#simply divine thomas

[izasbjdphoto]

I wanted to see these two side by side, because Kassandra was Val 1.0, and it’s fun to compare her to Val 3.0

It was a very difficult decision to reshell Val back in 2020, but I’m glad I did. I didn’t want to sell the original head though, so I got a new body for it and made it into a girl. It’s kind of funny that both heads are on DFA bodies!

Kassandra’s body was advertised as 68cm with head, but she’s closer to 66cm in truth. Val on the other hand was supposed to be 70cm but is actually 72cm. Funny how that works!

The what is what:

Sculpts: Dollzone Chen on a DFA 68cm girl body (Kassandra) & Simply Divine Thomas on a DFA 70cm Boy body (Val)

Eyes: 16mm brown glass eyes from ACBJD (Kassandra) & 14mm Small Iris SoulinaBox eyes (Val)

Wigs: CanCan J-Series in Ivory in 8-9 (Kassandra) & Monique Adorabel in Moon Black in 8-9 (Val)

Faceups: me over at @izasfaceups

[kinokoshoujoart]

CORRECT TAGS‼️‼️‼️‼️ @rn0na-lizard you are so so so correct….. my favorite ‘Normal Girl’ in hmds…….i almost never see anyone talk about these aspects of her let alone also love her for them as they should.

i feel like Leona/ DS lumina gets mischaracterized super often which is understandable bc out of all the DS candidates leona is the least like her ancestor (who i also love, for different reasons).

in AWL lumina was the only kid in the valley for a very long time, but many of the DS residents have lived in the valley their whole lives. while lumina had accepted her role as a proper young heiress by chapter 3 of AWL— and when DS begins Leona already at this point of her life— lumina still had a lingering sense of uncertainty and angst and loneliness and doubt, and unresolved worries about her parents. absolutely none of this is present with leona

in this world leona starts with Lumina’s 22 year old appearance, she’s just rich as hell and living her best life (as she deserves), she’s unabashedly shallow, puts herself first always, speaks so politely and affably yet she can be so casually cruel in the most genuine cute way and out of touch with reality and and i fucking love her and i’d die for her. my beloved girlboss girlkeep girlypop

more iconic Leona Moments

when muu/muffy asks for beauty advice leona’s recommendation is “this brand of mail order beauty cream is simply divine! and it was quite inexpensive too, just 100,000 G 🥰” everyone else looks uncomfortable and muu is like “you’re as frivolous as always….”

aside from the 3 who take literally half your money (Witch💖, moi, and thomas) leona and panama (romana) take the most money from you if they carry you home when you faint. just a couple of girl bosses holding on to their girlpire (btw shout out to sebastian, the only resident in the entire valley who carries you home for free)

neither panama nor leona attend the harvest festival, they send sebastian there by himself to test the food first lmao (if you poison it like the witch they’re harboring on their property requires you to do, sebastian is just like “i can’t serve this to Mistress Panama…”)

once again sebastian attacks mukumuku for her sake, this time not to make her a paintbrush but she told him to get her the best slippers and this was apparently the easiest way. sebastian gets fucking mauled btw

leona has hands down the best romance route in hmds. all her scenes are incredible but god the slow burn friends to lovers with your DVD player….

in her purple heart event she shows up at your house because she heard you have a DVD player, asks you to show her how it works, and then just leaves after she’s done playing with it

in her yellow heart event she has sebastian fetch van so she can buy a DVD player for herself but van’s like “i’m so sorry …. Pete… bought the last one….”

leona is so unable to stomach the idea of other people having things she doesn’t that she starts to cry and the only way to placate her is to tell her she can go to your house anytime she wants just so she can use your DVD player. that’s not a setup to a budding romance that’s her final heart event

it’s the most incredible romance arc in the world like girl you have infinite money you can just. buy a DVD player somewhere else?? “i want to watch DVDs at my house just like you!” leona you have three entire bedrooms

“rich girl love interest who has everything except love, win her heart by having genuine conversation with her”: done to death, tired, i don’t have time for that

“rich girl love interest who has everything except a fucking DVD player, win her heart by giving her expensive stuff and ‘relax tea’ and access to your DVD player”: audacious, intriguing, never been done before, innovative

if you deny her god-given right to access your DVD player she is like “Is that so……………Just let me be alone for a little bit.” incredible tragedy i understand. take as much time as you need to grieve darling

oh but her first heart event asks you to pick a side in an argument she’s having with panama and the correct answer is to say “sebastian is the one who’s wrong” (sebastian has said nothing wrong this whole time and yet both of them have just been yelling at him to shut up)

and her blue heart event is “help me find this heirloom necklace… boohoo…” and when you find it she’s like “perfect! now grandma won’t get mad at me. hmm, you seem pretty dependable…♡” augh she’s way too good at this…….!!! i’ll do anything for you!

when you propose she says “of course, i always dreamed of having a romance and a wedding♡” and says nothing abt how she feels about you <3

also if you marry her, once a week she goes to hang out at her ex love interest’s place for 6 hours straight and comes home saying “whew… i had so much fun that i must have lost track of time… i’ll hurry on home”

if you marry another girl she starts flirting with you like “I’m so envious of your wife, having such a fine husband… Pete.” (or whatever your name is)

i’ve become obsessed with her and romeo’s horrible trainwreck soap opera marriage since replaying cute in jp… it’s SO… i have so much to say about them that it should be its own post but i’ll just give the cliffnotes

shotgun wedding vibes. romeo is surprised by his own wedding. they’re childhood friends but he himself has never considered marrying her. her words to him at their wedding are “Make me happy♡” (command)

she understandably can’t stand his terrible table manners or his clothes or anything about him (except that she wants to watch him surf and have his child. but he instead walks in circles all day. coward) and he’s both really good at accidentally stepping on landmines and just ever so slightly majorly terrified of her after marriage (“but surely her angry outbursts are just her way of showing love hahahahaha” you’re going to die. she’s going to kill you). the only positive things they say about their marriage are extremely shallow. they can’t communicate with each other because romeo always says the Dumbest Shit obliviously and leona always responds by cutting him out of her life forever!!!!!! (for 5 seconds) while he has no idea what happened

they are both so melodramatic and they both just do nothing except make each other worse and run away from each other and push each other away but they can’t escape each other. neither of them ever has to grow or change if they marry each other because an elderly overworked man is sustaining both of their existences and neither of them can take care of themselves and i love them your honor

also romeo’s first crush as a kid was apparently her mom, and if leona falls for YOU she flirts by mentioning that sebastian says you look like the spitting image of her dead father. dear fucking god

they’re the epitome of “You're both just enabling each other's mental illnesses. You're both perfect for each other. Never change. Just never involve anybody else in what you've got going on.”

romeo really does feel like her stupid lackey. like the karen to her regina. they even had this dynamic in the games they played as kids… she was the Harvest Goddess and he was Servant A/Minion A (they might still be playing this game as adults…he calls her lady/mistress sometimes after marriage…)

btw leona’s best friend (wife) marivia is also just as… there’s an event where they just gossip about all the mineral town ppl and marivia says ann would win a gluttony contest and they both giggle

there’s also an event where marivia casually walks into Witch’s hut and just interviews her so she can write her into a novel. witch is left completely drained by this exchange. leona and marivia both are so chill about the horrible cruel villainess living in leona’s shed who wants the town poisoned and rewards you for killing animals and hurting yourself and is putting curses on everyone (and they’re right. she’s never done anything wrong in her life)

[eris-eveningstar]

Chapter 17 fic excerpt

I'm literally too impatient. The day after posting day is my writing break damn it, but NOOOO I just have to feel so motivated to write the ball that I accidentally end up writing 2k. 'Accidentally.'

Ok so you guys are gonna get super lucky today. I'm being so generous with you all. Here is an excerpt!

─── • ⋄ ⋅⚡️⋅ ⋄ • ───

Tom's heart froze in his chest.

His darling omega was a vision.

He'd seen him from behind, and he did a double take. His hair was a bit longer, curled and styled, yet it was the same shade as a raven's wing, and no amount of pomade could ever take away the wildness of those locks. He recognized him immediately. After all, how could he not recognize the slope of curves he'd touched and held so many times? The shade of that sun-kissed skin? Or the figure he'd felt against his so often?

And then, Harry turned, and Tom's breath was stolen away.

Good lord, he thought. He'd never known true beauty before today. The concept of it simply untrue without the vision of Harry's beauty to cement it.

If he thought Harry was alluring during their dalliance in Diagon Alley—a time he often recalled fondly, and perhaps a little too closely with a pensieve and his hand near a very pleasurable place—then, well, he was a fool.

This outshined it all.

Harry grinned brilliantly, and Tom's eyes narrowed in on his mouth. The colour of his lips was deep red, a shade akin to blood, and Tom couldn't help but wonder what sounds his dearest would make if he leaned down now and stole those tempting lips, plundering the caverns of Harry's mouth with his tongue and pulling him closer by his waist.

But it wasn't simply his mouth. Tom basked in the loveliness of his omega's nymph-like form, and dark eyes narrowed in on his makeup. It accentuated his allure and brought out the emerald gleam of his eyes, and without his glasses, he looked simply, well, enchanting.

And the glitter, oh Merlin. The glitter. What Tom wouldn't do to figure out how far it went.

Golden flecks glittered against Harry's skin like a divine temptation—on his cheeks, eyes, neck, and collarbones. Tom wished to lave his tongue against the sinful stretch of Harry's shimmering, petite collarbones and make his lover shiver and twist.

And then he noticed his dear Harry's neck. Truly, he was a gift presented before him. A black ribbon was tied in a bow on Harry's neck, and Tom wanted to undo it slowly, teasingly, while Harry turned into goo in his hands. Or perhaps he would grab it and watch as Harry's head was forced back as Tom took his pleasure?

Instead, he settled for this.

He held out his hand, palm first as was tradition, and in a half-bow, he greeted his dearest in a way far more formal than their relationship dictated. Tom smirked, the masses would surely eat this up. The Chosen One and Lord Slytherin, seen getting along? Well, Tom wasn't unaware of what that would do for his currently stellar image, but it didn't matter as much as finally seeing his omega in the flesh.

"Greeting, Heir Potter-Black. It is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance. I am Lord Thomas Slytherin."

Softly, Harry's hand curled against his, and Tom gave a secretive wink. Tradition dictated that he would kiss the omega on the back of the hand, but instead.... Tom turned Harry's hand around, and, slowly, his plush lips landed sinfully on the flesh of Harry's wrist.

[m1d-45]

constellations

summary: some words on the characters’ thoughts on their constellations, or lack thereof. here are my thoughts on how constellations work in sagau btw

word count: ~2k

-> warnings: spoilers for character lore, names/titles of places and people. based on my team, my characters, and my constellations.

