#solemnlance

[sahara-solaris-solace]

Slightly and Brief Dark Yandere and Slight NSFW Miko Chen on holidays, happen in the HeadCanon I wrote ( Horror Version )

Thump

He heard it again.

Miko shot his eyes wide as his ears wiggle slightly to hear any sudden movement. He glared over an intrusion as he barely had time to spend with you.

He turned to see you, his Angel, snored quietly on his left side while your entire lithe body laid on his left side, both of you are bare minus him who had on his white short sleeve plain t- shirt.

He concealed his growl as he reluctantly got out of bed while gently maneuvered you on the mattress. He quietly walked out of his room and opened the door in silence before he went to the kitchen to grab two kitchen knives and water.

He did not care to make himself decent, for the intruder did not even hide their rudeness to harass you two deliberately.

Using his ninja skills he learned from Sensei Uragiri, he made his way to the source and saw three giant silhouettes from outside of his booked AirBnB by the woods in a cabin.

He silently slipped outside and made his way to find three grown men giggling and two of them appeared to jerk themselves as they peeked through one the wood holes m from your bedroom.

“I wish I was Miko. Having to fill her up and ravaging her to his fullest.”, the fattest one groaned as the other fat one with little hair on the forehead also nodded before he too whined.

“Who knew that whiny and angry Miko turned to be very successful. Must be nice to be rich and have ladies all the time.”, perhaps to some heartless barbaric people who saw people as lesser but to Miko, he just treated people with neutrality.

Miko suddenly became shock before he turned dark triple when he realized these were his former bullies from the orphanage. Not that he wasn’t mad in the first place with those indecent comments but now it became too personal.

“Yo! Stop slumping like that! You’ll make them wake up!”, the one, the ringleader slapped the fattest one as he mumbled an apology.

“Man! If only we can get rid of Miko and take turns filling her in!!!”, he laughed maliciously as his two friends followed suit.

Swush.

The three gasped and looked around and felt chill ran their spine before the fat guys heard muffle and turned and peed themselves to see their leader’s lips had been sliced off and it dropped on the ground before a hand grabbed his head and twisted slightly before their leader was gone for good.

They shivered and looked up to see Miko glared daggers and had on a very dark look with two large knives on his hand.

Rain thundered heavily above them as they sprinted to the woods as their screams were blocker by thunder.

…….

You gasped when you heard lightning and you opened your eyes in shock.

You turned to the curtained window and saw rain poured heavily.

You shifted your view and screamed in horror when you were met face to face with a semi bloodied face of Miko Chen, who’s eyes shot in an instinct and from a brief nap after the murder.

“Angel! Calm down!”, Miko gripped your shoulders as you darted away and fell off the bed and ran to the door only to have two strong arms encased you as you almost became hysteric and let out a distressed cry, your body shook violently as you recalled his bloodied face all while Miko grew worried.

“Please, Y/N! It is only me! I am still here!”, he cooed gently to soothe you as you suddenly regained your composure before you turned to look at your beloved, Miko embracing you from the back while calming you.

“Miko! What happened???”, you turned your body and cupped his bloodied face as you cried more in concern.

“These are not my blood, Y/N… Some intruders got in our cabin and tried to harass you. I chased them away but with a price due to their maliciousness..”, Miko finished his explanation in such darkness before you looked down to see his arms and shirt had been covered with some stain of blood as you embraced him tightly, your small and slender arms wrapped around his shoulder as you cried solemnly.

“I thought you were killed with that blood. Pl… please tell me you are still here. Please, I’m soo worried for you.”, Miko responded with leaning up to kiss on your side of left forehead to console you as his arms rubbed your back.

“I’m still here and I went outside to ensure your safety.”, hearing that, you leaned slowly to capture his lips softly as Miko eagerly returned as he felt content with comforting you.

He smiled darkly and briefly as he recalled their pleas and their screams as he mutilated three of them and made sure they were left like sausages to be unrecognisable so the police won’t notice anything as the rain cleansed the blood. Seeing your distressed look, he felt guilty and in despair as he never intended to scare you. He just embraced you gently as he carried you to your bed.

“Please don’t do that again, Love. Please. I don’t want anything to harm you.”, you pleaded through the kiss.

“I’m sorry for frightening you but I cannot promise if it’s your life at stake.”, Miko replied as he turned aggressive in the kiss before you shot him a look of horror and shock.

“I’m sorry, Angel.”, Miko slowed his pace before he pulled away. “I got carried away.”

You just embraced him as he cooed softly to soothe you as you slowly drifted to sleep in his arms.

At times, you had a strange vibe from him. Like a very dark and calming wrath resonated inside him at rare times.

It wasn’t obvious like Invincible United FC or Iron Tank FC at times but the calming rage actually frightened you.

While genuinely an altruistic, loyal, sincere, responsible and loving man, you cannot deny Miko had been concealing something. His past trauma.

You prayed that Miko did not become a vengeful person.

The two of you ended up embracing in sleep as Miko firmly wrapped his arms around your waist as his eyes shifted to the window in a dark smile as far of the corner, mutilated bodies had been chopped to meats with kitchen knives being dropped, cleansed his fingerprints and blood.

[magi-marga]

cont. from here @solemnlance​

Mercy, but she does have a lot of questions. Luckily, Spartos is a man of endless patience and a soft spot for little ones.. even if he oftentimes doesn’t quite know how to handle them. He manages to maintain his unflappable demeanor as he considers how best to answer her.

Well, almost.

❝Thank you for the compliment, miss,❞ he murmurs with a bow of his head, a hint of a blush dusting his cheeks. It fades quickly enough as he moves on. (And surely, she doesn’t mean…)

❝I have no relation to the Fanalis. And this–❞ and here, he gestures to his lance, ❝–is a weapon. It is designed to be wielded while mounted, but we can make good use of it on foot as well.❞ He pauses; perhaps he’s being too wordy for a child.

