#how to get jannah easily

[a-journey-to-true-self]

A Ticket To Jannah (Paradise)

Narrated Anas bin Malik (RA): “Once Muadh was along with Allahs Apostle ﷺ as a companion rider. Allahs Apostle ﷺ said, “O Muadh bin Jabal.” Muadh replied, “Labbaik and Sadaik. O Allahs Apostle! ﷺ ” Again the Prophet ﷺ said, “O Muadh!” Muadh said thrice, “Labbaik and Sadaik, O Allahs Apostle! ﷺ ” Allahs Apostle ﷺ said, “There is none who testifies sincerely that none has the right to be worshipped…

[9amartt]

A thing i’ve noticed lately is how common “depression” has become, to the point that it became a topic seriously discussed in masaajid and schools, and visiting therapists became extremely common too -all of this is good to an extent-. What is concerning is how the generation before us was completely against the idea of anything called “mental illness” or “mental health” in general, causing this generation now to be extremely thirsty for these terms and therefore use them for everything.

Anyone who has been raised in a secular (especially western) system knows very well how much this mindset has been fed to us and to our children, the way they managed to make us like glass, -weak and easily scattered- and the way they made every single form of self improvement “low self esteem” or “toxic” to the point where everyone uses their life obstacles as excuses to not do their best in their affairs.

We do not disregard the effects of bad mental health at all, especially as muslims we believe in physical mental and soul ailments, however for this to be used as an excuse to abandon action… that is where we draw the line.

Never tie your action to your mood, act according to your goal, is your goal jannah? Strive for it when depressed and when scared and when sick and when happy and when grieving… always.

You are not here to be depressed, leave depression for those who do not know their lord. Those are rightfully depressed, you are not.

You have a lord you can speak to in the night.. but who will sacrifice his sleep to talk with Allah!!? This is the issue..

Allah is our lord and they have no lord.

You have Allah with you, we all have problems, from the beginning of the call to islam to now no one was free from grief, not even the dearest person to Allah- muhammad ﷺ- He tested every type of pain to be an example for us.

He tasted loss of parents,

And not just that but he knew they died upon other than islam.

He tasted loss of children.

He lost his beloved wife.

He lost his uncle and had to forgive his killer.

He was dragged and hit and mocked belittled and belied.

He was forsaken by his people.

He was betrayed.

He was lied to.

His honour -that of Aisha- was slandered and still is to this day.

His illnesses were not like those we experience, but much more severe.

…..

All of this and he is the dearest to Allah!

Read the lives of the sahaba and the righteous, you will notice a clear pattern, the closer one is to Allah and the dearer he is to Him, the more tested. And many will say “oh I am not being tested at all my life is easy” aren’t you struggling with your mental health? Isn’t that a test?

Aren’t all these blessings a test too?

Isn’t your comfort a test as well?

Worship is not easy, that is why the one who struggles in worship gets rewarded more than those who don’t, so stand up, leave your misery there where you were sat, read a few pages of the quran for Baraka, and go ahead with that which you have been procrastinating.

And do not expect it to be easy, many of the salaf would say: “ I forced myself to do worship for TWENTY years! After twenty years it became easy”

So do not expect quick results, expect to fall and slip, this is what we all do, what matters is that you stand up after you fall.

And abandon that cursed social media which has become a drug we all consume, if you really need to keep posting or really need to stay active, then do so in a browser and not the app, it usually is less practical and less addicting there.

May Allah guide you and us and safeguard you and us from the plots of the evils of mankind and jinn.

[shartletswritings]

You've Dug Your Own Grave

CHAPTER 3: Fight Me

No TW!

Enjoy <333

Ekko happily agrees to get a small team together to take you back to your apartment to grab your stuff. You would prefer to go alone, but you relent when he reminds you that you don’t actually know how to get to and from the hideout considering you were blinded when you were brought in. He tells you the plan once you’re at dinner and feeling a lot better after a much-needed nap. You sit in a similar formation as earlier, besides Scar, who is completely absent from the mess hall. You’re happy about that, totally not slightly bummed you don’t have someone to poke fun at. Even if it means you need to behave like a mostly civilized person at the table.

            “Malia and Geo are gonna go with you tomorrow night and you can get whatever you need, sound good?” Ekko’s voice is steady over the chatter of the crowded room. You still haven’t met Geo, but the time you’ve spent with Malia so far has been nice, so you really can’t complain.

            “Thanks, I appreciate it. Most of it is junk, but it would be nice to have some of it with me,” you admit.

            “You shoulda seen how much crap Jordyn brought when they moved in. It took six of us just to bring it back,” Malia says, others nod in agreement, looking haggard just from the memory. You giggle.

            A short, skinny man with long black hair tied in a tight bun sits down at the table across from you, “You’re the new girl, right? Good to meetcha, I’m Geo,” he says, eyes shifting between you and his meager plate of food made up of mostly meat, “I’ve heard a lot about ya.” He takes a mouthful of food and chews quickly, something about his behavior reminds you of a street cat. Before you can even answer you, he continues despite his mouth full of food, “You been on a hoverboard yet?”

            “Hoverboard? Oh, those things you guys ride? No I haven’t.” You take another bite of food, the stewed fish in your bowl surprisingly palatable.

            Geo cracks a wide, toothy smile, bits of rice stuck to his teeth, “I know what we’re doing after dinner.” You arch one eyebrow suspiciously.

            “Geo, you’re gonna kill her,” a man at the table speaks up but Geo waves him off with a stray hand, bringing one foot up to his chair to half crouch on his seat.

            “She’ll be fine, right new girl?”

            You twist your lips in thought, how hard can it be? You’re pretty sure you saw a kid half your age on one this morning. “Yeah, sure, why not.”

 

            You make it all the way outside with a long, black board in hand before you realize you are in deep over your head. The thing is easily taller than half your height, but it surprisingly only weighs a few pounds. Geo runs you through the basics of steering the board; lean where you want to go, press down on your heels to slow down, press on your toes to speed up. It sounds easy enough, right?

            With the board laid flat on the ground, you gingerly step onto the grooves marked for your feet. Some mechanism close to the surface—exactly what you don’t know—locks your feet onto the hoverboard. “Alright, you wanna dig your toes in hard to get it started, like this,” Geo demonstrates and raises a few inches above the ground, but his voice is already feeling far away. Maybe it would be best if I didn’t do this, you think when you notice the small group of Firelights gathering nearby to watch your first attempt. You pick out Jordyn and Malia and silently pray to Jannah or whoever the hell is listening that you don’t embarrass yourself.

            You take a deep breath and follow Geo’s instructions. As expected, the board glows green as it comes to life, the sound of fans whirring as it begins to slowly raise. Geo made it look significantly easier because as soon as the board leaves the ground you completely lose your balance, landing flat on your ass into the dirt—hitting the exact spot you landed on last night. Pain rockets down your legs and you can distantly here people snicker at your failure. The pain shifts to embarrassment, and you clench your jaw; fuck this.

            Immediately you get back up, righting yourself on the board. You dig your toes in like Geo said but this time you’re prepared. Clenching your abs you manage to maintain your balance as you raise up slightly higher. Geo looks slightly surprised, and you smirk triumphantly. A few firelights behind you mumble their approval but you don’t risk turning to look at them; you’re pretty convinced that if you break concentration for even a second, you’ll fall back on your ass.

            “Ok… pretty good,” Geo sounds nonplussed which only adds kindling to the fire burning at your feet. “Now try going around the tree, like this.” He takes off in a blur of green and black in the dying sunlight of the evening, curving around the base of the tree before rounding the corner a few moments later.

            “Take it slow, newbie.” It’s Jordyn’s voice and you clench your jaw, everything in you screaming to ignore their advice; what’s the point of doing it if you can’t show off? Better to go slow then land on my ass again, you remind yourself.

            Gently you press your toes into the board, gradually increasing speed. Its… not as hard as you expected? Seems like getting up was the hardest bit because you find moving to be pretty instinctual. As you begin to form a wide angle around the tree you have to fight the urge to speed up, instead keeping the hoverboard moving at a decently quick speed but just slow enough to still be able to focus on your surroundings, staying low to the ground just in case you fall again.