-> gn reader (you/yours) ft. barbara, thoma, heizou, collei, kujou sara, sucrose, candace, n ganyu, in that order

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24

< masterlist > || bonus >

barbara takes great pride in her job as deaconess, a feeling that only grows as more of her stars are lit up. the small blue lights are typically hidden, tucked behind her vision and inlaid within her holy book, but she knows they’re there.

she knows, in some quiet part of her subconscious, that she wasn't meant to be wished upon. she knows that the stars cast were meant for another, that they’d brushed by their intended destination and landed in her palms instead, but she doesn't mind. what matters is that her stars glow brightly, lighting up the wings of her vision's frame, six blue stars denoting the highest level of trust from her god.

they weren’t meant for her, but yet they didn’t go to another. she wasn’t intended to be blessed, and yet she was still chosen as a recipient of heaven.

to her, they are a symbol of her devotion nonetheless. to her, little things are truly accidents; maybe her intuition is in fact her insecurity, or maybe even gods miss their mark. maybe it’s neither. maybe it’s both. who is she to decide the intentions of the divine?

whether made for her or not, at the end of the day she was still chosen. and for barbara, this is enough.

thoma wears his one star with immense pride, a smile crossing his face every morning when he sees it glitter in the dark of his room. the sun hasn’t even risen, but he doesn’t need the light to brush his fingers over the extra glow to his vision.

yes, there are others with more, but he never expected to be a vessel at all, let alone to be gifted another star. he sees the unlit lines upon his lord and lady’s vision and wonders why he was chosen instead of them, he sees the slight envy whenever they ask where his travels have taken him.

he sees, and he understands. he’s a housekeeper, not the head of the yashiro commission. he’s thoma, not the shirasagi himegimi. but still, he didn’t make the choice, so it was useless to feel apologetic for it. it wasn’t his fault, and neither was it theirs.

he clipped his vision onto the knot at his side, continuing to get ready for the day. perhaps he’d go into the city today, get some of the shopping done. as housekeeper, this wasn’t technically part of his duties—there were other servants able to do so at the estate, but none were quite as popular as he was.

and if some of his notoriety was from the extra glimmer at his hip, thoma kindly pretended not to notice.

heizou treasures each lit star within his constellation, sometimes tracing over the barely-there outlines of them when he’s thinking. everybody praises his intuition—himself included, on occasion—but it’s comforting to know that somebody has genuine, heartfelt faith in him sometimes. to know that even when he slips up or acts too rashly, there’s a net for him to land in.

he knows that he’s the star detective, the brilliant doushin of the tenryou commission, but even he doubts his own abilities on occasion. yet, every time he tries to hint at asking for help, hes met with the same thing every time.

“but you’re detective shikanoin! surely you’ve got it handled.”

it’s… tiring, to say the least.

but at the end of his shift, when he can lock his door behind him and allow the mask of confidence to fall, he always pauses when taking apart his uniform to stare at his vision.

the brilliant detective, doushin shikanoin, names and titles hes remembered and lost… but to you he’s simply heizou. heizou, who slips from the station during lunch to eat at a food cart instead, heizou who’s overconfident and yet still unsure.

your heizou, the one you granted six teal stars. heizou, who can lean on you and know he won’t fall.

collei has a nervous habit of playing with the cloth leading off her vision, twisting and threading it around her fingers until the glass of her vision is pressed tightly to her palm. her thumb outlines the glittering stars of her constellation, having long since memorized the lines between them.

she doesn’t know what she did to deserve them, not when tighnari didn’t have any extra stars and cyno’s constellation wasn’t lit up at all. she wasn’t particularly smart or helpful, typically delegated to tighnari’s assistant due to her eleazar. even after, when the traveller came and went, when she’d been able to take on more tasks… one star she could understand, but six?

her attention is drawn by another forest ranger, waving her over with an important looking paper in hand, and she quickly slips her fingers from the cloth, letting them hang at her side.

collei doesn’t know what she did to deserve so many stars. she doesn’t know why she was chosen over tighnari, or even the other watchers with visions.

but as she gives her advice to the ranger, as his eyes light with understanding and she’s thanked with a smile…

maybe it didn’t matter what she did to get them, as long as she used them for something good.

kujou sara knows she shouldn’t be resentful. it’s not her place to decide what a god should and shouldn’t do, it’s not her choice where the stars of heaven do and don’t fall.

but seeing the six glittering stars on heizou’s vision, shining in the sun as he tucks away his baton with a flourish… had she done something wrong, to not have so many? was she lesser?

her hand lifts to the vision tied tightly to her hip, to the one star she knows is lit up on it without even having to look. she should be grateful for it, she knew she should, she had no right to complain when the raiden shogun herself had yet to have a star cross her skies. she should be thankful, yet…

sara watches heizou walk into the police station with his regular flair, dropping off yet another solved case, and her eyes sink back down to her paperwork.

she shouldn’t let this distract her. worrying about the mechanics of the divine would only lead to headaches and prayers unanswered. she has responsibilities, ones she can’t let down, and trivial things such as jealousy won’t do anything but distract her.

sara picks up her pen once more.

maybe, if she works hard enough, she'll earn another star.

sucrose wasn’t sure why she had an extra star, not when albedo didn’t have any and he was firmly her senior. she wasn’t as dedicated to the art of alchemy as he was, and applied herself to biochemistry instead of his research in ley lines. he was older, more knowledgeable, had far more patience with timaeus than any other knight could; yet she was the one with a bright blue star.

still, speculation would get her nowhere. she had if, and she knew she had to work hard to prove herself worthy of it. even though she was still relatively young and inexperienced compared to some of her colleagues, she was determined to make her mark on the world of alchemy.

even if it meant she didn’t understand when albedo complained about unstable flows beneath the earth. even if it meant working entirely at nighttime for weeks on end to see if her lamp grass alterations paid off.

on one of these late nights, she pulled her vision from its clasp, flipping it over to admire the gleam of her extra star. maybe it was just a fluke, in the end, a star twisting for another but missing. or maybe she had done something, maybe some experiment of hers warranted reward in a way she didn’t understand.

either way, she was determined to make the most of it.

candace was perfectly content without her constellation lit up.

she’d heard, through one way or another, of tighnari’s newfound abilities. how his arrows were sharper than any blade, how his affinity for dendro had grown, the withering zones that once took a whole fleet now only required him and collei, fungi falling easily when faced with their twin bows.

but life in aaru village was simple, the days spent tending to the plants and people in the village, and the nights watching for dangers. she didn’t need to go on epic journeys or to slay devils, she just needed to protect her small oasis.

she didn’t…

but she couldn’t deny the exhilaration that coursed through her during her trial, the glimpse of divine power driving her polearm with more strength than she’d ever witnessed. hydro swarmed around her, more than she could need at her fingertips, leaving her with more questions than answers once she was let back down into her village.

candace didn’t need that sort of power. she and the rest of the village had been and would be fine without a blessing from the stars. they’d managed before, and they would be again, and she told herself that while that would help, it wasn’t a requirement, and she shouldn’t spend her time wishing for something that may never come.

…but on particularly clear nights, when the moon sang bright and she was out on watch, who could blame her if she was caught in a memory?

ganyu tells herself she is fine without being chosen. that the blank lines on her vision don’t mean anything, that they don’t say anything about her or her work ethic.

they don’t, not really. keqing’s vision, as tight to her neck as it is, hides a bare back. if she, the yuheng herself, can have no glow to her constellation, then surely it doesn’t mean anything that ganyu doesn’t either? yes, the tianquan was gifted an extra star atop her shimmering constellation, but that didn’t mean anything about her, did it?

maybe it was selfish to think like this, to judge herself against a metric assigned to another. but no matter how hard she tried to drive out this line of thinking, it persisted.

was it because she was half-qilin? no, yanfei was chosen, and even occasionally utilized as a vessel. was it because of her form of worship? no, because that harbinger had inexplicably been gifted immense strength—though thankfully his bloodlust was kept in check by the frequency with which he was used as a vessel.

that detail had made her pause, when she found out. did her god pick people who were led astray or had fallen from favor, as a way to correct? did that mean she was doing something right, then, by not being chosen?

but the crux fleet has been more prosperous than ever, but the tianquan’s notoriety has only grown after the receival of an extra star. but wanmin restaurant was still flourishing, but yaoyao, as young as she is, was still praised and blessed.

whatever divine criteria there is, ganyu has failed to meet it. yet, despite the conflicting emotions in her chest, she still tells herself she’s fine without recognition from the stars.

(if she had the chance to ask her god one question, what would it be?)

[casinodove]

✧ COULD BUY ANYTHING . sagau headcanons

✧ SUMMARYzz.. 1111

Sagau except the reader has yet to descend, and is filthy rich. They already have the entire world at their fingertips, their family has wealth unspeakable and an insane amount of connections. To put it simply, reader is a stereotypical filthy rich person.

✧ PAIRINGzz.. 2222

Sagau x GN!reader

✧ WARNINGzz.. 3333

Religious themes , cult au , privacy deprivation , mentions of blood n human + animal sacrifices , helplessness , some characters get desperate .

✧ SIDE NOTESzz.. 4444

Idk why I got the motivation to write but hey, not complaining

THE acolytes found you rather interesting actually, beyond the fact that you were obviously their creator, they still happened to find the way you seemingly could buy about everything interesting.

Your mora seemed to never run out, almost as if you had an infinite amount of it. And, your device never lagged somehow.

You were always on new devices, they were sure. Each and every able to run the game faster than the last. And, well, once they got access to your camera and were able to see even a glimpse of you, they understood why.

They were barely able to see half of your room, it was well lit and actually,, seemed rather luxurious. Now, the acolytes weren't stupid. Surely, they now knew that you weren't anywhere near poor, instead they assumed your wealth was above average, if not, insanely high.

Panics, since your wealth is beyond average, that means your used to luxuries. Whatever will they do if you dislike their offerings or deem them as too cheap for your liking once you descend?? Oh, this is a disaster!

Xiao , Zhongli , Thoma , Traveler , Barbara , Kokomi , Gorou ++ any non filthy rich character basically

Someone with taste, at last! A challenge is always nice, but don't you worry for they will sacrifice treasures from all over teyvat for you. Handmade trinkets you can't ever find anywhere outside of teyvat, pretty hidden gems that sparkle and shine brighter than the sun itself.

Kamisato siblings , Pantalone , Ningguang , Beidou , Childe .

Well,,,, they'll try their best! Surely, they will find something that you'll like, no? It can't be that hard..or so they hope.

Wanderer , Traveler , Kazuha , Albedo , Zhongli , Thoma , Venti , Gorou , Kokomi

Please, their taste is beyond lavish. They'll find you the best of the best, price tags are mere numbers to them. Doesn't matter how many millions of mora they'll have to spend on merely a coat, a necklace or a pair of silk gloves for you, it isn't a waste if its for the divine creator!

Pantalone , Tsaritsa , Ningguang , Kamisato siblings .