“You’re welcome! I like your hair! I’ve never seen anyone who wears their hair like that before! And I’ve only seen fanalis with hair that red!”

“Oooooo---” She looked at the lance curiously, though she knew better than to touch things identified as weapons without permission. “It looks heavy---is it heavy?” 

[consequor]

@solemnlance​ asked ; Your favourite Ja'far ship.  👀 

Send a ship || Accepting

It’s Sinja which I answered below, so for the sake of answering for something else I just picked randomly out of ships I’ve had in the past. I’m honestly super open to shipping with Ja’far like I’ll consider most things. Like if ur willing to put up with him you can have him lol. So we’re going with Enja bc I’ve rped that and I thought it’d be fun to answer lmaooo

SEND ME A SHIP AND I’LL TELL YOU…

Who’s the cuddler? Neither tbh but Kouen is a ‘hand on your back or waist’ kind of person

Who makes the bed? Both are pretty good with the upkeep

Who wakes up first? They’re both fairly early risers. A lot of the time once one is up the other will be shortly after.

Who has the weird taste in music? Kouen’s the type to put the radio on and not pay any mind to the station. But in general, he’s definitely a history buff podcast type while Ja’far is more into true crime (and offering critique much to the horror of everyone around them)

Who is more protective? Both are protective types and can be violent when the situation arises. Ja’far is more the type who tells you to stay behind while he goes on ahead to fight. Kouen is the type to bodily put you behind him. Kouen is also more outright about it and looks scary.

Who sings in the shower? Neither, they’re both lost in thought

Who cries during movies? Neither they mostly watch documentaries together.

Who spends the most while out shopping? Probably Kouen bc he’s a rich kid but he’s not really excessive about it. But Kouha has made it clear that he shouldn’t be trusted buying his own clothes.

Who kisses more roughly? Kouen

Who is more dominant? Kouen but Ja’far’s not exactly the swooning submissive type.

SMASH or PASS? Smash, I’ve rped this in mostly au settings and despite being antagonistic in canon I think they’d get along decently well being workaholic nerds together.

[xking]

❝ Normally I’d be against this, but I’m okay with it. ❞

                     Akatsuki no Yona sentence starters

                   The jovial king beams a grin that was full of anything but innocents, he was happy to have help in his childish schemes. “You grab the rope, I’ll get the costumes.” Weather or not the other was actually going to participate was another questions. But Sion didn’t really mind either way, so long as he wasn’t outed to his victim. “They is going to be silence and then surprise.” He further explained, already slipping on the boots.  

[watermelonmagi]

Sweet sweet victory. Quiet literally. A small, squishy hand just oh so subtly snags the tasty bits of fruit from the plate to munch on. 

Don't mind a small magi trying to sneak a snack that didn't belong to him. He's a sucker for fruit though----he can't help it.

Doesn't mind. In fact, he makes sure all the juiciest bits are within easy reach. Oh so subtly, of course.

[eternitycyber-a]

@solemnlance Striked the heart for a starter with Elise

Oh my what a wonderfully beautiful palace this was,she wondered what the history behind it was,how did it came to be and most importantly its name.Honestly the young long brown haired woman with ocean blue eyes couldn't wait to find out.

And so she made her way to whatever this place was.

"Hopefully it's going to be worth it."

[obsessivelyloved]

Day 8: Trick

This isn't from any specific prompt list I made it up lol. This is based on @/yanderemommabean ‘s yandere purge au! She doesn’t mind people writing for the au and If you are 18 and older I definitely recommend checking out her blog! She writes great things and I love the stuff she and her followers come up with. However if you’re below 18, don’t check out her blog as she feels uncomfortable with minors following her and will block you.

Sorry for posting so late! I will try my best to catch up. Might make a part two, let me know what you think <3

____________________________________________________

Dear Whoever it may concern,

You have been chosen to participate in this year's Game. As every year, the rules are as follow:

1. Once the sirens have gone off, all help is offline until the 24 hours are up.

2. If you do not leave the hold of your assigned person(s) by the time the 24 hours are up, you cannot leave them.

3. You may harm your assigned person(s) but cannot kill them.

Any violation to these rules will result in investigation from law enforcement. Any questions you may have or would like to read more, please either call (xxx) xxx-xxxx or go to the website.

May you have a wonderful Game this year.

Your hands shake as you hold the paper, reading it over and over again. It doesn’t feel real. The words blur in your mind and you don’t see the paper.

“Oh shit,” you whisper. Tears prickle the corner of your eyes and you take a deep breath.

Two days. All you have is two days to prepare. It’s not enough time. You don’t have enough money to get out of this town, not when the price of plane tickets are no doubt sky rocketing right now as people try to get away. A sob leaves your throat and the dam behind your eyes breaks.

What are you supposed to do? Whoever’s after you could be anyone. It could be the mailman, the cashier at the grocery store, the lady who lives across the street. Anyone. And you have nowhere to go. Your best bet is to pack a bag and book it deep into the forest nearby. God knows who many people will have the same idea as you but hopefully whoever is “assigned” to you won’t guess you’ll be there.

You’ve never been inside, after all. Never even stepped within distance of it. It’s completely out of character for you and with this idea in mind, you crumble the stupid paper and slam it down on your kitchen table.

* * * * * * * *

Your friends find you, the next day, frantically shoving clothes and supplies into a duffel bag. You never hear them come in, never hear their footsteps pause in the kitchen as they no doubt see and read the official paper you got in the mail.

However you do hear your bedroom door hesitantly open and you scream, wielding the kitchen knife you left on your dresser, “The alarms haven’t sounded yet, I will stab you don’t fucking test me!”

