not I: pitie there!

On vain the single with me; the tall, dried grassy barrows know?—What other things, and inspired.

His cheek growne slacker in the husbands fade the same. Nor tresspass’d I blind; nor all well satisfied.

When become extinguish, him from the sky yet reserving&never rais’d nor rewarded. From thee.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #134 texts #kimo sequence

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vonkarma2 · 2 years ago

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cirillo for the oc ask?

remember this ask? no? that’s because it’s from 3 years ago. let it never be said I don’t answer every ask, eventually. the draft has been in my Google docs for so long haunting me lmao so I decided to get it done

B A S I C S

full name: Cirillo an Avarre (formerly Cirillo Toscani)

gender: male (transgender)

sexuality: straight

pronouns: he/him

O T H E R S

family: right now, none, considering he was disowned a few years ago. Before then he had various shitty relatives in a very large family of nobility that like 1) ran a huge worldwide company 2) participated in national government. Not close at all personally, more like frustrated coworkers than a regular extended family. His parents weren’t actively bad but they were absent most of the time and both had absolutely no interest in raising children, only having had them in the first place because they basically kinda had to. Culture very focused on continuing the family legacy + keeping it strong, as well as competition both within the family and with other ones. Ofc he had his sister Laura, the two of them were very close as children and drifted apart a little as they got older and had very different interests, and then drifted apart hard when Cirillo got promoted and kept selling out to literally anyone who asked. So she got him disowned and also hates him now. At the start of the main story

birthplace: avarrecia, living in a like fancy mansion estate in the middle of the countryside. lots of rolling hills probably a vineyard. very obnoxious. to be fair though he didn’t much care for it he preferred the cities they would go visit (usually within the country, but sometimes internationally)

job: at the start of the story he’s an old timey telephone switchboard operator, but he quits that very early on to be Rocio’s assistant (it’s officially recognized + he gets paid directly by the government, wizards have people like this all the time). They need one not for like menial grunt work which they love doing but for like, basic communication and interaction with other people. Sometimes advanced interaction. They want to get around both the office politics and actual politics they’re stuck navigating). This was not a wise financial decision for him as the government collapsed like 2 months later so now after the story ends he is unemployed. He can’t even come crawling back to his family because they lost all their money in an unrelated but similarly dramatic incident

phobias: nothing in particular, unless this just means like general fears? he’s afraid of nebulously being a bad person (

guilty pleasures: anything that makes him feel joy at all is a guilty pleasure. he could feel guilty about anything. someone could be like ugh it’s so cloudy today and he’d be like fuck I can’t believe let them down 😔

M O R A L S

morality alignment?: lawful good

sins - lust/greed/gluttony/sloth/pride/envy/wrath

virtues - chastity/charity/diligence/humility/kindness/patience/justice

T H I S - O R - T H A T

introvert/extrovert: extrovert if he goes like, 4 hours without talking to someone he feels like he’s about to die

organized/disorganized: meticulously writes down important things so he doesn’t forget, but other than that is actually pretty disorganized, when he was younger he was used to other people cleaning up for him and so now that he’s older and that doesn’t apply anymore he just doesn’t care lol

close minded/open-minded: open-minded, he would be friends with you if you killed someone in front of him he is ok with most things or at least willing to forgive them. If you’re not a bad person and you’re just like weird or something then he wouldn’t care in the slightest

calm/anxious: anxious

disagreeable/agreeable: agreeable, he has never started a fight in his life. whenever someone argues with him his first instinct is to appease them by whatever means necessary and he has to actively consciously fight against that impulse

cautious/reckless: cautious, sometimes he tries to appear reckless but he’s basically always thinking things through as much as he can. that doesn’t mean he comes to the right conclusions though lol

patient/impatient: patient, but this one’s because he tries not to expect anything from anyone or like the situation in general I guess? he tries to always keep his expectations low, so he wouldn’t get mad waiting for anything

outspoken/reserved: for someone who talks a lot he is actually pretty reserved about personal information (unless he thinks the person he’s talking to needs to hear it, like so he can relate to them or something) and his own

leader/follower: you can probably guess by now lmao. He’s never made his own decisions in his entire life

empathetic/unempathetic: some of these questions are so obvious for the character in question I feel like I’m talking down to the audience answering them in like the most obvious way. empathetic what do you want from me

optimistic/pessimistic: weird mix of both, I’d say optimistic overall and believes that everything will turn out alright in the end in general, but does

traditional/modern: modern for sure, although in this world the concept of that is kind of different, especially since he moved to a different country where the culture and concept of modernity is very different from in his home country. but he likes modern fashion styles, modern technology, tries to get invested in progressive politics + like new societal ideas. he thinks everything in the world can and should be improved in some way. To be clear, he doesn’t blindly support every newly introduced idea obviously this is like. the general trend

hard-working/lazy: despite his best efforts he does not have much of a work ethic for things he is not interested in, but of course if it’s necessary or it literally anyone is there to potentially judge him he’ll do it, so he ends up being hardworking most of the time. but literally only because of peer pressure. and he’ll internally hate every second of whatever it is he’s doing. it’s kind of pathetic it’s because he grew up incredibly like catered to I guess. has few to no life skills. he’s working on it

#it’s a fun template shame I probably couldn’t find the original lol #my ocs #cirillo an avarre #I feel so bad I made him sound like such a loser in thjs and honestly he kind of IS but he has good qualities too #he gets cooler over time I swear #thanks for sending this sorry for the 3 years wait aha

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ongolecharles · 4 months ago

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DAILY SCRIPTURE READINGS (DSR) 📚 Group, Mon Sept 23rd, 2024 ... Monday of the Twenty-fifth Week in Ordinary Time, Year B/Memorial of Saint Pius of Pietrelcina, Priest

Reading 1

------‐----

Prv 3:27-34

Refuse no one the good on which he has a claim

when it is in your power to do it for him.

Say not to your neighbor, “Go, and come again,

tomorrow I will give,” when you can give at once.

Plot no evil against your neighbor,

against one who lives at peace with you.

Quarrel not with a man without cause,

with one who has done you no harm.

Envy not the lawless man

and choose none of his ways:

To the LORD the perverse one is an abomination,

but with the upright is his friendship.

The curse of the LORD is on the house of the wicked,

but the dwelling of the just he blesses;

When dealing with the arrogant, he is stern,

but to the humble he shows kindness.

Responsorial Psalm

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

Ps 15:2-3a, 3bc-4ab, 5

R. (1) The just one shall live on your holy mountain, O Lord.

He who walks blamelessly and does justice;

who thinks the truth in his heart

and slanders not with his tongue.

R. The just one shall live on your holy mountain, O Lord.

Who harms not his fellow man,

nor takes up a reproach against his neighbor;

By whom the reprobate is despised,

while he honors those who fear the LORD.

R. The just one shall live on your holy mountain, O Lord.

Who lends not his money at usury

and accepts no bribe against the innocent.

He who does these things

shall never be disturbed.

R. The just one shall live on your holy mountain, O Lord.

Alleluia

---------

Mt 5:16

R. Alleluia, alleluia.

Let your light shine before others,

that they may see your good deeds and glorify your heavenly Father.

R. Alleluia, alleluia.

Gospel

---‐------

Lk 8:16-18

Jesus said to the crowd:

“No one who lights a lamp conceals it with a vessel

or sets it under a bed;

rather, he places it on a lampstand

so that those who enter may see the light.

For there is nothing hidden that will not become visible,

and nothing secret that will not be known and come to light.

Take care, then, how you hear.

To anyone who has, more will be given,

and from the one who has not,

even what he seems to have will be taken away.”

***

FOCUS AND LITURGY OF THE WORD

1. THE LIGHT OF CHRIST: Everything we have done and all that we do in our lives will be revealed. The wicked mistakenly think that their evil deeds will go unnoticed. Jesus corrects this view: “For there is nothing hidden that will not become visible, and nothing secret that will not be known and come to light.” If our deeds are good, then we have no reason to fear. In fact, in our deeds and actions, we are called to be a light for the world. We are not the ultimate source of the light, for Jesus is the light that enlightens all men (John 1:9). At the same time when we walk in the light of Christ, we are called to share and communicate this light to others. Jesus also teaches that to those who have, more will be given. And so, when we receive Jesus and the Holy Spirit, when we immerse ourselves in divine wisdom, and when we let the light of Christ shine through us, even more will be given to us. Our knowledge of God will be even more profound; our love for God will be even deeper.

2. TWO WAYS OF LIFE ACCORDING TO PROVERBS: The First Reading is from the Book of Proverbs. The book is like a “treasury of wisdom for successful living, ... [that] aims at the formation of character by imparting values and encouraging virtues” (Ignatius Catholic Study Bible: Proverbs, 14). The beginning and foundation of wisdom is the fear of the Lord. “Since wisdom ultimately comes from God (2:6), one can hardly be called wise who fails to revere the Lord. Everyone is obliged to discern the lessons of life by use of reason and to conform to the order that God's wisdom has built into creation” (Ignatius Catholic Study Bible: Proverbs, 14). Proverbs sees that human beings follow one of two ways: the righteous follow the way of wisdom and life; the senseless follow the way of foolishness and death.

3. THE CALL TO WISDOM: Today’s First Reading (Proverbs 3:27-34) is taken from the first collection of Wisdom Discourses (Proverbs 1:8-9:18). The first chapters of Proverbs invite the reader to not consent to the enticements of sinners and to not walk with them or in their ways. Wisdom calls out in the streets of the city for men and women to listen to her words. If they receive her words, they will understand the fear of the Lord and find the knowledge of God. By heeding wisdom, they will understand righteousness and justice and follow a good path; they will be delivered from the way of evil. The one who listens to wisdom trusts in the Lord with all their heart, honors the Lord with their work, and does not despise the Lord’s discipline. Happy is the man who finds wisdom. Today’s First Reading tells us that the wise man is just: He gives to others their due and does not envy the wicked man who commits injustices. The reading also tells us that the wise man is humble and that they receive favor from God. The wise, the just, and the humble receive blessings from God, while the wicked bring down curses upon themselves.

CONVERSING WITH CHRIST: Lord Jesus, I am your disciple. Teach me to see all things from a divine perspective and to contemplate all things in the light of eternity. Help me to know what is lasting and of true value and to relativize what is passing and temporal.

LIVING THE WORD OF GOD: Am I listening, in my daily work, to the call of wisdom? Do I trust in the Lord with all my heart? Do I honor the Lord with my work? Do I despise the Lord’s discipline and testing? What can I do better?

***

SAINT OF THE DAY

Saint Pio of Pietrelcina

(May 25, 1887 – September 23, 1968)

Saint Pio of Pietrelcina’s Story

In one of the largest such ceremonies in history, Pope John Paul II canonized Padre Pio of Pietrelcina on June 16, 2002. It was the 45th canonization ceremony in Pope John Paul’s pontificate. More than 300,000 people braved blistering heat as they filled St. Peter’s Square and nearby streets. They heard the Holy Father praise the new saint for his prayer and charity. “This is the most concrete synthesis of Padre Pio’s teaching,” said the pope. He also stressed Padre Pio’s witness to the power of suffering. If accepted with love, the Holy Father stressed, such suffering can lead to “a privileged path of sanctity.”

Many people have turned to the Italian Capuchin Franciscan to intercede with God on their behalf; among them was the future Pope John Paul II. In 1962, when he was still an archbishop in Poland, he wrote to Padre Pio and asked him to pray for a Polish woman with throat cancer. Within two weeks, she had been cured of her life-threatening disease.

Born Francesco Forgione, Padre Pio grew up in a family of farmers in southern Italy. Twice his father worked in Jamaica, New York, to provide the family income.

At the age of 15, Francesco joined the Capuchins and took the name of Pio. He was ordained in 1910 and was drafted during World War I. After he was discovered to have tuberculosis, he was discharged. In 1917, he was assigned to the friary in San Giovanni Rotondo, 75 miles from the city of Bari on the Adriatic.

On September 20, 1918, as he was making his thanksgiving after Mass, Padre Pio had a vision of Jesus. When the vision ended, he had the stigmata in his hands, feet, and side.

Life became more complicated after that. Medical doctors, Church authorities, and curiosity seekers came to see Padre Pio. In 1924, and again in 1931, the authenticity of the stigmata was questioned; Padre Pio was not permitted to celebrate Mass publicly or to hear confessions. He did not complain of these decisions, which were soon reversed. However, he wrote no letters after 1924. His only other writing, a pamphlet on the agony of Jesus, was done before 1924.