            By the time you come back to Geo and the small group of Firelights a smug smile has spread on your face. It only grows wider when you slow down enough to see the looks of approval on their faces. “This supposed to be hard or something?” You can practically see Chross shaking his head in disappointment at your hubris. Good thing he isn’t here right now.

            “I think a toddler could go faster than you,” Geo calls and you scowl.

            Flipping him off, you dig your toes down, forcing the board faster. The next loop you make is easily twice as fast and your confidence begins to increase. You can’t believe you ever doubted yourself. You crouch down slightly, allowing the board to angle up to steadily climb higher. Soon you’re about level with Ekko’s balcony. You take a moment to float and take in the hideout as the sun continues to set—only losing your balance for one sickening, heart-dropping moment. It really is gorgeous; the golden lights strewn about make it seem as though the whole area is glowing. You think you could get used to a place like this. Somewhere full of life and love despite the horrors that wait just through the tunnels.

            Feeling especially brave, you continue to climb, the board responding delightfully to even the smallest movements of your feet—Ekko must be a genius, you think. You continue to spiral up the tree and by the time you reach the top you have decided that, without a doubt, you made the right choice joining the Firelights this morning. You’ve never felt more free in your entire life, not when you made your first deal, not when you left the Company, not when you rented that shitty apartment. It is this moment, fifty feet above the ground, that you feel like a person again, for the first time in years.

            A hum behind you catches your attention and you pivot slightly in the air to see Geo floating up towards you. You try not to feel too bad about yourself when you see how much confidence he has in his stance on the hoverboard compared to your awkward balancing act. He flashes you another toothy smile, “You aren’t half bad, girl.” It’s honestly shocking that one man can be both horrifically slimy and charming at the same time, “Thought for sure you’d fall on your ass at least a couple more times.”

            As if on cue, your balance falters for a second and he laughs but you catch yourself much quicker this time, “Don’t flatter yourself, you may make it look easy but it sure as hell isn’t hard.” Assuming you have an insane amount of core strength. You aren’t in bad shape, far from it, but your abs are starting to burn the longer you stand and talk to him. You begin your descent, slower this time to take the chance to savor the wind rushing through your hair.

            By the time you make it back to the ground a few of the Firelights have trickled away but a good chunk of the group looks at you approvingly as you make your clumsy dismount. Adjusting to walking on two legs takes a moment but you only stumble a couple times. Malia walks up to you, “You’re pretty good, have you done this before?”

            You shake your head, still beaming, “It just felt… natural? I guess?” Honestly you aren’t quite sure, but as soon as you got over your initial embarrassment of failing, it wasn’t too difficult.

Jordyn, who had been leaning against Malia, nods their agreement and claps a hand onto your shoulder heavy enough to rattle your jaw. You wince but smile up at them, nonetheless. Something inside of you feels a bit apprehensive at the sudden rush of attention; like a coddled child, but you push it aside willing yourself to enjoy the moment.

 

            You finally arrive back in your room and curl into your bed with a satisfied oof, happy to be off your feet and away from any public scrutiny. Thinking about tomorrow, a bitter-sweet pang hits your chest. Sure you’re happy to be here with the Firelights; if your mood this evening meant anything. But it feels strange at the same time: to even consider living a different life from the one you’ve known for so long. A natural distrust of strangers has been drilled into your head for years now and yet here is this community, welcoming you, a stranger, with open arms. And they’re thriving, better than anything you saw under Chross or on the streets by yourself. Could they really have a place for you here? Ekko and Malia seem to think so, although you can’t be quite sure how much of that is just due to loyalty to Ekko.

            You continue to toss, mind wandering incessantly as you try to sleep. Is it that hard to let yourself be happy? For once? You sit up with a huff; this isn’t going to work. You need sleep, logically you know this, but it just won’t seem to come.

            It doesn’t take long to make your way back to the courtyard and the moonlight provides a respite from the unnatural lights illuminating the hallways of the sleeping quarters. The air outside isn’t quite cool, but the dampness of the evening gives rise to goosebumps along your exposed arms; you don’t bother covering the branding now that most of the Firelights have gone to bed.

            A small green light catches your eye as you walk further into the courtyard, and you initially think it’s a hoverboard in the distance but upon closer inspection you realize it’s a small lightning bug. You can’t recall ever seeing one that glows green, so you reach up to capture it gently in your hands. It’s larger than the ones you’ve seen in Piltover—the trenches are usually too polluted to see them and you aren’t even sure they normally exist down here—green light seeming to come from both its abdomen and wings. You un-cup your hand and watch it fly away, marveling at the sight of it. The longer you stand there, staring up at the night sky, the more of the little bugs you see flitting around the tree. It reminds you of your reason for coming outside in the first place.

            It doesn’t take long to find a hoverboard leaning against the concrete wall. You look over your shoulder and, once satisfied no one is around to see you, place it down, fitting your shoes into the footholds. Just as you are about to press your toes in and wake it up, you hear a shuffle behind you. You turn to see Scar standing a few feet behind you, because of course you do.

            “There a reason you’re using my board?” His arms are crossed.

            Oops. You didn’t know this was his board, “Maybe you shouldn’t leave it lying around if you don’t want someone to take it.”

            He narrows his green eyes, shining nearly the same color as the bugs flying around you, “Maybe you shouldn’t take things that don’t belong to you,” he echoes, rather too smugly for your liking.

            You shrug your shoulders, “Come take it from me then.”

            The board hums to life under your feet and you take off much faster than you had anticipated. Fuck fuckfuckfuck. You throw your arms out to your sides wildly for balance as you go careening towards the wall. Thankfully you manage to get your feet underneath you instead of to your side thus avoiding smashing Scar’s hoverboard. Unfortunately this means that your body takes the impact; scraping down the wall and onto the dirt, feet released from the board as it slides a few meters away from you.

            By the time you finally open your eyes after having them clamped shut from both pain and humiliation, Scar is looking down at you with an annoyed sneer, hoverboard in hand. You think you hear him mumble “Idiot” as he walks away, but its hard to tell over the blood rushing through your ears. You sit up and rest your forehead on your bent knees, giving yourself a few more moments to wallow in the embarrassment you feel before standing back up. Just before he walks back into the hut he looks back at you over his shoulders and leaves his hoverboard on the wall. It’s hard to tell in the relative darkness, but you see a glint of something in his eyes. You smirk despite yourself.

            Finally mustering up the courage you return to the board. It’s still warm in your hand as you place it back on the ground. This time, you make sure to start slow, gradually increasing speed until you feel confident enough to hold your balance. You spend the next… however many hours practicing.

            You don’t stop zipping around until you see a couple people begin to trickle into the mess hall. Fuck, morning already? Sure enough, the sky is beginning its shift from gray-black into a deep purple. You sigh and return to the ground to leave Scar’s board close to where he left it and hobble back to your room to catch at least a couple hours of sleep until, inevitably, the movement of soldiers getting ready for the morning wakes you.

 

            You press the heels of your hands into your eyes and drag yourself out of bed. The clothes from Eve have a bit of dirt on them from your fall, but you don’t really have any other options so you brush off what you can, push your hair out of your face, and walk to find some breakfast.

            “You alright?” Malia asks as you sit down across from her, a bowl of steaming noodles in her hands, “You don’t look great.”

            “Yeah I’m fine. I couldn’t sleep is all.” You take a sip of the spicy broth hoping it’ll jumpstart your sluggish brain.

            “It’s not easy. Adjusting, I mean. Took me a while to settle in. Give yourself time.”

            You give her a humph in acknowledgement before taking a long slurp of your own noodles. “Speaking of which,” you finally say with your mouth half full, “when are we heading out?”

            She swallows her bite before answering, “As soon as Geo is up, really.” The door opens and Geo walks in. “As soon as Geo is ready,” she corrects. You smile and take another bite.

            Behind him, Scar dips his head slightly in the low doorframe and walks in. He meets your eye for a second but doesn’t react.

            Geo sits next to Malia with a mug of coffee, “Saw you zipping around last night,” he says as he takes a sip.

           Malia lifts an eyebrow at you but says nothing. “Couldn’t sleep,” you answer, shrugging. Thinking back on it, perhaps flying around all night wasn’t the best idea with the way your legs and core burn with every movement you make. But you’ll be damned if you let yourself be a weak link to anyone, especially the Firelights.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

            The three of you are sent off by Ekko who opens the stone door covering the main exit tunnel, “Come back in one piece,” he says, and you give him a small wave.