Honestly,, they'll just continue making sacrifices per usual. And if you don't like them, that's too bad! They tried okay? You can't expect everyone to be filthy rich! That doesn't make them a sinner, it simply makes them logical person! And in the end, their wealth shouldn't matter so much that it shows their level of faith. Some people just, don't want to be spending millions of mora for a small piece of jewelry.

Rosaria , Dottore , Wanderer .

They try buying nice things that they think you'd like, it's expensive surely you must like it! Right? Right?? It's even in the favorite shade of your favorite color! Please don't be disappointed in them, they'll try get something more lavish next time they swear!

Diluc , Gorou , Kokomi , Jean .

They're the one who has built many many manyyy altars, churches and statues in your honor, still gives you things twice as expensive as like all of your organs combined.

Tsaritsa , Ningguang , Kamisato siblings

More of a corpse sacrificing person. Kills and goes to wars in your very honor, will bring multiple gallons of human or animal blood to your altars if you even imply you'd want it.

Capitano , Childe , Arlecchino

Offers you their own creations! It's free servants, and they'll never dare to disobey you! Wayy better than a normal human servant no? They're custom made, include multiple insane features and are guaranteed to help you out in your day to day life once you descend! How can you not accept that??

Dottore , Sandrone

✧ ENDING NOTEzz.. 5555

Christmas is sooo close! I may do a Christmas n New years special but that's a maybe.

✧ casinodove , 22/12/22 .

[francesderwent]

How do I apply for a good Thomist interaction licence?

the real answer is you're my friend so you get a blanket exemption from the DNI.

the funny answer:

Are you a Thomist (derogatory) or a Thomist (affectionate)?

Have you ever unironically stated that society would be better if everyone simply read Thomas? if yes, -1 point. if no, 0 points. if you're more likely to say this about some other thinker, +1 point.

When was the last time you casually referenced a non-Thomas thinker? (it cannot be Aristotle or the catechism, either, it has to be something not so neatly systematized.) if less than three weeks, +1 point! if more than three weeks, -1 point. if you haven't casually referenced any thinkers in five weeks, 0 points.

How much of the Summa do you own? the whole thing, -1 point (because I'm jealous). specific important sections, +1 point. none of it, 0 points.

How do you handle Thomas being wrong? if "I am looking away I do not see it", -1 point. if "Thomas is neither divinely inspired nor infallible and his sainthood and his value as a theologian are not in question because he didn't get everything right", +1 point. if "oh worm?", 0 points.

Are there multiple valid applications of Thomas's theology? if no, only what the Dominicans are doing, -1 point. if yes, thinkers like Maritain and Balthasar can be considered to be validly interpreting Thomas, +1 point. if you don't bother with any secondary sources you just read Thomas and try to interpret him yourself, 0 points.

What do you make of the structure of the Summa (objections, sed contra, I answer that, responses to the objections)? if the clarity allows us to rest in certainty, -1 point. if the clarity is a starting place which draws boundaries which allow us to think more deeply and enter more fully into the infinite mystery, +1 point. if it's annoying, 0 points.

Fill in the blank, "if Thomas didn't write about it...": if "then it's not worth thinking about", -1 point. if "then it's our specific task as moderns to get to the heart of it", +1 point. if "there's stuff Thomas didn't write about? that's crazy, that guy never shut up", 0 points.

Which references do you have more of memorized? if where to find stuff in the Summa (Part, Question, and Article), -1 point. if where to find stuff in Scripture (chapter and verse), +1 point. if you don't know offhand where to find any of the things you vaguely know, 0 points.

Do you read and enjoy novels? if no, -1 point. if yes, +1 point. if only Christian/Catholic novels, 0 points.

Why did Hans Urs von Balthasar die immediately before he could be named a cardinal? if he was slain by Providence because God didn't want him to be a cardinal because of his dangerous ideas, -1 point. if he was slain by Providence because God knew Balthasar didn't want to be a cardinal and was taking pity on him, +1 point. if "wtf are you talking about", 0 points.

Tally up your points.

if you have 5 or more points: you are a Thomist (affectionate)

if you have between -4 and 4 points: you're just chilling

if you have -5 points or less: you are a Thomist (derogatory)

TO BE ABSOLUTELY CLEAR THIS POST IS A JOKE! THE DNI WAS A JOKE! THE WHOLE THING IS A JOKE!

[vriothesley]

the four places thoma asks you to dance with him.

pairing | thoma / gn! reader genre | fluff, slice of life romance, word count | 6.0k+ notes | an old fic i reworked. this holds a very special place in my heart ♡ huge thank you to @yakshahs for helping me with this one, as always. you’re the best.

loving you, loving me — a playlist.

UNDER THE STREETLIGHTS OF INAZUMA CITY, IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT...

The streets of Inazuma City are quiet. Shoes against the pavement, you hear his feet kicking stones and you walk past post after post, seeing the way your shadows—yours and his—rise and fall under the dim lights. Together. In sync.

This silence is okay. Everything about this is okay. Thoma is here, and in silence, there is love between you and him.

Under the night sky, your hand brushes with his as they slightly swing. You don’t pull away when it happens, and neither does he. It’s a quiet declaration of something simple, something divine. This unspoken thing, in the space between, under the street lights down the path—I love you, it says. I love this.

You feel his eyes on you, but you don’t mind it at all. You continue walking down the city streets, and you wonder if he’ll stare at you until you have to part ways at the end of this road. That seems like something Thoma would do. I love you, it says. I love this. You hide a smile under his gaze before turning to look at him back, ever-so-slightly stepping closer to him. It’s subtle, and you hope he doesn’t notice. It feels warmer now. The warmth he has, the warmth he radiates, the warmth he is, comforting on such a cold night. You step closer once more.

“What’s on your mind?” You nudge his arm with yours, offering him a lopsided smile. His eyes never leave yours when he shakes his head. The stars that reflect in the deeper greens of his eyes move.

When your hands touch again, he holds it this time. He takes it in his and keeps it there.

“Not much,” he hums. “You look lovely.”

You could not hold back the small laugh bubbling in your throat at his words. I love this, it says. “Do you not ever get tired of showering me with your sugarcoated words?”

His steps cease, and yours stop with it. He tugs you to face him, pulls you into his space, nuzzles his nose on your temple. “They are not sugarcoated! It is the truth, I would never get tired of telling the truth,” he huffs. He wraps an arm around your waist, another holds your hand up. “Dance with me.”

It comes suddenly. It comes from nowhere. Dance with me, he asks. “Now?”

“Yes,” he simply replies. Thoma is an equally balanced man of thoughtful and spontaneous. “There is music playing somewhere, do you hear it?”

When you strain your ears to listen, Thoma starts moving. Slow, careful. How would you two look if someone were to see you here, in the middle of the night?

“Come on,” he giggles. “Dance with me.”

“I don’t dance, Thoma. I cannot compare to your grace,” you mumble, and albeit hesitant, you sway with him. “And I cannot even hear the music.”

When Thoma hums—whether as affirmation or dismissal, you don’t even know; you don’t bother knowing—he steps to his left. It was not any exaggeration when you told him you don’t dance, because you trip on his feet when you step to your right. The failed coordination is something only you, Thoma, and the street light above you bear witness to. He does not laugh, though. Neither did the street light. And the stars remain in their place in the sky.

The music seems louder now. You hear it. Perhaps the world turned quieter. Perhaps the world is now holding its breath, watching this unfold. Is the universe finding entertainment in this? In the ungraceful, uncoordinated slow dance you and Thoma share? Imperfect and clumsy. Awkward and inelegant. Perhaps it is the very essence of it all—the sheer love from a silly slow dance, in the middle of the night under the street lights of Inazuma City.

Thoma rests his forehead on yours, and you find yourself closing your eyes. It’s been seconds, or maybe minutes, or maybe even hours, but you kept dancing, and dancing, and dancing. There are trips and falls. There are moments of small laughter when you miss a glide or you step on his foot. Thoma puffs his cheeks out and pulls you closer to him. He stops moving to tap his feet onto the pavement, left then right. You could only pull away from him slightly, enough to let him see the silent question written in your face.

Thoma grins, “Go prop yourself on my feet so you can follow my lead.”

His response isn’t very much of a help. You stare at him, eyes wide. “Why?” your brows furrow, “Wouldn’t that hurt?”

“Maybe. But I don’t really mind. You seem uneasy with all the misses we had, and I don’t quite want this to end yet,” he shrugs, but you don’t miss the slight tint on his cheek. It’s a little harder to see in the harsh, dim yellow of the street light, but it’s there. You don’t miss the subtle quietness of his last few words either.

You nod at him, carefully settling your feet on top of his, wary not to hurt him. Moving your hands from the back of his neck to his shoulder instead, you grasp onto him for support. He holds you carefully, tenderly, not letting you fall.

(But that’s funny, isn’t it? You’ve fallen for him so, so long ago. And you would fall for him again, and again, and again. He would be there to catch you. He would be there to hold you by the waist and dance with you.)

Thoma steps to his sides, left and right. You step with him, a look of concern etched on your expression for the mere fact that you are practically standing on his feet. He dismisses your silent inquisitions with a soft kiss to your nose. “I’m alright, (Name). I promise.”

The music does not stop—and you wonder where the music is, actually. Who is playing? What is this tune? For all you know it might be a lullaby for a child, or a song for a loving mother, or a piece for two old lovers.

You’re perfectly content with being in Thoma’s arms.

The music comes to much more mellow harmony, fitting for the coolness of the night. It seems that it’s about to end, but the night is still young and Thoma looks like he’s having the time of his life like this. He looks absolutely beautiful here. He looks absolutely beautiful everywhere. In your arms, he just looks a lot more handsome, almost celestial.

When the music ends, Thoma slowly stops with it. You carefully get off him, planting your feet firmly on the ground, standing on your tiptoes to stretch for good measure. The feeling of the pavement seems foreign now. How long have you been dancing?

The only sounds were the light exhales that leave Thoma’s lips. He remains in his place, his arms around you and his forehead on yours. There is a moment of silence, and the stars breathe. Thoma whispers, breathless, “Thank you.”

You lightly squeeze his shoulders. “For what? For crushing your feet?”

“No,” he laughs. The stars laugh with him, it seems. “For dancing with me. For being here with me.”

The dim yellow of the light above shines a kind of spotlight on you. It makes Thoma look ethereal. He looks godly here. You’re sure you look just as breathtaking. With Thoma, everything is beautiful, even in silence.

AROUND THE KITCHEN, WITH ONLY THE CANDLELIGHT ON…

This is your first home together.

Thoma would most probably say something cheesy, like, “Home is wherever we’re together,” but to finally, really have your first home together feels exhilarating and almost surreal.

The moment you stepped into the house for the first time, you knew this was it. You knew that this is the home you would share. You remember seeing how the sun entered through the windows. You remember how Thoma walked around the small, empty house. Scanning the rooms, pointing at which walls you’d redo and which floorings you’d keep. Telling you how he thinks the bed should be by the windows, so you’d wake up with the morning view of Inazuma. Blinking excitedly when he asked for your input, smiling fondly when you agreed. 

