#glorious model o | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

shogunish · 1 year ago

Text

𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗴𝗼𝗷𝗼𝘀 & 𝗶. [𝟬𝟮]

synopsis. satoru knows you're the closest thing to a mother megumi will ever have.

contents. reader battles with a kitchen stove (it was funnier in my head), a lil' bit of megs/reader bonding, soft and tired toru

words. 1.1k

note. pls lmk what you think bc i feel like my writing has gone 📉📉📉 but anyways, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE LOML, THE APPLE OF MY EYE, MY GLORIOUS BLUE EYED KING 💕

comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! <3

previous || next

as promised, you're watching over megumi for the day. he's a quiet and somewhat shy kid who doesn't talk too much, but you're certain the little guy will warm up to you once he sees you around more often. you can't blame him; after all, you're basically a stranger in his home who's suddenly spending time with him until he passes out and satoru comes back home from work. you'd be a little reserved as well if you were in his shoes.

“so megumi, what would you like for dinner?” you kneel down to megumi's height and flash him a kind smile, head tilted to the side and hair framing your face.

megumi regards you for a moment as if he doesn't really want to say what he wants, but the smile on your face, the warmth you exude is enough for him to speak up. if he already gets to choose, he better make it count. “..macaroni.” he says, a pout on his lips.

“macaroni it is, buddy.” ruffling megumi's hair, you're quick to move through the kitchen, finding the noodles, preparing two pots and filling one of them with the right amount of water. everything goes as planned until you're faced with that fancy kitchen stove that does absolutely not work like the one you own.

damn satoru and the salary he uses to buy expensive shit like this.

you know it's a touchscreen model, but whenever you do put your finger down and the thing beeps..nothing happens. the stovetop doesn't even turn red to indicate that it's on and so you put your finger down a couple more times only for nothing to happen.

a lump sits in the back of your throat, cold sweat coats the tip of your finger. your heart skips a beat. if you can't even figure out how to operate your newfound nemesis of a stove, megumi would go to bed hungry and satoru would definitely be severely disappointed in you!

you can't let the attractive single dad think you're useless.

you cannot let megumi starve.

stuck in your own panic, you fail to notice how megumi has watched your..conflict by peeking over the countertop. even his dogs give you a somewhat confused look as if they could sense your emotional distress over a stove of all things. the boy walks over, nudges himself between you and your self-proclaimed nemesis and brings his finger down on the touchscreen of the stove like he's never done anything else in his life.

beep. beep, beep.

apparently, it's that easy to get the water to cook.

dumbfounded, you stare at megumi, then at the stove and back at megumi. you have to look hilarious with your lips parted into an o-shape and your eyebrows almost shooting up to your hairline if megumi's little laugh is anything to go by. “..that's amazing..how did you–”

megumi shrugs his shoulders, his usual deadpan expression back on his face. “i always watch dad when he cooks. it's not..that hard.”

you groan out loud, but a little chuckle laces into the sound. “..i'm too old for this stuff.” with pouted lips, you let megumi explain how to increase and decrease the heat, how to turn the stove off and on. it really is a lot easier than you initially believed.

when satoru finally comes home, the skies are already darkening. hues of dark blue and a hint of purple are slathered across the vast canvas, birds roaming through the air and seemingly returning home to their nests or whatever place they consider home for the night. for a moment, the bustling life of the city ceases to exist – at least until satoru would have to leave for work again.

no emails, no phone calls, no meetings.

clad in suit and tie, buttons opened and tie loosened, a sigh of relief sneaks past his pale lips when the warmth of his apartment welcomes him home. a place which was usually silent, almost void of any life since megumi would be in bed by now. but now, the scent of food lingers in the air, soft snores echo from the living room down the hallway and the tv dimly illuminates the cozy space. driven by curiosity and a grumbling stomach, satoru finds a plate of macaroni on the dining table. in front of it, a note is placed.

“i figured you might be hungry after work. all you have to do is warm it up :]”

cerulean eyes soften behind pitch black shades as they skim over the carefully written note and the silly smiley you drew at the end. you didn't have to do this. satoru could take care of himself, he's been doing it for as long as he can remember, but..in a way, it's nice to be thought of, cared for, even in such small ways you probably didn't put much thought into.

he likes it. likely, a lot more than he should.

satoru trudges over to the sofa in the living room, wanting to thank you for the food, but when he sees you passed out on the cushion, megumi cuddled up to your chest and the two dogs snoring at your feet, the ghost of a smile dances on his lips. you look absolutely exhausted, a bit of drool leaking from the corner of your lips and red crayon smeared on your cheek, but it kind of looks cute on you, satoru thinks.

the sound of disney's bambi on the tv is nothing but white noise as satoru's gaze shifts towards his son, his little bundle of joy. the boy who never had a mother appears so content with his little arms clutching his favorite plushie and his little face buried in the warmth of your chest, snoring just as loudly as the dogs. the kid is beat, just like you.

satoru has to shake his head. ever since megumi was born, satoru wanted nothing more than for him to experience the love of a mother. someone who would offer him unconditional love, attention, would care for him and his happiness in ways that only a mother can, but you are not his mother. you never will be.

in the end, you're still the cute neighbor next door who offered to lend him a hand out of pity and not someone who could act as megumi's mother.

and yet, satoru knows he made the right choice by accepting your help.

this is the closest thing megumi will ever have to a mother.

a sigh, heavy enough to be conflicted but quiet enough to drown into the late hours, slips past satoru's lips. with quiet steps, he fetches a blanket from his bedroom and tosses the soft fabric over megumi's and your sleeping form.

"thank you." he breathes out, voice barely above a whisper.

taglist. @torusmochi, @ayanominitrash, @erigaur

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #fic. the gojos & i

515 notes · View notes

iratempestatis · 8 days ago

Note

Heyy! How are u? I hope you’re doing well i saw you wanted some requests for xiao and i thought of an idea so we know xiao’s true form is a bird right? How about xiao’s s/o one day discovers it by an accident? Like maybe the s/o is an adventurer and was exploring around liyue in the night and happened to hear the whistling sound we hear in the game in liyue (the one where xiao calls for his dead friends) and the s/o goes to see what the noise is the rest is up to you

Entwined.

Xiao x gn!reader, 5.5k words. Some angst and then all fluff, it may not have been exactly what you wanted but I do hope you like it! I love bird Xiao <3 Feel free to send more Xiao asks! Rest assured I will write them even if it takes some time :3

Being an adventurer is hard work.

Find a suitable commission (which never happens), figure out any additional details (clients never provide enough info, especially the rich ones), plan your schedule, budget and equipment accordingly (it often falls short thanks to their unreasonable demands), finally carry out the commission (it often turns out to be far more frustrating and time consuming than you anticipated), get angry when the client stubbornly refuses to cough up the original sum of mora (this thankfully doesn’t happen as much), nurse your wounds (ouch) and worry nonstop about any sudden emergencies (what if you get injured? What’s going to happen when you get old?) You sometimes wish you listened to your family and became a scholar instead.

Anyway, you’re currently locked in a bitter battle with a rank one (1) asshole, so maybe you just have an unreasonably short fuse right now.

Some days past an old, rich Fontainian posted a commission at the Liyue branch of the Adventurers guild. And you were lucky enough to snag it. It was a stroke of sheer fortune, quite literally, too- if you could meet the client’s demands, you’d end up with a completely inane amount of mora. You planned on doing this mission solo- after all, any expenses incurred would be more than covered by the heaps of mora you’d be swimming in soon enough.

But some conniving liar told Katheryne you’d agreed to pair up with him- and she believed him before you could confirm it, so now you’re officially partners… which means you’re forced to share the spoils.

You’re so tempted to drop the commission altogether, but-

“But that’s what he wants,” you hiss, hiking up the trail along the beautiful mountains of Jueyun Karst. Normally this would be a soothing trip- Jueyun Karst is so glorious you sometimes wonder if the gods picked a random mortal’s preferences to model it after (yours), but today you saw only the bad, like the still smoking fires left behind by some careless brigands, and a dead mouse. You consider bringing it back to Changsheng as a twisted joke- no, she’d paralyse you. Best to focus on the task at hand. You go over the details.

The commission was vague (rich, old man), although a bit sad (old man). If you really did find what he want though (unlikely, vague request, but if partially fulfilled, you get half the mora) you wouldn’t have to work at all for perhaps the next six months (rich man).

Apparently, a long, long time ago, the rich old man saw a beautiful apparition in the form of a woman. Lost in the foggy mountains on a rainy day, he saw her seated on a tree nestled deep somewhere in Jueyun Karst. She apparently rescued his life, by appearing on a different tree each time he got too close, leading him out the valley. When he asked for her name, she responded with a mere scoff, then vanished for good.

You’re pretty sure that’s either bull or some ghost. Sounded disturbingly like an Inazuman tale you heard once. Either way, she doesn’t exactly sound like a normal person.

And he wants you to find her.

How are you even supposed to do that? The old man is decrepit, according to Katheryne, who (bless her bionic heart) tried her damnedest to convince him it was something out of the ordinary, and that he should give up. You agree with her- you’re pretty sure it was either a ghost (no finding it), an adeptus (no finding them) or an actual mortal woman (Xiao’s influencing you too much. You could’ve just said woman. Also, if it really was just a woman, which she wasn’t, she’s probably dead by now.)

But you didn’t really have the heart to tell the old man that. Or maybe you got a little greedy. But hey, he can afford it! And you just might end up end up giving his broken heart some closure, right?

You figure you’ll ask around, look for the grave. So far you’ve had no leads, besides some blue haired kid (with the ugliest haircut, you think, then feel bad for thinking that of a kid) lying to your face in an attempt to prank you. It’s so strange, because you’re pretty sure you’ve seen her-? Him? With someone important, in silks and brocade. You just can’t remember who… but you digress.