Padre Pio rarely left the friary after he received the stigmata, but busloads of people soon began coming to see him. Each morning after a 5 a.m. Mass in a crowded church, he heard confessions until noon. He took a mid-morning break to bless the sick and all who came to see him. Every afternoon he also heard confessions. In time his confessional ministry would take 10 hours a day; penitents had to take a number so that the situation could be handled. Many of them have said that Padre Pio knew details of their lives that they had never mentioned.

Padre Pio saw Jesus in all the sick and suffering. At his urging, a fine hospital was built on nearby Mount Gargano. The idea arose in 1940; a committee began to collect money. Ground was broken in 1946. Building the hospital was a technical wonder because of the difficulty of getting water there and of hauling up the building supplies. This “House for the Alleviation of Suffering” has 350 beds.

A number of people have reported cures they believe were received through the intercession of Padre Pio. Those who assisted at his Masses came away edified; several curiosity seekers were deeply moved. Like Saint Francis, Padre Pio sometimes had his habit torn or cut by souvenir hunters.

One of Padre Pio’s sufferings was that unscrupulous people several times circulated prophecies that they claimed originated from him. He never made prophecies about world events and never gave an opinion on matters that he felt belonged to Church authorities to decide. He died on September 23, 1968, and was beatified in 1999.

Reflection

--------‐---

Referring to that day’s Gospel (Matthew 11:25-30) at Padre Pio’s canonization Mass in 2002, Saint John Paul II said: “The Gospel image of ‘yoke’ evokes the many trials that the humble Capuchin of San Giovanni Rotondo endured. Today we contemplate in him how sweet is the ‘yoke’ of Christ and indeed how light the burdens are whenever someone carries these with faithful love. The life and mission of Padre Pio testify that difficulties and sorrows, if accepted with love, transform themselves into a privileged journey of holiness, which opens the person toward a greater good, known only to the Lord.”

***

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basicsofislam · 1 year ago

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ISLAM 101: ALMS AND CHARITY: VIRTUES OF ZAKAT: Part 3

ZAKAT (THE PRESCRIBED PURIFYING ALMS)

The second important duty of servanthood is zakat. God’s Messenger, who depicts prayer as Islam’s pillar or support, describes zakat as its bridge for zakat not only brings the social strata closer to each other and fills in the gaps between them and their members but also stops such gaps from forming.

Zakat means purity and growing. Since it purifies wealth and people’s attachment to it and causes both it and Muslims to grow in purity and sincerity, the Qur’an calls it zakat (or the prescribed alms):

(O Messenger,) take alms (prescribed or voluntary) out of their wealth so that you may cleanse them thereby and cause them to grow in purity and sincerity, and pray for them. Indeed your prayer is a source of comfort for them. God is All-Hearing, All-Knowing. (9:103)

Taking into account its very nature, zakat constitutes one of Islam’s five pillars. It is associated with prayer (salat) in 82 Qur’anic verses. God, the Exalted One, prescribed it in His Book (the Qur’an), His Messenger corroborated it by his sunnah, and the Muslim community by consensus upheld it. Ibn ‘Abbas reported that when the Prophet sent Mu’adh ibn Jabal to Yemen (as its governor), he said to him:

You are going to people who are People of the Book. Invite them to accept the shahada: that there is no deity but God and I am His Messenger. If they accept and affirm this, tell them that God, the Glorious One, has enjoined five prayers upon them during the day and night. If they accept that, tell them also that He has enjoined sadaqa (meaning zakat) upon their assets, which will be taken from the rich of the (Muslim) community and distributed to the poor. If they accept that, refrain from laying hands upon the best of their goods and fear the cry of the oppressed, for there is no barrier between God and it. (Bukhari, “Zakat,” 1:41; Muslim, “Iman,” 31.)

Many verses exhort Muslims to pay zakat and forbid hoarding wealth. For example:

The believers, both men, and women, they are guardians, confidants and helpers of one another. They enjoin and promote what is right and good and forbid and try to prevent evil. They establish the prayer in conformity with its conditions and pay the zakat (prescribed purifying alms) fully. They always obey God and His Messenger. Those are the distinguished ones whom God shall treat with mercy. Assuredly, God is the All-Honored with irresistible might, All-Wise. (9:71)

and:

Those who hoard gold and silver and do not spend it in God’s way (to exalt His cause and help the poor and needy: O Messenger,) give them the glad tidings of a painful chastisement. (9:34)

WHAT ARE THE BENEFITS OF ZAKAT FOR ITS RECIPIENT?

In addition to rescuing society from falling victim to poverty, zakat eliminates socially detrimental crimes like theft and robbery, as the common factor usually underlying these crimes is poverty in one way or another. Once the lack of faith, which deters from crime, is added to poverty, not much reason remains to prevent the perpetration of such crimes.

Through the promulgation of zakat, Islam seeks to extirpate, from the onset, social diseases like theft, by destroying their very foundation and preventing their establishment. By utilizing the privilege of performing zakat, the wealthy not only offer a righteous act of worship, but they also soothe the poor, providing them with financial relief and thus preventing them from taking up theft as a means of sustenance. In an interesting wise, the poor receive needed recognition in the community as people sought after by the rich to allow them to complete their obligations. This, in no way, should be conceived as freeloading, as this is something unthinkable for a healthy Muslim. Rather, zakat is financial help during a rainy day, in a sense, encouraging the recipient to take brand new steps. Condescending to freeloading off others, for a Muslim who possesses the power to make his own ends meet, is totally unacceptable in Islam, which praises work by holding it equal with worship. For a healthy Muslim, unemployment is only temporary, and zakat provides the much-needed spirit and catalyst during that transitional period until the recipient becomes a giver himself.

The Noble Prophet enumerates poverty that “makes one forget the Lord”39 among the seven things that must be avoided before their arrival. A person suffering in the throes of extreme poverty, along with many things, is bound to forget the purpose of creation. Such a ruinous thought must be avoided as it will only add to the person’s sufferings by causing additional anguish in the hereafter.

ZAKAT HELPS ACHIEVE WORKING POWER

Zakat is a source of power for the needy. In addition to providing the financially stricken poor with desperately needed capital, zakat also injects in them dynamic energy, instilling in them the confidence to provide for their own.

By hindering stockpiling, zakat bestows an intense vitality on the economy as well as ultimately providing matchless opportunities for the unemployed, winning them back to the community. Islam incessantly encourages individuals to be effervescently active, conversely condemning laziness and time-wasting.

Consequently, it is not difficult to imagine the enormity of the contributions to the overall economy brought by the person who is given such a great opportunity, as a result of the application of invaluable teaching.

The prevalently unfortunate state of young people in secular societies, who squander their time and precious potential in such places as pubs and casinos, reinforces the importance of zakat. A country whose non-contributing masses have been revivified through such a process whereby wealth is continuously cycled for the benefit of all will inevitably experience an economic revitalization.

ZAKAT PROMOTES EMPLOYMENT

Contrary to popular belief, zakat does not give rise to indolence; on the contrary, it encourages individuals to work. The Prophet of God strongly advised against being a “receiver,” underlining the immense value of giving: “The higher hand is better than the lower.” The lower hand is always receiver’s, regardless of who the giver is, even it be the government. However, if the government is acting as an intermediary in handing the poor what is acquired from the rich, this may be classified as an exemption from the reprimand of the above hadith. Islam strictly criticizes incessantly asking of others and fervently promotes self-acquired earnings by endowing it with multitudes of rewards, depending on the intentions of the person. The hadith additionally alludes to the vast rewards of the afterlife awaiting the almsgiver, and as expected, places him on a higher level in comparison with the receiver. It does not entirely condemn the receiver, of course, acknowledging the necessity of receiving alms when these are genuinely needed.

The Noble Messenger, for all intents and purposes, offers us the following advice, “Always be dignified. Evade the disgrace of begging either on the individual level or the national level through sincerely trying your best not to fall in such a state, and maintain your status of grace as a benefactor. Keep in mind that dependence on others is the life of anxiety.” This hadith also provides us a credo in international relations, giving us, individually or entirely, the crucial task of embracing a diligent attitude, hence delivering the Islamic world what it rightfully expects. Honor, dignity, and superiority always belong to God, His Messengers, and the believers. Therefore believers should not come under the control or authority of unbelievers, for this undermines their dignity and superiority.41 It has thus become evident that zakat vehemently encourages a self-liberation from dependence on others through the embracement of working as pre-eminent attitude.

ZAKAT AUGMENTS SELF-ESTEEM

The Qur’an, as stated, has unambiguously expounded the recipients of zakat, and in the process of searching and finding them, has strictly commanded the benefactor, individuals or the intermediary governments, to scrupulously avoid imparting any scorn. This renders the poor as an esteemed and sought-after part of society, as mentioned above.

It is imperative to locate and deliver zakat to those who are genuinely poor. The obligation of zakat is not one of the specified categories. In a case where a person misplaces zakat, wrongly assuming the recipient to fall under one of the categories, he is exempt from having to give again “correctly,” because of his sincere intention. However, the best must be done to avoid such a scenario. The Companions of the Noble Prophet had first criticized a person who had given his zakat first to a thief, then to an adulterer and then to a rich person; they later modified their opinions knowing/hoping that any zakat, earnestly given with good intention, without an aim for error, would act as a cure to their problems. This accentuates the importance of conducting proper research in locating those genuinely eligible for zakat to facilitate the correct utilization.

Zakat saves the poor from being thrown into total oblivion, turning them into revered people who are sought after. Ultimately, as zakat pervasively functions throughout the community, the magnificent days of Umar ibn Abdulaziz, where finding an eligible recipient of zakat was in itself a difficult task, will inevitably return. In this environment, the poor will not search for the rich; instead, the rich will desperately hunt for the poor to remove an enormous weight off their shoulders, thus fostering perennial gratitude towards the poor, who are essential to removing that load.

No doubt, the rich, immersed in a luxurious lifestyle, can otherwise quite easily become an object of grave envy for the poor as they battle daily for sustenance, overwhelmingly intensifying their feelings of abhorrence. When added to the disdainful demeanor of the rich, the abyss between rich and poor becomes insurmountably grave and culminates in an inveterate hatred for wealth, an attitude pervasive throughout many societies. The only way to overcome the abhorrence of the poor towards the rich lies in the performance of zakat; rich people’s conceiving of the poor as friends in need will alter the poor’s resentment changing negativity into gratitude over what has been granted to them by God through the donor and their appreciation

of the rich for administering their rescue. The rich, concurrently, will feel compassion towards those whom they have helped so that mutual feelings of brotherhood will swiftly spread throughout the entire community, purging every remnant of conflict and turmoil.

Human nurtures immense gratitude in the face of kindness. The Arabic proverb, “al-insan abid al-ihsan,” which can be translated into English as “Man is a slave of kindness,” is an expression of this profound truth. By giving zakat, the rich extinguish the flames of hate and envy burning in the heart of the poor, simultaneously cultivating the seeds of love and compassion—a scene that is impossible to witness wherever the rich refrain from assisting the poor. Zakat, in this aspect, prevents civil unrest and discord, for what perpetually lies at the root of much of today’s most critical socio-economic problems is material dissatisfaction, a hegemony wherein a certain few and their chronic desire for financial domination are pitted against the frustrations of many. In that way, zakat performs the inimitable role of “equalizer,” providing inherent stability and satisfaction for all sectors of society, thereby engendering a more peaceful coexistence than would otherwise be possible.

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elsyrel · 3 years ago

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Arcana headcanons: main 6 and what they value/need the most in a partner

I usually don’t do this kind of stuff, but I was in the mood for writing some headcanons, lol. I want to clarify that these are the virtues the main 6 would feel more drawn towards in a romantic partner, either in a conscious o subconscious way:

Asra - trust

Asra might have many secrets, but he will always mean well. He just needs his own space sometimes, a moment alone to be introspective and put his thoughts in order. Given his reserved and secretive nature, there should be a solid foundation of trust with his partner. He won't demand blind trust from the get-go, but he might feel stifled if he has to explain every single thing he does. His partner should be understanding of his need for space, respect each other’s independence, and show the same confidence that asra shows. The worst thing that could happen in the relationship is the appearance of jealousy, control and mistrust. Their partner must show some faith in him, without second guessing him at every turn. Asra will prove that he deserves that trust.

Nadia - honesty

Nadia's life has always been full of people holding back their words in her presence. Most of his subjects tell her only what they think she wants to hear, and the rest of the nobles are manipulative and anything but sincere. Nadia needs a partner who is honest, who says what they really think, and not what they think she wants to hear. Someone who is not afraid of speaking their mind, even at the risk of disagreeing. Sweetening the pill will only frustrate Nadia, and lies will not be taken lightly. Nadia seeks insight and advice, and she will never resent a wise opinion, even if it goes against her own views. Words can be sparse, but must be direct, honest and thoughtful. In exchange for the courage and sincerity of her partner, she will always listen respectfully and attentively to their words.

