#ah yes the repeating cycles of life and death seems to be the theme for these answers

[nukacourier]

14, 16 for James please 🥺

What is their fondest memory?

Nearly answered with something from the Vault, but honestly those memories probably aren't very fond to him anymore

So his fondest memory would probably be when he held his daughter for the first time

What is their biggest regret?

He has a lot. But the main ones would be the fact he was annoyed with his dad and had an argument with him shortly before he died. It's something that will haunt him for his entire life. He's never even told anyone because he holds a lot of shame over it, and it's just genuinely too painful for him to talk about

[xhaotixaesthetica]

Property of the Pirate King

 Starlink Intergalactic Navigator 

READ THE TRIGGER WARNING: This post contains abuse, abusive relationships, threats, violence, major character death, kidnap, human slavery, emotional manipulation, disturbing sexual themes, and profanity. The behaviors and relationships depicted below are abusive and unhealthy. These are not examples of healthy relationships, it’s actually the opposite. This is meant to imagine the members of Ateez in a popular anime trope and it in no way represents their real-life personalities and characters. Real-life ATEEZ are actually known for being some of the kindest, most respectful idols in the industry. It’s fiction, it’s for fun, PLEASE DON’T READ IT IF YOU KNOW YOU WON’T LIKE IT OR THIS KIND OF STUFF DISTURBS YOU!

Author’s Note: @zafira-profundis​ Thanks so much for requesting and liking my work, you’re my second ever request and I love you :3 I didn’t feel qualified to make the reader fully blind, because I’m not and I don’t know enough about it. So I compromised and gave them really bad eyesight, but it doesn’t come up much in the story. I’m not particularly happy with this, but I really tried my best and I hope everything else is in line with your request and you enjoy the story!

Genre: Angst

Word Count: 3.1K+

You are in: The Golden Wasteland Star System 

Every second that you spent at Lord Yang’s side was like agony to San.

He hated the way he would touch you. Hated the way he put his disgusting mouth on you and give you sloppy, wet kisses full of tongue that you obviously didn’t want but were unable to refuse.

Ever since Lord Yang bought you two years ago from a group of sketchy, no-name traders on the eastern border of his sand land, all San wanted to do was lock you up and have you for himself.

Like him, you were born a slave. Beaten and weary from everyone who’d ever owned you and all the people who’d tried to take advantage of your impaired eyesight. San was trained to kill and fight for his master since before he could walk while you were a personal slave, bound to serve the needs of your master, whatever they may be.

The desert lands that you were born into were scorching, exhausting, and ripe with death, evil, and danger, things that San was well familiar with.

But you...you were like the moon to him. Like a cool oasis in the nighttime. Just seeing you calmed him down and gave him the strength to survive another day.

You never talked to him. There were few words you ever said and few people you ever spoke to. And somehow, you still managed to be the object of San’s obsessions. The thing he’d chosen to latch onto in his mind’s last-ditch effort to stay sane in these hellish sand-dunes.

San stands ram-rod straight, a posture that was beaten into him long ago, in the doorway of one of Lord Yang’s many parlor rooms while you sit in Lord Yang’s lap, both of you bored and stiff after so long of hearing the old men converse with one another on various sordid business affairs.

Your eyes are glassy and far away as you try to ignore your master’s fingers rubbing slow, sickening circles onto the bone of your hip.

San stares at you out of his peripheral vision, something he’s gotten very good at in the last two years.

It’s any other day: hot, stifling, and miserable until San hears the words fall from his master’s lips.

“Gentlemen, I’ve come to a decision that it would benefit me to sell some of my pets. As a token of my respect to our close business relationship, I’m offering you first pick.”

You showed no movement. You’d been sold many times before and you were used to owners growing bored of their playthings and exchanging them for newer, more amusing ones until the cycle would repeat itself again.

San, however, was very on-edge.

He’d feared these words since the day his master bought you. But you’d been here for two years. Longer than any of his other slaves.

He’d just assumed that, like him, you were there to stay.

Surely, Lord Yang couldn’t mean that he was selling you?

Oblivious to the dilemma of the killer in the corner of the room, the five other men hummed appreciatively. “Which ones are you looking to get rid of?”