            The tunnel out of the hideout is not as horrid as you were expecting. Clearly, all of the sewage tunnels around the base are inactive, but even still, certain… substances tend to stick around. The light from your three collective torches illuminates the curved space you walk through and so far, you haven’t seen anything too awful. Geo and Malia are maskless, to keep a low profile, she had said. It makes sense, this certainly isn’t “official” Firelight business.

            The tunnel leads to the outskirts of a market you used to frequent when you were still working for the Company. It’s almost funny: how close you must have gotten to the life you find yourself living. You’re able to take up the lead and walk your small group to your apartment down in the sumps.

            It isn’t nice, even by undercity standards, but you can still remember how fucking proud of yourself you were the day you moved in. Despite the mold, and the roaches, and the exorbitant rent, it was yours and no one besides your smarmy landlord could take it from you.

            “The two of you can wait down here. It’s really not that much that I need to grab,” you offer to Malia and Geo at the door of the building.

            Malia answers with a shake of her head, “It’s fine, we don’t mind.” Geo looks like he does, but says nothing.

            The three of you are breathing heavily by the time you make it to the seventh floor and down the hall to your old apartment. You go to fumble in your pocket for your key before you realize that you must have lost it in the fire the other night. At least I don’t have to go to my landlord and beg for a new one, you think, gratefully. Just as you are about to kick the door in, you notice that the hinges are already bent. A gentle push to the door sends it swinging inwards. “Huh,” is all you say and the two behind you stay quiet.

            The apartment itself is a wreck. Not that you are an exceptionally clean person, but you certainly didn’t leave it with drawers thrown around and piles of stuff littering the ground. “Shit, someone fuckin robbed you.” Geo’s voice makes it sound like he’s smiling.

            You don’t turn back to him, still gazing at the mess in front of you, “Yeah… guess so.” A beat. “There wasn’t much to take, so they wasted their time.”

            You take a step into the room and immediately walk to the fridge in the kitchen off to the side of the small studio style apartment. With a huff, you pull the fridge from the wall and sure enough, your pathetic stash of savings is still there. You smile and pocket it. “I’m just gonna grab some clothes and we can go,” you say.

            You begin shoving handfuls of clothes into the empty bag you brought, not bothering to fold them from where they lay in piles on the floor. It is strange, you think, that the thieves didn’t take anything, at least nothing you can tell. Really, it’s their own fault, robbing an apartment in the sumps, no one down here has anything worth stealing.

            Just before you’re about to leave, a piece of paper on your kitchen table catches your attention. It’s a… letter? You pick it up and turn it around in your hands. The blood rushes from your face when you see the insignia pressed into the wax seal matching the one branded into your arm. With shaking fingers you tear the envelope open and rip the paper out.

 

Start running

-C

 

            Warm, sour spit gathers in your mouth and you swallow, trying to force your breakfast back down your throat. There is no mistaking exactly who this is from: Chross, head of the Hush Company.

            “Hey, you alright?” It’s Malia behind you. You crumple the letter and shove it into your pocket, turning to look at her.

            “Yeah. Fine. Sorry. We can go.” You feel lightheaded the longer you think about it, so you just…don’t.

            “…Right,” she finally says. Geo looks bored as he leans against the wall, digging under his nails with a knife.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

            You’re silent the whole way back to the base, mind and stomach churning in a nauseating cycle. Scar is the one opening the door of the hideout for you once you make it back and you don’t even look at him.

            It isn’t until you are back in your quarters and safely alone that you let the rising panic overtake you. You start by pacing back and forth in front of your bed until the fear clenching your heart becomes too painful and you crumple to the ground, folded over your legs. You can’t even form coherent thoughts, only a few words slip through the jumble forming in your mind screaming down at you like incessant crows.

            And then the tears come. Horrible, chest splitting sobs leave your mouth and you shove your face in your hands in a desperate attempt to muffle yourself. How did they know where to find you? You’re supposed to be dead to them. Thoughts are beginning to form in your brain. You wish they wouldn’t, you wish you could just sit in stupid, heart clenching fear. But you’re stuck here, sobbing like a child as you clutch desperately at the floor, running nails down cement painfully. It’s the pain that breaks you out of your wailing enough to stop.

            Until you stop breathing. Breathe, you tell yourself, but your throat feels smaller and smaller as you struggle to inhale. Why can’t I breathe? The little bit of air you manage to suck in does nothing to calm the pain bursting in your chest. Are you having a heart attack? God, you hope not. The last thing you need is a Firelight coming into your room to find you dead on the ground.

            No. You need to get out of this room. Now. The walls feel like they’re closing in on you and it’s only suffocating you more.

            You run down the halls and out into the courtyard. Maybe this was a mistake. Everyone is too loud and too happy. Children rush past laughing in a way that might have made you smile a few hours ago but now it only adds to… whatever you feel. Fear? Sadness? Rage? All of them, you decide as you stomp through the dirt.

            In the blur of emotion that is your mind you remember Ekko showing you the training room on his tour yesterday. Yes. That’ll help. Punching things.

            You retrace the steps you remember taking until you find yourself in a room full of makeshift gear weights and punching bags that is mercifully empty of other people. Distantly you think about the fact that wrapping your hands would be smart, but you don’t think you have the dexterity to deal with the fabric with the way your hands are shaking.

            The firmness of the bag as you hit it helps. It helps a lot. You don’t worry about technique as much as you do about hitting it with as much force as you can muster. Soon, the only sounds you can hear are your own panting and your fists colliding with the bag. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” You yell in time with each punch before finishing with a kick to the bag. You lean against the wall to slide down onto the floor, head bent between your knees as you try and catch your breath.

            “You’re doing that wrong.”

            You whip your head up, squinting at Scar from the stinging of sweat in your eyes. “What the fuck did you just say?”

            “Your kick,” he clarifies, looking uninterested in this whole conversation despite being the one to start it, “your technique is shit; you have no balance and no power behind the hit. You’d be knocked on your ass if you tried that in a real fight.”

            You stand up, walking towards him. “You think I can’t fight?”

            He uncrosses his arms, revealing just a tank top instead of the usual semi-armored vest he wears, “I didn’t say that. I just don’t think you’d last long.” He shrugs his shoulders

            “What?” You take another step towards him, rage burning up every other emotion in your system. “I’ll show you exactly how long I can fucking last.” The insinuation of what you say doesn’t even register in your mind. You pull your hands up in front of your face, widening your stance. “Well?”

            Scar snarls, cracking his neck and matching your posture. “Fine.”

            You don’t even wait for him to finish his response before you rush him, a flurry of punches hitting his forearm as he blocks your attack. You can tell he’s hesitating and that makes you even more angry. Does he not think you can handle it? “Fucking fight me.” You shove at his raised arms, leaving you vulnerable. He whips a fist down before you can react, clocking you right in the stomach.

            You cough and stumble, fighting back a gag. It was a stupid mistake really, you deserved the punch. It takes you a breath to right yourself, but once you do, you attack.

            You begin to feel more alive as the fight begins in earnest. It’s a flurry of jabs and almost all come from your own hands, half of them reach their target. Scar retaliates your barrage with his own, much more steady hits. Every movement he makes is calculated, you can tell, but he gives very few signals he is going to hit until he does. Scar may have the power to back himself up, but you’re easily faster than him.

            A missed right hook to your jaw leaves him momentarily off balance. You take the chance as soon as you see it, ducking under his arm to land a fist to his kidney. It may feel like you’re hitting a brick wall with your knuckles, but from the sound he makes you can tell it hurts. His eyes narrow at you as he looks down at your crouched, attentive form beneath him.

            Actually, you’re pretty proud of yourself, holding your own against a significantly stronger, taller man, for as long as you do. You may have talked a big game—as usual—but in all honesty, you didn’t know how long you could last against him. Sure, you’ve been in fights before, but they’ve always been with the intent to kill—or at least seriously injure the other person enough to get the hell away. This fight is… well, you aren’t exactly sure what the goal of this fight is. Proving a point?