Your door slams open, revealing your disheveled state to your friends as they jump back. Your brain takes in the colors of their hoodies and you slump down in relief. Setting the knife back down on the dresser, you go back to yanking things out of your duffel bag and replacing.

“Sorry, you guys scared the shit out of me.”

For a long moment, it’s quiet.

“What’s going on?” Matt asks. He shuffles into your room and the others follow.

You almost don’t want to say the words out loud. It feels damning to finally acknowledge the reality of your situation.

“Got chosen for the game. I need to….” You take a deep breath. “I need to get far away from here.”

“And where will you go?” Tord asks.

You shrug. “Thinkin’ the forrest. Remember that little tree house we built as kids? I’m pretty sure it’s still there. It’s pretty high up so it’s a good place to hunker down until this is all over.”

You don’t want to look at their faces. Any reminder of what tomorrow is makes you want to scream and cry so you try your best not to think about why you’re packing this duffel bag.

A hand rests on your shoulder, thumb gently rubbing circles.

“You could stay with us,” Edd says solemnly. “We’d gladly hide you from whoever is… after you.”

“I couldn’t do that to you guys. I can’t. I don’t want to watch you guys get hurt.”

“We won’t!” Matt protests. “We’re like, super strong. Right guys?”

You can almost hear the way Tord pats Matt’s shoulder and he does tell Matt, “Sure, pretty boy. You tell yourself that.” and to you, “Thomas and I for sure can defend ourselves. You don’t need to worry about anyone hurting us. We promise we’ll protect you.”

Tears fall down your face again and Edd spins you around to crush you in his arms.

“Shhh, it’s okay to be scared. Just come with us. It couldn’t hurt, right?”

You sniffle and pull away, heart wrenching at the hopeful look on Edd’s face. “Yeah. Yeah, it couldn’t hurt. I um, I need to finish packing.”

Each of them gives you a grin, Tom finally speaking up to say, “Take your time, okay? We’ll wait for you in the kitchen.”

They leave your bedroom. None of them turn as they hear you breakdown crying again, very obviously trying to stop yourself. It’s the polite thing to do after all.

And with them out of your sight, you never see them give each other triumphant grins. You’d never even think that they’d do that either. Or think about them taking in your home as they do now, taking note of things to move and come back for. Why would you? They’re your friends. You trust them.

[o-wild-west-wind]

Forever Hold Your Peace - Chapter 1/?

pre-canon, pirate hostage AU (or, Blackbeard inadvertently crashes a wedding)

Summary:

When Stede prays for a way to get out of his imminent marriage, he doesn’t exactly have “hostage by pirates” in mind—but then again, maybe he should’ve been more specific. In which Stede and Mary find that an unexpected wedding crasher may, in fact, grow into a better lover than your actual betrothed.

Rating: M AO3: Chapter 1, 2

*****

Nervous, he had to admit, was an understatement.

Boys were never supposed to dream about their wedding—or else, that was what Stede had grown up always being told. Nigel had said as much, after he’d innocently let his thoughts slip one day in the middle of lunch; it was soft-boiled eggs, he’d remembered, because after they’d been smeared in his face, the yolk had slipped down his cheek and stained his favorite shirt. 

He’d quickly learned never again to wax romantic about a tasteful arch of flowers; and yet, that could never truly quell the fantasies. He’d kept thinking about it, this time in silence, while the other kids were pulling pranks and throwing fists. What finery he might wear, what cut he might like for his ring. How it would feel, that first kiss—to hold the hand of his one true love, oh-so-gentle beneath a wreath of roses.

But only peasants marry for love. That was the next lesson, beat over his head by his father; and despite all his prayers for their money to be mysteriously drained away—a gambling addiction, perhaps, or a tax set too high, or an investment gone wrong—God had other plans. He was doomed, it seemed, to be fortunate.

And that morning, as he stood on the beach with some stranger at his side, he couldn’t help but resent those beautiful dreams. Because how much worse did it feel now, to believe so deeply in what could have been?

He couldn’t begrudge Mary. She seemed nice enough. Maybe, if he was lucky, nice enough to tolerate—and if a miracle struck, perhaps nice enough one day to love. And yet, even if they did learn to love one another years down the line? That meant nothing now, at the hour of his wedding. 

It would not matter, when they had no favorite poem to share. When he would kiss her, kiss for the first, fateful time, and feel absolutely nothing. 

And so as he stood there, heart threatening to beat straight out of his chest, he swallowed down those futile fantasies. Because this was real, now. This was happening, no matter how many prayers for a rescue he had whispered under his breath. And Mary, as apathetic as she also looked—barely making eye contact, grimacing at the faint seaside odors of fish and salt—was going to be his wife. 

No candles. No cakes. 

(And that, he could barely understand—what good was money for, anyway, if you couldn’t even enjoy it?)

“You’re slouching.”

He straightened his neck to the quiet hiss, courtesy of his father (and he was barely slouching, thank you very much—merely looking down at his feet, which wasn’t a crime, last he’d heard). 

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today in the sight of God…”

He swallowed, digging his heel anxiously into the sand. His sentence had begun, and there was nothing he could do about it. 

If only it could be less dull—but no. He’d sworn off those fantasies. 

And anyway, he was sure that he deserved this, even if he couldn’t place why. It was his perfect punishment, after all.

“…to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony, which is commended to be honorable among all men…”

Honorable—sure. Whatever. It was all about the honor, wasn’t it? He squinted into the sky, trying to engross himself in the antics of a gull diving up and down with the current of the wind; at least that was moderately interesting to watch. He followed the horizon line with his eye, suppressing a yawn. It was so cloudy out on the ocean today. Almost foggy, and getting foggier by the second. 

Ah, the ambience…

“…and therefore is not by any to be entered into unadvisedly or lightly, but reverently, discreetly, advisedly and solemnly…”

And what a great start to a marriage this was, to be so openly disobeying God. 