You’ve checked everywhere you could think of in the past two, almost three weeks. Nothing. You’ve even been to Mingyun Village- again, nothing. Right up until a child in Qingce told you she saw a similar pretty woman, on a tree in Jueyun Karst. Really.

You’ve spent days in Jueyun Karst, craning your neck and nearly stumbling down mountain slopes, eyes throbbing from the light, spine burning. But nothing. You considered taking the easy way out and telling him it was Cloud Retainer, but you’re an adventurer with morals and besides, anyone who’s met her knows she never stops talking. But on the subject of your quarry, why did that bitch find a nondescript tree to sit in every time? Was it so hard to just go sit on the big, glowy one?

“Old hag,” you mutter. Your calves feel about as solid as almond tofu right now, and your brain just as smooth. You have no idea how you’re going to do this, but. The mora.

You glance at the note Katheryne gave you. It told you just a few things- a dark haired woman in a tree, with hair that fluttered like downy feathers in the wind (poetic old man. Also rich, you remind yourself), pale, in a tree, nothing more.

You sigh.

At least Jueyun Karst is pretty at night.

And comfortable enough to camp in, you figure. Granted, there’s some treasure hoarders and monsters, but it is the abode of the adepti after all.

You shrug, and trudge upward along the winding paths. Darkness is gathering, but your eyes adjust.

Eventually, the lingering shadows cease to lengthen and melt into the darkness enveloping the mountain as a whole. You’re disconcerted as you start to make camp in a copse, but reassured by the small blaze you’ve lit to warm yourself at some distance.

Upon making camp, you settle down on the grass with a snack. The wind rustles through your little copse and you see the moon emerge, denuding its robe of clouds. Silvery fingertips trail across the land, painting, muting Jueyun Karst beneath its touch.

It’s peaceful, yet haunting.

What’s more haunting though, is the soft, yet somehow piercing, keening cry that wafts through the air.

It’s slow at first, just a trilling hum that gets clearer and higher with every moment before lilting and fading away.

You blink. You’ve never heard such a sound before. Is it a musical instrument? A bird of some sort?

You hear it again. It doesn’t start slowly this time- it’s high, all at once, then a low humming before rising in a wail once more. It sounds like music. It sounds like weeping. And for some inexplicable reason, you feel your chest tighten and feel hollow, all at once.

This is a bad idea, you tell yourself as you scrabble to put out the fire. You remind yourself of the same once more as you pack all your things (after you just made camp, too), fingers trembling, dropping things. Perhaps this is it, the maiden you were looking for.

You sling the bag across your bag with a force that makes you stumble, then start making your way up the hill.

Maybe this really is it, you think. In the distance you see tiny glows, nestled away across the vale. Probably treasure hoarders. For some reason, your heart aches.

It feels like you’ve been sitting stagnant for too long. Everything around you has grown. When you pull your hand up to wipe away a tear, you see it shrouded in spiderwebs. They reach past your ribs, to your elbow, to the rest of you. Force their way gently into your mouth, into your ears. They’re in your nostrils. You cannot breathe.

Arriving near the source of the sound, you sit onto the grass for a moment, to rest. The webs are swaying, scratching uncomfortably across all of you. Tightening and loosening and tangling, keeping you in place. You cannot move.

You’ll cut yourself.

Get a grip. Oh, Morax.

There’s a lull in the cries and your head feels lighter all of a sudden. You blink, then start to get up- utterly nonplussed, what are you doing here-

A sobbing, recoiling cry abruptly sounds from before you, the maker contained away in the hurst right before you, overlooking the valley. The moon skips ahead, weaves between the clouds.

Steeling yourself, heart racing, you enter the thicket peek behind the tree and look up towards the sound.

It’s a… something. A mess of tattered wings and bloodied feathers and too many eyes. In the night they all look black and silver, but realisation hits you with the force of a thousand spears- this is Xiao.

It’s Xiao.

Keening, weeping, alone. Seated on a tree, cradled in its branches. Shielded by its crown. He’s crying.

He’s crying.

He sheds no tears in his avian form- large gold eyes turned to the moon, muscular neck lain limply across a branch. You see his throat move and his eyes shut- eyes that are still gold, even in the dark- as he lets out another cry.

You can see his back and tail- the rest is covered by multiple sprawling wings. They’re dark. Looking at them feels as though looking at a human bruise on an oil painting. Disconcerting. The smoke coming off them makes them smudge into the dark, become one with it.

He’s beautiful.

But he’s crying and you’ve never known you could feel such anguish at someone else’s grief. Pain, sure, but this is something eyes. Tears well in your eyes to compensate for his current form. One runs down your cheek and it snaps you to your senses- what are you doing, just standing around?

You step towards him, arms outstretched, his name on the tip of your tongue. Your mind’s a mess. Vaguely, you can tell there is something amiss. Voices slither inside your head, voices that don’t belong, filling it up with murmurs in a tongue you don’t understand. Full of vitriol, they ignite emotions within you you didn’t even know existed. Grief so intense you feel as though your heart really is bleeding into your chest. Fury so immense you can’t help but slam a palm into the trunk of the tree next to you and gasp. They twine and twist into shapes and colours you cannot see. For just a moment, you’re blinded, agony blooming across your body. You shudder, gasp.

Something is wrong.

Your vision turns hazy- you glance up to see the bird descend before you, wings magnificently spread, beak- no, mouth now- open, crying out in alarm. You collapse into his outstretched arms and it feels like too much and nothing all at once. Warm water- warm tears- fall onto your temple as your knees buckle. You feel vertigo when he instead has lowered you gently to the ground. Just as you faint, you see him- mouth open, gritted teeth, face damp with tears. You say his name- at least you try-

When you come to, you’re in Bubu Pharmacy.

You feel so unencumbered all at once- the flames across your skin extinguished, the voices silent, the webs gently spooled away. Thank Baizhu. And you can see again, see normally, blind once more to the auras and colours mortals mustn’t see- or perhaps you hallucinated it all.

The old man from the funeral parlour- Zhongli, you recall- is seated on a chair next to you. His posture is a little slack. Sitting up with some difficulty, you see that his eyes are shut. The harbour is silent.

You glance out the window only to see the cheerless night sky mirror the inky ocean below.

Oh no.

You cannot delay. What are you doing here? How long were you asleep? You’re wearing loose, white clothes- who changed you? No matter. You need to find Xiao, because he was crying and your lungs feel like they’re folding in on themselves, and by Morax, he’s probably all alone once more, and you’ve added to his pain by being foolish and interrupting him as he vents in a moment of catharsis-

You stumble out of bed and look around to gather your things, then decide to just come collect them later. You’ve no time to waste. You hear Zhongli inhale deeply as he suddenly awakens- why was this guy in here with you anyways- and quickly bolt, locking the door behind you as you do so.

Sorry, Mr. Zhongli.

You regret not taking his talks about Karmic debt as seriously as you should have. You’re not worried for yourself- you feel much better already (you lift your vision up to your heart. You’re beyond grateful- it’s the only gift the gods have ever given you, their only gift that matters) but Xiao must feel abominable guilt right now. You must reach him, tell him you’re fine, tell him it’s not your fault.

You’re halfway across the main bridge on the northern side of Liyue harbour when you realise it’ll take way too long to find Xiao like this. You could call out his name, of course, but you don’t want to accidentally make him teleport and exert himself in the middle of a breakdown.

You run your hand through your hair, almost pulling it out as you do and glare out at the sea. From the corner of your eye you see the Millelith guards standing by the gate shoot one another unnerved glances, then turn towards you. What’s their problem?

Now irritable, you make your way towards them to politely ask what the matter is- but they clutch one another in terror and immediately start shrieking. You yelp and duck, looking around frantically for the danger. The guards continue babbling and pointing, then screech again as you panic and frantically crawl towards them. Maybe you’re a bit more disoriented than you thought you were, because the only people you see on the bridge are you and the guards pointing at you- oh.

You stop crawling and look at them, pushing back the hair from your face as you stumble to your feet. The buffer guard has the smaller one planted firmly before himself like a shield. You sigh and they squeak. Then the bigger one cries out-

“Adeptus Xiao!”

This bitch. You probably are delirious because by now you’ve lost any semblance of self control and feel nothing but fury. Xiao’s going through something right now! You’re not a ghost! Isn’t this supposed to be an era of mortals?

“COWARDS!” You howl, launching yourself at the duo and throw aside the shorter guard with a strength you didn’t know you possessed. Before you can grab the bigger one and clamp his lips shut with your bare fingernails, however, you feel slender, firm arms wrap around your waist and tug you gently back against a warm torso.

Xiao’s long, elaborate sleeve drapes over your front as he holds you. You feel his breath against your neck. You’re immediately consumed by worry so potent you can barely recall what you were even angry about. He leans into you a little and you press your palm against his cheek.

He seems exhausted.

✦—————————————✦

You ended up taking Xiao home that night- or was it morning? You wish you knew. All you do know is that he slumped against you and you half walked, half dragged him home, providing no explanation to the Millelith guards (they didn’t demand one either.)

Xiao drowsed off as soon as you got home and once you’ve sufficiently fussed over him, cocooned him in layers upon of blankets (it’s cold out) and put copious amounts of snacks and water on the bedside table, you make your way over to the couch and crash out.

Just in case.

Sleep takes you easily, pushing past your desperate, incoherent rambles, bringing your body some much needed rest. You awaken when you feel the sun jab rudely at your eyes with its bright, unswerving fingers.

It’s nearly afternoon.

You push yourself up slowly till you’re seated, checking for tiredness or any injuries. None. You’re positive this time- you’re in your right senses.