You remember how the sunlight bathed Thoma into a kind of golden glow; how everything dull in the room turned into something otherworldly, unearthly. No empty wood, no blank wall. Just the sunlight, in your new home, with Thoma’s magic.

There is not much to see yet. There is nothing but cardboard boxes and dusty chairs all around. There aren’t even lights in the rooms except the kitchen. Granted, the only light in the kitchen comes from a single lit candle, but there is light nonetheless. There is still sunlight seeping through the open windows, which helps too.

Thoma insists that this is important to do first: to set the kitchen up.

(“We can go to sleep without fancy beds or work in the day without lights, but we cannot function with an empty stomach,” Thoma says, like an elderly man teaching children about the do’s and dont’s of life. Like a man of wisdom, one who has seen more in his life than most people have.)

Another thing he believes to be of priority is the small player in the corner of the common room. It plays some funky music that neither of you know the title of, and it has been on repeat since the day started. Thoma tells you that it’s to liven up the house while you unpack, but you’ve been moving boxes and sweeping floors with him and nothing seems alive but him.

Thoma walks through the entryway of the kitchen, and your gaze follows him from your place in the middle of the floor. You offer him a bored look, and he returns it with a slightly stern stare. It elicits a small groan out of you that Thoma chuckles at. You have no choice but to continue going through box after box, moving each item in place. You don’t comment when Thoma sets the sweeper on the counter and leaves the room.

When every box has been emptied, you move from your seat and twist sideways. Left, right. The stretch soothes the aches in your body from sitting for so long. You eye the array of things you laid out on the floor, and feel a rush of motivation to get moving. Thoma isn’t lazing around, so why are you?

You bend to pick up the nearest thing to your feet, empty salt and pepper shakers. On the first overhead shelf, to the left. Your steps are drowned out by the music from the other room, and you find the next thing to put in place after walking back. Two pans. On the hooks by the second shelf, to the right. Just above the stoves. Dish rack. Just beside the sink. Utensils. In the drawer below the sink, with the organizer Thoma handmade. A small potted plant. Why is there a small potted plant?– In the middle of the kitchen counter. You hear the music stop.

A ladle. In the utensil holder, by the stove. A perforated spoon. In the utensil holder, by the stove. A turner. The music starts again. An upbeat song that you and Thoma listen to on sunny days. There are hurried footsteps from the other side of the room. A spatula. There is a holler, and you almost drop the cooking utensil in your hand in surprise

“Archons, Thoma, what–”

You swiftly turn, and there, by the entryway, Thoma is on his knees with a broom in his hands. He mouths the words of the song and strums his right hand hurriedly, as if playing (quite inaccurately) a larger version of the zither instrument you once saw in the nation of Liyue.

You are at a loss for words. You cannot find anything to say. But Thoma continues, his eyes closed as if he’s passionate about this– But he’s passionate about everything, intensity in every moment. It shouldn’t surprise you that it extends to something as silly as pretend instruments in an empty home. Brooms in hand and knees on the floor.

Thoma opens an eye to peek, then he nods at you. Come on, it says. Dance with me.

You skip across the floor and stand just in front of him, laughing to your heart’s content, preparing to join his shenanigans by pretending to clear your throat before bringing the spatula to your lips. Dance with me. A groove to your left, a sway to your right. Pretending that the spatula is your microphone, the kitchen becomes your stage. Your arm swings with your moves, a dance that looks absolutely horrifying to professional dancers—or to anyone, really—but you don’t shy away. Thoma stands and throws the broom to the side.

He jumps around the room, careful not to step on the remaining things on the floor. He kicks upward, then throws his hands with it. He seems to have a lot of energy to spare, and with all the sitting and sighing the whole day, you do too. You run around with him, singing along with the music.

The setting sun enters from the windows and suddenly, everything is alive. With Thoma, everything comes alive.

This is it. This is home.

Thoma. In the kitchen, dancing around. No perfected moves, zero choreography. Just golden light. Magic, otherworldly, unearthly.

When sunlight is no longer streaming in through the windows and the wind turns cold as the night makes itself known, Thoma rests by the entryway. The sun no longer bathes him, the music comes to a stop. There are only breathless lovers in the kitchen of an empty house.

Thoma wipes the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand before turning to look at you with a boyish grin on his face. “Had fun?”

You take a time to breathe before nodding at him, returning the smile, “So much fun.”

He straightens up, a determined look finding its way to his face. You don’t question him when he walks away and out of the kitchen, and instead takes the time to catch your breath. The broom long forgotten, the sweeper silent on the counter, the rest of the kitchen items you didn’t manage to put into place left on the floor. (Blame Thoma for this. This is his fault.)

You sigh, though. There is a smile plastered on your face that you just couldn’t brush off. It remains there, and you almost throw a laugh remembering how the previous moments unfold—running around the room and dancing instead of doing chores, like children. Thoma still does not return, but soft music starts to fill the house.

You turn to the things laid out across the expanse of the empty kitchen and find a newfound motivation to finish your chores. You pick up the towels, walk towards one of the drawers to place it there. The cups, setting them one by one on the shelves. Plates. Bowls. You hear Thoma’s footsteps grow nearer to you with each passing beat of the music, and when you feel his presence just behind you, he coughs, lowering the timbre of his voice, “May I have this dance?”

Thoma holds your elbow and slowly turns you around. He eyes the bowl in your hand before grabbing it and reaching towards the shelf behind you, pinning you between him and the counter. What a tease, he is. Your hand hits his chest jokingly and he laughs at this before circling his arms around your waist and kissing you on the cheek.

“Didn’t you just scold me for lazing off this morning?” you joke to him.

His nose scrunches at your words. “No, I didn’t.”

Thoma walks you to the spacious part of the room. He looks you in the eye before he starts swaying to the music. You roll your eyes at him, but you dance with him nonetheless, arms around him. The sun is no longer there, but the candlelight creates a silhouette of you and him dancing. The room catches your shadows, entangled in each other’s limbs. No empty wood, no blank wall.

“Not verbally.”

Thoma puffs his cheeks at this, and you tease him with a knowing smile. He pulls you closer. “We can finish this tomorrow,” he resigns. “Just dance with me, now.”

IN THE RAIN, JUST BEFORE NOON…

“I told you it would rain,” you snicker.

Thoma clicks his tongue in disappointment, shaking off his legs, wet from being in the rain. You carefully hold his jacket above both of your heads, leaning closer to him to get better coverage—a feeble attempt to shield off the rainfall.

You’re not exactly drenched, but you’re not quite dry. Not at all. Thoma has it far worse, what with letting you take up most of the space under the small cover as you run towards a small camp just at the outskirts of Chinju Forest. It seems to have not been used for a long time, its tent dilapidated and falling apart, not much of help than Thoma’s jacket.

He sighs. You squat down deeply to rest, closing your eyes as you feel Thoma’s sulking presence just beside you. He sighs again, turning to look up the skies with narrowed eyes, as if he could stop the rain that way. As if he could control the weather. He clicks his tongue when it fails.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, nudging you gently. His gaze falls to his feet and you could not even fathom why he is apologizing for something like this. Thoma continues, “We’re supposed to have a fun date today. Even with the rain we could be–ugh, if only I didn’t forget an umbrella. If only it didn’t rain– Archons–”

With furrowed brows, you grab his arms and carefully turned him to face you. His expression sports dejection, and on any other day you would have laughed and swooned, teasing the undeniable similarity of his pout and Taroumarou’s. On any other day you would have kissed his frown away.

But the kiss would come later.

“Hey,” you click your tongue. His face now rests on the palms of your hands, and you gently squeeze as some form of comfort. “I’m having fun, Thoma. It would’ve been much better if we’re both dry, sure, but that doesn’t mean our day is ruined.”

Your thumbs rub the apples of his cheeks, and you watch in wonder as it turns into a shade of red under your touch. The coolness of the winds and the rains does not help with the blush on the tip of his nose, too.

“You’re only saying that to make me feel better…”

With a light but steady hold, you lift his face up so he would look at you directly. Ah, there it is. Such eyes like Thoma’s could really rival Taroumarou if Thoma tries. It distracts you for a moment.

“I’m not only saying this to make you feel better. I am genuinely very happy. I’m happy that you went out of your way to ask me out today, despite how busy you are at the Kamisato Estate. I’m happy that you planned out a whole day for us two! Though it may not have gone as planned, I’m just happy that I get to be with you,” you chuckle at the way he tries to look away, but you keep your hold firm. There is shyness in his stance, embarrassment in his eyes. You took this as an opportunity to finally tease him, “And I’m very happy, because you’re being very adorable right now.”

Thoma grabs your wrists, eyes wide. He pushes your hands away, gentle enough to not hurt you but still enough to keep your hands away from him. You laugh at his clumsy resistance against your fondness. Still, you managed to hold him and kiss him tenderly. In your arms, he relaxes. It’s a split second yet it feels like an eternity.

When both pull away, you gently nudge him to follow you as you step out of the tent. “Come on,” you tell him, voice excited but still delicate. He could only respond with the furrow of his brows.

“Where?” he tilts his head ever so slightly. “In the rain?”

“Yes.” The answer comes without a hint of hesitation. Thoma just lets himself be pulled by you to wherever. “We’re already drenched, anyway. Come.”

Thoma does not protest, his jacket long forgotten, left on the muddy ground in the abandoned camp you took temporary shelter in. He would scold you for it usually, but he does not now. You run into the middle of the road, arms spread as you turn and turn and turn until you’re almost dizzy and the silhouette of your lover turns blurry. Thoma becomes more puzzled than ever, but only mirth leaves your lips.

You don’t know how it happened. One minute, you’re laughing and letting the rain soak your through. The next, Thoma pulls you into his arms, the warmth of his body on yours. He holds you close enough that you don’t even know where you and him starts and ends.

“What’s with you today? Hm?” Thoma jests. You respond with a laugh, leaning the weight of your whole body onto his arms. He places a small kiss on the tip of your nose before holding the back of your head close against his chest. “You have an odd way of dates.”

He laughs, and it has been laughter ever since you stepped out of shelter. You hear it echo in your ears and you feel his chest shifting with it. You decide to squeeze your arms around his torso instead.

Voice muffled against his drenched clothing, you retort, “Says you, Mr. I-forgot-to-bring-an-umbrella!”

“I thought you said you’re having fun, regardless?”

Such banter between you and him seems unfitting under the weather. If the gods are watching, you would curse them for the unpleasant day. Plans are ruined, paths are cold, skies are dark. But Thoma suddenly pulls you away from the warmth of his body and holds you by your elbows, arms straight, only to spin both of you around. Water sputters everywhere, and your shoes are beyond saving at this point. Nothing is unfitting about this. Everything is perfect.