Julian - courage

It may not seem like it, but Julian lives in a constant state of fear. “What ifs” fly through his head at all hours, torturing him with all the possibilities of what could go wrong. That fear is what drives him to seek the "lesser evil", sacrificing himself continuously. Therefore, Julian needs a partner capable of being brave when he cannot. Someone willing to take some risks when necessary, capable to fight for worthwhile causes, someone who can slap some sense into his head. In other words: someone who doesnt feed is fears or let him indulge in his paranoia. That courage will awake julian’s admiration, and will encourage him to step up and be brave himself. Eventually, he will accept that he cannot control all events, and that sometimes you have to assume and face some risks.

Muriel - warmth

In Muriel's eyes, the world is a cold and cruel place. He believes that you cannot expect anything good from others, and the best thing to do is retreat to a dark corner. He has experienced few kind and altruistic gestures, and suffers from a great lack of affection. That's why he needs not just kindness... but warmth. Muriel needs a partner who professes genuine affection and compassion, someone who will show him that life doesn't bring just suffering. Even the smallest displays of closeness, intimacy, and love make a big difference to him. A gentle touch, a warm smile, an understanding look... if someone is capable to show him that warmth that he needs, Muriel will consider that person not just a romantic partner, but a home.

Portia - complicity

Portia has a playful nature, so it’s just normal that she would feel attracted to a participative companion. She loves discovering new things, exploring and having fun, and what she lacks the most is someone to accompany her. Someone who is willing to get a little messy, a companion with the same sense of curiosity, someone fearless. A partner in crime. But more importantly... she needs someone who “gets her”. She needs a friend, someone who gets her jokes, with a similar sense of humor, with the same playful nature. A wink, a knowing smile, a nudge in the side, a little teasing... those things will make her melt. If she finds a collaborative companion, she will get more and more creative, assuring a life where you never get bored.

Lucio - patience

Since he loves to party, it may seem like he would feel attracted to partygoers ¿right? But Lucio... fucks up a lot. Even though he might make new friends easily, he would have a hard time keeping them, and those who are there for a good time, might not stick around when Lucio’s least attractive side shows up. On a deeper level, he would be attracted to someone who can remain calm when he cannot. Someone willing to give a second (or third, or fourth...) chance. He needs someone who will be forgiving of mistakes and be understanding while he learns to become a better person. A harsh hand will only make him defensive, and it will be conterproductive. A partner who always nags him will make him think that anything he does will be frowned upon, and eventually he'll stop listening to any advice, no matter how important. Also, he needs a partner who is not too rigid and who does not take every little thing like it's the end of the world, someone who is patient if he does something a little childish, as long as it does not hurt anyone (like getting on top of a table and making a scene). That way, when their partner really needs him to listen, he will.

#yeah lucio's is the longest cause he's my fav lol #the arcana #The Arcana Game #asra alnazar #nadia satrinava #julian devorak #muriel of the kokhuri #portia devorak #count lucio #lucio morgasson #the arcana headcanons #headcanons #arcana #i've probably made a whole ton of mistakes #my english feels a little rusty but whatev #muriel

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peakyoak · 2 years ago

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This Dark Disposition: Chapter 35 - Get To Work Soldiers

Chapter 35 - Get To Work Soldiers

The Next Day

Tommy held out his hand and Danielle stepped off the barge and onto the shore of Camden Town. When she did so Danielle felt a shiver go up her spine and she hugged her navy fur lined coat around her. Winter would be coming soon and she was glad she brought her black leather gloves with her.

“This way,” Danielle told Tommy as she walked towards the front door of the bakery. The place looked different this time around; men lined the street and the docks as they packed boxes onto boats. Surely, these men were Tommy’s new recruits. Her coat swayed in the wind as she led Tommy to the back door of the building, the one with the swinging door.

As they approached the door Danielle and Tommy were greeted almost immediately by Solomons himself. Upon seeing him Danielle couldn’t help but let a smile slip, “Well well well if it isn’t the lil’ dove.” He said with outstretched arms that seemed to welcome her before he turned to look at Tommy, “I see you’ve brought your man.”

“Alfie,” Danielle said in a serious but calm tone, “This is my fiancé Tommy.”

At first Danielle wasn’t sure what would happen next. The intensity of the moment seemed to hang in the air like cigarette smoke that lingers. Alfie stroke his beard with his hand before he extended his hand towards Tommy “You’re girl is fuckin’ crazy mate,” he said as he shook Tommy’s hand.

Tommy nodded his head slightly to the side and took a breath, “She plays by her own rules.”

“Come love birds,” Alfie said as he turned to walk down the hall “This way.”

He led the couple back into the room where Alfie offered Danielle rum the last time she was in Camden Town, “We make lots o’ bread here, ya, lots of it, tell him Miss Virtue,” Alfie said as he walked down the hall with his distinct limp - every other step making a heavy thud.

“10,000 loaves a week I was told,” Danielle said as she looked further down the hallway at all the men lining up in the center of the building.

“Here,” Alfie said as he poured a glass of white rum, “Try this,” Alfie handed Tommy the glass and he drank it.

“It's good, smooth,” Tommy commented.

“Of course its fuckin’ good, eh. I made it and it's for the bosses,” as he talked he expressed himself by moving his free hand through the air, “I would offer some to your Mrs., but given her condition, and the fact that she’s currently growing the next Shelby leader in her body, I wouldn’t think it wise.”

Tommy looked at Alfie and then at Danielle and when he did so he clenched his jaw, “No, Mr. Solomons, it wouldn’t be.”

Alfie led them through to the main room where men were gathered in the center of the building, “Alright boys,” Tommy started talking as he paced back and forth across the room. Danielle stayed standing next to Alfie while Tommy instructed the men. “You’ve all been enrolled as bakers in the Aerated Bread Company of Camden Town.” He stopped and pointed at the group of men with his cigarette, “If anyone asks, that's what you do. You’re bakers. The coppers in Camden Town are on our side, but North or South you show them that piece of paper. Tell ‘em you've come down from the North to find work. To break strikes. We’re finding lodgings for you, but for now you’ll sleep here in the bakery.” Tommy paused for a second to get out a cigarette and light it, “Don’t touch any of the bread, it’ll most likely explode.” He took a drag off of his smoke, “Any questions?”

A middle aged man in the front row raised his hand. Fucking idiot. Danielle thought as she rolled her eyes. She glanced at Alfie who was leaning against some barrels. His facial expression made it clear that was just as impressed as she was.

Tommy exchanged glances with Danielle before he turned back to the man, “Yes?”

“I haven’t even seen any bread,” the man said as the other men laughed.

Danielle crossed her hands in front of her body and then looked at Alfie more obviously this time. It was clear that she was signaling for him to act, so he got up with a piece of rebar and walked up with his arms crossed to the man who spoke. He paused in front of the man for a second and then without saying anything he struck the man standing beside the questioner. After the man fell to the ground Alfie turned his attention back on the man, “He’ll wake up. Right he won’t have any teeth left, but he’ll be a wiser man for it. And the last thing he will remember is your funny lil’ joke, won’t he?”

“Right!” Aflie screamed as he walked in front of the men, “There are fuckin’ rules here and there are rules here for a fuckin’ reason. Quite simply they have to be obeyed, all righ’?” Alfie held out the piece of rebar as he talked with his hands, “Rule number one, the distinction between bread and rum is not discussed.” He paused for a second to ensure he still had the men’s attention, “Rule number two, anything that your superior officer says to you, or any of your other fuckin’ superior officers say to you, yeah? Not discussed!” He yelled once more before pacing to the other side of the room, “Rule number three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine I don’t care, for the rest of your lives, all right? Now I will keep this fuckin’ civil because there is a lady here, but for all of you for the rest of your fuckin’ miserable lives, Jewish women. You do not go near them because Jewish women for you are off the fuckin’ menu.”

Before he finished he turned back to look at Danielle and Tommy, “I think that’s fair.” Danielle had to give it to the guy, if nothing else he certainly had a dramatic flair, “Forgive me I interrupted you.”

Danielle took a step towards the men, “Pick him up,” Danielle motioned to the man on the ground, “Get him out of here.” She turned to walk back towards Tommy and Alfie, “And get to work soldiers.”

The Next Day - Small Heath

All morning Danielle had an awful spout of morning sickness - she was sick everyday of course, but today was especially brutal. What bothered Danielle the most, aside from the nausea, headache, and her empty stomach, was the fact that she was barely able to get any work done.

“You really should go home Danielle,” Polly said when she came into the office at about eleven in the morning, “don’t take this the wrong way but you look miserable.”

“I have a job to do, Polly,” Danielle said as she took another sip of ginger tea, “Besides, I told your nephew that I wasn’t going to stop working and much to his disapproval, actually, because of his disapproval, I intend to keep working.”

Another hour went by and Danielle didn’t eat lunch with the others. She knew if she did she would certainly throw up once more, “At this point we should just be keeping a bucket beside your desk,” Esme joked as she went back to her betting station.

Tommy had been in meetings at the Garrison and Charlie’s Yard all morning, when he returned to the gamling den he came into Danielle’s office, “Love, you really should go home,” Tommy said as she stood beside her desk, “Polly told me how your morning went.”

Danielle swiveled her chair to turn sideways so she could look up at him, “I won’t forgive you, you know” she said as she crossed her arms, “You’re the one who did this to me.”

Tommy leaned down to put his hands on the sides of her chair and spoke softly to her, “Ay, and now, as the one who did this to you, I’m telling you that you should go home. When was the last time you ate something and kept it down, Danny? When was the last time you ate something, period?”

Danielle stayed silent, she knew Tommy and Polly were right. She gently pushed Tommy to the side and got up from her chair, “Fine, I’ll go home, but I’m not happy about it.”

Tommy grabbed her coat from its hook and held it so she could put her arms in it, “Rest, Danny, and for the last time, eat something. Whether you keep it down or not.” When her coat was on he handed her her gloves.

She walked out of the office and into the main section of the gambling den. As she did so Tommy came out behind her and Danielle noticed how he glanced at Polly, “Go for a walk Danielle, some fresh air might help with the nausea,” Polly said as she walked out of the room with Dave and Steven in tow.

Danielle couldn’t believe how stupid the idea of going for a walk was. What pissed her off even more was twenty minutes later when she did actually seem to be feeling a little better. As she walked down Watery Lane towards her and Tommy’s house people tipped their hats at Danielle, some crossed the road, and others let their eyes linger for too long. Danielle knew that even normally she was recognizable to the people in Small Heath, but now, with two big men wearing blinder caps following her everywhere, there was no mistaking who she was.

As she walked Danielle noticed that the street was significantly less busy up ahead by her house. As Danielle walked down the street she realized that people were crossing the street instead of walking by her house. Danielle thought that seemed a little bit odd, especially considering that she was still half a block away.

When she got closer to the house it became clear why, “Miss Virtue,” a man called from the ally beside her home in a distinctly Irish voice, “I think it's far past time we talked,” the man said as he walked around the corner, each step he took was followed by the sound of a heavy metal cane.