(But maybe, maybe if he used that as a counter—maybe this was his last minute gambit—to argue that this marriage, being entered without reverence, was unholy—nay, a sin—)

“…Into this holy estate these two persons present now come to be joined…”

He blinked. How odd, the fog suddenly looked. Shimmering, dark, as if opening up to an armada on the water. A mirage, perhaps? He turned an inquisitive eye to Mary, who was staring pointedly at the ground. The gull took a lap, and then disappeared as if into a cloud of smoke. 

It was probably just another figment of his mind. The third thing he’d had drilled into him as a child, after all, was that his imagination helped no one—and least of all himself. 

“…If any person can show just cause why they may not be joined together—let them speak now or forever hold their peace.”

Oh—oh. This was his cue. What was it, again, that he’d just rehearsed? What were those words—lightly, solemnly…

He opened his mouth, and then closed it, and then opened it again. And his father, who’d been glaring daggers at him for the better half of the morning, raised a pointed brow. 

He swallowed. Oh, to hell with his dreams, his beautiful dreams. Romance belonged to the peasants. He’d forever hold his peace. 

And for some reason, when the priest next opened his mouth, his words came out as a resounding blast of cannonfire. 

Was that a part of the ceremony? 

By the looks of the priest—who’d thrown his Bible above his head as a shield in a split second—Stede thought not. 

“What the devil—”

His father’s voice was immediately drowned out by another, echoing across the water like some sort of Poseidon. 

Stede swallowed. Oh, hell. God was probably here to smite him, and it was all his fault—

“People of Bridgetown!”

He winced. The booming voice of God was here for all of them, then. And it was his fault, it was all his stupid fault—

“Wait, is this—this is Bridgetown, yeah?”

He opened an eye—since when had he closed his eyes?—and noted that everyone looked just as dazed with panic as he was. His mother, as it seemed, had already fainted. 

He couldn’t help but think it a little odd that God needed reassurance on where he was. But then again, he did probably have a lot on his plate. 

“Whatever. Doesn’t matter. Point is, surrender—or die!”

“Oh, bloody pirate scum…and today, of all days—"

Pirate? Stede turned to his father, who was already brandishing a rock in his fist. Was God a—

Oh. It never was a mirage, was it? Blinking through the fog, it was becoming clearer to see; a true armada of ships, flags and sails and guns. And standing at the helm, a man—no, maybe it was a god—because men did not have hair of smoke, or eyes that glowed. 

And for some reason, he was suddenly overtaken by the strangest feeling: he wasn’t sure if he even minded this malevolent god standing before them. This god had something compelling in his aura, unlike the one watching over their little ceremony today. This god had, for better or for worse, just answered his prayer. 

Horrifying, and yet enigmatically beautiful—he could not bring himself to look away. 

He’d never been so ready to worship a false idol. 

And he was compelling enough, apparently, for Stede only to hear his father’s curses on a delay; compelling enough to take a second too long to see the rock catapulting from his father’s fingers, and clatter pitifully against the hull of the ship. 

Compelling enough not to notice the man at this god’s side raise his gun, and fire a calculated shot only a few feet off from where Stede currently stood. 

He flinched, at least a second late; Mary screamed, to which he screamed in turn; and his father, eyes as angry as ever, suddenly lay motionless on the ground at his feet. 

“Fuck, you weren’t actually supposed to—fucking hell, Iz…whatever. Okay, anyway, uh…yeah. Bridgetown, or wherever the fuck—this is an ambush!”

keep reading

[universestreasures]

solemnlance​:

Spartos feels good about his progress.   He’s blessed to have comrades with wildly incompatible battle styles; sparring never gets old, and the exposure to such a wide variety of techniques guarantees a sharp blade prepared for anything.  He hopes– and really, knows– that they feel the same.

He’s already said his farewells to Sharrkan by the time Pisti calls out to him, the lingering look of satisfaction quickly overtaken by an expression that can best be described as fondness at her excitement.

❝I don’t have anything else I need to do.  It could be fun.  Hm.. perhaps I should clean myself up first,❞ he adds thoughtfully.  It wouldn’t be the first time he’d been to market with sweat still glistening on his skin, but it still felt… impolite, at best.

“Yay! We’re going to have so much fun, Spartos!” The young general speaks, excitement bursting from her form at his accepting of her proposal. Out of anyone on the island, she was closest to Spartos. They both arrived in Sindria at the same time, both relying on each other for company and when they were adjusting to their new home. He was quiet and overly formal. She was loud and laid back, and yet they were the best of friends in her mind. So, a whole day having fun in the market with her closest friend was the best thing Pisti could ask for. 

In fact, it got her so excited she decides to tug at his arm, pointing and attempting to direct him towards the market below. She always had been taught there was no time like the present, her mother often saying to cherish every moment she had. Thus, she wanted to get as much time with Spartos as she could before they both inevitably were torn from each other by official duties or a sudden sea monster attack that could happen at any moment in this country.

“Don’t worry about that, silly! You can go as you are! Back in Artenmyra, we don’t really care bout how you look. Besides, if we go now, we got the best chance of getting all the cool new stuff before the tourists do!”

~

[sindrianknight]

Hello, hello, everyone!  This is a sideblog of @solemnlance so all of my followbacks will come from there.  I’m sorry for the clutter!

[frmartinshomiliesandreflections]

12th December >> Fr. Martin's Gospel Reflection on Matthew 18:12-14 for Tuesday, Second Week of Advent: ‘It is never the will of your Father in heaven that one of these little ones should be lost’.

Tuesday, Second Week of Advent

Gospel (Europe, Africa, New Zealand. Australia)

Matthew 18:12-14

Jesus said to his disciples: ‘Tell me. Suppose a man has a hundred sheep and one of them strays; will he not leave the ninety-nine on the hillside and go in search of the stray? I tell you solemnl, if he finds it, it gives him more joy than do the ninety-nine that did not stray at all. Similarly, it is never the will of your Father in heaven that one of these little ones should be lost.’