It was rare for you and San to ever make eye-contact, but it happened at that moment. You both knew. You could feel it in your bones.

“Ah, the older ones. Momo, Aisha, Yunho, Y/N, and a couple of others.”

With those few words, San could feel his heart sink to the pit of his stomach. If it hadn’t been for his years of training in mastering his facial expressions and body language, he would have crumpled to the floor and cried.

You were leaving him. You were being sold and you would leave him.

“They’re still young, very pretty. They’d fetch a fine price. They’ve just been with me for too long. I’ve grown tired of them.”

San decided right then and there that he’d kill every single man in this room.

No one would ever buy you again.

He’d kill them all and take you with him.

He couldn’t be without you, he just couldn’t.

Without his oasis, he’d die. He’d burn to death from the inside out in this wretched, wicked wasteland.

San had always been Lord Yang’s favorite. He was faithful and loyal. His duality amused him, his normally smiley disposition masking a hidden dark persona that was released when he fought and sometimes at random throughout the day. Plus, the boy had grown up by Lord Yang’s side, learning to protect his master and guard his life before he could even speak.

San was simultaneously like his favorite dog and the son he’d never had.

And San savored the look of betrayal in his eyes when they shot open in the middle of the night, right after San had taken his blade to his throat.

The same blade that had been the demise of so many at his master’s bidding, was now his undoing.

The night air was cooler, the sand still warm under your feet from the heat of the day as you trailed behind San.

You didn’t know how he’d managed to do it. To kill not only your master, but five other powerful men without any of their bodyguards being alerted and still find time to steal water, provisions, and equipment for the long journey ahead.

San’s first priority was you and he knew he might not be able to sneak you out if he tried to wake and free every single slave. So he settled for freeing you, Yunho, Mina, and Aisha.

Mina and Aisha went in separate directions at the beginning. They, like Yunho, were stolen and were not born slaves. They had families to return to and mouths to feed.

Yunho trailed alongside you and San for about an hour before he, too, had to diverge his path from yours.

Yunho had been a slave for three years and you hoped with all your heart that he reunited with his mother and younger brother, Jongho, even after so long.

You and San were the only ones with no home to return to.

You didn’t know where he was taking you and you hadn’t asked, but you suspected he was trying to escape the desert.

Few people had ever made it that far, but there were plenty of tales to tempt them. Tales of lands with an abundance of water and plants. Where there were no sand lords like the late Lord Yang and people were free, without being slaves.

You doubted that there even was anything beyond the sand lands, but you were willing to try. You had a better chance of surviving with San than you did by yourself, and it’s not like you had anywhere else to be.

Days passed with the consistent cycle of sleeping during the day and traveling at night with meals and water in between.

It was tough getting used to San being so close to you. You were used to his bright smile and bubbly disposition and random fits of anger and silence from two years of serving the same master, but it was different experiencing it up close.

You were the only ones you had to talk to now and San’s chatter never ceased, you didn’t even know what he had to talk about, you were both in the desert for god’s sake.

But as annoying as he could get, you much preferred this San to the one that would make an appearance sometimes. That rarer San was quieter, yes, but he stared at you with the hunger of a predator, licking his lips like you were something to eat.

As the days dragged on, you were beginning to think you were right.

You and San passed sand land after sand land, not seeming to be any closer to getting out of this scorching hell-hole.

But the more towns you passed and the more black and white flags with orange stripes that you two saw, you were beginning to have other things on your minds. There wasn’t a single person in any part of this desert that didn’t have their blood turn cold at the sight of those flags.

They’re the mark of Ateez and the Pirate King.

If there was anyone’s territory you didn’t want to be caught in, it was the Pirate King’s.

“It’s ok,” San said one day as you both laid in a sand cave to get some rest. You were too far from a sand land to find an inn and even though you were very exposed like this, there was no other option. This was better than getting second-degree burns under the hot sun.

“I’ll protect you,” he told you with a bright smile and a giggle before turning over.

You weren’t so convinced, lying awake for at least a couple of hours before you finally managed to fall into a restless slumber.

There was a bounty on San’s head for the six important men he killed, and most likely one on yours too for running off with him. If the Pirate King decided to turn you both in for the money, you didn’t stand much of a chance.