Your face flushes when you recall what happened yesterday. Or was it today? No matter. Praying to never see those guards again, you slide off the couch and make your way towards your bedroom.

Xiao’s upright, alert and giving his ungloved hands a glare so severe you nearly flinch. When he turns towards you, though, his eyes soften to a degree that might make one doubt him even capable of anger. You can’t help but mirror his softness.

You can’t help feeling a bit downcast, however, and you suspect it shows. Racking your brains for something- anything- to say, you part your lips, but only end up exhaling. You’re having trouble meeting his eyes. You suspect he feels the same.

You stand at the threshold for several moments before finally making your way in, and Xiao’s off the bed in an instant. You feel hands grip your heart and twist when he moves wordlessly across the room, away from you, gesturing towards the bed.

You hate it.

Xiao lives in terror of losing his loved ones- paranoia makes him check in on them from afar, gift amulets, slay any evil that might hurt them. Scores of times he’s caught you before you fell, warned you of danger, reminded you to take care of yourself before you even noticed something amiss.

You know him keeping his distance is him ensuring your safety. Him showing you he cares. It serves only to heighten your anguish.

This has been among your worst fears since the moment you began to care for him- that he’d consider himself a danger to someone he loves.

“Xiao,” you whisper, and your voice wavers more than you wanted to, is softer than you intended. He meets your eyes at that, finally, finally and your chest constricts at his wary gaze. You’re tempted to make light of it- tell him you’re fine, banter a little- but you know that’ll only leave him with a heavier heart, wondering when he’d hurt someone next. You need to address this now, for his sake.

“Hey.” You smile. Good, your voice didn’t waver this time. “Are you…” You trail off. How do you even begin to talk about this?

This isn’t awkward, this is a minefield, except it’ll blow up in his face if you mess up somehow. Your heart quickens.

You try to calm yourself. What does Baizhu say? Don’t borrow anxiety from the future? The future is in motion right now, Baizhu! Useless man.

“I’m sorry.”

You blink rapidly, nonplussed. “What—”

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, in a tone so repentant you almost respond with a hurried ‘it’s okay’ despite him having done nothing wrong. Despite it all, a tiny laugh bubbles up in your chest.

Baizhu, that silly old man (he’s your age). You suppose he is right sometimes. (Always.)

You’ve both lived too long, have survived too much to worry about something as small as this. Sure, in a vacuum, it is scary- but truth be told you feel fine- in fact you think you have an even better understanding now of the agony that has become his everyday, that he has endured for eons. This is something you can fix.

You smile and make your way towards Xiao, draw him into your embrace. He makes a quiet sound of protest that’s promptly muffled by you pushing his head affectionately into your shoulder. He exhales, then kisses it and remains in your arms but makes no move to wrap you in his.

That’s fine. You exhale . Xiao feels your breath waft over his ear, your warm, chapped lips as they brush over his face, landing tiny kisses. Your heart continues beating.

You’re there, right with him. Safe. Alive. Alright.

You sway gently, just holding him until eventually he places his palms on your waist and draws you a bit closer, ever so gently. As though you were the soft, powdery wings of a tiny butterfly in the dry summer months.

Before he can apologise- you do. You’re composed at first when you murmur an apology and explain how you came across him- but quickly become teary eyed when you recall how he looked up in that tree, mourning, all alone. His heart hurts. He hates seeing you cry, hates that he caused it- but he finds it difficult to dwell on anything else but the fact that you saw his monstrous, contaminated form and thought him beautiful. That you instantly wanted to hold him close. He feels dizzy.

“And,” you continue, sniffling, “I couldn’t think of anything else. I just felt overwhelmed. I just wanted to- to comfort you.” You’re not going to mention the voices and the pain. Maybe in a few decades. Maybe on your deathbed when it won’t matter anyway. You hear Baizhu’s ‘tsk tsk’ in your head and some vague speech about trust and communication, but you don’t care enough about that right now.

“And then I fainted.” You shrug. “Then I’m guessing you brought me to Baizhu? But I’m so sorry. It’s not your fault at all. I should’ve known to be more careful-“

“Please don’t lie to me.” His voice is soft, strained. He wishes you’d tell him the truth. Was it that much worse? “Tell me what else happened. Did it hurt? Do you feel better now? I’m so-“

You clamp a hand over his mouth. “It’s not your fault!” You protest. “What if some Inazuman wrestler guy threw me at you and you broke your arm, that wouldn’t be my fault- shh don’t interrupt me.” You put your other palm over the first and he exhales, warm breath wafting over your knuckles. You feel calmer already. The wonders of Xiao’s hugs never cease to impress.

“And… yeah, it hurt a bit. There were voices in my head.” He looks stricken. You consider making a garbage joke to cheer him up, but remember you were trying to be a mature adult and sigh. “My body hurt, too. Is that what it’s like for you? All the time?”

He hesitates, but nods with a sigh. “I’ve had centuries to get used to it, however.” You wait for him to draw you even closer, but he’s just looking, taking in your features. He looks as though he’s reassuring himself but not with much relief in sight.

You draw closer on your own instead, with a snort. “It all happened so fast, though. And it… it sucked honestly, even if it was just a couple of minutes. I’m sorry it’s like that for you every day.”

“It lessens with good company.” He finally looks relieved- apparently enough to even jest a little. “Which is likely why it worsens with you.”

You gasp in mock outrage. Maybe Baizhu was right about this whole communication thing. This is going well so far- or maybe not, because the next thing to come gently out Xiao’s mouth is a request to not approach him if he’s having a breakdown henceforth.

“Sorry, no can do. Nuh-uh.”

You swear you see question marks form over his head. “This is not a ‘nuh-uh’ situation, (Name). You could die or develop chronic health issues.” He frowns. “I don’t think-“

“I grasp the gravity of this situation,” you retort, a bit frustrated too. “I’ll stay away if I see or sense the Karmic debt- I will make some other adeptus come to you, though-“

“You cannot make the adep-“

“I will.“

He sighs.

“And,” you continue, “I’ll keep an eye. From afar, but I’ll keep an eye on you and wait for it to be over, before I can come to you again. And if you’re ever sad in a more ordinary sort of way, I will not leave your side, no matter what.” You press your forehead to his with a quiet sigh. “Because I love you. And it hurts when you’re in pain.”

There’s a pause, with neither of you moving. You hear a group of teenagers laugh outside and run past the house. You wonder if that blue haired brat from earlier is with them.

Xiao exhales, then finally (FINALLY!) wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, impossibly so. You rest your cheek against his as he gives you a rueful smile. You’ve won! Ah no, what was it Baizhu said? There’s no individual victor in relationships? Damn, you’re a good student.

But seeing Xiao so close once more… you’re certain you’ve won regardless.

✦—————————————✦

The next couple of hours are spent relaxing, unwinding and examining one another for injuries (this is why you’re perfect together. Mutual respect? Mutual affection? Yes, but also mutual anxiety). A worried Baizhu also comes to pay a visit. He’s angry about you vanishing without notice but cools off quickly as you and Xiao assuage his worries. Changsheng is not so easily mollified and turns even more furious upon being called an ‘angry little noodle’ by you.

Come noon, you and Xiao make your way to Wanmin- neither of you are in much of a mood to cook.

Besides, your consolations have worked wonders and Xiao looks considerably calmer than he did in the morning. Not exactly cheerful, but a happy display is a rarity even on the best of days, so you acquiesce. He’s still careful and is being extra-gentle with you, but you’re glad he’s not blaming himself for not noticing you sooner anymore.

Unbeknownst to you, though, his eyes are on you constantly. Truth be told, he’s only really agreed to dine out in order to observe your movements, reactions to light and the crowd to check for any lingering effects of his Karma. You’ve decimated his morbid expectations though (much to his immense relief)- cheerier than ever, you buy bread and meat for any stray animals you come across, happily greet the friends you bump into and tilt your face upwards to bemusedly watch the clouds form increasingly obscene shapes (what are you up to, Retainer?)

He's a little stunned at how quickly everything happened- he expected his culpability to haunt him for much longer and feels guilty for getting over it so fast. It’s not that he doesn’t care- you matter to him more than anything in Liyue and were anything to actually happen to you because of him, he would truly would have lost the strength he used to cling to his brittle life.

It's just… a bit absurd. You haven’t raised a fuss at all about yourself, besides complaining a little initially. You comforted him instead, and were confused when he tried to reciprocate because “it happened, but it’s over. It’s not your fault and I really am okay now.” You seem to have meant it when you told him it was a terrible but distant memory. In your defence, the ordeal did take only a couple of minutes before he teleported you abruptly to Bubu Pharmacy (he still owes Baizhu an apology for dropping a whole human being into his arms and bolting).

So he allows himself to relax (the voices in his head tell him to split himself on his spear. He hurt you once, he’ll do it again. He imagines you screaming at them to piss off and ends up smiling softly instead).

He shakes his head when you ask what he’s amused about, bright eyed and curious and he gives you the fondest of expressions when you glance away and up at Katheryne. Xiangling teasingly gags at him from behind you, then yelps and runs into the kitchens to dodge Shenhe’s glares.

Xiao wishes you picked a table in the back- the Adventurer’s Guild is plainly visible from where you’re seated and something up there clearly has you distracted. No matter. At least now he can take you in without interruptions.

You look invested- eyes narrowing with amusement first, then further to slits with annoyance. Startled, he turns to see exactly what evoked such disdain from you, and his eyes meet that of a dark haired man, presently engaged in conversation with an elderly gentleman dressed in Fontaine’s fashions. Maybe. Those shoes aren’t fashionable anywhere, he’s pretty sure. Menogias would’ve wept.