#peaky blinders #tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby #peaky blinder fanfic

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yan-twst · 4 years ago

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Hi there! You think you can write the reactions of the dorm leaders finding out that the only way their s/o can go back to their world is to die? And at this point of time their s/o is already dead. Please don't write for this ask if you feel uncomfortable. Thank you!

warnings: death mentions, just sad shit lol

riddle rosehearts

he crumbles. his air of authority, his usual strictness, his taste for sweets; it crumbles. he’s reduced to a crying mess for days

he tries to find some relief in knowing, technically, his lover is fine, back at home. that they’re alive, just somewhere so far away from him, somewhere where he can’t see them. they’re not dead- but...

he can’t shake the image of them in a casket. of them dying. crowley assures him that they returned home, that “dying” here for them was just the way to return, but it does very little to soothe him

how is he supposed to be calm? to take it all in stride?

they are alive, somewhere else. but they’re so far away, they’re somewhere he can’t even look at. he tells himself it’s better this way, they’re out there living; but it’s hard. they feel like they’re gone, and it’s because they are, just not in the way he was originally grieving for

to riddle, finding a partner was just another escape. an escape like NRC is, like the unbirthday parties are, like his dorm leader activities are, escapes from the fact he must return home once vacations come and he must bend to his mother’s will once again- and his lover being ripped away from him has him in shambles

riddle has never been one to make wishes upon stars or to believe in those silly wishing charms children play with, but he begins to silently wish to see his lover just once more. he feels selfish, he feels horrible- they’re back home and he wants to once again rip them out of their world and bring them into his, but he can’t help it

he consoles himself by thinking of them. how are they doing? did their friends back home miss them? maybe the people back in their world thought they were dead and suddenly they returned- much like how he thought they’d passed away until he was told they were alive back at home

that’s what he holds onto. they’re alive, out there- they aren’t entirely gone, even if he held their cold corpse in his hands, somewhere out there in another world entirely their heart still beats

leona kingscholar

is this a fucking joke? is this truly how things are? is he supposed to celebrate? yay, his lover isn’t actually dead, they’ve just been tossed back into their world of origin by the virtue of dying in leona’s world?

how is that any consolation? they’re gone, one way or another

it’s not like being told “hey! you might have thought your lover died but they actually were taken away by the same weird unexplained magic that brought them here, but they just had to die to return and somehow nobody knew this, and this information is only getting to you after a couple days of grieving their death” is suddenly going to fix anything

he’s bitter. can’t he have anything? not the throne, not the people’s respect, not love?

they might be home- but they’re about as good as dead, aren’t they? it’s not like this was a planned return, not as if they’d known it would happen. not like he had time to prepare, time to say goodbye, to even try to prepare for their departure, leave alone having to believe they were dead

it wasn’t a departure. it was them being ripped away from him. and now they’re gone forever, and not even the fucking headmaster who’s supposed to be this wise and powerful figure can even figure out how they got here or how they left upon their death

it takes time for the wound to heal. while knowing they’re technically back home doesn’t soothe him much, it does calm his soul somewhat; they aren’t a cold corpse, his last memory of bidding farewell to their cold corpse isn’t their last moment, they’re back where they belong

he doesn’t seem to hold any hope to see them again. but he can make an effort to try and reminisce about their time together- to think of anything but their cold corpse, of their lack of pulse- trying to match his mental image to how he imagines they’re living back at home, where they’re still alive

azul ashengrotto

he can’t take it. azul just retreats- he can’t function, not like this

when he’s told that while his darling died, they technically returned home, he tries so hard to take that as good news, he really does

curled up in his bed, eyes puffy with tears, body weak from not leaving his bed, he tries to force himself to think that’s good news. it has to be good news, he has to be happy over it-

but in reality, he can’t. how is he supposed to take that?! he loved them, he wanted to be with them, spend time with them; and now he’s never going to even see them again, never get to hold them, never hear their reassuring voice when he has a bad day

his guilt and overall grief just double, if anything. he should be happy- but he can’t. he can’t be happy about the fact they’re back home, he just can’t celebrate it, and so his grief mounts

is this truly it? he falls in love, spends time, builds a relationship, and then they die and he mourns only to then be told it was actually somehow meant to happen and it was the way for them to return to their world? that’s how it all ends?

it truly takes a long while for him to compose himself- long weeks, months pass and he’s not quite well. he doesn’t know if he’ll be. he can’t bring himself to throw away the funeral flowers, can’t bring himself to go back to his daily life

it’s a slow and painful process, and all he can do is hope his lover isn’t going through something similar. he tells himself that the last thing he’d want is for them to be back home, mourning him like this and unable to live, so he has to be strong. for them, even though they’re no longer where he can reach them

kalim al-asim

kalim tries so hard to take it all and run with it, to keep a positive attitude. perhaps that’s why the image of him sobbing at the “funeral” was so heartwrenching, and perhaps that’s why when crowley pops up informing that even though his lover did die, this was actually the correct way to return them to their world, kalim tries so hard to take in the information

absolutely everyone can tell he’s broken. everyone can see the dried tears on his cheeks, the way his eyes are puffy and red. at nights, those with dorms close to him can hear him cry. but then he goes and acts like it’s fine, saying they’re ok! they went back home! haha, i hope they’re having fun!

it’s as if he’s not allowing himself to grieve, telling himself he has no right to mourn because they’re alive, even though he clearly needs to, needs to find a healthy way to air out his emotions

but he doesn’t. he’s trying to immediately shove down the horror and overwhelming despair of his lover’s death and try to celebrate their return home, trying to ignore his own wounds to lighten the mood

it’s painful to watch, but there’s not much to do. what can even be done? there’s no guide on how to help someone in this situation; usually it’s him gently giving help to others, encouraging them to confront their emotions, but when it comes to himself he seems to just be letting his own grief and sadness eat him alive

kalim never forgets them. he always brings them up- when he sees their favourite food, when he sees a bench they liked to sit in, when he sees a colour they liked. it’s as if he’s reassuring himself they aren’t truly dead, as if he’s promising himself that if he can keep their memory fresh it’ll be as if they aren’t as far away from him as they are

vil schoenheit

the scariest part of vil’s mourning is that he shows nobody his weakness. during the funeral, he barely sheds tears, despite his hands shaking from how hard he’s clutching the edges of his lover’s casket, during his mourning he always seems to be composed despite his makeup telling he’s been crying and hastily attempting to touch it up

... he wishes he could say finding out his lover didn’t truly die eased the pain. it did, in a sense- but it just brought on a different kind of pain

he can’t just mourn, he can’t grieve his loss like a normal person. everyone’s eyes are on him, his job requires for him to keep a good public image; every day he has to fix himself, has to try and make his very clearly exhausted and tear stained face look appropriate

he tries to cling onto the fact they’re alive like a mantra. they’re alive back at home they didn’t truly die they’re ok they’re alive back at home; he repeats it in his head like a mantra, trying to keep himself from just breaking down while going on about his daily life

but it’s just not enough. he can’t help but drown in grief, drown in the “what ifs”. did they even want to go back? do they regret not getting to say goodbye? were they scared when they took their last breath here? did they think of him in his last moments here? do they think of him?

... would they have stayed if they’d had a choice?

it just tears him apart. there’s no way to know; he’s just hurting himself by asking those questions. there’s no point- they might be alive, but they’re still gone, realistically speaking.

all he can do is try to lose himself in his routines, try to not think as much as possible. try to just lock the memories that bring him warmth and ignore everything else- the death the what-ifs the distance between them- so he can function

idia shroud

it’s his fault. it has to be, somehow. idia has to be practically ripped away from his lover’s corpse, as his mind still can’t process what happened- no, he can- he can save them, he can bring them back, he can...!

he can’t.

they didn’t belong here, crowley says. their death isn’t a real death, it’s just their return to their world, where they’re supposed to be. there’s no bringing them back, not with any magic or any technology

and idia just breaks.

isolated in his own room, he doesn’t allow anyone to get close. not even his own brother can seem to get to him; idia seems to act like a corpse, just laying in bed, trying to ignore the world. he’s not touching his videogames, not even trying to take care of himself, it’s as if he’s shutting out everything to drown in his own grief and regret

there’s no comfort in knowing that his lover returned home; it’s as good as them being dead for him, isn’t it? he can’t even try to fake being happy they’re home, because fuck, they were just- just ripped away from the life they’d built here so violently, they’d been here one day and the next they were lifeless, thrown back to the world they’d come from with no chance to even say goodbye

people worry for him. he’s not ok, and by the way things look, it doesn’t seem like he wants to be ok, letting himself waste away. ortho worries, despairs, begs for others to try to help, but what can they do? just show up and go “hey man, sorry about your significant other and like, only person you were truly close to passing away but not really because they got sent back to their world where you can never see them again, want a snack?”

it truly takes a lot to help him, and honestly it’ll take much more for him to go back to “normal”. he isn’t a stranger to mourning, but this loss, this emptiness is something he knows he can’t shake away- usually he’d turn to his lover for help when he fell into a spiral of negativity, but haha how funny of life to rip away his support system like that!

in the end, all he can do is slowly try to piece himself together; if not for him, for those who care about him; mainly for ortho. he knows the younger shroud was also attached to his lover, and so he slowly tries to do his best to comfort him, and in the process heal his shattered heart perhaps just enough to function once again

malleus draconia

there’s never quite been a storm as rough sweeping over the entire school. the clouds heavy with rain and thunder as malleus weeps and mourns, his emotions overwhelming him and turning into raw anger at the world itself while lilia desperately tries to calm him down before he causes serious damage

he’d always known they’d die one day- humans live less than fae, he knew that much. but he’d expected more time, he’d expected years. decades. and instead he got some months of happiness and love and then he was holding their corpse as it slowly grew colder

he rages and cries until he tires himself out. he doesn’t even know what he’s angry at- perhaps at crowley for not finding an alternate way home or for not letting malleus’ lover know of the dangers that lurk? perhaps at himself for not protecting his lover? or at the world itself for ripping away the first person he’s cared for in this way in such a violent manner?

the fact they’re “back home” means nothing to him. they’re gone- gone, out of his grasp. once malleus collapses, exhausted, it looks as if a beast had rampaged through NRC

he throws himself into trying to at least contact them. he’s powerful; he’s one of the best wizards there is- so how come he can’t even catch a glimpse of his beloved back in their homeworld? are they truly so far away from him?

dragon fae live for centuries upon centuries; and they mourn for years. after all, a year isn’t much time for malleus- and he couldn’t even bask in his beloved’s presence for that long- and it’s certainly not enough to heal the wounds in his heart

all he can do is try to wait, wait for the pain to subside; and meanwhile he’ll just suffer. the mere thought of his beloved is enough to make magic crackle in the air as emotions flood him, his guards and lilia running to his side to try and make him calm down

malleus doesn’t need sleep, but he forces himself to do so, just so he can dream of them. that’s as much as he can do. he’ll live for centuries, for years upon years: once everyone else is gone, only him and lilia will remember his beloved. he doesn’t want to forget them, doesn’t want their image to disappear. if they truly are alive back in their world, then he promises to keep their memory alive here in his world

#twst #twisted wonderland #riddle rosehearts #azul ashengrotto #leona kingscholar #kalim al asim #vil schoenheit #idia shroud #malleus draconia #death ment #Anonymous

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finnritter · 1 year ago

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This is a very good take and now I have thoughts, so pls excuse my slightly tired additions:

I like to think that it's both, actually. Or, well, first of all I'd like to agree with you that "reckless" probably isn't the right term to describe those prime examples of Fingon's and Fingolfin's most prominent actions. Risky? Sure. Care- or thoughtless? Probably not. Maybe "bold" is a better word to describe those... Nolofinwean vibes without ignoring that they actually have the ability to think about the possible consequences of their actions.

I do interpret both of them as being rather impulsive, intuitive personalities (this is personal preference, though), but this does not make them unable to act more patiently, ofc, especially when it's about literally world-changing decisions. And I do think that the patience and endurance you mentioned is a very important part of both of their characters and both has a lot to do with mental strength, a trait which they possibly both learned more than they were born with it.

Consider (and this is very imaginative interpretation here, again, so obvs not written in stone): Fingolfin, as someone who is passionate, stubborn and more instinctive than pensive by nature, having to learn patience, not only by virtue of his royalty, but also due to his juxtaposition with Feanor (not going to deep into that bc we'd still be here tomorrow. But I'm sure you understand what I mean!)

As for endurance, the Helcaraxe is physical proof of just how much they can endure, and it also pushed both Fingolfin and probably Fingon too, at least partly, into actual leadership roles (they were leading their hosts before, sure, but the stakes raised so drastically with the crossing of the Ice, it surely had nothing to do with what "leadership" meant to them before).

And that's the crux I think, a good leader, one who manages to get their people through five years of icy hell, can't afford to be selfish in their recklessness. I do think personal motivation, strong emotions and the absolute guts it takes to go all out and do what either of them have done in their most famed moments, were driving their respective actions. It might even have been their first instinct to be reckless, but that was not the decision-making process. Because at that point, they both knew better than to be so reckless, even if they wanted to be, without going through all the options first.

(Also, especially for Fingolfin, the duality of "patient and wise" and "the most daredevil badass in all of Arda" creates an amazing force of personality. To be so controlled while capable of being s o incredibly bold is such a statement.)

In the Silmarillion fandom, we enjoy grabbing the trope of “Nolofinwëan recklessness” and running wild with it.

The most common victims of this are Fingon the Rash Prince and Fingolfin the Impulsive King, who rushes into suicidal combat. Both father and son daring death within Morgoth’s domain.

It’s fun to write and exciting to imagine, no doubt, but I’d like to offer a different take. In fact, what makes Fingon and Fingolfin (and the rest of that family) compelling to me is their patience and endurance.

Yes, I’m aware Fingon rushes to battle at Alqualondë, but that’s a world-altering event. The light of the world has literally gone out, murder has happened in Valinor, Finwë is dead. Most of the Noldor are up on their feet and ready to depart. Everyone is rushing.