San was an outstanding fighter, but he was still just one man. Every man has their limitations.

San, as you would come to find, did not know his.

“How many kids do you think we’ll have?” he asked one day at one of the rare oases you’d been able to find.

You paused from where you were washing off some of the sand and grime that was quick to build upon your skin.

Had you just heard him correctly?

“I....I don’t want kids,” you said quietly. Not here, in this cruel desert wasteland. You’d never bring a child here to have them ripped away from you and sold off, as so many were. And you certainly wouldn’t have one with San.

The minute the words escaped your mouth, you could tell that his entire demeanor changed, even without being able to really see much more than the blurry blob of his frame at this distance.

His eyes seemed to be darker and his movements a bit jerkier as he looked at you blankly before a smirk slowly spread across his lips.

“We’ll have three. Yeah, three’s a good number. And the first son will be named after me.”

You said nothing as San switched modes again, voice soft and melodious once more as he went back to washing his hair.

You knew that whenever you two reached your destination, you had to find a way to get away from him.

The longer you stayed with him, the more delusional he seemed to become.

The first time you see the Pirate King’s face is a few days later when you wake up and see him leaning over you with a smirk.

It’s hard to make out any of the details of his face when you pair your fear with your strained and impaired eyesight, but the one thing you so recognize is his hair. It’s an intense blue, the color of the ocean it’s rumored he sailed on from the island of his birth.

“Hello kitten,” he drawled.

You looked frantically around the sand cave that you and San had decided to camp out in for the night.

He was nowhere to be seen.

And neither was the cave. Or the clothes you’d been in.

You were in a lavish room, your body decked out in fine silks and sparkling jewelry. Things you’d wear when you were in the presence of your slave owner.

How long had you been asleep? How had he done all this without you noticing? What had he done to San?

“S-San,” you sputtered out to him, unable to see the way his expression darkened at the name. “Where’s San?”

“Don’t worry about him, love,” he said, the underlying tone of malice and warning in his voice made you tremble.

“I’ve been watching you for the past couple of days. I know who he is and what he’s done. If I left you with him, you’d be running in circles the rest of your life, sleeping in caves and wondering where your next meal was going to come from as you tried to avoid the bounty hunters that want to bring the sand lords San’s head on a silver platter.”

He was closer now, so close you actually see how dark his eyes were as he caressed your cheek.

“You deserve more than that, kitten. Now that you’re mine, you’ll have everything that you could ever want.”

Everything but being away from you, you whispered in your mind, not daring to speak the words aloud.

Being a sand lord’s slave was one thing, but the Pirate King...You’d heard of the things this man has done, the atrocities he’s committed. The Pirate King is a monster.

His world was a lawless, bloody web of death, chaos, and misery that you could never escape from.

You thought escaping from Lord Yang was a good thing, but if this was where it landed you then you desperately wished you could take it all back.

And what of your traveling companion?

He was a mad man but he’d risked his life protecting you on multiple occasions and you were scared of what would happen if you were left along with the man in front of you for even a second longer.

“I want to see San,” you whispered with all the courage you had welled inside of you, eyes squeezed shut and already flinching away from Hongjoong’s reaction.

It was silent for a beat before he scoffed, ignoring your yelp of shock as he hauled you to your feet.

“OK, kitten. Let’s go see San.” he laughed, a cruel sound that made you feel like hail beating against your ears.

You were halfway out of the door when a force suddenly slammed you against the doorway. It was Hongjoong, eyes glaring at you, dark and cold and furious. His hand was locked around your throat, cutting off your oxygen supply, his grip so tight that you felt your feet start to lift from the ground.

His voice was sugary sweet, words far too slow for the rate at which your lungs were starting to burn.

“I’ll let you have this one thing, kitten. You don’t know me and I haven’t trained you yet, so it’s ok.”

Your nails dug into his skin, a fruitless attempt to get him off of you but he just kept going like he didn’t feel it. The sweetness was gone from his voice now. It was cold and monotoned as he slammed you against the wall, your body going limp for a moment at the pain that exploded in your skull.

“I’m your owner. You do what I tell you, understand? From now on, you only want what I say you can want. Do you understand me, kitten?”