The man that’s earned your ire happens to appear quite exquisite by mortal standards- handsome and tall and- Xiao shoots you a hurried glance. Yes, that’s anger, thank the skies-

“You see that guy over there?” You bring the glass to your lips for a sip before lowering it with more force than is necessary. “He’s the jerk I told you about. The one who’s stealing half my commission.”

Xiao blinks. “But he hasn’t found anyone according to the description, has he?”

You frown. “Obviously not. If she really did- hm?”

He turns in his chair to see Katheryne and the men approach- one barrel chested and tall, the other slight and elderly, shuffling along with the pace and gait of a caterpillar. When they get a bit closer, however, the old man stiffens, then breaks into a rapid hobble, before pausing right before Xiao and bursting into tears.

What the- this is fine. He’s not too close. Xiao is still and wide eyed like a startled deer. You bite back the urge to kiss his face all over, then fight the momentary urge to punt the old man as he reaches out to touch Xiao’s face, still bawling. Xiao jerks and stands. The man turns to you as you grab his arm and try to gently sooth him, smacking you away.

“Oh,” he blubbers. “So many nights you’ve haunted my dreams. How I’ve waited all these years. I knew- I knew-“ he coughs, vehemently shakes his fist to keep the rest of you away. “Don’t come closer! I know her- that’s the love of my life!”

Mortals.

The lovely maiden in a tree being Xiao did not surprise you in the slightest. It was a bit startling but you feel incredibly foolish for not connecting the dots earlier.

Pretty maiden up in a tree.

“Really, who else could it be?” You bite into the muffin you bought on the way home.

“Xi- Cloud Retainer.”

“Oh. Is she pretty?”

Xiao tilts his head. He’s adorable. You resist the urge to haul him back down the road for another meal- what a miserable date, that was.

After finally catching Xiao the old man first wept into his chest (he reminded you of an unused hair tie with how scrunched up and tiny he was. The old man, to be clear, not Xiao. Xiao is tiny bit firm), then clasped his clawed hands within his own soft, wrinkly ones (you’re glad Xiao didn’t forget his gloves and you can tell he’s even gladder) and begged Xiao to go with him to Fontaine.

Xiao’s answer being an alarmed, emphatic ‘no’ only succeeded in making the man cling tighter and cry harder.

You did start feeling terrible for the poor guy by that point, so you gave him a handkerchief and some water, sat him down and once he was finally calm and lucid, you explained to him that this was not the maiden he saw all those years ago, but in fact, your beloved.

Your kindness evaporated fast though when he smacked you in the face with your own hankie and swore to never pay you your commission. You left to eat elsewhere at that point. That sounded like a problem for your (rather distressed) ‘partner.’

Presently, though, you’re waiting for Xiao to tell you more about Cloud Retainer. You’ve surmised two things from his slip ups; she lives in the harbour nowadays, and her name starts with “Sh.”

You’re honestly convinced it’s Shenhe, and even more so when Xiao tells you she’s more imposing than pretty. When you tell him your guess, though, he gives an uncharacteristic laugh, so bright and warm. You want to store it in a bottle to sip it on the cold days.

When you tell him so upon reaching home, he just laughs again (!) and kisses your entwined hands. He prays you won't let go.

#xiao x reader #genshin xiao x reader #x reader #xiao x gn reader #xiao #entwined #slight angst #but then #fluff #xiao fluff #iratempestatis #bird xiao but a liiiitle monstrous #i hc his bird form can either be fat finch or #a lovely regal eagle. think ellona from afkj #or The Creature #i love both the hmc book and movie can you tell

82 notes · View notes

vibratingskull · 2 months ago

Text

NSFW Alphabet: Thrawn

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Very attentive. Will bath and massage you to help your relax.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He doesn't favor anything or his own body, it is simply a tool for him that he uses and models to accomplish his goals, so he would choose his brain. Loves everything about you, because it is you, but if you really press him for an answer he will say your soft hands that touch him so deliciously and your gorgeous eyes that say everything he wants to learn about your mood, headspace, thoughts,...

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Deeply wants a child with you, so he prefers to cum inside your pussy.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

It's only a secret until he asks your permission, but he craves to smell your dirty panties when separated from you during his rut, it helps him keep the urges in check.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Low experience, 1 to 0 former partner. He received a sexual education as any other Chiss and follows his desires and instincts but he is very attentive to your guidance. Very thorough and focused student, learns super fast.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Good ol' romantic missionary because he can hug you and see the pleasure on your face. Will negotiates hard and long until you accept to sit on his face

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Not really goofy but he still has his deadpan humor and sometimes you have to stop everything because you cannot stop laughing at one of his zesty remark while he considers you sternly.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

No hair anywhere but his glorious head

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Very loving and romantic! He will give you a lot of attention and tenderness

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Rarely masturbates, its more of a last resort.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Breeding, overstimulation, scent kink, delay, any "artsy" kink like Shibari (on you or himself)

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

The bedroom. His office or a closet if the rut is driving him insane, but this is exceptionally rare

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

The feeling of closeness, intimacy, vulnerability and warmth with you during the act and the aftercare provide him and the desire for a baby

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Nothing that could really hurt and is unsanitary or unhygienic

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Pro at giving, he is a natural at eating pussies and it is really fun to him. Appreciate receiving but prefers to give

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Slow and sensual usually, fast and rough during heat

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Prefers to go big or go home so not a big fan of quicky, but will do it as a last resort during rut (but it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth)

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Willing to experiment whatever you want after proper research and in a controlled environment but he remains pretty vanilla himself

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

As an alien on top of his game and with a rut/heat, he can last way longer than you, that doesn't mean that he wants to tho...

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

His first toys were for you, and only thought of some for himself when he started to explore his submissive side with you

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Loves delay to make the pressure and tension rise so a big teaser during foreplay but will give so much during the main course!

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Low hisses and growls usually, but will be very vocal when in subspace or when he eats you out.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Aroace king that slowly discovers that aspect of himself with you.

Bonus card : A glorious switch, will dom or sub like a pro

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Very long and girthy, like the rest of his body. Prayers to your body...

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Very low, like... You thought he was not attracted to you at first until he explained to you

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Will never fall asleep before you if he even has to sleep in the first place.

#thrawn #thrawn x reader #thrawn smut #vibratingskull #alphabet #fanfic

57 notes · View notes

butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway · 4 months ago

Text

My uncle was a pillar in his community so even though he just died this morning, the city has already published a memorial to him and his life and now I'm sobbing over this shitty powerpoint some public servant made of photos of my uncle through the years and remembering what a goofball he was, how many people loved him, how much he MATTERED to the world in ways people will never know.

He revolutionized archival medium transfers to and from microfiche, and for three generations in that town he ran a shop that would restore and replicate lost media for anyone who needed it. He saved people's memories from entropy and remade them for modern record keeping tech. My uncle's inventions never made him any money because even when they made a big splash he'd hand over his patents without a second thought or a penny exchanged if someone told him they would make sure the inventions he made would help people [hey fun fact, a USA car manufacturing company that shall go unnamed has been sitting on the blueprints for a truck engine with chronilogically equivalent power output that runs on amonia and produces nothing but water as a byproduct since the 1970s, and when you grow up on stories like that across a dozen different industries, you become anti-capitalist real fuckin fast]. Once the secret service showed up at his mother's house when he was a middle schooler and Marion's first response was "Ronald what the FUCK did you do" and according to the very stern looking men at her front door, what he had done was use her gelatine recipe and baking trays to rig up an improvised photocopy machine AND STARTED PRINTING HIS OWN FUCKING MONEY and they would really appreciate it if he did not keep doing this.

This was not the last time federal law enforcement called upon my great grandmother because of her son's shenanigans, but it IS one of the funnier ones.

This was a man who could make a story out of anything, who could make a stranger feel seen and loved, and who always had a smile and a laugh for you no matter what he was going through.

And on top of it all the man was a stone cold hottie, look at this snazzy lookin motherfucker

Ron was the only man in the family for a long time (and now he has two sons, so they're around and they're clones of him the same way all the women in my family are clones of their fucking moms) so when I started T I downloaded a shitload of photos of him and brought them to my HRT prescriber and was like "yeah no you have to understand the this man is the family model for testosterone dominant systems and then on the other hand this man's sister's (my grandma) nickname was Jackie O because she was apparently "maybe even prettier than the First Lady" and these two stone cold prohibition era hotties spawned my entirely family line, so I **know** I'm gonna like how this turns out but I need to you tell me WILL I BE ABLE TO TO GROW THE FUCKING MOUSTACHE????????"

Yesterday was the last day of my Uncle Ron's life and it was also his birthday. He spent it surrounded by loved ones and reminiscing with his friends.

It was also the first day I looked in the mirror and saw the man's glorious moustache starting to grow in on my lip. It was gorgeous, and I can see his face looking back at me in the mirror more and more every day, more even than my own father.

Happy Birthday Uncle Ron. We're all gonna miss you so goddamn much.

#i solemnly swear to uphold the legacy of the family moustache #and because i'm petty i'm gonna make sure it always looks better than my cousin john's :3

33 notes · View notes

anastpaul · 5 months ago

Photo

Our Morning Offering – 3 September – “The Month of The Seven Sorrows of the Blessed Virgin Mary and The Holy Cross” – St Pius X (1835-1914) Pope, Confessor and today, Wednesday, being St Joseph’s day. St Joseph continues his fatherly guardianship of Christ’s Body, the Holy Catholic Church. He is a very powerful intercessor for all of us. [Sorry friends, I got the days confused, thinking today was Wednesday – but no time to change this prayer and anyway we should pray it every day ] O Glorious St Joseph, Model of Labour A Prayer to St Joseph, Daily Before Work By St Pius X (1835-1914) Pope, Confessor

(via Our Morning Offering – 3 September – O Glorious St Joseph, Model of Labour By St Pius X – AnaStpaul)

#st joseph #prayers #catholic #catholicism #roman catholicism #christianity #anastpaul #the seven sorrows #blessed virgin mary

9 notes · View notes

goodqueenaly · 1 year ago

Note

What times do you think were best for the Targaryen reign? Jaehaerys the First's reign was clearly a golden age, Viserys I as well but what about after the Blackfyre Rebellion in Daeron II's reign?