Reflections (8)

(i) Tuesday, Second Week of Advent

There is an unusual mixture of images at the end of today’s first reading. Isaiah speaks of the Lord coming with power, almost in the guise of a military leader who triumphs over his enemies. However, this somewhat war-like image immediately gives way to the tender image of a shepherd feeding his flock, gathering lambs in his arms and holding them against his breast, while leading the mother ewes to their rest. Shepherds were not powerful people in that culture. It turns out that the Lord’s power finds expression in tender loving care. It is not the power of domination associated with war, but the power of love associated with protecting the most vulnerable and needy.  Jesus picks up this image of the shepherd in the parable he speaks in the gospel reading. The shepherd’s priority is the most vulnerable member of the flock, the one who has strayed from the others and, so, is without the protection of the flock. The power of Jesus showed itself in the care of the most vulnerable, the sick, the excluded, the spiritually and materially poor. The image of the Lord as shepherd suggests that the Lord is always with us in a life-giving way at those moments of greatest vulnerability in our lives. In the words of Paul, the Lord’s power is made perfect in our weakness. The parable Jesus speaks also announces to us that the most powerful people among the Lord’s disciples are the most caring, those who have an eye and an ear to the most vulnerable, after the Lord’s example.

And/Or

(ii) Tuesday, Second Week of Advent

In the gospel reading Jesus tells a parable about a shepherd who notices when one sheep out of a flock of one hundred goes astray, and who is concerned enough about that one sheep to go searching for it, even though it means leaving the ninety nine unattended. The one, and not just the many, matter to this shepherd. The shepherd is an image of Jesus who is always portrayed in the gospels as engaging not just with crowds but with individuals. In the language of John’s gospel, he is the good shepherd who knows his own by name. The risen Lord relates to us not just as anonymous members of a group but as individuals. He calls each of us by name. In Matthew’s gospel the parable is not just an image of how Jesus relates to us, but also an image of how we are called to relate to each other. We are to call each other by name; we are to respect the uniqueness of each other, relating to one another as unique and irreplaceable images of God. Meeting with one person has potentially as much value as meeting with a large group. The parable suggests that one individual is as deserving of our attention as a gathering of many.

And/Or

(iii) Tuesday, Second Week of Advent

The first reading this morning consists of the opening eleven verses of the book of Second Isaiah, as he is often termed. It is a message of consolation to a people who have endured many years of exile in Babylon. The prophet announces that God will soon act to bring them home. He will behave like a shepherd going out after lambs that have strayed. The reading ends with that very tender image of the shepherd gathering lambs in his arms and holding them against his breast. The gospel reading picks up on the image of God that is found in the first reading, but it also brings it a bit further. The story of the shepherd who leaves the ninety nine to go in search of the one who has strayed is an image of Jesus’ own ministry – not just his ministry while he worked in Galilee, but his ministry today. The shepherd noticed the one who was lost. The Lord notices the one, the individual. He is interested in us as individuals, not just as members of a larger group. He relates to us as individuals; he calls each of us by name; the one is important to him and not just the many. The Lord calls us into community, but his relationship with us is deeply personal. This Advent we are invited to listen more attentively so that we can hear the Lord call our name.

And/Or

(iv) Tuesday, Second Week of Advent

For a shepherd to leave ninety nine sheep on their own and go in search of one lost sheep is to go against all human calculations. It makes little sense to leave ninety nine sheep defenceless in order to go in search of one who has strayed. So often the principal characters in the parables that Jesus tells would not be considered paragons of common sense, like the father who throws a feast for his rebellious son and the vineyard owner who gives the same wages to those who worked for an hour as to those who worked all day. Many of Jesus’ parables are making the point that God’s ways are often not human ways. God does not act according to human calculations of what is reasonable and sensible. When it comes to the weak, the vulnerable, the lost, those who have least going for them, God’s actions can seem extravagant to human calculations. Jesus’ parables call on us to grow more fully into God’s ways, strange as they way seem to human eyes. Today’s parable calls on us to give priority to the one who is most vulnerable and at risk, for whatever reason. It also assures us that ministry to the one is of infinite value; numbers are not always the value in God’s eyes that they can be in ours.

And/Or

(v) Tuesday, Second Week of Advent

In one way the behaviour of the shepherd in this morning’s gospel reading seems a little foolish. He leaves ninety nine sheep on the hillside to go in search of one sheep who has rambled off and is now lost. He leaves ninety nine sheep defenceless to go looking for one. He risks all ninety nine rambling off or being attacked by wolves for the sake of one sheep. The attitude of the shepherd is the opposite to the attitude of the high priest Caiaphas who, in John’s gospel, says, with reference to Jesus, ‘It is better for one man to die for the people than to have the whole nation perish’. In other words, it is better to have one man killed than to put the nation at risk. The one is expendable for the sake of the many. The shepherd in today’s parable certainly was not of that view. In speaking this parable Jesus was presenting the shepherd as an image of God, and an image of Jesus himself. God in Jesus is concerned about the one. The one is of infinite value. The Lord values each one of us; he calls each one of us by name; none of us is expendable in his sight. The Lord is equally devoted to each one of us. The parable calls on us to value each other as much as the Lord values each of us.

