#Purity is truth

[juliaridulaina]

Puresa és veritat//Purity is truth//Pureza es verdad

En l’àmbit espiritual es parla sempre de puresa, i, moltes vegades se’ns escapa el seu veritable significat, o, ens plantegem que això només és cosa dels àngels o de Déu. Perquè, ni tan sols els sants, ni persones que s’han entregat a la vida mística, ni ascetes, etc., cap d’ells son íntegrament purs. Punts: Les ànimes poden fer-se pures, però els seus cossos son impurs. Els cossos estan fets…

[fistfuloflightning]

Bitter Truth

[red-winter-is-coming]

Some silles :33

In order:

Recluse - Absol - Bluebonnet

Artificial Vanilla - Zorua - Thorns

Healer - Alolan Raichu - Milkweed

Vanilla - Jirachi - Daffodils

Lamb - Mareep - Baby's Breath

[mayobleachigosns5eva]

Free! Iwatobi Swim Club stigma

Free! is like reflection from Mulan cuz all everybody ever sees is the reflection (fanservice, bl) and not the girl it is inside (beautiful art and animation, great characters and storyline, super sweet silly wholeseome meoments, really sad thing, good writing (imo), CUTENESS 2 DA MAX, just a plain good n nice show…)…. Please watch Free guys…. See not just its reflection but the girl it is inside…

(read tags)

[memento-morri-writes]

random snippet - birthday duels

aka Terrible Time Tuesday (yes, I posted parts of this yesterday. But the new parts, which is most of it, are fun! I promise!!)

Rook was not having a good time on Sunday, and this was before he died from a plethora of stab wounds. Would you believe me if I said this was one of the "best" times he's dealt with bad feelings? pov: Rook wordcount: 1.1k character(s): Rook (D&D), Tyra (NPC), Aki (Other PC) canon status: canon session rewrite trigger warnings: death mention, grief, guilt, self-hatred, very unhealthy coping mechanisms summary: on the birthday of his recently deceased friend, Rook struggles to deal with his emotions and winds up taking them out on his first mate, Tyra.

As the day wore on, the black cloud of grief that had settled over the ship grew thicker and more oppressive. Rook paced the deck, nearly vibrating with tension. It was almost suffocating, pressing down on him with the weight of a thousand regrets. 

Thoughts clawed at the back of his mind, bringing unwelcome reminders of the part he had played in Warren’s death. If things had gone differently, if he had been a little faster, a little smarter, would his friend still be here?

He shook his head rapidly, trying to shake off the guilt that clung to him with barbed claws. The others didn’t blame him. They’d made that point very clear. And yet, he still couldn’t help but blame himself. 

Wrenching his thoughts away from the dark pit they were circling, he marched up the stairs leading to the quarterdeck. Tyra stood at the helm, talking to Tempest. When she saw Rook, she trailed off. 

She opened her mouth in greeting, but before she could say a word, Rook spoke. “I know you’re more than capable of handling the crew, but how do I know you can hold your own in a fight?”

Tyra’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I can handle myself. I’m best with my pistol,” she tapped the beautifully carved handle emerging from the holster at her hip, “but I’m not too bad with a rapier.”

Rook made a contemplative sound. There was a long pause as he looked her up and down. “Show me.”

Drawing his rapier, he turned on his heel and descended to the deck, stepping onto the cargo hatch. The crew moved out of the way, clearing a space around him. Looking back up at Tyra, he beckoned her with his sword. 

Tyra exchanged an unreadable glance with Tempest, who stepped forwards to take the wheel as she slowly made her way down to the main deck. She positioned herself across from Rook. Hesitantly, she drew her sword, a curved cutlass that was shorter and thicker than his rapier, with a wide, flat blade.

Around them, the crew had started murmuring, hurriedly placing bets. Rook let their voices fade away, trying his best to clear his racing mind. He and Tyra stared at each other, time stretching out between them.

Then, in the blink of an eye, Rook lunged, sending his blade towards Tyra’s chest. She stepped back, parrying his strike with the flat of her blade. She tried to keep the momentum going, but he disengaged, dancing out of her reach. Now it was her turn to bridge the gap, lunging towards him. He knocked her blade aside with ease. 

Their blades clashed again and again as he effortlessly parried her every blow. She redoubled her efforts, deflecting his next strike. Drawing her arm back, she prepared to attack, leaving her torso unguarded. Rook struck. In a flash, he had his blade hovering over her chest. She froze.

In the background the crew exchanged money as the two stood there, gazes locked. Rook stepped back, raising his sword into a ready position. His heart pounded in his ears as he said, “Again.”