You nodded frantically and he let you go, looking at you in disgust as you collapsed in a heap on the floor, gasping for air and whimpering at the pain in your head.

Hongjoong just nudged you impatiently with his foot.

“Get up. You wanted to go see San, remember?”

Hongjoong made you hold his hand as you walked down the many corridors of his palace and you obliged out of fear of both him and all the vile, suspicious characters he seemed to have lurking around his otherwise immaculate architecture.

Minutes passed before you and Hongjoong entered a courtyard in the center of the palace. It was dark and cool, a dome of black glass overhead shielding you from the beaming sun and plants even grew here.

But you didn’t like the way everyone leered at you, whispering about Hongjoong’s new Pirate Queen as he marched you both up to a stone dais where an immaculate golden throne sat on the far side.

It was only once the Pirate King had seated you on his lap and you looked around a little that you realized San lay in chains on the other end of the dais.

Instantly, the thought struck you that the man before you, probably about to be killed, was undoubtedly the one you were better off with.

San knew it too. You couldn’t really see his face, not at this distance, but you could just tell in the way his dark-clad blurry figure moved.

He chuckled darkly as Hongjoong’s guards shuffled him toward the center of the dais. The silhouettes of the tons of people in the room were moving wildly, your ears ringing with cheers as people clapped for the most action they had seen in a while.

They didn’t care that a man was about to die. Death seemed to be the status quo under Hongjoon’s rule, not only an everyday occurrence but a pleasure.

“I love you!” San cackled wildly.

No, you don’t, you wanted to say as tears streamed down your cheeks. You don’t know how to love anything. But you don’t know hate either and that’s why I’m scared for you to leave me here with him. You’re the lesser of two evils.

But nothing would come out.

You were acutely aware of the man whose lap you sat on. You knew he was watching you and you knew you would be already be punished for shedding tears for another man.

As the cheers rose, you were infinitely glad for your terrible vision. You already wished you couldn’t hear, not because of the crowds but because of San’s terrifying laughter as he was pushed onto his knees and surrounding by jeers for his death.

You’d never heard a laugh that sounded so little like a symptom of happiness. San’s laughter was something that could bring the end of days and for a moment you wished it did.

And then it was over.

Not really, they hadn’t killed San yet. It seemed like they were planning on drawing this out as long as possible.

No, the laughter was over. San was crying now. Sobbing. Begging.

“Y/N, I don’t want to leave you!”

“Please help me, it hurts!”

“Don’t let them hurt me, you’re supposed to love me!”

You felt like you couldn’t breathe as you heard his voice, so soft and sweet and sad. So different to the bone-chilling laughter that had just escaped him moments before. He almost sounded like a child. Like someone that even the most cold-hearted of people should never be able to hurt.

But Hongjoong can. And he will.

You didn’t love San and you never had, but he was about to be killed because of Hongjoong’s obsession for you and he was begging you to save him and you just can’t.

“No, no, kitten,” Hongjoong’s hands are rough and not gentle at all as he snaps your head back into position, forcing you to look at the blurry sights of a tall man standing over San’s hunched, chained figure with something long and and shiny.

“You’ll see every detail of his death that you’re able to. After this, you’ll really be mine. The property of the Pirate King.”

The Golden Wasteland Star System 

Starlink Intergalactic Navigator 

[zenosanalytic]

HoXPoX Liveblog: House of X #5

And Now HoX#5! Here Is The Link

On to House of X #5! The cover's a Savage Land variant with a, to me, too skinny Rogue, though as always her Gloves and Boots are On Point. Emma Frost's also there, looking bored/annoyed, sitting on the head of an Apatosaurus 

Opening X Quote Summarized: Mutants were never given a chance, unlike them(humans presumably but we'll see given the trinary organization of man/machine/mutant[the consonance compels me to use a plural noun I dislikeX|])

Mag's summation of the switch to agriculture is a bit rose-colored; in most cases it was also associated with the explosive growth of disease, slavery, war, exploitation, gender stratification, so much else. Also misleading: society has ALWAYS existed... 

...at BEST you can draw a direct line btw ag and cities, but even there it's iffy, given new archaeology suggesting some early, pre-agricultural ritual-site-settlements. Of course he's propagandizing, and Mags rarely says anything that without it serves a purpose.