And/Or

(vi) Tuesday, Second Week of Advent

There is a very tender image of God in this morning’s first reading. The prophet Isaiah speaks of the Lord as like a shepherd gathering lambs in his arms, holding them against his breast, and leading them to rest. He comes with power, according to that reading, but he expresses his power in a very gentle and life-giving way. There are readings in the Jewish Scriptures that bring us to the threshold of the gospels and this is one of them. Jesus came with power; John the Baptist identified him as ‘the more powerful one’. Yet, he demonstrated his power in that gentle, caring, life-giving way that Isaiah envisages of God. In this morning’s gospel reading, the shepherd in the parable that Jesus speaks is an image of Jesus himself. He leaves the ninety nine on the hillside, with all the risks involved in doing that, in order to go in search of the one who has strayed from the flock. This is the exercise of power that typifies the kingdom of God. The same Shepherd Lord seeks us out whenever we stray from him and from the community of faith, his flock. Even when we may have given up on ourselves or on others, the Lord continues to search for us, until he finds us and leads us home to a share in his rest.

And/Or

(vii) Tuesday, Second Week of Advent

The shepherd in today’s gospel reading seems to act against all human calculations by leaving the ninety nine safe sheep and seeking the one sheep that has strayed. Surely, in seeking out the one who has strayed, he is putting the ninety nine at risk, leaving them to fend for themselves. Yet, in this parable the shepherd reflects the attitude and the action of God and God’s ways are often not our ways, God’s calculations are not like human calculations. The parable suggests that God has a special interest in the vulnerable, those who have wandered from the flock and who in their isolation have left themselves open to being harmed. The first reading from the prophet Isaiah speaks of the Lord coming with power, but his power is that of a loving shepherd who gathers lambs in his arms, holding them against his priest, leading mother ewes to their rest. It is an image of great tenderness. This is the God whom Jesus reveals in his ministry and whom he portrays in this morning’s parable. In the parable, Jesus is also calling on his disciples, on all of us, to have the attitude of the shepherd. We are to have something of the shepherd’s concern for the vulnerable, whether it is the spiritually vulnerable, those who have wandered from the community of believers, or the materially vulnerable, those who are at risk because of their poverty of resources. Pope Francis wants this kind of a church, a church that reveals the tender, loving care of the good shepherd.

And/Or

(viii) Tuesday, Second Week of Advent

The same parable can serve different purposes in different gospels. In Luke’s gospel the parable of the lost sheep is joined to the parable of the lost coin and the lost son or sons. The image of the searching shepherd, the searching woman and searching father reveal the heart of Jesus’ own ministry. He came to seek out and to save the lost. He thereby revealed God’s searching love which seeks out those who have strayed. The parable of the lost sheep we have just heard is taken from Matthew’s gospel. In Matthew, the parable is part of a long discourse of Jesus on life in the community of the church. In that chapter, there is an emphasis on the community’s responsibility to care for ‘the little ones’. The reference here may be to those whose faith is weak or vulnerable or to those who are not highly regarded by the standards of this age. Immediately before the parable of the lost sheep, Jesus issues a strong warning to those who would put a stumbling block before these little ones, who would scandalize them. The parable of the lost sheep, in contrast, calls on the members of the community to seek out the little ones, as a shepherd seeks for his one lost sheep out of a flock of one hundred. In that context, the parable of the lost sheep can be heard as a call to take seriously our responsibility to bring each other to the Lord. We can undermine the faith of others, becoming a stumbling block to them. We can also restore or nurture the faith of others, becoming a devoted shepherd to them, which is an important dimension of our baptismal calling.

Fr. Martin Hogan, Saint John the Baptist Parish, Clontarf, Dublin, D03 AO62, Ireland.

Email: sjtbclontarf@eircom.net or  frmartinhogan@gmail.com

Parish Website: www.stjohnsclontarf.ie  Please join us via our webcam.

Twitter: @SJtBClontarfRC.

Facebook: St John the Baptist RC Parish, Clontarf.

Tumblr: Saint John the Baptist Parish, Clontarf, Dublin.

[romancatholicreflections]