            Feeling particularly smug, you decide, as has often proved to be so dangerous, to test your luck. Hopping back, you crouch down low enough to gather enough power to rocket your leg up towards his chest. He grabs your heel in one clawed hand before it reaches its target and pulls, sending you falling to the ground and knocking the wind out of your chest. Before you can scramble back to your feet he presses a foot onto your chest, not quite hard enough to hurt, but enough to keep you pinned to the floor. “I told you, you can’t kick for shit,” he says with a triumphant smirk. He isn’t trying to hide it. This fucking asshole.

            You scowl and bring your legs up, wrapping them around the leg that isn’t placed onto your chest and pulling, hard. He careens to the ground and lands on his back, and you don’t waste a moment before your scrambling over to him to straddle his chest and keep him pinned to the ground, he tries to fight you off but as soon as you are seated, he stops. You don’t even realize what you are doing until you are about three inches from his face.

            The strangest thing is he doesn’t throw you off or spit in your face or anything else you expect him to do. He just… pants and stares. Not even a snarl.

            You begin to notice parts of your body separately, not as a whole and you suspect it’s your mind’s way of keeping you sane. The way your thighs press into the sides of his stomach, his claws digging into the edges of your back as he grips your waist, his breath ghosting across your face. It makes you feel strange. His smell is the worst of all. Not that he smells bad, far from it. It’s that he smells good? A mix of something you couldn’t describe even if you weren’t inches from his face and in the middle of a fight. He smells like sweat and fire and… flowers. Why the fuck does he smell like flowers?

            You finally move to get off and end whatever spell you two have been put under when you find yourself flipped onto your back with Scar looming over you. The studs in his ears glinting in the streams of sunlight that filter through the windows of the training room. He leans down and brings his face even closer to you. Wincing instinctually, your brain tells you to assume the worst. You’re pinned down by a stranger, of course you should assume the worst. And yet, you aren’t scared. You don’t quite know what you feel, but that knot forming in your gut isn’t fear.

            Suddenly, like a rubber band snapping, the moment ends and he’s standing again. You don’t even get a chance to stand up before he is skulking out of the gym, slamming the door behind himself.

AHHHHH I hope y'all enjoyed!!! I do so love tension mwahahaha

TAG LIST: @kiannaf @awenthealchemist

[lightup0nlight]

Our circumstances change. But Allah remains Al-Mujeeb. To illustrate, ponder on the lives of the following two Prophets:

Prophet Adam ‘alayhis-salaam lived in Jannah and had absolutely everything, in pure happiness and tranquillity. So imagine if a person, who experienced all these immense blessings, was suddenly stripped away of everything — all those extraordinary ease and blissful peace — how would he react? He could easily fall into despair and lose all hope.

Iblis himself despaired, but Prophet Adam didn’t. As soon as he slipped, Prophet Adam immediately turned to Allah subhanahu wa ta’ala:

🌺 ❛Then Adam received words from his Rabb, and his Rabb pardoned him…❜ 【Surah al-Baqarah 2:37】

And those words were:

🌺 ❛Our Rabb! We have wronged ourselves. If You forgive us not, and bestow not upon us Your Mercy, we shall certainly be of the losers.❜ 【Surah al-A’raf 7:23】

Sometimes the immense regret of our sins make us believe that our tawbah and du’a have no worth in the Sight of Allah. We start to think: Why would Allah forgive me, when I have done this, and I have done that… What good is my du’a at this point?

But Prophet Adam didn’t let his guilt make him feel despair from turning back and call upon Allah. This is the first lesson.

The second lesson is from the story of Prophet Ibrahim, who while raising the foundation of the Ka’bah with Prophet Isma’il ‘alayhumas-salam, made this du’a:

🌺 ❛Our Rabb! Send amongst them (i.e. Prophet Ibrahim’s descendants) a Messenger of their own…❜ 【Surah al-Baqarah 2:129】

Allah answered that du’a with the arrival of Rasulullah salla Allahu alayhi wa sallam, even though Prophet Ibrahim did not actually live to see it.

When we don’t see the answer to our du’a within the time span that we want, we begin to despair. And what further spurs our impatience is that we start thinking: “I have done this and that… I have worshipped all this year, and this is what I get?” This is a prideful, sinful implication.

Know that the timespan did not matter to Prophet Ibrahim, so much so that he never saw the response of his du’a in his lifetime. But just like how Allah subhanahu wa ta’ala accepted the du’a of Prophet Adam, Allah accepted the du’a of Prophet Ibrahim, and see just how much barakah came out from that du’a – the arrival of Rasulullah ﷺ.

Both Prophets endured different challenges, and so will us.

Our circumstances will always change. We ourselves change. From a moment of weakness and disobedience, to a moment of taqwa and obedience, and to the next. We change, but Allah does not. He subhanahu wa ta’ala remains Al-Mujeeb, the One Who Responds. So seek Him in all matters in life, for He will respond to our du’a in a way that He Himself knows what is best and when is best for all of us.

Your sister in Deen, Aida Msr ©

[redrascal1]

Disney, #metoo and its toxic partnership

Anyone remember the days when Disney and the Star Wars saga were about entertainment?

They made some of the best films on celluloid. The Skywalker Saga was a terrific space opera, and totally unique as it blended sci fi with epic fantasy. It featured refreshingly flawed but immensely likeable heroes and a tragic villain that is still memorable decades later.

Disney meanwhile, were responsible for some of the finest animated films ever made - the original Beauty and the Beast was Oscar nominated.

Far forward to the 21st century, and what have we got?

#metoo.

When they were created, the #metoo movement was admirable. They were there to protect vulnerable young women from reptiles like Harvey Weinstein, and I was 100% behind them.

Then I lost all my respect for them with a comment they made after Johnny Depp’s court victory against his sociopathic abusive ex wife.

‘This is a bad day for women.’

Excuse me? That was a bad day for abusers - not women. Men can, and often have been, abused by their female partners. In the news in the UK recently, there was a terrible story of a young man murdered by his partner because he was too ashamed of telling the police she was repeatedly assaulting him. I’ve read other stories, including one young man whose partner enjoyed pouring boiling water over him in the bath, and repeatedly beat him with a glass ashtray.  Depp’s victory has actually inspired other victims of female abusers to come forward. Women as well as men. 

But, back to DLF.

#metoo are having a strong influence on them. Apparently they were ‘consulted’ when making the live action The Little Mermaid. It seems Disney are now asking for #metoo’s approval when writing romantic scenes, hence the changed lyrics to Kiss the Girl - a sweet romantic song whose original lyrics #metoo apparently found ‘offensive’ to females. 

The problem with #metoo is they are fast ceasing to be a movement designed to protect women from sexual predators and abusers....and are unfortunately becoming an organisation which dislikes men.

Look no further than TROS.

When we first meet Rey in TFA, she was an immensely likeable person. And she was flawed. To a degree, yes she was overpowered...but back then, it could be explained. Her winning the mental duel with Kylo in the interrogation scene could easily have been explained by him being completely taken by surprise that she was Force sensitive. When they fought in the forest he was weakened both by the emotional blowback of killing his father and his serious wound at the hands of Chewie - and further weakened by blood loss during his brief fight with Finn. Rey’s skills as a mechanic were possibly the most credible part of her ‘talents’...she had spent fifteen years as a scavenger on Jakku and therefore had learned to know spaceships inside and out in order to survive.

Then we get TLJ, and the film which truly explores the ‘duality’ between Rey and Kylo.

Rian’s wonderful film  set up a fascinating relationship between them, but most of all, he showed them as equals. This is hammered home when the lightsabre split, torn in half by the power of two immensely strong Force sensitives. He also showed how Kylo had become weakened by killing his father and how it had caused him to lose, in that clever scene where Snoke berates him. And look what happened when Snoke, an ancient FS with decades of experience, tortured Rey - he broke her defences down in seconds. Even Kylo had to trick him to defeat him.

And then...we get TROS.

Rey was no longer ‘Rey’, she was Jedi dogma made flesh. Aloof, untouchable, god like - as emphasised by her virginal white costume based on the young, virginal Leia’s costume in ANH. No man could touch her, as apparently Rey having a boyfriend somehow ‘tainted’ her purity, her sanctity of female empowerment. Hence Ben dying, and Jannah and Zorri introduced as future love interests for Finn and Poe (don’t get me started on Rose, please, still fuming about that.)

And she was of course, to quote Wolverine, ‘the best there was at what she did.’