The quote, as always, seems to be the theme. Mags is talking abt a new gen of mutants not defined by being hunted but by social life/"civilization"(again these arent exclusive) Im thinking this might be a bit New Mutant focused we'll see. 

(oh yeah lots of golds and greens on those pages, so Beginnings/safety again) Ok the eggs WERENT something Krakoa did: they're the product of 5 combined mutant powers! They're Quick-Clone Eggs!! Neat!!! I was hoping to see some powers-derived technology.

Puts a different spin on the opening scene of HoX#1, though; kinda lame to give Xavier visual credit for the work of other mutants, even if it was done to preserve the reveal. They're the one's being "godly" here, not him.

ah ok cool, so Xavier uses Cerebro to copy their minds, then transfers them back into their bodies! HAHA; it really is a reverse of the Machine's concept of Ascension; technology and biological quirk used to preserve&resurrect individuality, rather than subsume it in "perfection"

Philosophically I really love this, as it's in so many way the OPPOSITE of the Platonic Idealism of their enemies(The Sents, The Genetic Puritans). The Mind/Spirit to be preserved is NOT the Perfect Pure One but the Unique Individual...

...and it's not done through the working of One Great Spirit or Machine, but through the Uniqueness of individuals working in Concert. They dont even reject a place for machines given Cerebro's role&Xavier's Cybernetic contribution. Its Full Luxury Mutant Cyborg Socialist Utopia!

and THAT'S just the introduction! The scene continues after the credit-page: Storm is giving a speech and there's some cool symbolism; the sun shining through the pale lavender leaves of the tree-entrance to the resurrection chamber beneath a green sky... 

...A new beginning, knowledge/power/safety, out of death/endings, a a cycle of death broken by a new cycle of death and returned-life. 

In, again, a refashioned echo of the X3 Phalanx scene, where the elder tested Phalanx to see if their knowledge was preserved to see if they were, Storm "tests" the resurrected, asking them personal questions...

...But there the preservation was judge only the individual & faith, here the Preserved speaks for itself; is judged by public witness of their words by those who know and love them best and acclaimed alive again by all. Here is Proof not Belief. Here is Validation not Doubt.

THEYRE GONNA FUCKING RESURRECT THEM ALL HELL YES!!! I love this not only out of a love for the Mutant backlog, but also for how this works on a meta-level: this is declaring Dawn of X, the larger Marvel project, to be an Undoing of Decimation and...

...in discourse with HoX 4, critiquing both Genoa, Decimation, and the corporate impulses behind them(ie, killing lots of mutant to "rationalize" the canon and for shock value) by treating them seriously as in-world traumas.

Nightcrawler is SO SHORT! I LOVE HIM!! Also everyone's touching their naked bodies so correction: Full Luxury Mutant Cyborg Socialist POLYAMOROUS Utopia uvu uvu uvu

and some Infopages recapping how the Resurrection works just to be clear about it(and suggest some interesting possibilities)

Cut to the UN, Xavier and Emma talking about the, Successful, Vote. Frost seems to have Compelled the Russian ambassador to abstain against her government's orders. This is followed by an infopage detailing nations that have rejected Krakoan treaties; Wakanda's a Big one

I wonder if they're going to touch on that in the next few books or if that's something they left for the Dawn of X series. Storm's got a long, friendly history with Wakanda(I think?) and I've never heard of Black Panther being hostile to mutants :?

Cut back to Krakoa; Apoc and his allied mutants are arriving(Marrows with them; I thought she was an XMen? Looking it up it seems there was a vers where the Morlocks were victims of Sinister's experimentation in Apoc's name). 

Building on that, Sinister was with Apoc's group. They have a long association but he was behind the "database" for the Ressurection protocol, so I wonder why he's showing up here? Is this just the arrival of "generic mutant villains"?

Final page is a splash of Xavier and Apoc shaking hands in welcome Xavier saying "Welcome Home". The sun is in the top left corner shining down through the trees in oranges and light purples. The fuschia "eyes" of Krakoa look on from the right. Apocs smiling abt as much as he can

There's something interesting to talk about here. Apoc identifies Krakoa as mutants "finally becoming what he always intended them to be", again this suggestion, present from the start, that Krakoa involves taking on a possibly corrupting nationalism&supremacism.