12th December >> Fr. Martin’s Gospel Reflection on Matthew 18:12-14 for Tuesday, Second Week of Advent: ‘It is never the will of your Father in heaven that one of these little ones should be lost’. Tuesday, Second Week of Advent Gospel (Europe, Africa, New Zealand. Australia) Matthew 18:12-14 Jesus said to his disciples: ‘Tell me. Suppose a man has a hundred sheep and one of them strays; will he not leave the ninety-nine on the hillside and go in search of the stray? I tell you solemnl, if he finds it, it gives him more joy than do the ninety-nine that did not stray at all. Similarly, it is never the will of your Father in heaven that one of these little ones should be lost.’ Reflections (8) (i) Tuesday, Second Week of Advent There is an unusual mixture of images at the end of today’s first reading. Isaiah speaks of the Lord coming with power, almost in the guise of a military leader who triumphs over his enemies. However, this somewhat war-like image immediately gives way to the tender image of a shepherd feeding his flock, gathering lambs in his arms and holding them against his breast, while leading the mother ewes to their rest. Shepherds were not powerful people in that culture. It turns out that the Lord’s power finds expression in tender loving care. It is not the power of domination associated with war, but the power of love associated with protecting the most vulnerable and needy. Jesus picks up this image of the shepherd in the parable he speaks in the gospel reading. The shepherd’s priority is the most vulnerable member of the flock, the one who has strayed from the others and, so, is without the protection of the flock. The power of Jesus showed itself in the care of the most vulnerable, the sick, the excluded, the spiritually and materially poor. The image of the Lord as shepherd suggests that the Lord is always with us in a life-giving way at those moments of greatest vulnerability in our lives. In the words of Paul, the Lord’s power is made perfect in our weakness. The parable Jesus speaks also announces to us that the most powerful people among the Lord’s disciples are the most caring, those who have an eye and an ear to the most vulnerable, after the Lord’s example. And/Or (ii) Tuesday, Second Week of Advent In the gospel reading Jesus tells a parable about a shepherd who notices when one sheep out of a flock of one hundred goes astray, and who is concerned enough about that one sheep to go searching for it, even though it means leaving the ninety nine unattended. The one, and not just the many, matter to this shepherd. The shepherd is an image of Jesus who is always portrayed in the gospels as engaging not just with crowds but with individuals. In the language of John’s gospel, he is the good shepherd who knows his own by name. The risen Lord relates to us not just as anonymous members of a group but as individuals. He calls each of us by name. In Matthew’s gospel the parable is not just an image of how Jesus relates to us, but also an image of how we are called to relate to each other. We are to call each other by name; we are to respect the uniqueness of each other, relating to one another as unique and irreplaceable images of God. Meeting with one person has potentially as much value as meeting with a large group. The parable suggests that one individual is as deserving of our attention as a gathering of many. And/Or (iii) Tuesday, Second Week of Advent The first reading this morning consists of the opening eleven verses of the book of Second Isaiah, as he is often termed. It is a message of consolation to a people who have endured many years of exile in Babylon. The prophet announces that God will soon act to bring them home. He will behave like a shepherd going out after lambs that have strayed. The reading ends with that very tender image of the shepherd gathering lambs in his arms and holding them against his breast. The gospel reading picks up on the image of God that is found in the first reading, but it also brings it a bit further. The story of the shepherd who leaves the ninety nine to go in search of the one who has strayed is an image of Jesus’ own ministry – not just his ministry while he worked in Galilee, but his ministry today. The shepherd noticed the one who was lost. The Lord notices the one, the individual. He is interested in us as individuals, not just as members of a larger group. He relates to us as individuals; he calls each of us by name; the one is important to him and not just the many. The Lord calls us into community, but his relationship with us is deeply personal. This Advent we are invited to listen more attentively so that we can hear the Lord call our name. And/Or (iv) Tuesday, Second Week of Advent For a shepherd to leave ninety nine sheep on their own and go in search of one lost sheep is to go against all human calculations. It makes little sense to leave ninety nine sheep defenceless in order to go in search of one who has strayed. So often the principal characters in the parables that Jesus tells would not be considered paragons of common sense, like the father who throws a feast for his rebellious son and the vineyard owner who gives the same wages to those who worked for an hour as to those who worked all day. Many of Jesus’ parables are making the point that God’s ways are often not human ways. God does not act according to human calculations of what is reasonable and sensible. When it comes to the weak, the vulnerable, the lost, those who have least going for them, God’s actions can seem extravagant to human calculations. Jesus’ parables call on us to grow more fully into God’s ways, strange as they way seem to human eyes. Today’s parable calls on us to give priority to the one who is most vulnerable and at risk, for whatever reason. It also assures us that ministry to the one is of infinite value; numbers are not always the value in God’s eyes that they can be in ours. And/Or (v) Tuesday, Second Week of Advent In one way the behaviour of the shepherd in this morning’s gospel reading seems a little foolish. He leaves ninety nine sheep on the hillside to go in search of one sheep who has rambled off and is now lost. He leaves ninety nine sheep defenceless to go looking for one. He risks all ninety nine rambling off or being attacked by wolves for the sake of one sheep. The attitude of the shepherd is the opposite to the attitude of the high priest Caiaphas who, in John’s gospel, says, with reference to Jesus, ‘It is better for one man to die for the people than to have the whole nation perish’. In other words, it is better to have one man killed than to put the nation at risk. The one is expendable for the sake of the many. The shepherd in today’s parable certainly was not of that view. In speaking this parable Jesus was presenting the shepherd as an image of God, and an image of Jesus himself. God in Jesus is concerned about the one. The one is of infinite value. The Lord values each one of us; he calls each one of us by name; none of us is expendable in his sight. The Lord is equally devoted to each one of us. The parable calls on us to value each other as much as the Lord values each of us. And/Or (vi) Tuesday, Second Week of Advent There is a very tender image of God in this morning’s first reading. The prophet Isaiah speaks of the Lord as like a shepherd gathering lambs in his arms, holding them against his breast, and leading them to rest. He comes with power, according to that reading, but he expresses his power in a very gentle and life-giving way. There are readings in the Jewish Scriptures that bring us to the threshold of the gospels and this is one of them. Jesus came with power; John the Baptist identified him as ‘the more powerful one’. Yet, he demonstrated his power in that gentle, caring, life-giving way that Isaiah envisages of God. In this morning’s gospel reading, the shepherd in the parable that Jesus speaks is an image of Jesus himself. He leaves the ninety nine on the hillside, with all the risks involved in doing that, in order to go in search of the one who has strayed from the flock. This is the exercise of power that typifies the kingdom of God. The same Shepherd Lord seeks us out whenever we stray from him and from the community of faith, his flock. Even when we may have given up on ourselves or on others, the Lord continues to search for us, until he finds us and leads us home to a share in his rest. And/Or (vii) Tuesday, Second Week of Advent The shepherd in today’s gospel reading seems to act against all human calculations by leaving the ninety nine safe sheep and seeking the one sheep that has strayed. Surely, in seeking out the one who has strayed, he is putting the ninety nine at risk, leaving them to fend for themselves. Yet, in this parable the shepherd reflects the attitude and the action of God and God’s ways are often not our ways, God’s calculations are not like human calculations. The parable suggests that God has a special interest in the vulnerable, those who have wandered from the flock and who in their isolation have left themselves open to being harmed. The first reading from the prophet Isaiah speaks of the Lord coming with power, but his power is that of a loving shepherd who gathers lambs in his arms, holding them against his priest, leading mother ewes to their rest. It is an image of great tenderness. This is the God whom Jesus reveals in his ministry and whom he portrays in this morning’s parable. In the parable, Jesus is also calling on his disciples, on all of us, to have the attitude of the shepherd. We are to have something of the shepherd’s concern for the vulnerable, whether it is the spiritually vulnerable, those who have wandered from the community of believers, or the materially vulnerable, those who are at risk because of their poverty of resources. Pope Francis wants this kind of a church, a church that reveals the tender, loving care of the good shepherd. And/Or (viii) Tuesday, Second Week of Advent The same parable can serve different purposes in different gospels. In Luke’s gospel the parable of the lost sheep is joined to the parable of the lost coin and the lost son or sons. The image of the searching shepherd, the searching woman and searching father reveal the heart of Jesus’ own ministry. He came to seek out and to save the lost. He thereby revealed God’s searching love which seeks out those who have strayed. The parable of the lost sheep we have just heard is taken from Matthew’s gospel. In Matthew, the parable is part of a long discourse of Jesus on life in the community of the church. In that chapter, there is an emphasis on the community’s responsibility to care for ‘the little ones’. The reference here may be to those whose faith is weak or vulnerable or to those who are not highly regarded by the standards of this age. Immediately before the parable of the lost sheep, Jesus issues a strong warning to those who would put a stumbling block before these little ones, who would scandalize them. The parable of the lost sheep, in contrast, calls on the members of the community to seek out the little ones, as a shepherd seeks for his one lost sheep out of a flock of one hundred. In that context, the parable of the lost sheep can be heard as a call to take seriously our responsibility to bring each other to the Lord. We can undermine the faith of others, becoming a stumbling block to them. We can also restore or nurture the faith of others, becoming a devoted shepherd to them, which is an important dimension of our baptismal calling. Fr. Martin Hogan, Saint John the Baptist Parish, Clontarf, Dublin, D03 AO62, Ireland. Email: sjtbclontarf@eircom.net or frmartinhogan@gmail.com Parish Website: www.stjohnsclontarf.ie Please join us via our webcam. Twitter: @SJtBClontarfRC. Facebook: St John the Baptist RC Parish, Clontarf. Tumblr: Saint John the Baptist Parish, Clontarf, Dublin.