Difference is Wolverine was a professional soldier with decades of experience. Rey was a Jedi padawan who had had one year’s training at the hands of Leia, herself only half trained. Yet somehow she is a better pilot than Poe - who’d been flying since he was a kid - a better fighter than Finn, who’d been taught to fight from as soon as he could walk, and a Jedi not only superior to Ben but to Luke, Yoda - centuries of experience - and even Anakin, the Chosen One.

Because neither Luke, Anakin or even Yoda....could destroy Palpatine alone. Yet Rey did by simply crossing her two lightsabres. People argue that Rey actually ‘died’ then, but as fans rightly pointed out...she didn’t ‘fade into the Force’. So DLF ‘retconned’ this by pointing out she ‘wasn’t really dead’. Yeah, right.

And also...Force healing was never ‘canon’ in the SW cinematic universe and rightly so, because if it had Anakin could have saved Shmi and Padme, and never would have become Darth Vader. Adding Force healing threw the entire SWU ‘out of sync’ ....especially as the only person who could wield it without dying was a Palpatine.

Nope...Rey was so magnificent because she’s female. And this is the real tragedy of #metoo and its influence on DLF - they are no longer promoting an agenda that women are men’s equals but that we are their superiors. They even hammered this home with cutting Adam’s scenes in TROS and reducing Finn and Poe to little more than comic relief.

And I’m sorry, but that is poisonous. You don’t become what you hate or there’s little purpose in fighting hate in the first place. Not just Rey, but Daisy herself is a prime example of how #metoo has started having a negative influence on entertainment. She enthused over Rey’s relationship with Kylo during promotion for TLJ, admired reylo art post TROS - and then suddenly it’s ‘I can’t get behind the relationship’ and ‘Rey doesn’t need a boyfriend’ pre TROS.

And what happened pre TROS? #metoo happened.

I’m absolutely sure their influence is what caused Daisy to change her attitude to ‘reylo’ after discovering that they had a major influence on the making of TLM, live action. They have become a powerful movement in Hollywood. Their influence is popping up in popular entertainment everywhere, but it’s particularly strong with DLF. And I’m sorry, but I dislike hatred of men as much as I dislike hatred of women. People were meant to be equal. What #metoo is preaching is toxic, as is their relationship with DLF. It helped destroy the Skywalker Saga. I never thought I’d agree with a poster on the JCF, but one individual was spot on when he said it was ‘wrong to destroy story to promote an agenda.’

Because that is exactly what DLF’s partnership with the #metoo movement is doing - destroying everything they touch. The Little Mermaid has been a huge box office fail in the US. DLF need to seriously rethink their future projects. 

Most of all, they need to rethink how they are going to move forward with SW post TROS. And this new Rey movie. Because so far nothing they are hinting at with the latter seems to show any sign of them changing their tune.

Stick to entertaining people, Disney. Not promoting a radical movement’s agenda.

[arenarockencorewithfullcast]

Amin Amin Ya Allah.

Since i came across this quote through my timeline, I would like to share an appreciation post about my boyfriend (it is very unlike me to share anything like this online, but i feel like writing it here as my journal and for me to read it again in the future..InsyaAllah)

Soo.. today's marked our 2 years and 5 months together. Alhamdulillah.

I am soo grateful to have my own love story to share.

First thing first, let me tell you what kind of a man he is.

At first, He is not my type at all, except for this height. He's younger than me but trust me when I say, the way he talks and think are soo matured and hot hahaha rather than the guys my age and guys i met before him.

He's not the kind of guy who did all those cheesy and romantic stuffs with me. i don't get the long texts nor the sweetest words from him. He's not the perfect boyfriend yet everyday he tried to fix and adjust himself with me.

What makes me falling for him?

He's one of the realistic man I've ever met, he's honest about his own self, we shared a lot about life and future, he hates it when i gossiping or talks about other people, he knows how to handle and to calm me down when I'm sad/mad, he tend to forget things easily because there are much more important things in his head, and whenever we had a fight, he never let me sleeps without any closure and assurance.

Honestly, we both can't live without each other, well there are times we have our own space or a distraction to have our own 'me-time', but it never lessen our trust and love with each other. We don't stop each other from doing our job, or meeting friends or do our own stuffs.

I believe that this is why we stayed this long together because we understands the basic needs. I do crave for attention from him, but as time goes by, being with him teaches me a lot about life and patience, he doesn't spoiled me with sweet words/promises instead he wants me to be brave and to stand still on my own ground.

Some people might not agree with this, but for me, long distance relationship really teaches us how to stay strong in this relationship, trust, to see our willingness to take risks, reflect on ourself, be more independent and also assurance.

The lists are actually much more longer than this but i make it simple and slightly short.

One thing for sure, he brings out the best of me and I know I am way better when I'm with him. Alhamdulillah. May Allah protects our relationship till jannah. Aamin

Love, Hana.

-29.10.23-

I hope you find someone you can’t live without. I really do. And I hope you never have to know what it’s like to have to try and live without them.

— Kiera Cass, The Selection

[amatu-llah]

A thing i’ve noticed lately is how common “depression” has become, to the point that it became a topic seriously discussed in masaajid and schools, and visiting therapists became extremely common too -all of this is good to an extent-. What is concerning is how the generation before us was completely against the idea of anything called “mental illness” or “mental health” in general, causing this generation now to be extremely thirsty for these terms and therefore use them for everything.

Anyone who has been raised in a secular (especially western) system knows very well how much this mindset has been fed to us and to our children, the way they managed to make us like glass, -weak and easily scattered- and the way they made every single form of self improvement “low self esteem” or “toxic” to the point where everyone uses their life obstacles as excuses to not do their best in their affairs.

We do not disregard the effects of bad mental health at all, especially as muslims we believe in physical mental and soul ailments, however for this to be used as an excuse to abandon action… that is where we draw the line.

Never tie your action to your mood, act according to your goal, is your goal jannah? Strive for it when depressed and when scared and when sick and when happy and when grieving… always.

You are not here to be depressed, leave depression for those who do not know their lord. Those are rightfully depressed, you are not.

You have a lord you can speak to in the night.. but who will sacrifice his sleep to talk with Allah!!? This is the issue..

Allah is our lord and they have no lord.

You have Allah with you, we all have problems, from the beginning of the call to islam to now no one was free from grief, not even the dearest person to Allah- muhammad ﷺ- He tested every type of pain to be an example for us.

He tasted loss of parents,

And not just that but he knew they died upon other than islam.

He tasted loss of children.

He lost his beloved wife.

He lost his uncle and had to forgive his killer.

He was dragged and hit and mocked belittled and belied.

He was forsaken by his people.

He was betrayed.

He was lied to.

His honour -that of Aisha- was slandered and still is to this day.

His illnesses were not like those we experience, but much more severe.

…..

All of this and he is the dearest to Allah!

Read the lives of the sahaba and the righteous, you will notice a clear pattern, the closer one is to Allah and the dearer he is to Him, the more tested. And many will say “oh I am not being tested at all my life is easy” aren’t you struggling with your mental health? Isn’t that a test?

Aren’t all these blessings a test too?

Isn’t your comfort a test as well?

Worship is not easy, that is why the one who struggles in worship gets rewarded more than those who don’t, so stand up, leave your misery there where you were sat, read a few pages of the quran for Baraka, and go ahead with that which you have been procrastinating.

And do not expect it to be easy, many of the salaf would say: “ I forced myself to do worship for TWENTY years! After twenty years it became easy”

So do not expect quick results, expect to fall and slip, this is what we all do, what matters is that you stand up after you fall.

And abandon that cursed social media which has become a drug we all consume, if you really need to keep posting or really need to stay active, then do so in a browser and not the app, it usually is less practical and less addicting there.

May Allah guide you and us and safeguard you and us from the plots of the evils of mankind and jinn.