The dangers of those ideologies are obvs, but the context of the comics, where mutants have mostly been wiped out by repeated atrocities non-mutant humans refuse to prevent or help in stopping, & Moira's xp, I think explains why this would seem worth risking.

I do still feel like there's a deception going on here though. It cant be missed that Moira's Sixth life is hidden in the timeline charts, and that HoXPoX ends with their Sixth issues, and there's still the question of why X3 is included if its a "failed" tl.

Three issues left! I'll try to finish this up tomorrow. So far I've been liking it though I was expecting something a bit meatier from the reactions to it online.

[savemefrommyselfxv]

Once a day doses, instead of hours on end of endless convs. // kasi update sama lu sikit hahahah kk.

Came back so late!!! Hahah may As-Salam be with you, mirroredz buddy companion kindergartener, and may God's comfort hug you more snug than a grey hoodie varsity jacket would aha and hm may light penetrate into the heart, then glow and shine. ^ even typing this reminded me of two things. 1) when the grave will squeeze, it may come in to shatter our bones and squeeze entirely with no mercy in the scary way, or it could likely squeeze like a welcome back to your truest abode - home kinda hug. That's what I once learnt at the kursus jenazah camp a few months backkk. Made from clay like soil tanah liat, and exactly to that we will return to. Humbling, "come full circle" (coincodentally, came across the verses on habil and qabil - the two sons of Adam ytd!!! And how he learnt to kebumikan the brother from the bird's example. So yeah kinda related to grave) 2) zulumaati ilanoor. // I come across thissss during mathurat but also(!!) terawih made mention this phrase quite a bit so hm yeah hahah repeating themes hm hm // bring forth from darkness into light. - Anyway, aha I still make mention your name across the varied do'as I do. :") - Ok but yeah aha anyway, reason I came back at like 1+ todayyyyy was cuz we were preparing for ryc and all and there's this one part called muhasabah diri that they were practicing for (skit like) and theres this part that had like zikir aspect while the lights were off and the sad instrumental and the main cast was to make do'a :"""( rlly. Heart. Felt. :"(. It seems like I have the most "crying waterworks" camp sesh at islah man :"""). Aha rmmbr my story about the qiyam with the rabak cry sesh only to be ajak out to lepak post midnight ahahah yeah that was at islah jugak. But yeah aha awman I wished u were somehow part of ryc so u could see and have and be part of this moment that will rlly like menusuk ke kalbu muhasabah diri sesh. But aiy. Recent reminders jugak: you are exactly where Allah chooses for you to be. And "qad kafaani ilmu rabbi, min suaali wakthiari" OK BUT YES AHAH. If week one of ramadhan was, some days, already kinda tiring, like I woke up soree and rlly tired this morning actlly and yeah all that and last night after ghufran terawih I was also actlly thinking "what if lepas terawih just gym cuz conveniently near" but yozkiz hahahah I realise then that wow that wouldn't be a good choice cuz body recovery from workout and mad tired probs but yeah it seems a recent theme is also strength. The words you wrote about strength about knowing God amidst our weakness etc, that one def spoke to me macam wake up call. Sebab like hm usually every mess up or weakness or fall, I'd be so zoned in on me and my weakness etc. But instead, with what u wrote, if anything, even our downfalls points back to God, knowing learning God. I once wrote about learning from opposites and yeah. Didn't see it this way, how our mess ups only highlights even more attributes of God. :"") But yeah ok if week 1 was tiring, hahahah I've yet to hustle through week 2 and 3 of ramadhan which is basically high busy weeeks, mirrorredz :"") I've got like ryc then myf bake sale then alterisk night camp with Muhammadiyah kids which includes the night cycling thing, then the special iftar inshaAllah then the project ihsan overnight service camp/qiyam then hustle for aceh and yeah ahahah. This week, as compared to the upcoming weeks, have been more lax yet I haven't gotten a chance to write out or think through or develop wtv one liner wisdom pearls I've been getting. 