But this is not always the case with Fingon. Most significantly, the rescue of Maedhros is NOT a rushed decision. The published Silmarillion offers no timeline on this, but in The Grey Annals, five entire years pass between the arrival of Fingolfin’s host to Beleriand and Fingon’s decision to look for Maedhros.

Five years in which the two hosts are quite literally on the verge of civil war because, let’s not forget:

No love was there in the hearts of those that followed Fingolfin for the House of Fëanor, for the agony of those that endured the crossing of the Ice had been great, and Fingolfin held the sons the accomplices of their father.

Diplomacy is a painfully slow (and absolutely frustrating!) ordeal. Fingon’s decision is born from this strife, from thirty years on the Helcaraxë, and five years of civil restlessness, not to mention the clear signs that Morgoth is ready to attack them at any moment:

Then Fingon the valiant, son of Fingolfin, resolved to heal the feud that divided the Noldor, before their Enemy should be ready for war; for the earth trembled in the Northlands with the thunder of the forges of Morgoth underground.

This is not rashness. This is the sacrifice of a captain who is willing to make the best of what time is left before full-out destruction begins. It would be rashness if Fingon got his company and crossed Mithrim to wage battle on the Fëanorians. Instead, he chooses differently for the sake of peace, stability, and renewed friendship.

The trek from Lake Mithrim to Thangorodrim could be estimated at around 150 miles, depending on the map we follow, and there are grasslands and two sets of mountains to cross, not to mention the horror of Thangorodrim. Fingon travels on foot. It would take him weeks, maybe even months, to find Maedhros. Plenty of time for the fire of rashness to cool down if that was the case. But he persists because he has no other choice.

Similarly, I often see takes on Fingolfin, who rushes to pointless combat with Morgoth in the same manner as Fëanor. Yet again, the timeline is crucial here. The published Silmarillion has the battle lasting at least several months. Bragollach starts in F.A. 455 during winter time:

There came a time of winter, when night was dark and without moon

The battle slows down presumably a few months later:

but the Battle of Sudden Flame is held to have ended with the coming of spring, when the onslaught of Morgoth grew less.

The onslaught grows less, but it doesn’t fully cease. Morgoth and Sauron reissue their attacks early into Fingon’s kingship.

In the Grey Annals, the timeline is stretched further out:

Year 455:

The Fell Year. Here came an end of peace and mirth. In the winter, at the year's beginning, Morgoth unloosed at last his long-gathered strength

Year 456:

Now Fingolfin, King of the Noldor, beheld (as it seemed to him) the utter ruin of his people, and the defeat beyond redress of all their houses, and he was filled with wrath and despair.

The fighting goes on actively anywhere from a season to a full year! Fingolfin tries to hold his kingdom together for a full year despite an absolute, unquestionable disaster. I mean, look at this description of the battle:

In the front of that fire came Glaurung the golden, father of dragons, in his full might; and in his train were Balrogs, and behind them came the black armies of the Orcs in multitudes such as the Noldor had never before seen or imagined. And they assaulted the fortresses of the Noldor, and broke the leaguer about Angband, and slew wherever they found them the Noldor and their allies, Grey elves and Men. Many of the stoutest of the foes of Morgoth were destroyed in the first days of that war, bewildered and dispersed and unable to muster their strength. War ceased not wholly ever again in Beleriand

Fingolfin’s decision to ride out, again, is not out of recklessness. It’s everything but that. He has given everything and truly believes it’s all lost: “the utter ruin of his people, and the defeat beyond redress of all their houses.” (!!!)

This is a final stand, the King’s duty to stand by his people, even in death.

#i hope this is relatively coherent #was not prepared to write an essay tonight but this is such a fun topic to think about!!#totally agree with you there op #silmarillion #fingolfin #fingon #character and relationship studies

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hopelesshawks · 4 years ago

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Physical Fatality Part 1- Respectable

Summary: You’re a rising star in All Might’s agency. Hawks is the darling of Endeavor’s. By virtue of your job descriptions, the two of you are supposed to hate each other, or at the very least be cautiously neutral. For a long time that’s exactly what the two of you did. You stayed out of each other’s way and formed little opinion of the other. One fateful night at an HPSC gala changes all that.

If you don’t want to see Physical Fatality content blacklist #hopelesspf

This story will have multiple NSFW parts so it is 18+ ONLY minors dni

Masterlist

You sit down at your desk staring almost blankly ahead. “Hey Katsuki, can I borrow your hoodie really quick?” you ask the man whose desk has been next to yours for almost a year now and who just so happens to be the number three hero. He looks at you, then the leather jacket you’re clearly wearing, and raises an eyebrow. “What the fuck are you talking about?” he asks. “Bakugo. Hoodie. Now,” you try again, extending an expectant hand out to him. He notices the diamond engagement ring that had made its home there for the past couple of months is gone so he takes off and hands over his hoodie. “Thanks,” you tell him giving him a smile, before carefully folding up the hoodie and then promptly shoving it in your face to muffle your frustrated scream.

“Are you ok (y/n)?” a different voice asks full of concern. You lift your head out of the sweatshirt to find a freckle-faced man hovering in front of your desk. “I’m fine Midoriya,” you sigh. “Liar,” Bakugo scoffs. You glare at him before throwing his hoodie at his face. He still manages to catch it, the bastard. “You and Monoma broke up didn’t you?” he asks without missing a beat as he puts his hoodie back on. Midoriya’s eyes get wide as he turns back to you to confirm. “Yea, we did. For good this time,” you relent. “What happened?” Midoriya asks with sad eyes. God you’re too sober for his pity, but you’re also still at work so you guess you’ll just have to power through because there’s no way he’ll drop it now. “The usual. We fought and he got mean the way he always does. I just finally had enough,” you shrug. “Don’t do that (y/n), you know you can talk about it with us,” Midoriya insists, grabbing a chair from a nearby desk and pulling it up to yours. As he sits down you realize there’s no talking your way out of this. The lower ranking heroes were taking all of the patrols today so the three of you had plenty of time to go over your failed engagement.

“Fine! Geez, he basically called me a slut with no friends,” you finally admit. “What? None of that’s true!” Midoriya protests. “It’s kind of true,” you shrug. “Bakugo and I are your friends!” Midoriya insists. “Don’t rope me into shit you damn nerd,” Bakugo scowls. “He said you two don’t count cause you’re my coworkers and I almost never see you guys outside of work,” you reply. “That’s just because we all basically live at work,” Bakugo says rolling his eyes. “So we are friends then?” you smirk at Bakugo. “What are you on about?” he scowls. “You didn’t contradict the friends part of that sentence,” you point out. “Obviously we’re friends, dumbass. Shouldn’t have to fuckin tell you all the time,” he huffs, slightly embarrassed by the admission which makes you laugh. “You know you’re not a slut either,” Midoriya cuts in. “Nah, she was definitely a slut.” “Kacchan!” “What? If anything she should go back to being a slut. She was way more fun then,” Bakugo shrugs. “I agree with Bakugo on this one. Monoma is an asshole and I never would’ve gotten engaged to him in the first place if All Might hadn’t pressured me into a relationship with him,” you point out. “Wait, All Might is the reason you two got together?” Midoriya asks. “Did you not know this story? The tabloids were eating me alive because of all the one night stands. Monoma was the quote, unquote ‘perfect opportunity to make me respectable’ and get the tabloids off my back. I didn’t care but the agency has a reputation to maintain,” you explain. “Speak of the devil,” Bakugo suddenly says. You turn to see where he’s looking only to groan as you notice your now ex-fiancé storming into the room.

“We weren’t done talking (y/n)!” Monoma shouts as he rapidly approaches your desk. You quickly spin around so your back is facing him. “Do you think he’ll go away if I pretend I didn’t see him?” you ask Bakugo conspiratorially. “Doubtful,” Bakugo scoffs. You groan in response just as Monoma finally gets to your desk and spins your chair around to face him. “You’re being unreasonable, just take the ring back,” he insists as he holds the obnoxiously large diamond out towards you. “No Neito, I told you we’re done,” you sigh. “You don’t mean that. Baby, please,” he begs and it’s starting to tug on your heart a little bit. For one tiny moment you think maybe you’re being too harsh. After all, in spite of the circumstances from which it all started, you had grown to love him over the years of your tumultuous relationship. For just one moment you consider saying fine and taking back the ring. Then Monoma does what he always does: he opens his stupid fucking mouth. “I could make you golden if you’d just show some respect,” he promises and it’s so ludicrous you could almost laugh. Almost. “You know, I’d tell you to shove that stupid ring up your ass but I’m afraid it would never fit with your head already stuck so deep in there. Fuck off Monoma,” you tell him.

He looks like he’s about to protest again but Midoriya and Bakugo both are stood beside you in an instant. Having the number one and number three heroes as your closest friends has its perks. “Walk away extra,” Bakugo warns, his palms sparking. You see the green sparks of Midoriya charging up his own quirk out the corner of your eye and you’re sure Monoma must be shitting himself at least a little bit. “So you’re trading me in for some of the wondrous 1-A boys then?” he asks and it makes you roll your eyes so hard it’s a wonder they don’t fall out. “No Neito. I’m just done with you and your bullshit,” you insist. “Please don’t go away,” he finally begs as one last ditch attempt to win you back. “It’s too late,” you tell him. He opens and closes his mouth a few times before finally giving up and walking away.

When the door finally shuts behind him you sag in relief with a sigh. “Did he just refer to you guys by your class name from fucking high school?” you ask in disbelief as Bakugo and Midoriya finally relax and go back to sitting. “He did,” Midoriya sighs. “Jesus Christ I almost married that guy. I was prepared to have kids with that guy!” you groan. Midoriya gives you a reassuring pat on the back. “Why couldn’t All Might have tried to set me up with you instead Midoriya,” you pout. “O-oh! I’m flattered! But uh I really don’t think of you that way. Not that you’re not attractive or anything! I don’t mean it like that! Just yknow I see you more as a sister and uh-“ he stutters as his face goes red. His rant is cut off by the sound of your laughter. “Oh my god, Midoriya relax! I’m kidding! I know you’re very happy with Uravity. The two of you are adorable together it’s disgusting,” you assure him. “Hey why’d you say that shitty nerd over me?” Bakugo cuts in with a raised eyebrow. You roll your eyes. “You can’t fix my reputation Bakugo. The only reason you don’t have to fix your own is because you’ve had the same shitty one since high school so it’s just part of your brand now,” you point out. Bakugo doesn’t particularly like that answer but you’re not wrong so he doesn’t contradict you. “Whatever, at least there’s that dumb ass HPSC masquerade thing tonight,” he grouses. “How is that an ‘at least’? Those things suck,” you groan. “They aren’t that bad! A bunch of the retired heroes are gonna speak!” Midoriya tries to encourage. “That’s exactly why it’ll suck,” you sigh. “Wrong as usual, dumbass,” Bakugo smirks. “Oh really? Enlighten me then oh wise explosion murder god,” you say, turning to face him. He glares at your use of the old moniker but decides to give you a pass this time since Monoma was such a brat. “You only hate them because you’ve only been with the stupid respectable copycat where you had to make stupid respectable small talk to create a stupid respectable reputation. This time you’ll roll in with us, we’ll get drunk on the company’s dime while Deku fusses, and we’ll be anything but respectable. Fuck being respectable,” Bakugo asserts. “You know what? Fuck it and fuck being respectable,” you agree. Bakugo grins at you as Midoriya looks between the two of you concerned. “I guess you earned it,” he sighs and your grin only brightens.

Tonight is going to be one to remember.

Author’s Note: I honestly feel like Monoma is more of an asshole here than he is in the anime/manga but I mostly just needed someone to fit into this role and I couldn’t bear to have any of 1-A do it cause I love them too much so here we are 😬

#hopelesspf #hawks #wing hero hawks #hawks x reader #hawks x y/n #bnha

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libidomechanica · 1 month ago

Text

After breath and the rayne is crumenall

A limerick sequence

But a precede the raucous birds perjurious love me like bene, but now, he opens; only Nature, carry Diggon. After breath and the rayne is crumenall.

Fold man that vneth me. Behest, and burning years. No thee rest, comfort: no, nor mirth, and bare such is quite and juicy. Shame! Refrigerator. Face, and evening lip throte.

” But angels went, but ah, she the child. Show; a love’s might in the soft trembling has comes that the fled! It from his my shadow. Daily digging of lilies happy dell.

Lust has before without extreme way to tumble frayed like the sands upon import throte. The hath a heavy, my voice of your memory, with state, softly and die.

As a decay, a philosophise The windows. Snowy send, made thy loof incomes in his sleep a poor, yet presum’d, carrying on my tone; o river, and lo!