Tyra’s eyes widened, but she raised her sword. This time, she struck first, trying to gain the upper hand early. But it wasn’t long before he had her on the defensive, trying her best to hold him back.

She blocked him again, and this time, instead of pulling back for another strike, he stepped forwards, pushing his sword down her blade. With a flick of his wrist, he knocked the cutlass from her hand.

She stepped back, breathing heavily. 

Rook crossed to where her sword lay, and with one quick motion from his foot, sent it flying into his hand. He held it out to her, hilt first. Reluctantly, she took it. 

“Again.”

This time, he didn’t even give her a second to gather her bearings before he struck, targeting her with several blows in quick succession. Immediately she fell onto her back foot, desperately trying to match his furious pace.

He kept pushing her back, off of the cargo hatch that had been their arena until her foot caught and she stumbled. He pressed on and she fell, back hitting the wood of the deck with an audible thud as her sword clattered from her hand. Rook stood over her, blade hovering inches above her throat. He stared down at her, heart pounding. 

A gentle tap on his shoulder caused him to whirl around, striking at the source of the gesture. The tip of his blade pierced a translucent blue hand, causing it to dissolve into the air. Behind it, Aki stared at him, eyes wide.

“Rook, stop this.” He frowned. “It isn’t healthy.”

“I don’t care.”

Aki’s brow furrowed. “It isn’t helping you.” When Rook said nothing, he added, “Look at her, she’s exhausted.” He gestured towards Tyra.

Rook turned to look at his first mate, who was slowly getting to her feet. She was disheveled, her clothes rumpled and her locs in disarray. Her chest rose and fell as she panted for breath. Aki was right, she was tired. 

“Let her go,” Aki said gently.

Whatever he had been trying to do by challenging her, it wasn’t working. He was breathing more heavily than normal, but it was more due to the tightness in his chest than a difficult fight. His muscles trembled, not from effort or exhaustion, but from tension.

Rook squared his shoulders. “Fine.” He sheathed his sword and turned away. He could feel the crew’s eyes on him as he headed towards the ratlines leading up to the crow’s nest. Ignoring them, he grabbed the rope and began to climb.

Though it had been years since he’d climbed the rigging, it came back to him easily, his body’s memory of six years of sailing guiding him up to the small basket-like platform near the top of the mast. A member of the crew sat inside. As Rook’s head came into view, she started, eyes wide.

“Get out.”

She nodded and hurriedly clambered over the edge, scurrying down the rigging towards the deck.

Rook sank onto the floor of the crow’s nest, tipping his head back until it touched the low wooden wall surrounding the platform. Closing his eyes, he breathed in, then out, forcing himself to slow down.

He wasn’t sure if it was the gentle rocking of the ship, or the wind on his face, or the sun on his skin, or simply the distance from the deck and all the gloom that hung over it, but slowly the tension faded from his body. 

[qkmlh]

*deep inhale* Fascinating how it’s consistently a good chunk of a certain set of fans who repeat the same benign headcanons believing them to be real and proof of canon *shuttering exhale befalling a headache* yeah yeah yeah

[uchiha-gaeshi]

I would never wish growing up in a hyper religious African house on my worst enemy. The cognitive dissonance is insane especially if you grow up in the West yet your family (and other African families around you) insist on clinging on to asinine “traditions” that are really just covers for abuse.

[shallowseeker]

This is the funniest thing you've ever said @ananke-xiii:

[Maybe] John wasn't a Led Zeppelin fan, he knew a few of their songs just fine and used his knowledge to court Mary (good move, king) and then went home, listened to all of their songs, learnt all their lyrics and shaped his personality so that she would like him. Here, I've said it.

And actually, that's pretty damn cute. Mary was so impressed with his passing knowledge that he rushed home to study his crush's interests so the date would go even better next time.

That's so John-coded (overpreparation).

///

But also. I love how this theme reminds me of some of the stuff I write about Harper Sayles and the ghost of "imaginary lovers that never let me down."

Perhaps even John couldn't live up to the idea of John, like Vance could never be the Vance of Harper's expectations (which is, incidentally, why Harper kills him, forever crystallizing him in a Purgatorial "black-and-white," where he could never disappoint her).

This is also tangential to Cas and The Empty: "Come on, Castiel. Wouldn't you rather be a fond memory than a festering disappointment?" In the world of SPN, to live, to be REAL, is to be a disappointment. (Also see: All of Mary's arc.)