Copied

[taxfraudhousewife]

toga what would you do if you were me

all those big glorious ideas

was there ever room for a stupid crush

i keep asking men who can’t or won’t answer

i think it’s easier

can’t tell anyone if you’re dead

or ignoring me

but seriozna how could you tell so many stories and never mention

a girlfriend a boyfriend a shemale

no one

maybe im just used to everyone else im related to always becoming a thing and then breaking up etc.

i theorized you’re gay

idk maybe that’s dumb

i don’t have any reason to think that other than you respect women

i just wonder

you talked all this talk about

i should know my worth and not let anyone pressure me especially boys

especially chinese boys

idk it just made me wonder if your arms had room for all that hullabaloo

you would probably tell me to tell him

i think you’d like him

wouldn’t like his politics i don’t think

he thinks it’s good that south america got colonized cause of christianity

i wonder if that would be a deal breaker for you

how deep the socialism runs

i thought the socialism was in my bones

but he makes my brain go error 404 i don’t want reproductive rights

anyway if your religion is real you should tell me what to do

i’ll listen you know i always listen to you

if you care enough at least

that’s not supposed to be passive aggressive

i just mean i know you had a lot going on

and if you’re in jannah you definitely have a lot of shit going on and you’re still probably frazzled and processing the fact that your soul left your fucking body

i assume that would take a lot of time to wrap your head around

but if you have time

you should make a rainbow or some gay shit idk

make it snow or i wouldn’t complain if you harassed me in a dream

it’s been a while

anyway

hope youre doing good

i hope your religion is real or at least a religion in general

kinda hope you’re too busy and don’t have time for me still

even tho i have a million bajillion questions half of them are politics and half of them are just dumb but important to hear your thoughts on

i hope you’re busy going on a percy jackson quest to do a heaven intifada

i think only you could turn olympus horizontal

like i imagine you just picking up a mountain and laying it sideways

i think politically you could’ve done that

i’ve been secretly hoping that if religion is real you’re like

doing some jihadi shit

idk what

idk how hierarchical an afterlife would have to be to cause you to go on a percy jackson quest

it’s just really hard to imagine you accepting anything as fair

even if it’s unfair for one unholy mythological monster from the bible

idk the tea with your religion but even that sounds like you’d have so many qualms with it

are there actually seventy two virgins i think you’d unionize them

like is god a dictator are you gonna do a coup

you’d be passing all these woke laws about not torturing people in hell

citing all these international laws like it actually matters

it won’t matter to all the lil demons and cherubs and probably not to god

but it’ll matter to you cause it’ll matter to all the little pedophiles getting tortured

can’t imagine you letting the pedophiles get out so easily tho

that would be crazy if god was a dictator and you did a coup

would you become god then make everyone else god too and then it’s like

superpowers communism

wish i could ask you what you’d do if your religion is real and you had to do a heaven coup

what’s the strategy for that

i just know you’d have the best answer

anyway

shit

i’m gonna go to bed now

bye

[little-known0]

❓In What State will I be?❓

by Asma bint Shameem

Today I share with you, what runs through my head

This is what I so often think as I lay here on my bed

What would I be doing and in what state will I be....

That day when Malak ul-Maut will approach me?

For surely he will knock on my door, oh so suddenly

My choice of place or time, it's not going to be

On the day that I meet him, what will I do?

There's no hiding that day, no one to run to

What will be my response to him? O What will I say?

I didn't prepare for this....please come back another day?!

Please go back...go back. I'm just not ready yet!

Just a few more minutes...seconds... any time that I can get!

I would want to say goodbye but he wouldn't let me

I would want another chance but that surely couldn't be

When he will come for me, I wonder, will I be in heedlessness

Worrying little of the hereafter, in my state of carelessness

Or would I be the one who loves and lives upon the Sunnah?

Would the last words on my tongue be la illaaha illAllaah?

Would my kafan be made of silk, being sent from Heaven above?

Would it be so soft, so fragrant, wrapping my soul with love?

Or would it be so rough, so ugly, made of fire from Hell

A wrath, a torment from my Lord, full of nasty smell?

And what would happen when they bury me, six feet underground

When they lay me on my bed of dust, with no one else around

So scared and alone....the thought keeps haunting me

In what state will I be....when the angels will question me?

Will I be able to answer them....the questions they will ask

It seems so easy now....but what a lofty task!

Will I be scared to see them, will they be of horror to me?

Will I be able to bear them, when they sit in front of me?

Will I be able to give them those answers so easily?

Or will I stumble and stagger....not knowing, confusedly?

Will I stutter and stammer just like a hypocrite would?

Or would I be able to respond to them just as a Mu'min should?

Will my grave be a piece of Jannah, green and open wide...

with Mercy from my Lord so Kind, my good deeds on my side?

Will I rest in my grave ever so peacefully?

Or will my grave be a wretched place of torture for me?

I pray my grave is not a bed...of torment and agony

I hope so earnestly that my Rabb will forgive me

And when everyone will be raised with the rest of humanity

In what state will I be.....when my Lord will resurrect me?

Will I be pleased to see my Rabb? Will I be eager to greet Him?

But more importantly will HE be pleased with me, the Day I meet Him?

Will my face be dark with sin that day or will it be shining white?

Will my scale of deeds weigh heavy for me....would it be feather light?

O where will I run then ...where will I hide? This is what scares me!

In what state will I be....when the book of deeds is handed to me?

Will it be given in my left hand or I will hold it in my right?

Will I be guided firm on the Siraat; my Imaan so big, so bright?

Will I be among the wretched or will Allaah be pleased with me?

In what state will I be...when I stand in front of the Almighty?

I shudder and I tremble when I think of that Great Day

When I ask myself..."Am I ready to meet my Lord today?"

I cry as I lay here....thinking. I shed my wretched tears

Please forgive me O Allaah, how I wasted all those years

I sinned all my life Yaa Rabbi, Oh how I forsook you

Unless you forgive me O Allah, how can I meet you?!

My sins are so heavy, I can hardly bear the weight

But I'm hoping for your Mercy, don't leave me to my fate

For how long will I live? I don't know when I'll die

But like the prophet said I should expect it so close by

Let me stop this way of life; let me snap out of this trance

Let me turn my life around now that I have this perfect chance

'Cos today I am closer to my Lord than I was yesterday

Did it ever occur to me that today could be my LAST DAY?

[fallowfinality]

(Here we go.)

Mozenrath/Jasmine

Mozenrath is absolutely vexed by this. He has no idea how he got here. This relationship is primarily defined by Mozenrath's crimes against Agrabah, and the ever-present chance that the relationship will fall apart under the weight of those crimes. Mozenrath has a habit of turning passive in the hope that he won't be the one to cause any problems: but this only confuses and aggravates Jasmine further. Still, if the chemistry wasn't there, the relationship wouldn't exist: and the chemistry's undeniable.

Mozenrath/Esmeralda

This one takes two paragraphs. Assuming Mozenrath and Esmeralda meet immediately after the events of Two to Tangle, most of their dynamic rests on Mozenrath being genuinely obsessive and eager to please. He doesn't overstep boundaries, and they don't have the same bad history he shares with Jasmine, but he knows just how lucky he is. In practice, however, he still sees himself as inept with women: and assuming he's doomed tends to keep him from getting any better.

But, of course, Esmeralda's story takes place in Paris, during the year 1482. Mozenrath is in some unknown corner of southwestern Asia or northern Africa during the 9th or 10th century. They're easily 600 years apart. So you could also think of Mozenrath as a revenant, animated by the twisted sense of hope the gauntlet gave him: haunting whoever is wherever the gauntlet ends up, because his pride won't let him die and the gauntlet won't take its hope back until he finds someone else to share it with.

Mozenrath/Aladdin

Is this a platonic ship? Is it familial? Is it romantic? Should it exist at all? Ask one blog, get three opinions.

First: are Mozenrath and Aladdin brothers? We don't have any evidence in canon material for this. I personally haven't seen any sources for the rumor that they were intended to be, but then, I haven't dug very deep. The more interesting question, in my opinion, is 'should they be brothers?' And that's something I'll revisit when I talk about Jannah.

Second: Aladdin has a life. Aladdin has a life he loves, a woman he loves, lifelong friendships guaranteed. Mozenrath would be dead weight, holding Aladdin back, and Mozenrath knows this. Pride and self-loathing aren't just opposites: they very often exist at once in the same person. Mozenrath wants better for himself, and he'll commit all manner of atrocities to make himself king of the world, but what would be most despicable to him is to rely on someone as happy as Aladdin to help him get there.