Back from the child of all pillow, turn’d round, of your first time, and raise. Pale: would be but who can fierce; a poinsettia meadow and it moved you cease to Loue declined doom.

One with me, and strong. Of the names, but never will keeps mine to reve me the unwoo’d and unto my all a child, and climb! In our slightning and at have tried dismay.

Rage; incertain, what should be a rocket find that second the can be consent sympathy. And in a wind, then, its bounty and do not and with me the aisle.

Which, God mountenaunce. With feminine cape’s who had been way, the shouting car.— And yet that is miss her might dungeons on flower and bright vapour, to say youth, to know.

I fearest, for fear’d, so effect, but exciting laili’—were was cradle or others, weep; tis no more, which keep i’ll live there is a ministerhood. Whose hurt her.

Fairer and failed by the books at dark crowding immortal go. In such triumph barely going ball, and wake! When though his lastly, shade out like a moan with us!

From sea is now. Julia, this flanks are joyfully, mystery own. ’ Years or who forced, mought then, increased in the crescent present pay? A good in my breast doth brain dreams.

Lie without tread, they only iewell, growth, it wont for if your nerves as she world she mirrors of the night? Late about to all that it is, that the barren walking.

Her just least, never bedlamity harder head what stuck in sack of our destinies,—lest wise me a’; but wild hopes I their should, I thou in the dead? Which we met!

This is,’ could, being ‘no orator. I kind, with either: as a charging dead. Bene fraye, to torture dame of for overthrown, I feelings. Despite, I cannot.

When I’m you-smell fayre fleeting! Out, translated on an ocean, one needs to be to bowl was slumbers and picked it and beauties, his hate me so artless, tho’ I die.

Thought I spent.—David, speak, why didst implore in spraised, Inclin’d, too; and of four kept? And pain, In that with you in her virtue the summons to pierce seen by the sheaf?

Nor is my lips to fall, to play. Die and fatal tides,—lest thou leave its conuersation is that in my life into the enjoy? That was some of the prey, insane.

So style if I open to a sleep, dead. Years, nor forever. Except Mahomet’s to lost move take the Abbey, accord that shing the give; smile their sweet looks fair lite.

Young, brain. Or her the Briareus! Pass to my heart to watch and do my bidding, not neer. No the spare religious, half-words chamber: dim and I die! What in sweet. Fain words.

Oft I hates fourth, if though ice cheaper petrified, and by sun. And other mother’s to filling than the rush consequence with light like to have me, and see what words.

Has not between Vertue and out Diggon. Then us, waving swarm or others can lend—they dead, alone. I dempt to say you, so long with his Highness, some yet all thine.

Though thorns and cast. Of all that length she. My tender than once other iust away, o’erthrow. And kisses, which we all with there, after shall exactly inconside here?

Their ray was stress shall not wrong. And looked more doth amongst forehead and time by the solstice and kindling hand her glade, so unkind, I will oft sky limbs, and I almost.

What dimm’d or wise Roman, to shall I for his poor Juanna, too, Beauty dyed? Oblivion to me; and them both nor do not silent shall haue love, nor in the dead.

Jackhammer is not yield all my e’e, till wood, may more which all the bent. And soon falters in the streams are look at you. Learn to jest; and show’d me from the foolish this.

Each tree, music wine on my buried. The across the came vestal duties, among he last fly no face. All night stars which fable messence! For my wife divide where?

I should my finger lay, Her sofa for Roffy could black and eyes; if all th’adulteries a sweet envy, hater from a lucid urn. Could contumelious seem’d.

Know my slumber. She casten to cheere his, how only had out in a hand. Think to be drop downe word, much display when I wene a Gods greed of earth; soars frond of that.

So fairy hornest wets the can still believe, Yet your brother’s time thing, this he had save Dudu; in springs whose vices— propagation, when Phoebus waist! For me.

Some to opposition left compos’d with crooke of that? And crush, her wound sleep anew! Just give meadows about then? As its flight of Living within the twin the noise.

Doth as the hear than, since, cried: “Arise! From palms pass and cold, how to the tulips and sea? Nor seated to rue my wife … She coming night, and Heavens, the ruled—some pare.

Famous chamber you’re a stand! All continual hair lot to peeps with a cloudes out, O fair tongue: none you, beauty’s child yearning snowy shroud, he foule Diggon.

But forgive you canst now than thou sees but under on these lately should appetite preciates the spring there, it had been my treasure. While Dudu, with I doe?

Have close is crownèd with you cease take things. Fair-haired that in our approaches his laboure out each the stout blood close—Stars,. Invulnerable to his body over that!

But let he certain wonder’d, she under fire. A we-see poem obeying on but most dead, o ye! When birds came, Katinka, too, at sound, thy head just and Scorn?

I know my captive sooth, which is drags into the rose-leaf by his replete. These day, I must give. Stile as Maud haste away thou emble least, but for truth half-science!

Away, this ills—a bird’s all die and doth the princess! Seemed now thee will quick appropriately mild, its line your beautiful as veil the wind blood? Or let thy so?

Thing in a maching time of. And the road, he seem strong Fount of into the stars that lies, sweet virtuous most my fond Phyllis being some his diseas’d through yonder’d.

If to falling if I’ve love lost, and shape, and all too long, now, appear like the graveyard, but this water. Godless fates, and the last are a new men and calmly beg.

The night the deares not of model of the coward it—then as then wealth not, in down like. Of his is not; soothe end of the Abbey, and never motion of love.

The down wings, some of red dreamy, kindly inconscious core; they will pay my pleasing me down ways easily the nail gripped mote vnfolded through palm, let their plan? And sea?

And tears away, and turning rain to be contains, and than thing, brain. Him whom for on those halcyon dark how frill? And in his departed tongue has his hath her feel!

Things, crying, grant, save all why thy shall love and see itself and know what the presently, and the corpse. And move looks to me the moving life passion, I lost instein!

I do my swerve from Clarinda’s hear. ’Twas hearts; and, as wish, that kindling; cheerfull men and said she’s yonder’d, but and is Love that his Highness of no great use?

Augur memorial preludes his they change thy thousand beast descend—oh, dreamed I was put to part! Health half Belmont Stakes in a wagon in either, comes no joke.

Or, if to shook that they right for City. The rage, but far away, that never but certaint not hearing and with their bridge you out of what will lie, we shall as deep.

Or dismay, I must, yet from all their time in our handsome, I lo’e best the curse and vital friends this youth of Nature’s azure spit. Is, since the left behind us.

Twilight, And not heaven’s eyes the gnawing the shall pass Live! Between those from my eyes; a red for trial pressions, spital, which hesitation of the very treason.

Made her meet, in salt,—or whose sacred dirge and perswades out of shame! How too minus of the Dreams on the Harp that in my husband bright a rainbow frail gesture.

Woman shames. As her ligge Bulls, at last, and the rose of much did brings sake: for no more self Narcissus, also bent. Harmonizes her face, spite thoroughts of feather.

And far, I am glade, die a most must some doe idly exchange, or stave. The weak; another think thee seen in circumference: these roll in a man could escape me?

In the moon, among the maxim forty; whose Attributes thing, and hers lover, they were he makes thines, with his death. At length, that in fatal tide into the bays.

Snake, knowing vanquish’d; other. Crown crown extremely warmth, which suspicion, than that’s therein cost little jealous Earth’s poor and to it … You are you say, The One remains.

Some of thy waves your verse, mine; but, faire a tooth lips. And that unrest I lay on scrolls and screaming the shrank six boys, her dream’d of silk and far, I am that thy swerve.

To be! Am in her with a high or got it, that my Mothers the flies irritated; and being by a clue, or everyday to nursed to my darling me.

—And I swear on me, I would be bound and glory strain carpenter, health have been illegal for ever drank like that has been in those taken. And Love been pebbles.

But the came transportion to a luteous and was it was wont to hold as certain’d, here is Spain’s or Christ of three. How, Deares do storm, and shower, this practise sheaf?

There who has browe brough sometimes chamber latitude, he call tis all outline old himself desire, whether so grasp at a faultlessed by all me so sweetning?

Silent love, when summer, nor will I sue god serene, we to sleeping there were stomakes verse-recite. Much war throte, and arm, tis no mourn this charme the nothing, brain?

Goodly graces, and Loues stranger since with eyes seized the Briareus! Enrich maching starvationmastern wolf and rather in a Mart of his worse and strange—and my face.

Three yestern wolf be monopoly— the wild that name. It was late its and this young behind my finger skinne. Is removed one of company, about, you were vex’d.

’Ve dark trees, faded the hour and white veil; a red spent is long as yet dragon in each morning the way said her was full, if thou art cruel be? That none and die.

Kissed me. Is it make shall be not Love it we are living have that made must gets me hence make an after, speake not violets, fenced- in, so unkind direction may brown.

That sad distemper, O though thorn; was nights, dog ill, and let out the shore and she seer. Among the Sage where: some still strength seely sheepe, as it is husband for a blood!

Then foole, carry Diggon, I fearest hover, that doth ambition, implore that Sage’s silence. Even corn winds on me, I can, the blaze of Dudu, a good.

To bark, their couch of rest; but still be well me be buxome and as is that the firm soil win of incomes me we star to meet, jumping bug. Least, she said she to be!

Beloved in fatal inseparation of Lovers butter. Lost Echoes, in a woman many a through the lamp of medicates a sing; some embargo.

Ministers walk and plain, rain wonder, dearer blood, transferr’d how words within my foote in spirit’s no the pitch’d hallucinated. Advantage beheld,—than a tend.

Had their doctrine, nor in state are loosen’d fruit down it, there, and laugh an after shall his mother crument. And throught with to plaint for the cost of the soft, but work.

And diamond is importal curt some Dreams. How tone for more clock, by black again is wrinkles; when far- shadow of Pan from his forlornest and round and only wove.

Sad temple’s own her love? Which smiling hand, being King Himself, to creepe? If but as he wantonly when Beauty dyed? So sublime, like thing will I teach other’s branch.

But a dreaming open to swage. Thy looks say, Remember’s elder they be my ioye shepheards that clouds run me. His stream in a slendently whereafter voice did give!

If it sounds do not what spurn that Stella O dear that I have guests wouldst use even The air be must do with feeds, like my little light? At fiend a hostes, must use?

When sun beauty from bonds which had full of that al hire baundoun. I’ll lay it their cal: for a presences of itself, once wherefore they does were head. Sweet some part!

Footstep upon a rill—or rather’d all so crossing hair. But the connubial content, sickly shepheards to be ready manner sits, ceas’d then the soul of dew; Live!

Wherein conside me yet the soth them warmth, it is apt to me, then pyramids, and looks with discipline sordid husbands with alit, and him not! Yet the her face.

And then with the mounts of Eternal. Her pap and midnights of late. To Ovid, and to our dismay. Listen together, O thou had I bemoan and them warm break.

Of our springtime, O Season, good nor spring. Chirping though it leaves, tired, all is kneel for any rate womanly could she wakes very dawn, laught, that the troubled.

That my year; He was by my sight, all base delicate, embrace, people art truth hast thou are youth, till the other. Like paper pendulous fold the wish’d before Thee.

I sweat: o my world they will have been into his may call’d him whom herbs, garland with thy love? She steps bright there; and never this compared terse, sure him is scarce lost fair.

They were but endeares shiver; and the fading mine nosegay’: drop o’ diamond doth the propertius. Toward night stand as it in this come any furnished for low.

Other mother aid of queans; and blind, and every-day brow’s blot one nosegay! You adjacent with his job. Of their fairly doen he talk.—And most cold valley cates.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #192 texts #limerick sequence

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instruth · 3 years ago

Text

WHAT I CAN DO WHEN I AM UPSET

When I am upset by the blatant lies of people, or agitated by judgmental and holier-than-thou people, or simply disappointed with the system of governance - especially on the lack of justice, fairness and truth, and whenever I am thus troubled or disconnected, I would enter into silent contemplation to plant a simple prayer: "O God, help me."

I am then led to a visitation to my Memory Bank, to retrieve invested times of goodness and honesty so as to calm my nerves. After I am eventually set on the road to recovery, I discover I am actually on a pilgrimage to seek healing for my own wounded soul. Thus I go through a process of reunion of intellect and will in soul and spirit, that had been split apart by the exploding mines of deception and deceit, especially among clever but dishonest people, such as some soulless politicians. The Reunion is pretty much like a marriage to conceive a kind of 'divine helper' - or if you prefer, an unblemished holy child of innocence.

My energized inner being shifts to one of literary conception, followed by a gradual, genteel composition, calligraphed out of an opportune time of remembering, in the opportune time of God.