I think the reign of Jaehaerys I is the clear standout, at least in terms of popular imagination, for the acme of the Targaryen dynasty. Whatever criticisms I have of King Jaehaerys personally (which I maintain are valid and substantial, and I direct everyone to my Jaehaerys I tag to read), and however badly I (still!) believe Fire and Blood Volume 1 (and, by extension, GRRM) handled the history of his reign, in-universe Jaehaerys I remains the model of Targaryen kingship, and a representation of a great and glorious period of monarchy. Yandel opines that the “true king” and “wise beyond his years” Jaehaerys “ruled wisely and well for five-and-fifty years”, and if the maester is a bit fulsome in his praise when he declares that “the realm never saw their like again” after the deaths of Jaehaerys and Alysanne, his feelings are not entirely baseless. Gyldayn likewise lauds King Jaehaerys for “the long periods of peace and prosperity that marked his time upon the Iron Throne”, remarking upon the increased productivity, booming population, and long periods of peace. This is the era GRRM very obviously wants readers to believe was the golden age of House Targaryen, a time when a (seemingly) great king and his (ostensibly) beloved queen ruled, as in a fairy tale, over a land of justice and plenty. (Once again, do not forget GRRM’s evident desire to link Jaehaerys to that beau ideal of medieval European kingship, King Edward III of England, especially that king’s representation in The Accursed Kings.)

Indeed, I think that nostalgia for the reign of the Conciliator, and desire to recall the (again, perceived) glory of that period, appears time and again throughout the remainder of the Targaryen dynasty. It was no coincidence, after all, that the future King Aegon V named his second son “Jaehaerys”, recognizing in his great-great-great-great-great grandfather the sort of justice and conscientious rulership that he himself would, so he hoped, eventually go on to implement as king. (We might guess that similarly positive sentiments influenced the double choice of “Jaehaerys” and “Jaehaera” for the twin eldest children of Aegon II, especially as he himself had been explicitly named for the lauded Conqueror, though we get practically no sense of who chose the twins’ names, or why.) Yandel‘s praise of Viserys II specifically compares the king to Jaehaerys I, stating that Viserys “had within him the capacity to be a new Conciliator, for no king had ever been shrewder or more capable”. Dany has herself seized upon the name and reputation of her ancestor to underline her personal grandeur, with the Green Grace remarking that “[o]ft have I heard that yours is the blood of Aegon the Conqueror, Jaehaerys the Wise, and Daeron the Dragon”.

What’s more, while Jaehaerys’ reign certainly was not the only time of peace and prosperity in the Targaryen dynasty, other such periods were marred by political frictions and/or devastating wars. Viserys I might have “reigned over the most prosperous era in the history of the Seven Kingdoms”, but no one save the king himself could have missed the increasingly violent dynastic factionalism that would, almost immediately after his death, erupt into the Dance of the Dragons. Daeron II might have earned the epithet “the Good”, but again, long-simmering tensions came to a head during his reign in the first and likely most devastating of the Blackfyre Rebellions, and even years after the Redgrass Field the suspicions and prejudices around that division lingered ominously with many in Westeros. Life might have been relatively good for common citizens in Westeros under, say, Baelor I (at least for Seven-fearing people the king deemed virtuous enough, anyway) or Aegon V, but neither king achieved the kind of national glory associated with Jaehaerys I - the former because of his zealous confidence in his own executive authority and lack of concern for practical realities (which, I think, prompted his exasperated uncle to eventually assassinate him), the latter because of his almost revolutionary challenge to the established privileges of the Westerosi noble class combined with his failure to cement his aristocratic allegiances. Yandel might assert that “the Seven Kingdoms prospered greatly during the first decade of” Aerys II’s reign, yet even putting aside the motivation to laud Tywin, few would retrospectively call Aerys II’s reign great (especially for the Targaryens) given the king’s descent into paranoid brutality and the outbreak of the rebellion that would end the dynasty altogether.

(And of course, we’re still waiting on information, sometimes significant information, on any number of periods in Targaryen history. Aegon III’s reign as an adult remains somewhat vague, mixing the king’s desire to “give the realm peace and plenty in the wake of the Dance” and his and his brother’s able handling of “the remaining turmoil in the realm” with the decline of the dragons, the appearance of false pretenders, and the king’s own deep melancholy. The reign of Maekar, who ruled for 12 years of seemingly mostly peace, is reduced to a single sentence in TWOIAF, doubtless because of the stories being saved for future Tales of Dunk and Egg. Of course, Aegon V, being the co-protagonist of the Tales, will likely be far more detailed in the future, just as his father probably will.)

#asoiaf meta #house targaryen

41 notes · View notes

ave-immaculata · 6 months ago

Note

Hi! Do you know any prayer to St. Mary Magdalene for tomorrow? Thank you.

Sure, yes!

Saint Mary Magdalene, woman of many sins, who by conversion became the beloved of Jesus, thank you for your witness that Jesus forgives through the miracle of love.

You, who already possess eternal happiness in His glorious presence, please intercede for me, so that some day I may share in the same everlasting joy. Amen.

O Glorious St. Magdalene, “model of penitents,” obtain for me the grace of perseverance in the practices of self-denial. Pray to God for me that I may appear before Jesus, our Lord and Master, at the moment of my death, with my lamp filled with the oil of faith and hope, and burning with the pure flame of charity; and thus merit to be received with thee into His eternal Kingdom. Amen.

Grant to us, most merciful Father, that as the blessed Mary Magdalen, by loving Our Lord Jesus Christ above all things, won the forgiveness of her sins, so may she obtain for us, through Your mercy, everlasting happiness. Through Our Lord Jesus Christ Your Son, who lives and reigns with You in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, forever and ever. Amen.

As well as her litany: https://www.catholiccompany.com/magazine/litany-st-mary-magdalene-6103

7 notes · View notes

crimsonmonsoon · 2 years ago

Text

Heres some character info-sheets for my mlb rewrite. The main five obv, but I'll get to other characters maybe later if and when I feel like it... also this was an excuse to draw them n o t dying or something so uh- yar.

Some additional info about each:

Marinette- Marinette's mom tried to teach Marinette chinese but started out a little too late in Mari's child-language development and never really succeeded. At most, Marinette can introduce herself. She does not yet have any crushes in my fic at the moment, but the first one (sorta already is) will be Luka for a while once he gets more "screen time". She's less "UwU quirky i'm so clumsy" like she is in the show. In fact, she doesn't go and do stupid things without repercussions at all. She is less focused on boys and more on her superhero life, but it starts getting overwhelming. She feels like if she tried to focus on herself for a change, something bad would happen as a result, and it doesn't help that Tikki is so strict on her about it.

Adrien- Adrien is pomosexual which basically means he doesn't know what the heck he is or what to label his feelings with so he went with that. He knows he is attracted to femininity, but is also ok with more masculine or "tom-boyish" attributes in anyone of any gender. This does lead into his crush on Kagami later on since they are nonbinary and not exactly "the most feminine" person you could meet, yet also not entirely masculine in their personality and presentation. Basically, he doesn't know what the heck his sexuality is. He knows chinese and english because of how strict his homeschooling is, and has a natural talent for picking up new languages. He doesn't really understand himself and often feels like he's broken, or a robot. Perhaps some senti-monster behavior...??????!!!!! (I'm deciding on that now shut up)

Nino- Nino is a glorious bilingual child whose parents are unknown. They probably left the face of the planet. No one has ever seen them... at least in the show... so I didn't bother giving him a family. But he's bilingual somehow!! But wait... I did give him parents?! That's right, I invented Mara Lahiffe for no reason, and we're gonna say his dad is no longer in the picture. He's very protective of his friends and would never abandon them, hence why he became so fitting for the turtle miraculous. He has a secret crush on Rena Rouge but sadly, not Alya. He likes his mysterious women I guess.

Alya- Alya is creole which is a race of people from America that spawned from the mixing of native american, Spaniard, black, and europeans. It's a lot... I know... they're best known for existing in Louisiana, and does she have family there? No! She has relatives from Cuba which is why she can speak spanish. Alya has a big family with three other sisters, and she's caught being the middle child. This has given her a lot of insecurities due to her older sister being a literal muscle boxing beast and her two little twin sister getting all the attention from the family.

Chloe- I think it's really funny that I didn't give Marinette, the main character, family trauma, but the other four.... Chloe's parents are divorced and her mother has a very judgmental attitude over Chloe. Chloe wants nothing more than to please and impress her mother who sometimes doesn't even remember her daughters name. Chloe feels like she's battling her half sister, Zoe, for their mothers attention, which is made extra hard for her by the fact that her sister and mother live all the way in New York. Chloe was as straight as a pencil, she swears. but then... she started developing feelings for a girl and everything became a mess. She's kinda in the same boat as Adrien right now, except she's more comfortable calling herself bicurious. She developed anorexia after Gabriel Agreste's company refused to accept her as a model, denying her the chance to work with Adrien and pursue her dream career.