[highseaskxng-a]

happy birthday sinbad // open

@solemnlance​ asked:

"I hope you have a wonderful birthday, Your Majesty." Spartos had put a lot of thought into what to offer as a gift to his king, taking into consideration that Sinbad is already likely in possession of plentiful drink and jewelry. He prefers to err on the side of practicality, anyhow, and so he presents a small box containing an intricately crafted brush and a quality whetstone.

A brush and whetstone, definitely something the young man had put so much thought into. These would prove to keep his metal vessels and weapons at their best qualities. He could tell that Spartos put so much thought into this. Hell, the way Sinbad smiled it was as if a child had gotten sweets. Even the country of Sindria hailed him and had offered gifts but Sinbad made it a point to let the people know that a simple bottle of wine or even liquor was all they had to leave at the palace, or more importantly cards with heartfelt words. He’d spend..days or weeks at a time reading each and every single one of them with his generals because those were truly the gifts from the heart as well. “I can’t thank you enough, Spartos.” The king held his gifts within the box with pride before planting a hand upon the young knight’s shoulder. “However, truly the greatest gift you’ve given me is you friendship and your undying loyalty towards both this country and your home and for that..the debt can never be repaid.”

[archeracrosstime-archive]

@solemnlance​ !!!

She had been tending to her flowers throughout the afternoon, having finished her royal duties much faster than expected. Kagome, in comparison to her husband the king, was always better at managing her time and getting things done. It had not always been that way, but they were skills she learned throughout the time she worked at the Sindria Trading Company that were not translating to her royal duties as the Queen of Sindria. After all, she had to make time to tend to her flowers, the beautiful creations of her love and magic that she cherished ever so deeply.

At the current moment she was sitting under her cherry blossom tree, the woman making sure it had plenty of magic to stay in bloom before sitting underneath it to relax. The pink petals dropped all around her, their petals flowing in the sea air all around her flowers. She had planted a variety of them, ranging from those native to this country and some she had gotten during any travels she had to other lands. They were planted together to create an array of colors that some have said was akin to a rainbow in beauty. The non floral plants, such as the herbs, were kept inside the Pink Taurus Tower while the flowers shined out here for all to see. She took pride in her work, Kagome always happy when she could share it with others. 

And it looks like she might have that chance now as she sees the Sasan general approach, the queen granting him a smile. “Hello there, Spartos. Have you come out here to join me? Relaxation is a key aspect of training, you know. And I’ve been seeing how hard you’ve been training that Household Vessel of yours with your big brother. He is so proud of you, as are all of us. So please, if you have the time join me.”

[xking]

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮?  

righteously evil - Soo-wo

you've been hurt. what you're doing is wrong. there is no doubt. but it's what you need to do. you were not going to roll over and let it just happen. so you did what you had to. and you will continue doing what you had to. when you die, its with fury in your eyes. your opponent says you're stubborn, having kept this up for this long. you laugh, and spit in their face. you curse them until your very last breath.

unwillingly evil - Sion

you were forced. your resolve was broken slowly but surely, and now you're unsure of whether you'll ever get it back. for some reason, you believe that your current position is your fault. it isn't. it's the fault of those who did it to you. and yet you soldier on, facing forwards even as you slowly lose your will to continue. when you die, you're calm. unafraid for the first time in a while. this is the one thing they can't take from you.

tagged by: no one im a thief HA tagging: @raiiju, @solemnlance, && YOU

[universestreasures]

@solemnlance​​ Liked For A Starter From Pisti! (Accepting!)

“Spartos! Hey, Spartos!” The general calls to the other, running like the wind through the entranceway of the palace where her closest friend seemed to be returning from a sparing session with Sharrkan. As soon as she gets to him, she jumps up to grab his shoulder. Pisti’s tiny feet dangle as she uses one hand to hold on and another to point towards the city below, her excitable nature beaming around her as if she were the sun itself. 

“I heard from a little birdie that there are some new things in the marketplace, today! Will you please please please go shopping with me? It will be so much more fun with you there, and then we can get something to eat afterword!” 

~