(Maybe not the shoes beyond saving part, but Thoma is to blame for that.)

All the spinning and running leave you both out of breath, and the raindrops jump against the grass. If you listen carefully, maybe it’s even playing a rhythm with its pelting against the trees and the roofs of the houses in a nearby village.

“The rain doesn’t seem to be letting up,” Thoma says, breathless. “We should change our clothes into something warm, else we risk getting sick. The Kamisato Estate is just up the path, we can–”

“Oh, no,” you immediately reject his idea, hands in defense. “No, no, no! Thoma, that’s–”

“What’s wrong?”

“We can’t– I can’t possible impose– No, I can’t!” Your head shakes rapidly. “That would be so impolite, Thoma!”

“Ayato and Ayaka treat you as their friend, you know? You don’t have to be so prim with them,” he soothes you, rubbing your arms with both his hands. “We could have tea there to warm up. They have great tea, I should know! And they both have been wanting to see you again, since it’s been so long. I think they’re both at the estate right now–”

You grimace at the thought. “That’s even worse. I just–” A sigh escapes your lips, and Thoma waits for you to speak. He remains calm and composed, coaxing you gently and keeping you comfortable. That is just how he is, loving as he will ever be. “In the state we are right now, all wet and muddy, I don’t feel that it is appropriate.”

Thoma purses his lips, as if he’s thinking, then he nods, “Okay.” He wraps his arms around your waist, holding you in an embrace. “I’m sorry, I did not mean to make you uncomfortable.”

A quiet smile finds its way to your lips, and you lift your arms to brush through his wet blonde hair. “It’s alright. I know you had good intentions.” You hear Thoma hums, and you are satisfied with it. You rest your head on his shoulder, continuing to play with the hair on the back of his neck. “We could go home now, if you want. So we can change out of our clothes and wash up. Would you like that?”

“No,” he says. “No, let’s stay like this for a moment. Let’s just make sure to wash up as soon as we get home.”

“Okay.”

If the gods are watching, you would curse them. Under the rain, one afternoon in Inazuma, you had found yourself into your lovers arms. If you get sick after this, you would curse the gods. But…

But you feel Thoma’s heart. It is beating against your chest, and it rings in your ears. It sings a song, and you think, maybe, this isn’t so bad. Thoma moves, and you move with him. The rain dances on your skin, the pitter-patter of the raindrops fall freely on the ground.

The world dances with you.

Right, a dance. What you have with Thoma is exactly that: a dance, carefully done, graceful, wonderful, beautiful. Fluid.

A choreography may have its set steps, but each dancer makes it their own. With every new stage comes a new story.

This is your own dance. Your own story. A pas de deux.

IN MONDSTADT, ON A WARM, LIVELY DAY…

Perhaps you just don’t quite get it. Perhaps you would just never know what it feels like to have half of your being hundreds of miles away, because you have always been whole in one place and never more.

Thoma was not always the Thoma you now know.

He was not always Thoma, the well-known “fixer” of Inazuma. He was not always Thoma, the housekeeper of the Kamisato Clan. He was not always Thoma, Kamisato Ayato’s most loyal. Thoma, Kamisato Ayaka’s most trusted. Thoma, your most loved.

There was a time when he was just… Thoma, in Mondstadt.

Just Thoma, cooking hash browns for his Mondstadtian mother early in the morning. Just Thoma, strolling along the Mondstadt streets leisurely content. Just Thoma, spending his free days in the Favonius Library. Just Thoma, running around the fields in the outskirts of town with certain blue-haired and red-haired boys. Just Thoma.

“Is that them?”

Thoma pauses his small conversation with the fruit stall owner, excusing himself before turning to you. “Hm? Who?”

“The gentlemen you said you grew up with,” you recall, pointing subtly towards the center fountain of the Mondstadt city plaza where a red-haired man adorned with black clothing walks and greets every person they pass by and a blue-haired man with an eyepatch following suit. They both seem to be moving towards your direction.

“It is,” Thoma grins. You feel him move forward, excitement coursing through his body with every step he takes before he waves and the two men wave back.

You follow Thoma, staying behind so as to not overwhelm yourself and to let them bask in the joy of their reunion first. Your lover is as happy as one could be — in glee, in the way you had never seen of him back in Inazuma. Something about this joy, this Thoma, that melts your heart. It’s something so new, yet still so familiar. Because this is Thoma.

“It has been way too long, Thoma,” the blue-haired gentleman says in lieu of a greeting before pulling Thoma into a warm embrace. He pats his back a few times, and you hear Thoma laugh softly.

“It has,” Thoma replies. “I’m glad to see you again, Kaeya.”

You watch as they pull away in all smiles, then as Thoma faces the red-haired man with a subtle mischief to his grin. He gestures for a hug, which the man returns, though less touchy but still visibly affectionate.

“You’ve grown taller, Master Diluc,” Thoma teases.

The man, Diluc, snorts in brief amusement, “Well, I sure am excited you are back to make fun of my height. You and Kaeya loved that when we were kids.”

The three men burst into a quiet laughter, one filled with nostalgia and childlikeness. You see this with your own two eyes and you think that seeing the half of Thoma that you had never known feels so fulfilling. You are seeing him now, and you start seeing him whole. This is Thoma. Just as he is Thoma of Inazuma, Thoma of Mondstadt. Thoma in the Kamisato Estate, Thoma in the Ritou streets, Thoma in the Mondstadt Plaza, Thoma in the Windrise fields.

Your Thoma.

“The dance is about to start,” Kaeya starts once their laughter died down. “You still know how to hold the rhythm, Thoma?”

“Ehh, I’ve done some practice,” Thoma boasts. He turns to you after, flashing you a sweet smile. “Would you like to join? It’ll be fun! But I don’t want to overwhelm you, either, so we can just sit and watch if you want.”

You open your mouth to respond, but before words could even form on your tongue, Kaeya interrupts. “Oh Barbatos, how rude of us! I didn’t know you’d bring someone with you, Thoma!” he happily croons, “Spouse?”

A rush of heat and panic courses through your fingertips. “Oh, oh no–”

“Yes,” Thoma nods fervently, interrupting you before you could even defend yourself. His hand finds its place in yours, intertwining your fingers as it has always done before pulling you closer to him. You look up at him abashed, and he turns to you with a look that he knows. He knows. He knows. And he is not regretting anything, nor is he taking anything back. “Diluc, Kaeya. This is my spouse.”

“Goodness!” Kaeya exclaims, clapping twice. “Then I’ll be the first to ask, would you like to dance?” He puts his hand towards you, gesturing you to take it. He senses your hesitation so he continues. “Don’t worry, I can teach you, and you’ll be better than Thoma in no time. And we have quite!”

You glance at Thoma worriedly, and he gives you a reassuring smile. “Go on, (Name)!” Then he glares at Kaeya, “No funny business, okay?”

“Oh, don’t worry! I won’t speak about the time you were running home because you really needed to go to the toilet but you didn’t even get past your front door before your pants were soi–”

“Archons, would it kill you to shut up for a seco–”

Kaeya gently grabs your wrist, pulling you to the center of the plaza and away from Diluc and Thoma. The red-haired man waves and Thoma just shrugs.

Lively music starts to play, and a few people started joining in. There is not an order to the dancing in the plaza, since everybody seems to be taking their time to practice first. Kaeya taps your forearm twice, catching your attention.

“Sorry about that,” Kaeya sheepishly apologizes, “and sorry about grabbing you. I hope it’s fine.”

“It is, don’t worry,” you reassure. “Though, uhh… I don’t really know how to do this.”

Kaeya laughs, shooting relief down your spine. “Honestly? Me neither! But here’s what I know.”

The blue-haired man in front of you grabs both your hands, gentle in touch. You feel the calluses on his fingertips. He guides you to move, left and right. “Kick out your left foot, then your right. Alternate them in steps forward…” He instructs, one by one, as he moves in unison with you. “...Aaaaand, turn!” Kaeya turns you around, holding you steady with an arm to your elbow when you stumble slightly.

You feel your heartbeat grow quicker with the excitement and nerves, and Kaeya smiles at you with a look that says, that was great! You’re doing great! You glance behind him, locking eyes with Thoma and he raises a high thumbs up to you, easing the tension you didn’t know you had stuck in your body.

“That’s all there is to it, actually,” Kaeya explains. “It’s just a series of repetitions. Kick, left and right. Step, left and right, then turn! You already got the hang of it.”

The music continues and both you and Kaeya move to it. The sun is at its perfect place in the sky, and the city is starting to find its rhythm. Everyone dancing begins to neatly follow their parts in the plaza, and you’re glad that you haven’t stumbled once since you last did when Kaeya was teaching you.

“You know,” Kaeya starts, kicking, left right, stepping, left right, turn. “He was the best behaved child among all of us in Mondstadt. Not even Diluc could compare, because our father would always tell us how good of a boy Thoma was, and we should be more like him.”

Kick, left and right. Step, left and right. Turn. Kaeya chuckles lowly. “Of course I never listened, and neither did Diluc.”

You nod in acknowledgement, gesturing him to continue and that you’re intently listening. You get to hear snippets of Thoma’s life long before you two ever met.

“He’s a great man. I’m sure you know that, too.”

Before you could even continue on with the conversation, a gloved hand gently nudges your elbow and you turn to look. Diluc stands before you two, looking at you with his fiery eyes. “May I?”

“Oh,” you glance at Kaeya, gaze asking. He nods, carefully pushing you into Diluc’s reach without missing a beat. “Of course!”

Kick, left and right. Step, left and right. Turn. Turn. Turn.

“How are you enjoying Mondstadt so far?”

“Uhh,” you try to speak, but not being used to dancing tires you too quickly if you try to speak, “It’s been great. Happy. To see Thoma’s childhood.”

Diluc rubs the back of your hands with his thumbs, apologetic in his actions. “Sorry, you don’t have to talk if you can’t. I’ll do the talking,” he coughs. Left, right, left, right, left, right. Turn. Left, right. “Although I’m not very good at talking either.”

“It’s fine, Diluc,” you grin at him reassuringly. “I’m just not very athletic and definitely not very good at dancing.”

“You’re doing great,” Diluc says.

More people started to join the dance, and everybody else not in the center claps to the lively music. A few people started bringing their instruments and adding to the bustling city their own flavors of music. Kick, left, right, left, right. Step, left, right, left, right. Turn. Turn. Turn.

“Thoma was a good boy,” Diluc wonders aloud, “and now he has grown into a great man.”

You nod in agreement, smiling at the parallel anecdotes from both Kaeya and Diluc. You decide to respond, “He has. He is a great man.”

“I see it. You are so lucky to have him,” Diluc nods, smiling to himself. “But I’m sure he’s just as lucky to have you as well.”

You find comfort in the warm words of Diluc, and you grin inwardly, looking down to try and hide it. He holds you and guides you with ease and grace, and the city of Mondstadt becomes a part of you as well.