#i love writing characters #adrien and alya are my favorites tho tbh #alya is so fun to write especially since I literally traumatized her #miraculous #mlb #art catastrophe #chat noir #ladybug #mlbrewrite #art catastrophe mlb rewrite #mlbredesign #miracle box #art catastrophe miracle box

56 notes · View notes

postersdecinema · 5 months ago

Text

Sabrina

EUA, 1954

Billy Wilder

7/10

Mudam-se os tempos

Sabrina, nesta versão original de 1954, tão singela na sua cinematografia a preto e branco, a lembrar tempos passados, em contraste com o glamour do tecnicolor, que dominou a década de 50, é, não obstante, uma prova incontornável de como a comédia romântica mudou, em Hollywood, desde os dias gloriosos, anteriores à guerra.

Temos a jovem Audrey Hepburn, de 25 anos de idade, sangue novo importado da Bélgica, top model da sempre glamorosa Europa, mesmo destruída pela guerra. Temos o veterano Humphrey Bogart, já com 55 anos de idade (faleceria escassos dois anos depois), símbolo incontornável do film noir da década de 40. Haverá um par mais improvável e menos romântico do que este?

O amor do pós-guerra perdeu o sentido de humor. Esqueceu a loucura das screwball comedies e rendeu-se ao drama psicológico, à redenção das almas, após o pesadelo da guerra.

Neste novo mundo triste, um velho executivo encontra tempo para o amor, depois de uma vida dedicada ao trabalho e à família, e uma jovem e glamorosa cozinheira, esquece os sonhos de infância, para se entregar à responsabilidade de uma vida adulta e rica.

Um amor cinzento e deprimido. Um drama romântico, nos antípodas da exuberância de um Cary Grant ou de uma Katharine Hepburn.

Até Billy Wilder, o rei das comédias da época, perdeu o sentido de humor, neste melodrama atípico, que nos deixa nostálgicos dos anos 30, quando as comédias românticas eram loucas e divertidas.

Decididamente, os tempos mudaram e com eles os gostos. Do meu pedestal da posteridade, posso afirmar, sem medo nem grande risco, que foi na loucura das screwball comedies, que Hollywood teve o seu apogeu romântico.

Em todo o seu glamour cinzento, este Sabrina é a prova inequívoca disso mesmo.

Times change

Sabrina, in this original version from 1954, so simple in its black and white cinematography, reminiscent of times gone by, in contrast to the glamor of Technicolor, which dominated the 50s, is, nevertheless, an inescapable proof of how comedy Romanticism has changed in Hollywood since the glorious, pre-war days.

We have the young Audrey Hepburn, 25 years old, new blood imported from Belgium, top model from the always glamorous Europe, even destroyed by war. We have the veteran Humphrey Bogart, already 55 years old (he would pass away just two years later), an unavoidable symbol of film noir in the 40s. Is there a more unlikely and less romantic pairing than this?

Post-war love has lost its sense of humor. It forgot the madness of screwball comedies and surrendered to psychological drama, the redemption of souls, after the nightmare of war.

In this sad new world, an old executive finds time for love, after a life dedicated to work and family, and a young and glamorous cook, forgets her childhood dreams, to give herself over to the responsibility of a wealthy adult life.

A gray and depressed love. A romantic drama, at the opposite of the exuberance of a Cary Grant or a Katharine Hepburn.

Even Billy Wilder, the king of comedies at the time, lost his sense of humor in this atypical (for him) melodrama, which makes us nostalgic for the 1930s, when romantic comedies were crazy and fun.

Times have definitely changed and, with them, tastes. From my pedestal of posterity, I can say, without fear or great risk, that it was in the madness of screwball comedies that Hollywood had its romantic heyday.

In all its gray glamour, this Sabrina is an unequivocal proof of this.

#ricardo ramalho #sabrina #billy wilder

2 notes · View notes

orthodoxadventure · 9 months ago

Text

Righteous Job the Long-Suffering

Commemorated on May 6

As an indestructible pillar of courage, you repulsed the attacks of Belial and remained unmoved in temptation. Therefore, O wise Job, the Church praises you as a model of endurance and an example of virtue; and she is made radiant by your great deeds.

The righteous Job (whose name means “persecuted”), God’s faithful servant, was the perfect image of every virtue. The son of Zarah and Bossorha (Job 42), Job was a fifth-generation descendent of Abraham. He was a truthful, righteous, patient and pious man who abstained from every evil thing. Job was very rich and blessed by God in all things, as was no other son of Ausis (his country, which lay between Idoumea and Arabia). However, divine condescension permitted him to be tested.

Job lost his children, his wealth, his glory, and every consolation all at once. His entire body became a terrible wound covered with boils. Yet he remained steadfast and patient in the face of his misfortune for seven years, always giving thanks to God.

Later, God restored his former prosperity, and he had twice as much as before. Job lived for 170 years after his misfortune, completing his earthly life in 1350 B.C. at the age of 240. Some authorities say that Job’s afflictions lasted only one year, and that afterwards he lived for 140 years, reaching the age of 210.

Job’s explanations are among the most poetic writings in the Old Testament book which bears his name. It is one of the most edifying portions of Holy Scripture. Job teaches us that we must endure life’s adversities patiently and with trust in God. As Saint Anthony the Great (January 17) says, without temptations, it is impossible for the faithful to be saved.

The Orthodox Church reads the book of Job, the first of the seven wisdom books of the Old Testament, during Holy Week, drawing a parallel between Job and Christ as righteous men who suffered through no fault of their own. God allowed Satan to afflict Job so that his faithfulness would be proven. Christ, the only sinless one, suffered voluntarily for our sins. The Septuagint text of Job 42:17 says that Job “will rise again with those whom the Lord raises up.” This passage is read on Great and Holy Friday, when the composite Gospel at Vespers speaks of the tombs being opened at the moment the Savior died on the Cross, and the bodies of the saints were raised, and they appeared to many after Christ’s Resurrection (Mt.27:52).

[Text from OCA]

You were true and just, pious, blameless and holy, O glorious servant of God. You enlightened the world by your perseverance, much-afflicted Job. Therefore, we all honor and praise your divinely-wise memory.

#Christianity #Orthodox Christianity #Saint Job #Righteous Job the Long Suffering #Eastern Orthodoxy

5 notes · View notes

afniel · 1 year ago

Text

Nevi Infodumps Upon Request: MMX2

Because god damn let's just make this its own thing and stop doing it on some other poor bastard's post, what did they to do deserve me happening to them.

Also I have to make a correction! There is no Z-Saber in X1, I just remembered that goofy. Zero doesn't give you shit if you upgraded your arm parts, he just dies. It doesn't even exist until X2. I have no idea why I thought that considering I played it recently enough but despite appearances I'm not known for my great recall of chronological order shit.

THIS IS GONNA BE A LONG POST AND I HAVE REMEMBERED THAT "MANNERS" EXIST SINCE YESTERDAY SO. I am using a cut. And lowering my voice. This too is "manners."

@longshotlink I have done the thing! It does not stop from happening.

OKAY SO TO RECAP.

Mega Man X1: *slaps X* this bad boy can hold so much survivor's guilt and self-loathing.

There, that's it, that's the recap you get.

My second favorite game in the series is X2 and you're about to find out that I like them in the order they came out in, so this is going to look chronological. It is not! Not really. This is a coincidence.

Six months after X got PTSD real bad from everyone he knows dying/being killed by him (except technically Dr. Cain I GUESS, I forgot he existed for a moment there) he's still tracking down Sigma's followers and presumably shooting the hell out them. He goes to an abandoned reploid factory with the Maverick Hunters, where Green Biker Dude dies after a glorious ten seconds of doing nothing but popping a sick wheelie on a Ride Chaser and getting shot to fuck.

Rip to a real one, I guess. Pour one out for Green Biker Dude while we're here.

(Because we source our art here, this is by Springqueen on DeviantART.)

X tears through the factory and kills a huge-ass mechaniloid—wait, you say, the hell is a mechaniloid, we got reploids but that hasn't come up yet? Well, see, there's normal robots, and there's people robots, and mechaniloids are the normal robots who aren't really self-aware, and you literally cannot predict who the fuck is which:

This is a sentient being, with a rich inner life and emotions equivalent to a human's! (Only the C-15 model from X1, though, after that they're mechaniloids.)

This man is just a really fancy computer who can't actually feel anything!

I am not even joking. This is canon. Figure it out! I sure can't. It is a mystery. Nothing makes sense and everything is confusing and quite possibly bad.

There are three dudes ominously watching X and talking about some kind of nonsense bullshit crap, and these guys are Agile, who is tall, smirky, and pointy; Serges, who is short, Dr. Wily, and pointy; and Violen, who is huge, dumb as a sack of hammers, and pointy.

No really, they're all kinda pointy. For some reason they specifically have pointy feet. And they're talking about 'the control chip' and being all m~y~s~t~e~r~i~o~u~s but let's just get it out of the way. These mofos are reassembling Zero for nefarious reasons. Why? Well, you see, when you're Keiji Inafune and you just made a game, even though you teased a sequel in the post-credits, you totally did not think this through (because you have never thought anything all the way through in your life and you are not beginning now!) and now you're stuck, because you WANTED to make Zero the main character, got talked out of it, and then somehow ended up killing your intended main character. And everyone else. The only surviving named characters are X and Dr. Cain, and like...now what, right? Shit. Fuck. You fucked it up. You were supposed to leave some guys for the sequel. Well uhhhh they're all robots, just...reassemble someone real fast. Like Zero. You wanted him to be the cool one anyway, let's try that again but not wrong this time!

But never mind that! It's all fixable. Everything is fixable. Even Zero! Well, no, X isn't fixable, he's a goddamn mess, but details, man.

This gets a LITTLE fucky to summarize because there's some branching paths, so I'm gonna flip back to the actual game side for a second. X2 actually fucking slaps as a game. It's got an extra math coprocessor in the cartridge! Did you know that? The Cx4 chip showed up again in MMX3, and was the reason X2 suddenly had WAY more onscreen sprites, transparency effects, and even 3D wireframe enemies. This shit was amazing on the SNES.