Third: Mozenrath isn't in full control of himself. Nobody is, really, but Mozenrath is keenly aware of just how desperately he wants Aladdin. How long can you go thirsty before you start drinking sea-water? How long can you go hungry before you start eyeing your fellow men? Aladdin is the color of honey. His eyes are nabidh. There is absolutely no question why Aladdin lives a sweeter life than he does. If Mozenrath is not capable of love, then he'll find out when Aladdin entertains his attention, and the instinct in its place is to devour and replace him.

Mozenrath/Sadira

Here's one I haven't explored much. Sadira blogs tend to go inactive, unfortunately. To Mozenrath, Sadira is a half-hearted imitation. It's an insult to call her a sorceress: not just because she has Aladdin and his friends to fall back on, but because she has the same luck as the rest of them.

Make no mistake: even if Mozenrath never lived on the street, he was abused and neglected to the point of lunacy. He was cloistered, like Jasmine, but at least Jasmine has her mind. So to him, it would seem founded to call Sadira 'privileged.'

But she pays attention to him. She's not a career sorceress, which means he can impress her. Which means he could scare her, or protect her. Once Sadira's in his parlor, she's as good as his.

Mozenrath/Midha

Midha's a human rogue from the World of Warcraft universe. The important things to know about her: she's from a T for Teen game, she's potentially useful, and she'll listen to anything he rambles on about.

This is one of his 'flings,' in the event it becomes more than a business relationship. What Mozenrath doesn't realize about her is that one can be calculating without explaining their plans.

And kind as she may be, Midha is an assassin. She is, by necessity and natural talent, plotting against almost everyone. He's just lucky she hasn't gotten around to acting on her plan for him.

Mozenrath/Khesonix

Here's the most recent fling. Mozenrath takes a deal that's more than fair: he can exhaust as many lives as he likes, so long as he replenishes the number in kind.

The flamewakers, the creatures he summoned, are warriors. Bred and power-fed to burn away competition as soon as they can slither. They don't do subtlety. They're not even particularly attracted to him.

And this is, finally, a dynamic Mozenrath understands. He wants love, but being useful will do. He wants human companionship, but the brutal, burning reality is that this is probably what he deserves. These are the arms he can rely on to hold him: especially if they're holding him down.

Mozenrath/Jannah

We don't choose our family, and this is how we know.

Notice how almost all Mozenrath's relationships are romantic? Notice how desire is a pre-requisite? He knows why Jasmine, or Sadira, or Khesonix might want him. But he can't understand Jannah.

Wouldn't a baby ruin your life, he wonders? Weren't you, deep down, relieved when I was taken? Or are you so prideful? Motherhood is pride. Family is pride. We're only here to get what we want, mother, and what is it you want?

It would be easier, he thinks, if she didn't recognize him. She could ride right by. And now that he's burdened with the knowledge that they're family: his only reward is that he knows one way she doesn't want him.

Mozenrath/Neltharion/Vigos

He'd expected to die, and then that was taken from him too.

What should he feel, when the timeline of his life is unceremoniously cut and joined with what feels like a parody? He can get everything he wants-- but he can't possibly have so much. He lives in a world he shouldn't have come to be in. A world this perfect would never produce Mozenrath.

And forgiveness from Neltharion and Vigos is far too easy. How can they forgive him? He didn't know they existed, until now. Is it a gift to live?

Is he their project? Is he just the entertainment? He doesn't know. All he knows is that it could be worse.

Mozenrath/Mozenrath

If you met yourself, wouldn't you give them everything they wanted?

He has big dreams for his little brother. Of course, they're more like twins, but more importantly... they could be gods. Alone, they're so vulnerable, the little one especially, but together they have to be unstoppable.

They have to be. And they have to be together. This is his best chance to love himself.

Your favourite ship with Mozenrath?

I'm sorry if this is already on your page somewhere, I'm just distracted

(I think I have gotten a question like this, actually, but I'm happy to answer again since I'm pretty sure the last time Moze answered IC.

First, I'll list out some of the romantic entanglements Mozenrath has had. I'll give you all a chance to let me know if I've missed anything in any category.

Mozenrath/Jasmine

Mozenrath/Esmeralda

Mozenrath/Aladdin

Mozenrath/Sadira

Mozenrath/Midha

Mozenrath/Khesonix

Now, the platonic/familial ships:

Mozenrath/Jannah

Mozenrath/Neltharion/Vigos

And now the uncategorizable:

Mozenrath/Mozenrath.

In the next reblog, I'll give a summary of all of these. Stay posted :D)

[btwxsixesandsevens]

WLW Star Wars Fan Fic Masterlist

You want to read my queer Black women in Star Wars fanfic?

Of course you do.

Welcome to My Star Wars Adventures

My fic is character driven, full of snarky dialog, adventure, romance, and sex. It is adult and Black AF. Like me.

These are mostly rarepairs and OCs.

I connect with characters that no one, least of whom most SW writers, seem to have any love for. That's okay. These can be little favorites.

Ahsoka Tano x Bo-Katan Kryze

From The Mandalorian/Clone Wars

Interrupted -- Ahsoka enjoyed the familiar flutter of nerves in her stomach. The certainty that time and distance didn’t dull the connection she had with Bo-Katan, was one of the few constants in her galaxy.

Hera Syndulla x Ahsoka Tano

From Ahsoka, season 1

A Way to Say Good-Bye -- Hera was used to saying goodbye. In her life, every entrance came with a matched exit. Still, standing on the hard cliff over the blue-black water looking for Ahsoka *hurt*. She would never get used to it.

Fennec Shand x Garsa Fwip

Golden -- Fennec Shand & Garsa Fwip is my current OTP. Butch/Femme perfection. Here's a taste of their evenings.

Fennec love giving Garsa exactly what she asks for. Sometimes what she asks for is a little ice, some rope, and pure bliss.

Sanctuary, a Taste in the Mouth -- After the destruction of Sanctuary, Fennec Shand pulls Garsa Fwip from the wreckage. As their relationship deepens, there's a new business in Mos Espa -- one the two of them are determined to shut down.

The Armorer/Bo-Katan Kryze

Always for Mandalore -- The Armorer and Bo-Katan Kryze sit down to sign a contact. Can they come to an agreement for the benefit of all New Mandalore?

Let the Good Things Come Easily -- Bo-Katan, Mand'alor, returns from the constant war to see her riduur for the first time in months. It goes about like you expect.

Must It Always Be A War -- Bo-Katan Kryze never brought women to her private bedroom. First time for everything, she does bring her riduur of a year to her bed.

Jannah x Rose Tico

From Star Wars Sequel Trilogy

Opals for Rose - When Former First Order Trooper Jannah joined the Resistance, now the Republic, she knew she was joining a family. She didn’t know she’d meet the love of her life.

Returning home from a delivery run, Jannah finally puts the words to her feelings.

Drash x Jo

From The Book of Boba Fett

On the Dome - Boba Fett’s victory in Mos Espa must be celebrated. For Drash of the Mod Gang and Jo of Freetown, it is a perfect night to see if a few shared furtive glances actually amount to anything more than a pile of bantha poodoo.

The Armorer x OC

From The Mandalorian

Gloves Off - For the Star Wars Sapphic Week prompt: Hand Holding. The Armorer has a special someone. Not who you think, however.

Original Characters

From ...

How to Shed Orat in Four Phases - Star Wars AU, about two Rebellion members. It’s part a Zabrak cultural study, part ongoing love story. Happy ending. Always.