It’s so fulfilling. To be able to see the half of Thoma, and to become a part of his whole.

Your eyes look around, searching for the blonde-haired boy, and you see him skipping towards you. He moves to the beat, moving closer inch by inch. He never misses, and you realize that he has danced his whole life. He has danced every part of who he is and he has asked you to dance with him.

Diluc offers your hand to Thoma, and he waves you a small goodbye before moving to the side. Thoma kisses your palm, never losing rhythm.

“Dance with me?”

TAGLIST: @yakshahs. . . my taglist is open! please fill up this form if you want to be added ♡

[santmat]

Third Eye During Meditation: "Close your eyes as in sleep, and look sweetly, lovingly, intently into the middle of the darkness lying in front of you. You will see a dark veil. That which sees the dark veil within, without the help of your physical eyes, IS the inner eye." (Master Kirpal Singh) Finding Your Third Eye, Seeing What You Can See - Initiation Into the Mysteries - Spiritual Awakening Radio @ Youtube: https://youtu.be/YmEJWdH2kII and @ wherever you follow podcasts (Apple, Spotify, etc…): https://www.SpiritualAwakeningRadio.com Everyone has their own third eye whether they realize it or not. Through the Divine Path of Initiation one will learn of the spiritual practices that make it possible to access the third eye center, the seat of the soul, within the temple of the human body. We will discover for ourselves the Mysteries of the Spirit. The Kingdom of the Heavens will open up before us on this inward journey of the soul as we travel through vast realms of Light, Sound and Love on our way back to God. Today we explore Initiation, East and West, at first making use of Marcion's Reconstructed New Testament Apostolicon featuring an amazing, rather old and Gnostic sounding, translation of Saint Paul's First Corinthians chapter two, verses 6 through nine complete with archons and aeons. This manuscript from antiquity actually uses the word "Initiation". The goal of this Initiation is seeing in a new way with another kind of inner spiritual vision, the eye of the soul, and inner hearing with the ear of the soul. This is where we leave the outer world of the five senses behind. This is where we progress from theory, religion or philosophy to the world of practice, of inner experience. This is where the spiritual path truly begins. Also explored: The Gospel of Thomas on what "Eye Has Not Seen, Nor Ear Heard"; the mystic poetry of Sant Tulsi Sahib of Hathras on the ascension of the soul; The Inner Journey Of The Soul Back To Its Origin, by George Arnsby Jones, an initiate of Kirpal Singh; words of encouragement and satsang discourses from Sant Kirpal Singh on Initiation and Surat Shabd Yoga, Inner Light and Sound Meditation practice (sadhana of simran, dhyan and bhajan); recent satsang discourses by Baba Ram Singh also exploring this inward journey of the soul that takes place during meditation, the interior voyage back Home. The goal of this Path is not simply going TO the various inner planes or heavens of creation but to pass THROUGH them on our way back to the Most High Supreme Being given many names such as The Ocean of Love (Anurag Sagar), The Nameless One (Anami Purush, Sat Purush), and The Lord of the Soul (Radhasoami). (RadhaSwami) In Divine Love (Bhakti), Light, and Sound, At the Feet of the Masters, James Bean Spiritual Awakening Radio Podcasts Sant Mat Satsang Podcasts Sant Mat Radhasoami A Satsang Without Walls

[theoihalioistuff]

Re: Dionysus being a hermaphrodite - I'm not sure if I'm missing some context because I did take a look at the said Orphic hymn

"Call Thesmophorus, spermatic God [Dionysos], of various names, who bears the leafy rod:

Mises [Misa], ineffable, pure, sacred queen, two-fold Iacchus, male and female seen"

Does it seem to be implying that Misa is supposed to be the female form of Dionysus? Isn't it more probable that Misa is the female form of Iacchus, a separate divinity (but sometimes identified with a few other gods)?

Hi! I'm sorry it took me a while to answer. Asks are kinda piling up and I'm right in the middle of exams 🥲. If you're waiting to have a question answered, I'm sorry if it takes a while or if I'm not able to get to all of them.

I find the Orphic Hymns to be such a headache, because they differ so much depending on the translation (specially in regards to punctuation, which changes the entire meaning):

Call Thesmophorus, spermatic God, of various names, who bears the leafy rod: [colon] Mises, ineffable, pure, sacred queen, two-fold Iacchus, male and female seen: Illustr'ous, whether to rejoice is thine in incense offer'd, in the fane divine; Or if in Phrygia most thy soul delights, performing with thy mother sacred rites (...) – Thomas Taylor (1792)

I call upon law-giving Dionysus who carries the fennel stalk, unforgettable and many-named seed of Eubouleus, and upon holy, sacred and ineffable queen Mise, whose two-fold nature is male and female. [Full stop] As redeeming Iacchos, I summon you lord, whether you delight in your fragrant temple At Eleusis, or with the Mother you partake of mystic rites in Phrygia (...) – again Apostolos N. Athanassakis (1977)

I call upon law-giving Dionysos, who carried the fennel stalk, unforgettable and many-named seed of Eubouleus, [comma] I call upon the sacred and holy, upon the ineffable queen Mise, whose twofold nature is male and female. [Full stop] Redeeming Iacchos, lord, I summon you, whether you delight in Eleusis in your fragrant temple, or with Mother you partake of mystic rites in Phrygia (...) – Apostolos N. Athanassakis and Benjamin M. Wolkow (2013)

I call on law-giving Dionysos, who bears the fennel wand, much remembered and many-titled seed of Eubouleus and on the holy, sacred, queen Mise, ineffable, with two natures, female and male, the liberating Iakchos. Whether you rejoice in your perfumed temple in Eleusis, or whether you perform your mysteries in Phrygia with the Mother (...) – Patrick Dunn (2018)

As you say Iacchos was frequently a separate deity, but his identification with Dionysos was also quite commonplace. Considering that when several names are listed together in the other hymns they're referring to a single invoked deity (and the orphic obsession of syncretising anyone and everyone with everything and their grandma), it's most likely that Dionysos, Mise and Iacchos are considered the same entity in this context.

Mise is an obscure figure to say the least. Appart from her hymn we only have (as far as I'm aware):

A dictionary entry in Hesychios s.v. [Μισατίς] Μίση: "One of those next to the Mother, whom they also swear by". Radcliffe Edmonds' Redefining Orphism would also see a reference to her in the entry for μισήτην: "They call misētēn the ones who are insatiable; 'and the misētēn women will use dildos' (Cratinus, fr. 316), and some simply call 'misēton' the one who is insatiable for food."

A reference in Herodas Mimes 1.56 that mentions a boy who spies a girl "at the Descent of Mise", referring to a festival or another cultic context.

Two inscriptions in Pergamon, one of which (IJSK 5.38) is the dedication of an altar "to Mise Kore" by the priestess Anthis.

An Orphic fr. 391 mentions Dysaules and Baubo as parents to Protonoe and Nisa. Some would correct the last name to Misa.

I've seen theories that range from claiming she's originally an Anatolian goddess, to claims that she's not a specific entity, but a generic divine stand in for the initiates (μῠ́στης).

Frankly I've become thoroughly annoyed with Orphism. You can't say you're a proper polytheistic religion if you claim that Nyx is also Aphrodite who is also Demeter who is also Gaia who is also Hestia who is also Rhea who is also Isis who is also Selene (who is also Hekate who is also Melinoe) who is also Artemis (who is also Prothyraia who is also Eileithyia who is also Hera) who is also Persephone who is also Mise who is also Iacchos who is also Osiris who is also Adonis who is also Attis who is also Dionysos who is also Phanes who is also Physis who is also Erikepaios who is also Priapos who is also Eros who is also Metis who is also Zeus (who is also Eubouleus who is also Hades who is also Poseidon) who is also Helios who is also Apollo who is also Paian who is also Asklepios who is also Herakles who is also Chronos who is also Kronos, and everybody's also everybody's father and mother and sister and son, and to be honest it all makes me wish that the cosmic egg had never been hatched and I'm glad that Orpheus got torn to pieces.

[merymoonbeam]

Spear?

CC3 spoilers

This is just a manifesting post and more connections I found from cc3 🫡

In my wild hunt post I talked about narben being a spear for... reasons.

I think Gwydion and Truth-Teller are inspired by King Arthur's weapons. In myths it is talked about how he has a sword, a knife and a spear...

Other weapons have been associated with Arthur. Welsh tradition also knew of a dagger named Carnwennan and a spear named Rhongomyniad that belonged to him. Carnwennan ("little white-hilt") first appears in Culhwch and Olwen, where Arthur uses it to slice the witch Orddu in half. Rhongomyniad ("spear" + "striker, slayer") is also mentioned in Culhwch, although only in passing; it appears as simply Ron ("spear") in Geoffrey's Historia. Geoffrey also names Arthur's shield as Pridwen; in Culhwch, however, Prydwen ("fair face") is the name of Arthur's ship while his shield is named Wynebgwrthucher ("face of evening").

So other than excalibur Arthur has a dagger and a spear.

To me it looks like

Excalibur= Gwydion

Carnwennan= Truth-Teller

Rhongomyniad= Narben

So why? Lemme explain.

With Excalibur it is about who is worthy to pull it out of the stone.

Excalibur is the mythical sword of King Arthur that may possess magical powers or be associated with the rightful sovereignty of Britain. Traditionally, the sword in the stone that is the proof of Arthur's lineage and the sword given him by a Lady of the Lake are not the same weapon, even as in some versions of the legend both of them share the name of Excalibur.

Romance tradition elaborates on how Arthur came into possession of Excalibur. In Robert de Boron's c. 1200 French poem Merlin, the first known tale to mention the "sword in the stone" motif, Arthur obtained the British throne by pulling a sword from an anvil sitting atop a stone that appeared in a churchyard on Christmas Eve.[18] In this account, as foretold by Merlin, the act could not be performed except by "the true king", meaning the divinely appointed king or true heir of Uther Pendragon. (As Thomas Malory related in his English-language Arthurian compilation, the 15th-century Le Morte d'Arthur, "whoso pulleth out this sword of this stone and anvil, is rightwise king born of all England."[19][d])

And we have Gwydion/Starsword

That your son, not you, retrieved the Starsword from the Cave of Princes in Avallen’s dark heart. That your son, not you, stood among the long-dead Starborn Princes asleep in their sarcophagi and was deemed worthy to pull the sword from its sheath. How many times did you try to draw the sword when you were young? How much research did you do in this very study to find ways to wield it without being chosen? (Hoeab)

So it matches even though at the end it is Bryce who can access the real power of the sword not Ruhn bc it is sarah and we have the females as a main character.

And now the dagger—Carnwennan and Truth-Teller.

In myths the dagger is described like this.