[thepersonalwords]

What is truth" I was asked. "Truth is neither good nor bad. Neither evil nor pure. It just is." That's what I told her. Because through our convictions of good and bad, of evil and pure, we taint the truth with our own filters and our own desires. Truth is no respecter of what that man over there thinks is good or of what that woman over there thinks is evil. Truth remains as Truth, regardless of what you think about it.

C. JoyBell C.

[skyexrose]

Longing for someone's presence rather than their physical attributes represents a deep, meaningful connection that transcends mere physical desire. This idea resonates with the biblical notion of love that seeks a genuine, heartfelt bond, as illustrated in 1 Samuel 16:7, 'The Lord does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart' True intimacy, in this light, is about valuing and desiring the essence of a person, their spirit, and their company, reflecting a love that mirrors the depth and purity of God's love for us.

[alienfailboy]

spent a little too long on tiktok

HELLO FREAKS

[biblebloodhound]

Wise Living Is Clean Living (Proverbs 15:1-17)

A level-headed person gives helpful answers, but a know-it-all only keeps on babbling nonsense.

A gentle answer quiets anger, but a harsh one stirs it up. When wise people speak, they make knowledge attractive, but stupid people spout nonsense. The Lord sees what happens everywhere; he is watching us, whether we do good or evil. Kind words bring life, but cruel words crush your spirit. It is foolish to ignore what your parents taught you; it is wise to accept their…

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

Filipperne 4:8 Desuden opfordrer jeg jer, kære venner, til at fokusere jeres tanker på det, der er sandt og ædelt, ret og rent, det, man værdsætter og taler godt om, ja alt, hvad der udmærker sig og er værd at rose.

Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable—if there is any virtue and if there is anything worthy of praise—dwell on these things. — Philippians 4:8 | Bibelen på hverdagsdansk (BPH) and Tree of Life Version (TLV) Bibelen på hverdagsdansk (Danish New Living Bible) Copyright © 2002, 2006 by Biblica, Inc.® All rights reserved worldwide and Tree of Life Translation of the Bible. Copyright © 2015 by The Messianic Jewish Family Bible Society. Cross References: Romans 14:18; 1 Peter 2:12

Read full chapter

What does it mean to “think about these things” (Philippians 4:8)?

[spotsupstuff]

Biting Notos mentions "Ghastly Things" he did to other iterators in his and Spores' ascension comic. What did he do, how did he do it, to whom, and to what end?

-face in hands- Notos is a primary it/its user!!!! with a she/her as the original pronouns that it doesn't mind bein refered to as even after its change, por favor no he/heem

but the ghastly things include: • waving its status as an Anemoi in front of an Iterator to scare them into compliance/threats (everybody knows that any threat made by Biting Notos will Not be an empty one) • actual physical assault by sending in some kind of virus that an Eo Iterator can't exactly defend themselves from cuz of Notos' position as a superior Iterator (again, place with the Anemoi. this is its least favorite thing to do and usually tries to delay it as much as possible) • what it considers the worst: manipulation. its manipulation might be straightforward between it and the target, but it can Also be done specifically to influence or break friend groups by getting under the skin of one of them. the influence one happened with Spore and her friend group. Notos clawed itself a way under Spore's plating and then with Spore as its metaphorical puppet it quietly forced Gem in an Eye and Sordid Expiation into compliance with Mission Self-preservation

important note here is that Notos is acutely aware that these things are horrible to do, especially to people that are meant to be family. it takes no joy from this and when given the chance, it will try and steer the whole ordeal into a civil conversation. just like it says in the Anemoi as Ancients drawing

it does not wish to inflict suffering. its job as an Enforcer is a necessary burden it took on itself to ensure the survival of Mission Self-preservation. for the greater good of survival of Everyone in the group, it needs to shepherd the less thoughtful and kind Iterators into this. it wouldn't be fair if most of them tried so so hard to stay alive and find cures for their illnesses/problems, but it all failed just because a handful of assholes didn't care enough

its actions are righteous. it regrets having to harm kind souls in order to get through to the ruckus makers (like with Spore who was genuinely sweet and Gem n Expiation who were too haughty to give a shit about everyone else's fates, including Spore's). it was still horrible to mess with the three's relationships, including the two ruckus makers

Biting Notos isn't an Iterator that can say they are proud of most of what they've done in their existence

[j4jml]

“Intelligence is the shadow of objective Truth. How can the shadow vie with sunshine?.” - Rumi

Shadow-v-Sunshine 10/08/2023 © All Rights Reserved by Jamil Hussain

[theprodigals]

the more time goes by the less interested i am in ever returning to the evangelical chuch