As the Water Wills -- Written for the Star Wars Rare Pair Exchange. Prompt: Original Downed Rebel Pilot / Original Farmer Who's Hiding them from the Authorities

[faebriel]

Please drop a list of good canon-setting fics. I need them like I need air /not forced

ok anon this is a little vague re: characters or time period or anything so i have just pulled together a couple things from my bookmarks etc, list under the cut!!

best laid plans by zannolin (wilbur, burger arc era)

say sorry by aenqa (tommy and dream, exile)

afterlife by aenqa (wilbur, limbo)

is it really a final showdown if you've done it a hundred times? by spiromachia (tommy, disc finale)

the skeleton living inside your head (rattling and gasping, coming up for breath) by patrichor (wilbur, button room)

dissonance by shrugofgod (tubbo, like...post-tommy-resurrection healing period)

memories of a home now lost by cheeto_the_cat (niki, s3 with flashbacks to l'manberg)

[this action will have consequences] by enderwhoa (techno but in a p tubbo-centric way, post revengers)

but i'll figure out a way to get us out of here by itstheadomania (tommy and wilbur, post-breakout)

get a load of this monster, he doesn't know how to communicate by cacowhistle (wilbur and tommy, post-breakout)

so much déjà vu by jannah (tubbo and wilbur, burger arc era)

flight risk by angelsdemonsducks (wilbur, post-resurrection)

built a home, watched it sink by fensandmarshes (rainduo + schlatt n quackity + beeduo, diff eras of l'manberg)

when the wounds are healed by spice_ghouls (tubbo and techno, nlm)

we all think you're a grand girl by cryptofhoney (niki and others, manberg era)

hell is empty by zannolin (wilbur and ghostbur, nov 16 to resurrection)

even children get older by angelsdemonsducks (tommy and wilbur, post resurrection)

where to find a silver lining (as the mercury keeps rising) by angelsdemonsducks (wilbur, post resurrection also egg takeover)

also these are technically aus but. au where someone other than phil was in the button room bc i love them

sunlight in the pit by fensandmarshes (wilbur and niki)

how easily passion twists by raindropsinautumn (wilbur and tommy)

what happens when the river dies by lambfromfield (wilbur and niki)

technically the skeleton living inside your head would also count here i'm realising lol (wilbur and EVERYONE /aff)

also going to shoutout sealskin and leave your scarf in my life bc they're like...aus (selkie au and soulmate au respectively) but in the canon setting so

[lightup0nlight]

We know that the severity of oppression faced by our ummah doesn't stop in Ramadan. So please keep them constantly in our supplications. Never belittle nor dismiss the power of a heartfelt du'a. May Allah accept our supplications, our boycotts, and other efforts in bringing this tyranny to light, and to an end.

As a person who easily gets distressed and physically unwell from reading devastating news, I seek comfort in the rahmah of Allah. I find comfort that the fallen children are in the care of khalilullah, Prophet Ibrahim alayhis-salaam. I find comfort in the existence of the hereafter, of Jannah, and in the unwavering belief of how Allah never wastes the imaan of a believer.

🌺 ❛And they (the people of Jannah) will say: Alhamdulillah, Who has fulfilled His Promise to us, and has made us inherit [this] land. We can dwell in Jannah wherever we will; how excellent a reward for the [pious] workers!❜ 【Surah Az-Zumar 39: 74】

🌺 ❛And admit them to Jannah, which He has made known to them (i.e. they will know their places in Jannah better than they used to know their homes in the world).❜ 【Surah Muhammad 47: 6】

This dunya is filled with greed, cruelty, injustice, and oppression.

But Allah promises the believers: Your homes, your gardens, your properties — all of them are ready and have been prepared for you in Jannah. And you will recognize your dwellings in Jannah as if you’ve dwelt there from the time they were first created.

May the oppressed, the innocents, and the fallen be given an eternal abode in Jannah, together with their loved ones. May Allah grant the believers the highest level of Jannah without reckoning, where we can dwell wherever we wish in peace, tranquillity, and harmony for all eternity.

Your sister in Deen, Aida Msr ©

[io-lu-art]

TROS fix-it: Page 16

“[...] “What is it?” Jannah asked, her viewpoint being limited for she was seated in the back of the cockpit.

“It’s Kylo Ren. This is a trap. I should have known it.” How could he be so foolish? He should have known that Kylo Ren wasn’t so easily to be killed. He should have known that he would take any opportunity to - no. There was no time to overthink this. Somehow, they had to get Rey aboard the ship, no matter what.

Lando on the other hand was as relaxed as he has never been. “Nah, look at him, he can barely walk. It must have been at least a battle down there as it was up here,” he almost laughed.

“I don’t care,” Finn readied his blaster. Anger was rising inside of him. “He won’t get away this time. Steady the Falcon,” he commanded as he exited the cockpit.

Jannah stood up from her seat to see it for herself. The Falcon was now hovering above the ground. They were unable to land because the ground was unstable and gone for the most part, but they were near enough to clearly see and identify the two Finn was talking about. Indeed, it was Kylo Ren, supreme leader of the First Order, the one Jannah had seen facing Rey on Kef Bir. But what she saw now weren’t the two enemies that wanted each other dead. What she saw were two hurt people caring for each other, the one struggling to stand by himself, the other one struggling to keep him from falling over his own feet. Jannah didn’t know what had happened down here, but this clearly wasn’t a trap. That she could tell.

“I’m gonna make sure Finn doesn’t kill him,” she then announced and hurried to reach the boarding ramp in time. [...]”

See the whole fanfiction here.

[cathrynemoon]

Ship ask game! 

@btwxsixesandsevens​ asked: Leia Organa/Amilyn Holdo and Rey/Finn

Leia/Amilyn

This scene is the heart of why I ship them. When I first saw it, I thought this was a sweet moment between friends. (And a rare instance of a scene in Star Wars movies passing the Bechdel Test.) We may only have known Holdo for one movie, but we learn from the book Leia, Princess of Alderaan that Leia has known Amilyn since they were teens. This isn’t a goodbye between a general and a vice admiral, it’s a heartbreaking farewell between two lifelong friends. 

According to Rian Johnson, Carrie Fisher helped rewrite this scene a little bit.

“I rewrote that scene with those two actors,” Johnson told the L.A. Times. “Laura really wanted to find a way to pay tribute to Carrie and what Leia meant to her growing up, and that's where that moment came from. And the [response to Holdo attempting to say “May the force be with you”], ‘I’ve said it enough, you go ahead’ — that was Carrie's line.”

Maybe this came from the writers, maybe Carrie, maybe Laura, but my favourite lines are: “So much loss. I can’t take any more.” “Sure you can. You taught me how.” I’m just so moved by the idea that Leia’s strength in the face of so much loss inspired Amilyn to be strong, and in this moment Holdo in a way returned that strength back to Leia. It’s just beautiful.

I don’t know what counts as an unpopular opinion for them. But this might be unpopular: I envision them getting together after the war, in an AU where most things stay the same (Han, Luke and Ben die), but Holdo and Leia live. Like my headcanon for Jannah and Rose, I also see Holdo and Leia retiring somewhere quiet when peace is achieved, maybe occasionally coming out of retirement to put out small fires here and there. But mostly they’ll slip into a simple, quiet love built on lifelong friendship, mutual support, mutual understanding and grow old together. 💕  

Rey/Finn

I very much ship them, but my feelings are complicated!

Personally, I thought it a bit unrealistic how fast they bonded and latched on to each other in TFA. (This might be an unpopular opinion?) But I still found those moments sweet and I think they played out well in such a stuffed story, all things considered. I think TFA set them up for a romance pretty clearly. But I also feel like their almost instant imprinting on each other hurt their potential romance a little, because people can easily brush off that instant bond as a kind of immaturity that they’ll grow out of.

What I like about them: I think Finn and Rey’s relationship, whether romantic, platonic or something else, has the potential to be very deep and grounding. They’re both stubbornly protective of each other, but something beautiful can grow out of that with some time and trust. They have some great moments in each movie. Finn saying “you looked at me like no one ever had” in TFA, their reunion in TLJ and Finn sensing Rey’s death in TROS are some of my favourites. In better hands, they could have had an amazing story. But...

Unpopular opinion: The Finn/Rey relationship was doomed from the start, because I think Finn was doomed from the start. An ex-stormtrooper joining the Resistance to fight the First Order he ran away from is, on paper, an amazing concept. It’s just difficult to fit that into the “Skywalker Saga” because the story was always going to end up being about the Skywalkers and the Force and such. 

Another unpopular opinion: I think separating Finn and Rey in TLJ was the right move. They needed to grow independently of each other. I feel that if they were allowed to be a buddy team in TLJ, Finn’s growth would be attached to or secondary to Rey’s. In TLJ he had moments where he could shine that were just his. Like the fight with Phasma. Contrast that with his lightsaber moment at the end of TFA, which, while very cool, was ultimately a fakeout meant to serve Rey’s story.

Post-TROS, I think their relationship can go in any direction. I feel like they both need to grow some more, explore their relationship with the Force some more and reach some kind of stability in life before either of them will take the first step towards a potential romance. I too believe in aroace Rey and in Stormpilot supremacy, so I see Finn and Rey trying at romance for a bit before deciding they’re better together as best friends. And they’re stronger for it!