Carnwennan, or Carnwenhau ("Little White Hilt"), was the dagger of King Arthur in the Welsh Arthurian legends

In Culhwch and Olwen, Arthur names it as one of the few things in the world which he will not give to Culhwch. Later, he uses it to slay the witch Orddu, the daughter of the witch Orwen, by slicing her in half.[1] In the Welsh Triads, Carnwennan is listed alongside Arthur's spear Rhongomyniad and Arthur's sword Caledfwlch as sacred weapons given to him by God: "the sacred weapons that God had given him: Rhongomiant his spear, Caledfwlch a sword, and Carnwennan his dagger" (Bromwich's translation).[2]

The fact that Arthur would not give the weapons to Culhwch when we know Fionn didn't give the Gwydion and TT to Theia? Kinda similar.

My father had never shown himself to be giving—long had he kept Gwydion and never once offered it to my mother. The dagger that had belonged to his dear friend, slain during the war, hung at his side, unused. But not for long.

We learned in cc2 that Gwydion and TT are twin blades.(I went into detail about this and how it connects to elriel in several posts > light and dark, sing me, alpha and omega)

The male drew it, and Bryce flinched. Flinched, but—“What the fuck?” The knife could have been the twin of the Starsword: black hilted and bladed. It was its twin. The Starsword began to hum within its sheath, glittering white light leaking from where leather met the dark hilt. The dagger—.The male dropped the dagger to the plush carpet. All of them retreated as it flared with dark light, as if in answer. Alpha and Omega. “Gwydion,” the dark-haired female whispered, indicating the Starsword.(hosab)

And in cc3 we learn that when you use Truth-Teller...there are shadows.

Bryce threw her power into the Starsword, light ripping through the black blade, willing it to tear this fucking monster apart— She willed it into Truth-Teller, and shadows flowed—

Seems...weird that Truth-teller has "shadow powers" and in acowar we have Elain literally stepping out of a shadow. And we never learned the reason why???

But as a black blade broke through the king’s throat, spraying blood, I realized someone else had. Elain stepped out of a shadow behind him, and rammed Truth-Teller to the hilt through the back of the king’s neck as she snarled in his ear, “Don’t you touch my sister.”

So how these connect to Arthur's dagger? (Just gonna add here that @riddlecrux told me about this before so credit goes to her 🫡)

In addition to his other magical items, Arthur had the invisibility granting Carnwennan. The dagger was providing a kind of presence concealment to Arthur or to its wielder. In European folklore, invisibility-granting items are rather prevalent. These are often recognized as caps or invisibility cloaks. The invisibility attribute of Carnwennan was probably the main reason Arthur named his dagger among the things he could never give up for any reason:

Invisibility? Shadows? @silverlinedeyes made a post before how elain could get a cloak made of void? And we know with Gwydion and TT you can make a portal to nowhere—the void.

“The Starsword is Made, as you called it.” He waved an idle hand, sparks at his fingertips. “The knife can Unmake things. Made and Unmade. Matter and antimatter. With the right influx of power—a command from the one destined to wield them—they can be merged. And they can create a place where no life, no light exists. A place that is nothing. Nowhere.”

It had been a gamble. But she’d seen what the Starsword and Truth-Teller had done to Polaris. They had created a void that had sucked the Asteri in—the only sort of prison that might destroy a being of light. The only force in the universe that ate light, so strong no light could ever escape it. A portal to nowhere. To a black hole. Wasn’t that the unholy power that Apollion possessed? The power of the Void. The antithesis of light.

So maybe we are gonna see elain and the void connected?

Also more about the dagger in Arthurian legends:

Carnwennan, or Carnwenhau, meaning "white hilt" was the dagger belonging to the great King Arthur. It is attributed with the magical power to shroud its user in shadow. This dagger, it is said, was one of three sacred weapons given to King Arthur by God. Arthur names it as one of the few things in the world which he would not give to his cousin Culhwch. King Arthur used this very dagger it to slay the witch Orddu ,daughter of Orwen. by slicing her in half. It is also possible that this is the dagger he once used to kill a giant.

So there is that.

And lastly we have the spear—Rhongomyniad.

There is not much we can use from the myths because the only things we have are its name and it was given to Arthur by god.

Rhongomyniad, or Rhongomiant (variously translated as "Slaying Spear," "Cutting Spear" or "Striking Spear"), was the spear of King Arthur in the Welsh Arthurian legends. Unlike Arthur’s two other weapons, his sword Caledfwlch and his dagger Carnwennan, Rhongomyniad has no apparent magical powers.

In the Historia Regum Britanniae, Geoffrey of Monmouth calls Arthur's lance Ron,[2] presumably an abbreviation of the original Welsh name. Layamon also calls it this in his Brut. Geoffrey states that Arthur carried this lance with him at the Battle of Mount Badon. Layamon states in a passage (without naming the weapon) that Arthur's spear was forged in Carmarthen by a smith called Griffin. He also adds that it formerly belonged to Uther Pendragon.

The wiki says it has no magical power but...if sarah took inspo from Excalibur for Gwydion and the dagger for TT...I wouldn't put it past her to use the spear as an inspo for Narben... especially with her love for 3s.

Also like the spear we dont have much to go on for Narben either. We have so little information.

“Amarantha destroyed one,” Amren said. Cassian started. “I never heard that.” Amren amended, “Rumor claimed she dumped one into the sea. It would not come to Amarantha’s hand, nor the hands of any of her commanders, and rather than let the King of Hybern attain it, she disposed of it.” Azriel asked, “Which sword?” “Narben.” (Acosf)

"Narben was even older than Gwydion,” Rhys said. “Where the hell was it?” (Acosf)

Narben’s powers had not been the holy, savior’s light of Gwydion, but ones far darker. (Acosf)

Rhys studied her blade. “Narben is a death-sword. It’s lost, possibly destroyed, but stories say it can slay even monsters like Lanthys.” (Acosf)

So that's all we know.

Another point...Fionn connection.

In myths there is a HUGE part about Fionn using a spear to defeat a giant.

Also known as the Spear of Fiacha (or Fiacail), Birgha was an enchanted, venomous spear. The warrior Fiacha, a follower of Cumal (a leader of the Fianna), gave the spear to Cumal’s son Fionn mac Cumhail so that he might defeat Aillén, an evil creature/former member of the Tuath Dé Danann who resided, three-hundred-and-sixty-four days a year, in the Otherworld. Each and every Samhain the monster—nicknamed “the burner”—would wreak havoc on the royal residence of Tara (also: Teamhair) with his fire-breath after lulling its defenders to sleep with enchanted music. Specifically, Aillén plays—or weaponizes, I should say—the suantraí (lullaby) strain of ancient Irish music, which is frequently deployed by gods, druids, and other musicians in the myths in order to incapacitate opponents. That’s where Birgha comes into play. In Lady Gregory’s version of events, Fiacha teaches Fionn how to unlock the power of the spear, instructing his pupil as follows: “When you will hear the music of the Sidhe, let you strip the covering off the head of the spear and put it to your forehead, and the power of the spear will not let sleep come upon you.”

Just saying...with all of a new character singing...having some effects on others...IDK. WEIRD. 🫣

Another point is Four treasures of Tuatha de danaan. ( @offtorivendell made a post about them before )

Dagda's Cauldron

pretty self explanatory...cauldron.

Claiomh Solais (the sword of light)

Gwydion.

The sword may be rendered in English as the "Sword of Light", or "Shining Sword".

The Sword of Light or Claidheamh Soluisis a trope object that appears in a number of Irish and Scottish Gaelic folktales. The "Quest for sword of light" formula is catalogued as motif H1337.

The Starsword sang with light, her power flowing into it. Activating it. And nothing had ever felt so right, so easy, as plunging the blade into the bony chest of the wounded Reaper. It arced, bellowing, black blood spurting from its withered lips. (Hosab)

Narben’s powers had not been the holy, savior’s light of Gwydion, but ones far darker.(acosf)

Lia Fail Stone

My whole wild hunt post is about this. You can read it there. Basically I think this is the inspo for the stone on top of Ramiel.

The Spear of Lugh

And here is the reason I think Narben might be a spear.

Lugh's spear (sleg), according to the text of The Four Jewels of the Tuatha Dé Danann, was said to be impossible to overcome.

Interesting that Amren said this about Narben in acosf:

“I don’t know, but she found it, and when it would not bend to her, she destroyed it. As she did all good things.” It was as much as Amren would say about that terrible time. “It was perhaps in our favor. Had the King of Hybern possessed Narben, I fear we would have lost the war.”

More info for Spear of Lugh.

In a full narrative version called [A]oidhe Chloinne Tuireann (The Fate of the Children of Tuireann),[51] from copies no earlier than the 17th century,[52] Lugh demands the spear named Ar-éadbair or Areadbhair (Early Modern Irish: Aꞃéadḃaiꞃ) which belonged to Pisear, king of Persia. Areadbhair's tip had to be kept immersed in a pot of water to keep it from igniting, a property similar to the Lúin of Celtchar. This spear is also called "Slaughterer"[53] in translation.

Narben is a death "sword"

Rhys studied her blade. “Narben is a death-sword. It’s lost, possibly destroyed, but stories say it can slay even monsters like Lanthys.” (Acosf)

Also the spear of Lugh is connected with lightning.

Lugh's projectile weapon, whether a dart or missile, was envisioned to be symbolic of lightning-weapon.

Also known as the Lightning Spear, or simply Lugh’s Spear, the Gae Assail was one of the Four Treasures or Jewels of the Tuatha Dé Danann

And to me it is interesting that Ramiel means "god has thundered" maybe there is a connection?

Lugh's sling rod, named "Lugh's Chain", was the rainbow and the Milky Way, according to popular writer Charles Squire.[57] Squire adds that Lugh's spear which needed no wielding was alive and thirsted so for blood that only by steeping its head in a sleeping-draught of pounded fresh poppy leaves could it be kept at rest. When a battle was near, it was drawn out; then it roared and struggled against its thongs, fire flashed from it, and it tore through the ranks of the enemy once slipped from the leash, never tired of slaying

So thanks for reading.

I NEED A SPEAR 😭😭

[izasbjdphoto]

My dear Val, handsome as ever! I am slowly experimenting with playing with my 50mm lens for doll photos, and Val was my first victim. These 4 shots turned out decent at least!