Also, X2 is another case of "oh no, these Mavericks are ex-Hunters again," so like. ACAB. Not all of the Mavericks are, but still more than none, which you'd hope would be the number. They have not learned shit about shit for vetting members. The call is coming from inside the house, guys! Maybe Hunter HQ should think about the implications of the fact that—*I am shot in the head by Keiji Inafune, who has never once thought something all the way through in his life and is not beginning now, killing me instantly*

In X1 there were basically three kinds of defector:

I'm So Bored Please God Kill Me Now

I Just Love Hitting Things

and

Whatever You Say Chief!

Well, and Storm Eagle's unfortunate little thing of

I Got My Ass Beat To Hell And Back Until I Said Fine I'll Kill The Humans With You Just To Make It Stop And All I Got Was This Terminate On Sight Designation T-Shirt

X2 is a little more varied than that. You now have the new exciting backstory flavors of

I Love Money More Than My Life And This Guy Promised Me A Raise, Sooooo... (Bubble Crab)

The Bad Guys Are Somehow Less Ableist Than The Good Guys (Overdrive Ostrich, who USED TO be able to fly, lost the ability in an accident, and retired because the Hunters were kind of treating him like damaged goods and he was over it. Editor's note I do not blame this dude at all, what the fuck!)

BLOCK OUT THE SUN (Flame Stag)

I Love Trash (Morph Moth, who was not a Hunter)

Idk I Was Already Doing Crimes, Might As Well (Crystal Snail, also not a Hunter)

Sigma Is My Literal Dad (Wire Sponge, made in one of Sigma's reploid factories. He came out wrong even for a Maverick. Good job, Sigma. Great quality control.)

There's Still No Virus In The Continuity But I Sure Caught It Somehow Anyway?? Help Me (Magna Centipede, who used to be in Zero's unit, but got 'brainwashed' somehow.)

(This happens a lot. This will keep happening. Zero collects subordinates who are just WAITING for an excuse. Also this will make a whole lot more sense once they retcon in the Maverick Virus and then MORE sense once they retcon in that it is coming from Zero specifically but we aren't there yet so right now it's just weird and kind of unfortunate!)

And you still have at least one I Just Love Hitting Things (Wheel Gator).

Also why are so many of these guys invertebrates? This is like the invertebrate game. X1 has two, but X2 has five of these things. (X3 has three, X4 has two again, X5 has three again, X6 has three, X7 only has one, and you will not see another game with five again until X8, the last one. I don't know why I went to count that.)

After X whacks a few of the Maverick stage bosses, there's a little cutscene at Dr. Cain's lab. The three shadowy weirdos from the intro call Dr. Cain to say like, "Hey, X, we named ourselves the X-Hunters for reasons you'll never be able to guess, and also we have Zero's parts. Meet us at the wherever the hell on the map we visibly teleport to after this in fifteen minutes for an ass-kicking." They hang up, Dr. Cain is like, "Well, it's fine, we still have Zero's control chip here and they can't really resurrect him without it, plus this is obviously bait, so maybe don't do anything too hast—"

X declares he's got to get Zero's parts back at any cost and runs the fuck off, because he's fine, okay. He doesn't wanna talk about it.

This scene is way more interesting in Japanese, where Serges and only Serges slips a bit and calls him Rockman X, which is sus, because nobody really mentions Rockman in the games, except for some reason Dr. Cain in English who calls him Mega Man X. Dr. Cain has actually read Dr. Light's notes so he's got at least a historical reason to be doing this, but Serges wouldn't know that shit, right? It is definitely unrelated that the Japanese materials describe Serges as having comparable intellect to a certain unnamed mad scientist. It is also certainly coincidence that despite Zero being an absolutely undocumented black box of a Wily creation, Serges somehow knows how to upgrade him too.

Let's assume for the plot that X does go through and collect all of Zero's parts, which is his head, torso, and legs. Now correct me if I'm wrong but his head did not actually fall off in X1...but meh, details, right? Once you have all three, Dr. Cain says he needs a little more time to get Zero's control chip installed, so go deal with the other Mavericks until then. Then, once you do that, he tells you it's going to take even MORE time, but hey, the X-Hunters are hanging out at the North Pole, like some kind of shitty dollar store Santa Clauses who come down your chimney and murder you. So X fucks off to the North Pole to do some violence, and shoots the hell out all three of the X-Hunters, like you do. In Japanese, Serges is kind of pissed that "Light's memento robot" defeated him, which again...yeah, that seems normal, nothing to see here!

Once X murderhobos his way through the rematch fights, he gets a random zoom call from Sigma, who invites him to come to the central computer in fifteen minutes for an ass-kicking, and once there he gets a nasty surprise: his buddy Zero is there, chilling, and Sigma is like, "Lol he's so mad that you let him die. Look at how upset he's getting. Look at his fists. They're balled. He wants to beat you up so bad." Except, assuming you collected all of Zero's parts, this is a shitty dollar store Zero with a palette swap, and the real Zero is offended as shit and shows up and kills the fuck out of his copy, saving you a fight. Sigma is like, "WHY are you not on my side though man you should be. You should totally be on my side and fighting him instead, it's your destiny." Zero's like, "Maybe so, but I still don’t like you!" <- Unlike almost everything else I keep putting in quotation marks, that's a real quote. I'm not making that one up. It's even better in Japanese because it's SO DISMISSIVE the way he says it. It's literally, "It's because I don't like you," but you'd almost have to localize it to something like "It's because I don't like your face," to convey the don't-give-a-singular-fuck disdain. He's just like, fuck your stupid destiny thing, do I look like the kind of person who cares.

I feel like this game is just kind of less interesting at the end than X1. Sigma did actually run off to Magna Centipede's level for his final stage for some reason, which is unusual. A lot of the implied angst in the first game exists, and X basically ignoring Dr. Cain's attempt at warning him to be careful because OH MY GOD WHAT IF HE CAN FIX THIS ONE THING AND MAYBE AT LEAST ONE PERSON HE CARES ABOUT WILL BE OKAY is pretty good. And once you blow up Sigma, he does have a little foreshadowing about Zero being "the last of the doctor's creations," or MUCH more specifically in Japanese, being "the last of the Wi...num...ers..." aka the Wily Numbers, aka Dr. Wily's robots, which is like...where'd you hear that, hm? Were you talking to that shady Serges guy again who was also basically your lieutenant? Couldn't be he's someone from the past who would know all this shit.

But I'm not gonna touch the epilogue just yet because let's say X decided that actually he should focus on the mission at hand and ignore these guys clearly trying to goad him into doing something stupid. Good call, X! You have finally learned a little self-preservation. Except, this goes badly actaully, because the X-Hunters will break into Dr. Cain's lab, not butcher him for some reason even though that would have been the logical thing to do if they really wanted to fuck with X and hamper his efforts, and steal all of Zero's parts, including his control chip.

I have a little headcanon about the reason they didn't bother, but I'll save that for a second or three later. For now...

X fucks off to the North Pole as before, deals with the X-Hunters (who are now shitty dollar store Santa Clauses who come down your chimney and STEAL YOUR DEAD FRIEND'S LEGS??), meets Sigma at the central computer, and Zero is there, only that's the real Zero, and X has to fight him. Maybe for the first time, but not for the last time, because reasons! X wins, which apparently slaps some sense into Zero, who for some reason apologizes for causing so much trouble (probably having been resurrected, reprogrammed, and then kicked in the head by your bestie until you're unreprogrammed makes you stupid) and says he's going to go destroy the main computer.

Wait, what main computer, like do you mean this entire stage? When did we ever establish about there being a main computer that needed to be destroooooh fine whatever go destroy the main computer and X can just fall down this hole where Sigma is. X is like, "Take care of yourself, Zero. I don't have time to put you back together again," and once again that's a real quote and I'm not just being flippant. Was that an attempt at humor? In Japanese it's just, "Do you intend to die?" which is like. God damn, X. I know this is the point in the game in which Zero exploded himself last time, but he JUST got here, he's not going to Death Hug the computer too. But ya boy is evidently having a flashback.

From there things proceed as normal, X defeats Sigma, and this time,

Two of them.

Joined by his friend Zero, Mega Man X gazes out over the sea. Sigma has once again been destroyed, but X wonders if the fighting will truly end. Was Dr. Light’s dream of a world in which Reploids and humans lived together in peace merely a dream? The price of peace is often high, X thinks to himself. Who or what must be sacrificed for it to become a reality? And when the time comes, will he be able to do it? The future holds the answers or…

It's a lot less of a downer than X1 was. The music is tense and kinda gloomy, but it's not the endless despair party that X1's ending theme was. X is like, okay, maybe this will work out. Sigma's defeated again, this sucks and all, but he's clearly the bad guy in this situation so there's less of an internal conflict about Was This The Right Thing To Do. Obviously so! It's less, was this right, and more, can I do this? And Zero's back, so maybe even some of the mistakes are fixable. It's not going to be easy, sure, but it at least feels possible.

Or maybe it's hopeless after all. Will the fighting truly end?

Haha, no. But don't tell him that right now, I don't think he could handle it. Can you imagine. Let the poor dude rest for five minutes. Just let him have this one little victory. God damn.

Anyway, let's leave those guys on their cliff and go over here instead for

HEADCANON TIME oh boy let's do it!!

So, it is not at all a stretch to say that Serges is probably some kind of AI incarnation of Dr. Wily. The game is not explicit about this, no, but it's heavily implied in the Japanese version, and Keiji Inafune, who has never thought anything all the way through in his entire life and is not starting now, is on record as having left it intentionally vague so that you can draw your own conclusions. Weird thing to tease, if there weren't a little truth to it.