1) the model love 2) setting progressive goals and translating it from intent, thoughts and into reality 3) the selfless - what's in it for me 4) weaknesses, strengths. Mess ups and humble pies. - road to br(ok)en 5) humble pie of learning from people we'd least expect 6) purified lil kids and the parenting I seeee at terawih And ya hahaha u see so much actlly to process tapi kian tak cukup waktu :""( Walhal when you asked me to write a poem HAHAHA I WAS LIKE jack so kind of u la hahahaha making it interactive, I thought twas gonz be like your typical factual thoughts theories and learnings, type of post but EHHH HAHAHA terselit "mirror" inside jugak hahaha but yeah. I think how I write poems, like the skeleton, is kinda to pick out words that ring forth. So yeah as seen in exhibit yellow notepad HAHAHA as u can see written at 1:02 otw home ah from tadi while dropping by giant to buy dark choxxx but yeah: Burn with Love Engulf Ashes Crashes Hushes. ^ then usually Id continue with finding rhyming words then let more ideas thoughts flow but eeks hahahah kk tkde time. But #1, notice I'd capitalize Love. Cuz the moment we use Love, it kinda refers to godly kinda instead of lowly earthly love between creations. But yeah probs the ideas I'd play around would be about ego death and burning such into ashes, which may at first leave you in states that feels like the self crashes, ruins but in all it silences the soul, hushes. And thats where true empty cup and humility and ready to listen to The Word to reach you. And I like the idea of Burn WITH Love, that Love is there by you, as you burn with intensity, there by you through the journey from darkness into light, through by you, be with you. And it encapsulates going thru the process together. With Love. Al waliy. Its so interesting, just a play of, huruf jjar hahahah um prepositions and it might change up the meanings in varied ways. Burn FOR Love, Burn out of Love, Burn to Love, Burn into Love(hahahah idk is that possible) (I can only think of ways humans may reflect a tiny fraction of attributes of God by His mercy and will) but yeah and then the flow would also change immensely once you change the subject of Love to love. Burn for love, burn from love. Are burns always painful? Could the process be beautiful? What is the end product? What about sublimation - changes of state from one to another. What about the burn sensation, is that alll that you'd focus on, because of how fiercely the experience of a burn is? Is it self inflicted, accidental, a necessity to get to another state? Accidental from rubbing against what? Kerosene or another rough rock? Glow like that bbq thing (omg what is it called HAHA) (amber) or burn boldly like campfires. Did it start from small sparks and firestarters or set aflame from explosion. HAHAHAHA man, I'd love to exploreee writes once more hahaha but ok ah such thinking lead questions are pretty much a joy to wander/venture for a bit. But yeah man. Caught up with much on my plate :") and we have team members falling ill and belum properly confirm swee prep so rlly macam eeeks hahahah. "rabbi yussahil rabbi tamim bi khair" Sharing so much life updates ahahah though it's kinda irrelevant to u, if you weren't a friend. My friend. Hahaha chey possessive kk tak hahah kk astaghfirullah. But yeah addu'a biddu'a hope youre maximizing all the "mustajab doa moments" wether before buka or wee mornings aka last 1/3 of night, be it tahajjud or tak, or rainnn (masyaAllah, ytd's rain was beautifz hahshah i walked in the rain back home!!! I love it seh hahah) and yeah. Also reminder to self to upkeep al mulk, since I kinda began this post with reminder about graves :"") And yeah. Fridayyyyy alhamdulillah :) Hahahah. I wonderrrrrrr where you'd be performing your piece and I kinda rmmbred how I wanted to someday be in the crowds of yours but ahaha idk if our friendship is at that yet ahahaha but yay all the best I think you'd probs have fun ahah anddddd yeah man hahahah i went to re-watch your yoda performance where u spilled a little of your life story about tents and tensions and you gazing at sunrises while most of the population is asleeeep snoring. Voices man. Voices aren't the same as writes. Just as how it'll never equate to experiencing a person irl. Okkk and quick one worded word plays I sometimes do: Void. Voices. Vices. Vis a vis. Liver. Live. Love. Lover. Love Her. Flicker, falter. Fall. Fail. Fate. Fade. ^ HAHAHA guess these are how I sometimes start. Catharsis. Aight. :) Keep writing man hahahah even if they arent mirror letters. I rlly enjoy reading writes, no matter. Bound to have gems. Bi idznillah. And alhamdulillah. :") - Fa