Val is a Simply Divine Thomas on a Doll Family-A 70cm body, with a Monique Gold wig and SoulinaBox eyes. Faceup by me over at @izasfaceups

[justrandomayatolover]

Relationship hcs or something pt.2 w/ Thoma, Kokomi, Kirara

Includes: gn!reader, my little to no knowledge about Kirara so I'm very sorry if I portray her wrong, mentions about other characters, in Kirara's part reader is some sort of youkai too(your choice I don't mention anything, except some sort of unusual parts[tail, ears, horns your choice])

Here's part 1 and part 3:D

Thoma:

The moment Thoma understood he likes you more than a friend, he started baking and cooking for you every day

He would bring you dinner, lunch or even breakfast with small letters that contained some compliments or a "good day :)"

After some time when he decided that he wants to confess he did it through letters

But each meal he brought had only one word in his letter

"I" "would" "like" "to" "go" "out" "with" "you" "please"

Later when your relationship ship began, you told him that all the letters he gave you, you kept

Also the moment kamisato siblings found about you, Ayaka immediately liked you and Ayato couldn't help but tell all embarrassing things he saw Thoma do

But they both are very fond of you and treat you like family

Kokomi:

Since she's usually very busy and spends her free time to relax in that cave thingy, she met you there

Since then you and her were regularly meeting for some coffe or tea to talk about your everyday life as youkai but then the meetings were later and became more like little dates that became a full time relationship

Since your curiosity won the fight called "should I go in ther or not?" you certainly didn't expect to see Divine Priestess going in there

Yet from that meeting was born your relationship

At first it was only once per month you were spending time together there

Then it became once per two weeks, then one and finally everyday

Then Kokomi was simply sad and less energetic without you next to her

But was too shy and embarrassed to tell you so she tried to ignore it

So you decided to take matter in your own hands and confessed to her

At first she didn't know how to react so next day Gorou brought you a letter and gave you a small apology from her that she ran away

Later on you became her new safe place, someone who she could show her true self and share her thoughts

Kirara:

Kirara met you when someone from your home brought something through Komaniya Express

At first she delivered it with big smile on her face but then it got even larger when she saw that you're too a youkai

In a split second she asked like 20 questions about your body and type of youkai you are

Shocking you beyond explanation of course

Of course she dragged you to work with her in Komaniya Express so you can spend more time together

Oh damn, I'm really surprised how quickly so many people liked the first one lol

[eternal-echoes]

“One aspect of ancient Greek philosophy that constituted a bridge to Catholic thought is the suggestion that there is a certain kind of life that befits a chimpanzee, and one that befits a human being. Possessed of reason, the human being is not condemned to act on mere instinct. He is capable of moral reflection, an ability that must always elude even the cleverest specimens of the animal kingdom. Should he fail to exercise this faculty, then he never lives up to his own nature. If he will not engage in intellectual activity or serious moral reckoning when it comes to his own behavior, then what is the point of his being human in the first place? If one's guiding principle is to do whatever brings immediate pleasure, one is in a sense no different from a beast.

The Church teaches that a life truly befitting humanity requires the assistance of divine grace. Even pagan Romans perceived something of the degraded condition of man: "What a contemptible thing is man," wrote Seneca, "if he fail to rise above the human condition!" The grace of God could help him do so. Here the Church has held out the examples of the saints, who demonstrate that lives of heroic virtue are possible when human beings let themselves decrease so that Christ may increase.

The Church teaches that a good life is not simply one in which our external actions are beyond reproach. Christ insists that it is not enough merely to refrain from murder or adultery; not only must the body not yield to such crimes, but the soul must also keep from leaning toward them. Not only should we not steal from our neighbor, but we should also not allow ourselves to indulge in envious thoughts about his possessions. Although we are certainly permitted to hate what is evil—sin, for example, or Satan himself—we are to divorce ourselves from the kind of anger and hatred that only corrode the soul. We are not only not to commit adultery, but we are also not to entertain impure thoughts, for to do so turns one of our fellow human beings into a thing, a mere object. Someone wishing to lead a good life should not want to make a fellow human being into a thing.

It has been said that to do anything well is difficult, and that living as a human being rather than as a beast is no exception. It requires moral seriousness and self-discipline. Socrates had famously said that knowledge was virtue, that to know the good was to do the good. Aristotle and St. Paul knew better, for we can all recall moments in our lives at which we knew perfectly well what the good was but did not do it, and likewise knew what was wrong but did do that. This is why Catholic spiritual directors instruct those under their charge to eat a carrot the next time we want a cupcake; not because cupcakes are evil, but because if we can get into the habit of disciplining our wills in cases in which no moral principle is at stake, then we shall be better prepared in the moment of temptation, when we are indeed faced with a choice between good and evil. And just as the more habituated we become to sin the easier further sin becomes, it is also true, as Aristotle observed, that virtuous living becomes ever easier the more we engage in it and the more it becomes a matter of habit.”

- Thomas E. Woods Jr., Ph.D., “The Church and Western Morality,” How the Catholic Church Built Western Civilization

[tanadrin]

there’s an episode of SHWEP where earl fontanelle (still can’t believe the guy is named like a thomas pynchon character) interviews a scholar of hellenistic astrology and practicing astrologer, and it’s an interesting discussion, about, like, how astrology was probably practiced historically and the role and development of birth charts, and how that specific kind of astrology was spread from the eastern mediterranean to far-away places like india and china and japan.

but, like

okay, the thing that kills me about astrology specifically as a form of divination, beyond all other forms of divination--all of which are ways of trying to reduce anxiety about the world by increasing the amount of knowledge (we feel) we have--is that haruspicy or yarrow stalks or cartomancy or oneiromancy, those all have a stochastic element to them, right? it’s an aid in pattern-matching, and it makes more plausible, as a diviner, that the information you obtain could be somehow tailored to your specific situation or question because it’s not determined in advance. i mean, the underlying mechanism is still nonsense; there is no mechanism; but “there is no mechanism” and “the mechanism is opaque” are, from the outside, sometimes difficult enough to distinguish in practice (especially to our pattern-matching brains) that it is, from the realm of normal everyday experience, plausible.

but astrology is... the exact opposite of this! since the planets reached their final orbits early in the formation of the solar system, their behavior has been predictable for millions of years in advance. there are No Surprises there, not at the length of human lifetimes or civilizations. ancient astrology was protoscientific in a way that other forms of divination were not, because even without understanding the keplerian laws of planetary motion or having a good theory of gravity, or even a decent model for the solar system as an object, you can make extremely accurate predictions about how the planets move, in a way that is anathema to the basic mechanism of almost all other forms of magic and divination, which must leave room for ambiguity so as to permit belief.

it’s consistent, i guess, in that if you ask the system the same question twice you will get the same answer, but as a method of divination, it completely lacks even basic plausibility. patterns so regular they can be predicted literally thousands of years in advance shouldn’t be something you can plausibly argue the reality of; they should scream at you from every corner of life experience. they should show up in every statistic ever compiled, on any subject. and not just the big stuff, like your sun sign, but all the little details about aspect and rising signs and what not, and moreover, it should be possible to determine which astrological system is correct.

this problem seems so basic that even many ancient astrologers, in both mesopotamia and the greek world, seem to have discounted the divinatory potential of astrology, and treated stuff like the zodiac as modern astronomers do, as simply a form of celestial reference. it is sufficiently different as a practice that even people who thought chicken livers were a good mechanism for inquiry into the future looked at it and said “i dunno, this smells like bullshit to me.”

[inblazes]

🌸 - to place a flower crown on your muse’s head . from Thoma but it’s them as kids 😌

Diluc fumbles with the small collection of dandelions in his lap, sitting cross-legged upon the grass. With another stalk split too short, he attempts to compare his flower crown with Thoma's recently-completed exemplar... And finds that his own efforts literally fall to pieces between his hands.

It isn't fair -- not when his friend is clearly so much better at this, despite his best attempts to explain and guide the young master on what to do. Diluc is simply too heavy-handed with the precious, delicate blooms at this young and clumsy age, and his sulking is evident as he enviously spies the crown of flowers which presently sat atop Thoma's head. He is gloriously decorated, a halo of flowers making him as resplendent and graceful as the divine angels he saw depicted in the city church.

Yet his is a sadness not meant to last; for when Diluc's head droops in shame, a second crown is gently placed upon his head.

In an instant, the stormclouds growing overhead part ways and allow for sunshine to fill his youthful features.

"What do you think? Does it make me look like an angel? Or maybe a crown prince?"

The young princeling rises 'pon scuffed knees, standing tall and triumphant as loose, fiery curls fell about his shoulders. He'd played this character often -- the role of the knightly royal, protecting the great land of Mondstadt with tree branch in hand.

Thoma was his trusty knight captain, ever at his side to support him no matter the catastrophe that befell the lands. Last weekend, it had been an almighty and wicked dragon that prowled the streets of the city. Today, he sought to vanquish the sirens that ruled the docks of Starfell lake.

...That is, until his belly rumbled, and he was reminded of the fact that he had missed his lunch.

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

Music for the Soul by Alexander MacLaren

The Ultimate Purpose of God's Word

"These are they which bear witness of Me; and ye will not come to Me, that ye may have life." – John 5:39-40

Scripture is not given to us merely to make us know something about God in Christ, nor only in order that we may have faith in the Christ thus revealed to us, but for a further end - great, glorious, but, blessed be His Name! not distant - namely, that we may "have life in His Name." "Life" is deep, mystical, inexplicable by any other words than itself. It includes pardon, holiness, well-being, immortality. Heaven; but it is more than they all.

This life comes into our dead hearts, and quickens them by union with God. That which is joined to God lives. Union with Christ in His Sonship will bring life into dead hearts. He is the true Prometheus that has come from Heaven with fire, the fire of the Divine Life in the reed of His humanity; and He imparts it to us all if we will. He lays Himself upon us, as the prophet laid himself on the little child in the upper chamber; and lip to lip, and beating heart to dead heart. He touches our death, and it is quickened into life. And the condition on which that great Name will bring to us life is simply our faith. If you trust Him as the Son of God who comes down to earth that we in Him might have the immortal life He is ready to give, then the end that God has in view in all His revelation, that Christ had in view in His bitter Passion, has been accomplished for you. If you do not, it has not. You may admire Him, you may think loftily of Him, you may be ready to call Him by many great and appreciative names, but oh! unless you have learned to see in Him the Divine Saviour of your souls, you have not seen what God means you to see. But if you have, then all other questions about this Book, important as they are in their places, may settle themselves as they will; you have got the kernel, the thing that it was meant to bring you. Many an erudite scholar that has studied the Bible all his life has missed the purpose for which it was given; and many a poor old woman in her garret has found it. It is not meant to be wrangled over, it is not meant to be read as an interesting product of the religious consciousness, it is not to be admired as a specimen of the literature of a nation that had a genius for religion, but it is to be taken as being God’s great Word to the world, the record of the revelation that He has given us in His Son. The Eternal Word is the theme of all the written Word. Have you made the jewel which is brought us in that casket your own? Is Jesus to you the Son of the living God, believing on whom you share His life, and become sons of God by Him? Can you take on to your thankful lips that triumphant and rapturous confession of the doubling Thomas - the flag flying on the completed roof-tree of this Gospel - "My Lord and my God "? If you can, you will receive the blessing which Christ then promised to all of us standing beyond the limits of that little group, " who have not seen and yet have believed " - even that eternal life which flows into our dead spirits from the Christ, the Son of God, who is the Light of the world and the Life of men.