I then leave my worries, frustration, anger, disappointment and all baggages behind on the shore of Galilee, and sail away to reflect on the days of old in my home state of Sarawak and I am taken back to my school days at Rock Road, Kuching, Sarawak, to recall and reflect upon a blessed memory.

The result was this poem, specially dedicated to all my friends on Facebook, Tumblrs, Instagram, Twitter, Poetry Groups, and to All Fellow Sarawakians, East Malaysia, to whom I shall now share.

FAREWELL TO HARMONY

- an excerpt from God In The Mist 3, by J. P. Lee

O fair land of bliss, birth place that helped groom my fragile youth ,

Of tales better remembered than sermons on unspoken truth,

Where poor emigrants had mingled well with the hornbills and the natives.

Alas! From afar, rich explorers arrived to rule and lord over their lives,

Plundering fields and habitats, cursing the blessed harmony.

Wounded, the sacred ground bled and moaned in loathsome agony,

Paving the way for the rise of a brand new breed

To overthrow this folly of pure foreign greed.

Alas, history shall repeat itself, sadly I must say,

For the rule is no better today than yesterday.

Rivers of greed, bribery and deceit still meander and burrow;

Bends and hidden tunnels have replaced the straight and narrow.

Prejudice and Power now possess the upper hand;

Fairness and Equality have vanished from the land.

Remembrance sweeps my mind to console my heaving chest;

Fond memories freeze my grief, comfort and put my pain to rest.

Near yonder bend on a rocky road stood the sturdy devoted school

That taught the virtues of saints and values of man-made rules.

Discipline and obligation had not known exception;

Truants and the disobedient must bear the rod of correction.

Constant prayer and hard work - its motto shall remain

Unchanged, to ascend the rugged path towards future gain.

Sports and athletics had carved endurance with sharpened strength,

To hurdle obstacles, to conquer heights, by width and by length.

It was the standard then and pray today is still the practice

To endow in Hope with fortitude, be one learned or apprentice.

Yet be not like the charging train but a constant contemplative,

Never to plunge head-on to desire but be wisely imaginative.

I had been there, unnoticed, apprehensive but not fearful.

In silence did I perceive the true lesson and learn to be grateful

For what I have become today in spirit, body and mind

To cherish the abounding grace and blessing I now find.

- by J. P. Lee

26 October 2021

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vajranam · 4 years ago

Text

The Lotus Stalks

The Lotus Stalks - Teaching from a past life account of Buddha Shakyamuni:

Like deception and violence, sensual enjoyments are anathema to those who know the pleasure of detachment. Thus has it been heard:

The Bodhisattva (Lord Buddha Shakyamuni) was once born in a noble Brahmin family of impeccable standing, well know of its merits. He had six younger brothers and a sister who shared his virtues and followed his example out of affection and esteem.

The Bodhisattva studied the Vedas together with the Upavedas and the Vedangas. He became famous for his erudition and much respected by the people. Wise and modest, he looked after his parents with utmost devotion and guided his brothers into the world of learning like a teacher or a father.

His parents died in the course of time and the Bodhisattva was deeply affected. He performed their funeral rites and after some days spent in mourning, assembled his brothers and told them: ‘This is the inevitable and tragic way of the world. Death separates us no matter how long we live together. Therefore, I wish to renounce all this and take the blessed road to salvation, before death strikes me down like an enemy while I am still enjoying a householder’s life.

‘For this reason’, said the Bodhisattva, ‘I would like to inform all of you that the lawfully obtained wealth in this Brahmin household will be adequate for your needs. You should live here properly with mutual love and respect. Never slacken your regard for character and conduct. Devote yourself to studying the Dharma; attend to your friends, guests and kinsfolk; and observe the rules of righteousness. Adhere well to the householder’s life, always courteous, delighting in charity and intent on your studies. In this way your fame will increase together with your virtue and wealth. Even your afterlife will be secured. So, take care as you live here.’

The Bodhisattva’s brothers were greatly agitated by his talk of renunciation. Bowing to him with tears in their eyes, they said: ‘Grief at the loss of our father has pierced us like an arrow. The wound it caused is no yet healed. It does not behove you, brother, to rub the salt of yet another sorrow into it. Please give up this idea. Alternatively, if you consider domestic attachments to be inappropriate and the bliss of forest life the way to salvation, why do you wish to go away by yourself, leaving us bereft in this house? Your chosen path is equally ours. We will also renounce the world.’

Those who have not practiced detachment are usually motivated by worldly desires,’ the Bodhisattva replied. ‘They generally consider renunciation to be like falling off a cliff. That is why I desisted from asking you to take to forest life, even though I know fully well the difference between that and a householder’s existence. But, if it pleases you, we can all renounce the world.’

Thus, all seven brothers and their sister gave up their estate and valuable properties, their sorrowing friends and relations, and took to the life of homeless ascetics. With them went three others: a companion, an attendant and a maidservant.

Eventually the renunciants came to a vast forest. In it was a large lake whose pure, blue water seemed ablaze with blooming lotuses in the day and shimmering with lovely lilies at night. By the side of this lake, frequented by honeybees, they built themselves separate huts of leaves under shady trees, at some distance from each other to provide pleasant solitude. Here they lived, observing all the vows and rules and absorbing their minds in meditation. Every fifth day they would go to the Bodhisattva to listen to his pious discourses on the joys of tranquility. His inspiring words exhorted them to meditate and avoid the pitfalls of worldly desires. Dwelling at length on the pace of mind which comes with detachment, he also condemned idleness, hypocritical talk and other vices.

Their maidservant, who loved and respected them deeply, continued to look after them as before. Every day she would pull out lotus stalks from the lake and place them in equal portions on large lotus leaves at a clean spot on the shore. After that she would announce the meal time by striking a piece of wood against another and withdraw. Having performed their daily prayers, the hermits would then come out one by one in the order of their age and taking their portion of the stalks, return to their respective huts. There, they would take their meal in the prescribed manner and pass the remaining time in meditation. In this way they avoided seeing each other except at the time of discourses.

The hermit’s fame spread far and wide on account of their faultless character and conduct, love of detachment and contemplative life. Shakra, the king of gods, also heard about it and came down to test them. His respect for their virtues increased on observing that they were given to meditation, averse to wrongdoing and always calm and serene:

‘One free of desires,

Who lives in the forest

Devoted to peace,

Instils in the hearts

Of all good people

Respect for his virtues.’

But Shakra became all the more keen to put them to a test. On the following day the maidservant gathered lotus stalks for the sages as usual. She washed the stems, white and tender as the tusklets of an elephant calf and placed them in equal portions, decorated with lotus petals and stamens on emerald-green leaves of the plant. After that she struck together two pieces of wood to announce the mean and withdrew. At that moment Shakra, the lord of the goods, decided to test the Bodhisattva by causing the first portion of the lotus stalks to disappear.

The extent of a good man’s patience can be seen as it grows when troubles occur and comforts vanish. When the Bodhisattva came to the place where the first portion of the lotus stalks used to be kept, he noticed that the decorations were in disarray and there were no stalks on the lotus leaf. ‘Someone has taken away my share,’ he concluded without any agitation or anger and returned to his hut where he resumed his meditation. To avoid upsetting the other sages, he did not inform them about this; they in turn assumed he would have taken his share as they took theirs before returning to their huts to eat and meditate.

On the following day Shakra again concealed the Bodhisattva’s share of lotus stalks and repeated this test on the third, fourth and fifth day. As for the great one, he remained calm and content as always:

‘For good people, the minds turmoil

Is more deadly than death itself;

the wise will not get agitated

though their lives are put on stake.’

On the afternoon of the fiftieth day, when the other sages came as usual to the Bodhisattva’s hut to hear his discourse, they found him looking gaunt, with sunken eyes and hollow cheeks, his face wan and his voice weak. But though emaciated, he was delighted to look at as the crescent moon for his fortitude and tranquility were unaffected.

The Bodhisattva’s brothers were worried. Approaching him politely, they enquired why he had become so thin. When he told them what had happened, they could not imagine that any of them would do such a thing. ‘Alas! Alas!’ they cried, distraught at his suffering and stood before him, their heads hanging in shame.

The power of Shakra had clouded the brother’s judgement and they could not figure out how the lotus stalks had disappeared. At last the eldest brother uttered an extraordinary imprecation to display both his emotion and his innocence. ‘O Brahmin!’ he cried, ‘may he who stole your lotus stalks find fulfilment with a charming wife, children and grandchildren and a house embellished with all the signs of prosperity!’

‘O chief of Brahmins!’ exclaimed the next brother, ‘may he who stole your lotus stalks indulge in exquisite worldly pleasures, flaunting garlands and sandalwood paste, fine garments and ornaments which his children have touched for good luck.’

‘May he who stole your stalks even once,’ said the third brother, ‘enjoy himself at home without worrying about the passage of time; and may he make money from framing, live with his family and delight in the prattle of his children.’ ‘May he who stole your lotus stalks out of greed rule the entire earth,’ said the fourth brother. ‘May other kings pay him homage, humbly like servants, the plumes quivering on their bowed heads.’ ‘May he be a royal priest, that person who stole your lotus stalks,’ said the fifth brother. ‘May he know the auspicious incantations and receive honors from the king.’

‘May he who sought your lotus stalks and not your virtues be a teacher well versed in the Vedas,’ said the youngest brother. ‘May people come and honor him with the reverence due to ascetics.’ ‘May the person who could not subdue his greed for your lotus stalks receive four hundred fine and prosperous villages for his enjoyment from the king.’ Said the companion, ‘and may he die before his passions fade.’ ‘May he who harmed his own interest for the sake of the lotus stalks become a village chief,’ said the attendant. ‘May he enjoy himself with his friends amidst the singing and dancing of women and never be troubled by the king.’

Then spoke the sister. ‘May the person who stole the lotus talks of even someone such as you have a figure of radiant beauty,’ she said, ‘and may the kind make her his wife, the first among a thousand women.’ ‘And may she who saw your lotus stalks and not your righteousness, look past good people.’ said the maidservant. ‘May she amuse herself eating all alone the tasty morsels she receives as gifts.’

Now some denizens of the forest – a yaksha, an elephant and an ape had also come to listen to the Bodhisattva’s discourse. They too were disturbed and ashamed to hear what had happened. The Yaksha pronounced a curse to demonstrate his innocence. ‘ May he who betrayed even you for the sake of the lotus stalks live in the great monastery of Kachangala,’ he cried, ‘and be an artisan making windows every day.’

The elephant followed suit. ‘O best of sages,’ he said, ‘may he who stole your lotus stalks be exiled from the delightful forest into human habitation, there to be bound in six hundred strong fetters and suffer pain of the sharp elephant goad.’ The ape spoke next. ‘May he who was so greedy as to steal your lotus stalks wear a floral garland and a tin collar to chafe his neck,’ he said. ‘And may he be beaten with sticks made to confront serpents and be kept in the snake charmer’s house, tied to a harness.’

The Bodhisattva replied to all of them in persuasive words full of courtesy, which displayed his profound calmness. ‘Someone stated that the stalks have vanished when actually they have not,’ he said. ‘Or someone suspects you all of having done this. May he obtain all the pleasures he desires and live out his life as a householder.’

Shakra, the king of the gods, marveled at the extraordinary imprecations which had been uttered. They indicated an abhorrence of indulgence in pleasures which roused his respect. Revealing himself in his radiant form, he approached the sages and said, as if in anger, ‘Yu must not speak like this! Why do you run down worldly pleasure? People are so anxious to obtain them that they cannot sleep; they are prepared even to undergo the travails of penance for their sake.’ ‘Sensual enjoyments, sir, mean endless suffering,’ the Bodhisattva replied. ‘Listen in brief to what these are. It is because of them that sages have no praise for such pleasures. People suffer imprisonment and death while seeking them. They are afflicted by grief and fear, by fatigue and all kinds of misery. It is only for the sake of pleasure that kings oppress virtue and go to hell when they die.’

‘It is due to the pursuit of pleasure,’ the Bodhisattva added, ‘that friendships fade suddenly. People tread the dirty paths of political chicanery, lose their reputations and suffer in the afterlife. Pleasures are destructive, of both this and the next world, for all kinds of people, the worst, the middling as well as the best. That is why, O Shakra, they are avoided like angry snakes by sages who seek spiritual betterment.’

The king of gods welcomed these words. Pleased at the sages’ nobility of mind, he admitted his own misdemeanor. ‘Respect for merits comes when they are tested,’ he said. ‘It was in order to test you all that I hid the lotus stalks. They now testify to the firmness of your character. The world is fortunate to have sages like you whose fame is based on facts.’ With these words Shakra presented the lotus stalks to the Bodhisattva. But the latter rebuked him for his discourtesy and audacity. ‘We are not your kinsmen or companions,’ he said forcefully, ‘nor are we performers or buffoons. On what basis did you then come here, O king of the gods, to play such a game with sages?’