This takes some of the later games' plot existing to make sense, but I don't think the X-Hunters really exist to be subservient to Sigma and just carry out his funny little genocidal reploid rampage. It's established that Zero was created by Dr. Wily, and if there's one thing that you can count on with Dr. Wily, it's that he is the kind of guy who will create a whole guy whose personality is summed up by, "I exist to kill this other guy and then after that I have no idea." He definitely did this with Bass. He definitely did this with Zero. In fact he went so overboard with Zero's Kill A Guy programming that Zero wanted to kill EVERY guy upon activation, which Sigma had to beat out of him (X4), making him weirdly normal.

(In fact the original recipe Maverick Virus was just a day-one patch for Zero's omnicidal bullshit tendencies to make him fucking stop it, dude, you have things to be doing that aren't creating new Pollock works all over the buried lab every time like a rat or something wanders in. But then because Wily is kind of a shit programmer but a really good scavenger of other people's shit, the day-one patch went, fine, you suck, I'm doing a world tour and getting stronger and coming back and FIXING YOU. Maverick Virus out.)

Now if you were some kind of AI version of Dr. Wily watching this—your favorite and final murder machine that you made specifically to kill Dr. Light's little baby-boo-bop hugs and love machine—and he is NOT doing that, he is in fact BECOMING BESTIES FOR LIFE with his enemy, this is not cool! This is just more proof that you are a bad programmer. Or, your original meatsuit self was a bad programmer, and now YOU are a program made of and by a bad programmer, which is arguably WORSE. It's enough to give a guy a FUCKING COMPLEX. Which is also a common thing to happen to any given Wily creation.

So your goal, here, because you think you're Dr. Wily or close enough to count, is to manipulate the situation into getting Zero to remember that he's supposed to be biting X to death with his teeth, not whatever the fuck pattycake he's playing with him right now, what the FUCK. WHAT the FUCK. Ahem.

If you have the X-Hunters kill Dr. Cain, well, that's not going to incentivize this happening at all. X is going to be so mad he kills you, and that's not optimal for shit. So fuck that guy. We ignore him. Unused variable. Just get Zero's parts and scram, because the important thing is rebuilding Zero, not fingerpainting with the innards of some human. (Even if Violen would probably be into that, but he's an idiot whose text box dialogue even appears more slowly than anyone else's, you can't listen to him if you want to get ahead in life.)

Sigma is really secondary to this too. He's very conveniently placed, and kind of easy to manipulate: just tell him that you know all about Zero (which is true) and that he's supposed to be on Sigma's side (which is close enough to true that he won't question it) and you can make this happen (you think you can. IT SHOULD WORK. Dammit. How bad of a programmer was your mental predecessor, anyway?). So Sigma kindly sets up everything for you, and you do your thing.

And they fight! Finally. It is glorious. Of course you are dead by the time this happens, probably, but maybe you aren't, because you have probably vacated your trashed-ass body into some other convenient system. (You will definitely not show up in X6 as some guy named Isoc, who upon finishing his work, goes absolutely inert like his whole-ass self just left his body, which you have definitely not just done and will not do again.)

EXCEPT GOD DAMMIT ZERO X HIT YOU IN THE HEAD HARD ENOUGH YOU CALMED DOWN AGAIN. GOD. DAMMIT. WHY THIS. FUCK. Okay, yeah, you're leaving. See y'all in X6, this sucks.

Anyway the real takeaway here is that Dr. Wily was just such a big fan of percussive maintenance that Zero occasionally needs to get beaten in the head with a wrench for a bit and then he's great for a while. If he starts twitching, that just means it's Wrench Time.

Anyway, that's X2, my second most favorite one.

Wire Sponge is a luffa, by the way. Loofah. However it's spelled.

This thing. That's what he is.

And I will not stop calling centipedes 'hyakuleggers' now because Magne Hyakulegger is way funner than Magna Centipede as a name.

#long post #I have been asked to infodump and SO I HAVE #Mega Man X2 #mmx #mega man x

6 notes · View notes

mybeautifulchristianjourney · 2 years ago

Text

On Holy Ground

by Charles H. Spurgeon

“OUR Father, which art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name, Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” We fear that we often begin our prayer with petitions for ourselves and put our daily bread before Thy kingdom and the pardoning of our sins before the hallowing of Thy name. We would not do so today, but guided by our Lord’s model of prayer, we would first pray for Thy glory and here, great God, we would adore Thee. Thou hast made us and not we ourselves. We are Thy people and the sheep of Thy pasture. All glory be unto Thee, Jehovah, the only living and true God.

With heart and mind, and memory and fear, and hope and joy, we worship the Most High. It well becomes us to put our shoes from off our feet when we draw near to God, for the place whereon we stand is holy ground. If God in the bush demanded the unsandalled foot of the prophet, how much more shall God in Christ Jesus?

With lowliest reverence, with truest love, we worship God in Christ Jesus, uniting therein with all the redeemed host above, with angels and principalities and powers. We cannot cast crowns at His feet, for we have none as yet, but if there be any virtue, if there be any praise, if there be about us anything of grace and good repute, we ascribe it all to God. We cannot veil our faces with our wings, for we have none, but we veil them with something better than angelic wings, the blood and righteousness of Jesus Christ. With these we cover our faces, with these we cover our feet, and with these we fly up to God in holiest fellowship of God. Glory, and honor, and power, and dominion be unto Him that sitteth upon the throne and unto the Lamb forever and forever.

Great God, we long that Thou mayest be known unto the ends of the earth, that the idols may be utterly abolished. We long that false doctrine may fly like birds of darkness before the light and Thy coming. Reign Thou in the hearts of our fellow-men. Lord, subdue sin and under Thy feet let drunkenness, and unchastity, and oppression, and every form of wickedness be put away by the Gospel of Jesus Christ and His Holy Spirit.

Oh! that today, even today, many hearts might be won to God. Convince men of the wrong of being alienated from God. Put into their hearts sorrow for sin and dread of wrath to come, and lead and drive men to Christ. Oh! how we pray for this, the salvation of our fellow-men, not so much for their sakes as for the sake of the glory of God and the rewarding of Christ for His pain.

We do with all our hearts pray, “Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven.” Lord, help us to do Thy will. Take the crippled kingdom of our manhood and reign Thou over it. Let spirit and body be consecrated to God. May there be no reserves. May everything be given up to Thee. Reign forever! Pierced King, despised and nailed to a tree, sit Thou on the glorious high throne in our hearts and may our lives prove that Thou art Lord over us by our every thought and desire, and imagination, and word, and act, in every respect being under Thy divine control.

Thy people breathe to Thee out of their very hearts the prayer that Thou mayest reign over us without a rival. O Savior, use for Thyself what Thou hast bought with blood, and drive out the enemy, and let no power have any dominion over us except the power of Thy good Spirit which worketh righteousness and peace.

We pray today also that Thy truth may prevail against the many anti-Christs that have gone forth against it. Our Father, restore a pure language to Thy Zion once again. Take away, we pray Thee, the itching for new doctrine, the longing for that which is thought to be scientific and wise above what is written, and may Thy Church come to her moorings, may she cast anchor in the truth of God and there abide. And if it be Thy will, may we live to see brighter and better times.

If it might be so, we would pray for the coming of our Lord very speedily to end these sluggish years, these long delaying days. But if He come not, yet put power into Thy truth and quicken Thy Church that she may become energetic for the spread of it, that so Thy kingdom may come. This do we seek first and above everything, the glory of God. We ask for grace that we may live with this end in view. May we lay ourselves out to it. May this be our morning thought, the thought that we have in our minds when we lay awake at nights. What shall I do, my Savior, to praise? How can I make Him illustrious and win another heart to His throne? Now bless us. Forgive us our trespasses wherein we have sinned against Thee. Seal our pardon upon our consciences and make us feel that as we truly forgive them that trespass against us, so hast Thou forgiven us all our iniquities. We pray Thee, lead us not into temptation. Do not try us, Lord, nor suffer the devil to try us. If we must be tried then deliver us from evil, and especially from the evil one, that he may get no dominion over us.

Oh! keep us, Lord. This life is full of trial. There are many that are perplexed about temporary things. Let not the enemy lead them to do or think aught that is amiss, because of the straitness of supply. Others are blessed with prosperity. Lord, let it not be a curse to them. Let them know how to abound as well as to suffer loss. In all things may they be instructed to glorify God, not only with all they are, but with all they have, and even with all they have not, by a holy contentment to do without that which it doth not please Thee to bestow.

And then, Lord, give us day by day our daily bread. Provide for Thy poor people. Let them not think that the provision for themselves rests fully on themselves, but may they cry to Thee, for Thou hast said, “Thy bread shall be given thee, thy waters shall be sure.” If we follow Thee, if Thou lead us into a desert, Thou wilt strew our path with manna. May Thy people believe this and let them have no care, but like the birds of the air which neither sow nor gather into barns and yet are fed, so may Thy people be.

But above all, give us spiritual help. Give us wisdom, which is profitable to get. Give us the absence of all self-seeking and a complete yielding up of our desires to the will of God. Help us to be as Christ was, who was not His own, but gave Himself to His Father for our sins. So may we for His sake give ourselves up to do or suffer the will of our Father who is in heaven.

Remember Thy people in their families and convert their children. Give us help and strength. Spare precious lives that are in danger. Be gracious to any that are dying. May the life of God swallow up the death of the body. Prepare us all for Thy glorious advent. Keep us waiting and watching and do Thou come quickly to our heart’s desire, for we pray, “Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven, for Thine is the kingdom, and the power and the glory, forever and ever.” Amen.

#Charles Spurgeon #On Holy Ground #prayer

9 notes · View notes