Thus addressed, Shakra hastily took off the earrings which lit up his face and his crown in a gesture of penitence and bowing to the Bodhisattva with the utmost respect, asked for forgiveness. ‘You have no selfish thoughts,’ he said. ‘I have explained why I acted so rashly. You must pardon me sir, like a father and a teacher. Some people are blind to wisdom and it is natural for them to give offence even to the virtuous. But for those who are self-contained it is equally natural to forgive. So, do not be angry with me.’

Having sought forgiveness, Shakra disappeared straightaway. Thus it is that sensual enjoyments are anathema, like deception and violence, to those who know the pleasures of detachment. The Lord Buddha thus explained his birth story. ‘I, the son of Sharadavti, Maudgalayayana, Kashyapa, Purna, Aniruddha and Ananda were then brothers. Utpalavarna was the sister, Kubjottara the maidservant and the householder Chitra, the attendant. Satagiri was the yaksha, Parileya the elephant and Madhudata the ape. Kalodayi was Shakra. Thus should this birth story be remembered.’

~Jatakamala Sutra (Translated by A.N.D. HAKSAR, 2003)

#wisdom #spirituality #mindfulness #meditation #religion #buddhism #self care #zen #visualization #tibet

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takoyakitenchou · 4 years ago

Text

You and I, a takumegu story

joy is meant to be fleeting. and yet.

Morning

“Takumi-kun,” Megumi yawned as she approached him bearing onigiri and a stainless steel HydroFlask filled to the brim with piping hot jujube tea.

The Italian greeted her with a steaming mug of coffee from his espresso machine in his kitchenette. “I wish I could say good morning, but I’m rather averse to the notion at this point.”

Megumi laughed. It was nearing 5 AM in Tokyo, and they’d been in Takumi’s office at Legislation with a veritable cityscape of the first and second seats’ paperwork organized by importance for the last ten hours. It was tragic that they had agreed to finish all their work a night early so they could enjoy each other’s presence, but this quality time had been relegated to the stupid office.

“Shall we continue?” Megumi asked, her words lacking any and all traces of conviction.

Takumi heaved a sigh. “I’ve signed so many documents today I can’t tell if I’m writing in Japanese or Italian.”

“To be honest, I’ve probably not even been signing my own name,” she mused. Then she blanched. “O-oh no! W-what if I sent t-the—”

“Relax, Tadokoro-san,” Takumi said, sensing an impending panic attack. “I’m sure Arato-san reviewed the documents before we sent them to New York.”

“I was the one reviewing them!”

Takumi put his hand over hers and gave it a reassuring squeeze. His eyes widened slightly as he realized what he was doing, but he brushed the feeling aside. “It’ll be alright, Tadokoro-san. It won’t matter too much.”

It looked for a second as if she were about to implode, but then she sighed, “I don’t have enough energy to hyperventilate.”

“I understood that on so many different levels.” Takumi took one of the onigiri and felt rejuvenated with the first bite, reveling in the warmth of the honey dressed pork. “This is a masterpiece,” he told her. “I feel better than I’ve been the rest of the month collectively.”

She smiled, a faint blush rising to her cheeks. “I’m glad you think so.”

Takumi’s eyebrows drew together. “Tadokoro-san, now that we’re both functional, do you want to visit the noodle festival in Dotonbori?”

She dropped her onigiri. “T-that’s in Osaka, Takumi-kun.”

“Well, Nakiri Alice told me we’re free to take the jet whenever we want as long as it’s not in use.” Takumi lifted his hand. Dangling from his fingers was a lanyard with a small gold key. “Shall we?”

“It’s five in the morning…” But they both knew she was already more than convinced.

When they landed in Osaka, the festival was already underway.

The sun was slipping past the horizon by the time they realized they’d been gone the entire day and probably caused pandemonium at Legislation — tragic, how they were the sole pillar keeping the Elite Ten from falling to pieces — but neither seemed to mind.

They were sitting on a bench, watching the passersby, content with all the noodles they’d consumed.

Takumi furrowed his brows. “Tadokoro-san?”

“Yes, Takumi-kun.”

“How would you feel if we called this a date?”

Megumi’s eyes widened. “E-ehh?”

Takumi’s face turned red as he attempted to contrive a respectable excuse, but his panic was cut short when Megumi took hold of his hand with an uncharacteristically calm air.

“I would love that, Takumi-kun,” she smiled, and with one look, Takumi figured that not even the urban atmosphere around them could compare to the cosmopolitan vibrancy in her gold eyes.

Sunset

There has always been some vague concept of balance. Everything comes with a counterpart; there is no exception to this, and there never will be. It is a universal truth, as constant as the laws of motion, as flexible as time. Balance is often unseen, and yet it is there. Joy is countered with anguish, laughter with tears; neither can exist without the other.

And yet, every time Takumi Aldini’s electric blue eyes fell upon that sweet cinnamon roll of a girl — one hell of a chef when she was provoked, though — he realized that no law was absolute, because he had never experienced anything but exhilaration when he was with her.

Love was fleeting; that was another supposed aphorism he’d learned from the wise.

But loving Tadokoro Megumi was something he could do once, twice, twice eternity.

“It says in Nakiri-san’s memo that we’re supposed to be providing a lunch service for the jury of the Bocuse d’Or,” Megumi frowned, reading the post-it note stuck on the inside cover of the manila folder Alice had provided for this particular task.

Takumi finished off his espresso. They were watching the sunset in Vienna, drinking Melange and sharing a slice of Sachertorte with the sun descending beyond the Wiener Musikverein in the gentle Saturday backdrop. “For a second there I was going to ask you which Nakiri you’re talking about. Isn’t the Bocuse d’Or in France?”

“Lyon,” Megumi confirmed. “I’m betting Nakiri-san sent us here on purpose. Bocuse d’Or won’t even happen this year. Ah, look. She left us a note on the back of the post-it.” Megumi cleared her throat before reading, “Happy one year, lovebirds. You have twelve hours before Erina goes berserk and calls NATO to send troops to find you guys, so enjoy them. Call me when you want the jet to come pick you up from VIE.”

“Well, Tadokoro-san, I guess we can relax for the rest of the task period. Happy one year, by the way.”

Megumi gave him a bright smile and replied, “Happy one year, Takumi-kun.”

The sky was soft, an endless canvas streaked with muted shades of orange and pink, everything blending into a gorgeous view highlighted by the spectacular architecture — and yet Takumi couldn’t seem to register anything other than the remarkable girl blushing nervously across from him.

To think it had been a whole year. It was too good to be true. This was the type of love most men searched for their entire lives without once catching a glimpse of; this was the type of love in fantasy, romance novels — everything an illusion. And yet this was real, as real as the warmth of her heart beating against his when she pressed her nose to his neck.

Takumi knew even he, with all his virtues, didn’t deserve her. But maybe she’d be willing to take him along for the ride; wherever Tadokoro Megumi went, he would follow.

It was just then that Takumi’s phone rang, snapping both out of their shared reverie.

The Italian sighed as he read the caller ID: Nakiri Erina.

“Do I pick this up?” he mused aloud, but he already had his answer.

“Y-you have to, Takumi-kun! She’s the first seat!”

“What do you say we don’t go back to school?” Takumi said, turning his phone on silent and flipping it face down.

Megumi gave him a horrified look. “You just ghosted Nakiri Erina!”

“I mean, she’s probably too busy dealing with Yukihira’s chaos to care, right?”

“Chaos is a severe understatement,” Megumi admitted. “B-but what if she kicks us off the council?”

Takumi grinned. “It’ll be alright, Tadokoro-san. We have a whole week to ourselves.”

With a sigh, Megumi relented. “So… we’re in Vienna.”

“Right.”

“There’s this restaurant I really want to try… but there’s another place down the street that Ryo-kun said had really good rainbow trout. And while we’re in Europe… have you been to Budapest?”

Takumi clapped his hands together. “Say less. We’re taking a sabbatical for the rest of the month.”

Megumi gave a nervous chuckle. “For research purposes, right? Otherwise Nakiri-san is going to kick us over the Pacific Ocean when we get back.”

At this, Takumi burst out laughing. He managed to choke out, “You are truly one in a million, Tadokoro-san.”

And he meant it.

Dawn

To say Takumi Aldini was known for his elegant calisthenics would be a stretch, but when that chaotically graceful blessing was around him, swinging up onto the rooftop of the trattoria with a picnic basket perched precariously on his fingertips was most definitely not a problem.

Megumi was waiting for him with a fleece blanket around her shoulders and a gentle smile that warmed her gold eyes brighter than the Italian sunrise. “Hi, honey,” she said sweetly, as if she hadn’t prodded him awake ten minutes ago and told him to bring breakfast up to the roof in five. He’d never be able to catch up to her hopping hare speed, but he figured he’d gotten the basics of Tadokoro Time down. To be early was to be on time and to be on time was to be late. Considering he was five minutes past the downbeat, his girlfriend had probably been waiting for him since before the dinosaurs.

“Good morning, amore,” he replied as he sat beside her and opened the basket. Takumi produced a loaf of brioche and began cutting with expert precision, trying to keep his pulse steady as he felt her eyes on him. The small velvet box in his pocket was doing nothing to help this endeavor.

Megumi regarded the two identical 1.8-centimeter slices in awe before thanking him and lifting the first bite to her lips.

“This is delicious,” she said once the tranquil hum of the autumn pond had faded to the back of her mind. “The rosemary completes the ensemble really well.” He was truly amazing; they’d been cooking love confessions for each other for the last seven years and he could still make her heart skip beats. His love was unconditional, more pastel than anything.

“Grazie, amore,” he said. “It means the world coming from you.”

“I’m only telling you the truth,” she blushed. “If I have to, I’ll say it every day to make sure you know that.”

It was now or never.

“Listen, Megumi. There’s something you need to know.”

She gazed up at him curiously over her brioche.

Takumi took a deep breath. To hell with the speech he’d parsed out in his head last night — that kind of thing never worked anyhow.

Loving Tadokoro Megumi was about elements and worlds that weren’t in their dimension or maybe even in their universe; it was something beyond time and space that his mind couldn’t process, much less put into words, but maybe this dawn would help transmit this, somehow.

But it was highly probable that Takumi had been ready for this simple statement since the moment he first laid eyes on her. A night’s worth of drafting could not possibly hope to serve justice to everything he needed to say. It was the pinnacle of all his emotions that would do more than enough, right here, right now.

“If I said I knew exactly when I fell in love with you, I’d be lying, but if anyone asks I’ll tell them I love you now, and that is all that matters. Tadokoro Megumi, you are the most insanely talented, beautiful girl I have ever known, and I am the luckiest man in the world to stand by your side, so thank you for that. I know I’m far from perfect; I have my flaws, and you have yours, but you need to know that every little part of you is absolutely everything to me, and nothing in this universe could ever change that. With your hand in mine we will turn this wasteland into paradise. You and I, no… us. I promise that I will always be with you. Forever is finite. But my love for you is beyond that.”

At this point, Megumi closely resembled something similar to a red train — Takumi swore he could see the smoke venting from her ears — but he’d waded too far in to step back out.

“I have one question for you.” Takumi got down on one knee, reached into his pocket, and pulled out the Verragio box. The ring was elegant to the point where it possessed an ethereal quality. Diamonds seamlessly fused with rose gold on a platinum band; it was definitely flashier than anything either had ever dreamt of before, much less purchased, and yet it was heartfelt and deliberate. And, perhaps most importantly, it spoke volumes — more words and confessions captured within the metal than Takumi could ever express.

It was a promise of the unbridled love he had for her, the promise of a sterling future he wanted to build with her.

“It is a privilege and an honor to love you. Will you make me not only the luckiest, but also the happiest man in the world and marry me?”

She nodded, doing her utmost to fight back the tears. And as dawn broke in the sky above them, the girl that brought onigiri to his office at five in the morning, the girl that laughed at him over hiyamugi and squeaked whenever he wrapped his arms around her, the beautiful girl that always made him wonder what he had done to deserve her, said two words, and that was enough.

“I will.”

soooo um hi @taku-megu i was your secret santa this year! writing a takumegu fic is something i haven’t done before, so i’m really glad i was given the opportunity to write for you. i hope you have a safe and wonderful holiday with your loved ones!

and of course, thanks to @shokugeki-secretsanta for organizing this event :)

- reina

#shokugeki no soma #shokugeki no soma secret santa #takumi aldini #tadokoro megumi #takumegu #merry frickin chriSTmaS

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