#i was having thoughts about how much i love the doom and inevitably of prophets (you know everything and can do nothing to stop it) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

i-did-not-mean-to · 3 months

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YOTP - June

It's around @russingon-week after all, I think...

Have some Russingon for your nerves :)

Now with art by @chechula!!! Go give them a follow!

Pairing: Maedhros x Fingon

Prompts: Wedding/Proposal, Saving the world, (accidental) love confession, “You aren’t what I expected”, Downpour, Soulmate AU

Words: 2 510

Warnings: Injury, prophetic dreams, gender confusion, soulmate AU, blood and rain

Nelyafinwë flexed his right hand absent-mindedly—he’d had another highly confusing dream in which a hand that seemed to be his own was pointing wildly at a blurry landscape in the distance.

Even now, hours after waking, he could not shake the gnawing sensation that he knew the outline of the faraway city, nestled at the foot of a mighty mountain, but, no matter how fiercely he frowned, the liberating recognition escaped him stubbornly.

“There you are,” his father exclaimed impatiently upon finding him ambulating under a quiet colonnade. “Your tutor is awaiting you!”

Nelyafinwë looked up, tempted momentarily to ask Fëanáro about the city in his dreams, but he didn’t dare.

Ever since his childhood, his family had owned and inhabited this vast estate. Nelyafinwë had, nevertheless, always been aware that they’d removed themselves from an entirely different, unknown society for reasons his parents adamantly refused to discuss.

He couldn’t shake the sensation that this imposed exile was somehow linked to him, and so he’d done his best to honour his family’s sacrifice by fulfilling his father’s every ambitious project and exaggerated expectation.

He was, Nelyafinwë thought as he ducked into the library, after all the oldest son, and he owed it to his brothers to be the best role model he could possibly be.

With the fanfare of hasty steps and rustling paper started this most fateful of days, looking much like countless ones before, which would end in the inevitable victory of fate over willpower.

In the afternoon, as he took another wistful stroll, Nelyafinwë passed by his father’s study and was struck by the high-pitched trill in his mother’s anxious voice.

His steps faltered for it was not in Nerdanel’s stolid nature to sound so distressed and breathless, not even in the presence of her formidable husband.

“He’s almost reached the age—” she whispered urgently. “Soon…”

“I care nought about the fate of the world,” Fëanáro thundered. “We’ve gone away so far that none even remember him—surely, whatever destiny that hooded, skeletal soothsayer has foretold for my son, shall not come to pass.”

“You have seven sons,” Nerdanel bellowed. “And if the Kingdom, your Kingdom, falls—what is to become of them? I’m afeared, ‘Náro. Can we truly outrun fate once it has been spoken into the world?”

Nelyafinwë did not hear what answer, if any, his esteemed father made to that passionate exclamation, for he was already racing headlong across the atrium towards the gate, desperate to escape the familial country home and lose himself amongst the old groves surrounding their estate.

All his darkest, most torturous suspicions had been confirmed, and he tended to agree with his mother—nobody, not even his father, could circumvent destiny.

The olive trees loomed dark and fertile on a nearby hill, and he plunged into the blessed shadow as fast as his long, toned legs would carry him.

Nobody should witness him as he came to terms with the terrible doom hanging over his helpless head—even a wretched fool had his pride.

Soon, though, he resented himself for his irrational, puerile reaction. He hadn’t even ascertained the nature of the prophecy that had so distressed his parents, and he knew only too well that being aware of the impending danger was ever preferable if one sought to ward it off.

Nevertheless, he was certain that nothing less than unbearable, unacceptable misery could have made his proud father leave his hitherto unmentioned family to hide away in the countryside.

His head was spinning with the devastating answers to old questions and new contradictions; surely, Fëanáro could not be part of the Royal House, could he?

This absurd revelation conjured up a new avalanche of guilt and despair in the young man; if his mother had spoken true, his father would have deserted his duty and deprived the whole family of a luxurious life for the sake of his oldest son alone.

At once, Nelyafinwë understood the deeper meaning of Nerdanel’s harsh words, and his eyes filled with tears of self-loathing and impuissant rage.

“Cry not, little princeling.”

Nelyafinwë looked up sharply upon hearing the ingratiating tone and the mellow voice coming from deep within the shade of the ancient trees.

“Who goes there?” he called, getting back to his feet to meet any intruder or foe head-on.

“I mean you no harm,” the voice resounded once more, followed by the discreet rustling of leaves and crunching of dry earth underfoot.

A moment later, a tall, beautiful stranger appeared, his mouth curled into a friendly smile—Nelyafinwë shivered in vague prescience.

He couldn’t pinpoint the exact matter of contention, but something about that man struck him as odd and eerily uncanny.

“Did you have a falling out with your parents?”

Slowly backing away, Nelyafinwë stared at the long-fingered, broad hand extended towards him as one hypnotised by a snake about to strike.

“You cannot outrun them—you cannot outrun me!” Springing forth suddenly, the stranger grabbed the prince’s shoulders and shook him lightly.

Darkness—asphyxiating and absolute—descended upon Nelyafinwë’s senses, and he fell, insensate, into the waiting embrace of his terrifyingly charming captor.

Visions of his severed hand—pointing now to the sky, now to the dark abyss below his dangling feet—haunted his restless unconsciousness, and he struggled through bone-breaking agony back to the cold, glassy surface of the waking world.

As soon as he opened his eyes, Nelyafinwë understood that, as per usual, his mother had been right—there had never been the slightest chance of escaping his fate.

Thus, he was much less horrified than he should have been when he realised that he was chained to the sheer flank of a small mountain by his treacherous hand.

Somewhere overhead, he thought he could hear someone laughing wildly—Nelyafinwë was far too tired and proud to rile against predestination.

He hung his head and waited.

Findekáno awoke bright and early.

“The time has nearly come,” his mother said mournfully as she slowly poured fresh water from an earthen carafe into his goblet.

“I shall be ready!” he assured her confidently. His bright eyes were drawn to a ridge of faraway hills which separated the city from the remote wilds of the countryside. “I feel the need to travel, alone, to gather my spirits and strengthen my flesh.”

Anairë’s gaze grew soft, and she bent over her beloved firstborn to breathe a devoted kiss onto the crown of braided hair tenderly. “So it shall be then,” she whispered, smiling wistfully.

When she’d been heavy with child, a soothsayer had been brought to her, foretelling great feats of valour and puissance for her yet unborn child, and Anairë had never deemed it necessary to subsequently hide that momentous prophecy from her joyous, optimistic son.

“He shall save the kingdom by his fortitude, and true love shall be granted to him as a boon.”

Even now, as she took a sip of her honeyed wine, she could hear the scratchy, unfathomable voice of the hooded stranger echoing through her weary mind.

Often, she had wondered whether she should have spared Findekáno the terrible knowledge of a vague trial awaiting him, especially upon seeing how single-mindedly and grimly he trained to be prepared for every gruesome eventuality.

“It’s almost time—I can sense it. My dreams have been increasingly troubling as of late,” he confessed under his breath.

“The red-haired maiden with the silver eyes again?” Anairë asked understandingly, yearning to lay her cool hand on the feverish brow of her child as she’d once done through seemingly endless nights of debilitating fear. He’d since grown so strong that she doubted he’d ever need her support and comfort again—the thought pained her, but her gentle smile never wavered.

“I cannot see her clearly,” Findekáno mumbled. “She’s always somewhere very high up, blurred by clouds and mist, and yet I know her.”

He stood abruptly. “Please tell father that I wish him well and kiss my siblings in my stead. I shall return soon. I must go at once!”

“May you be victorious, my darling son,” Anairë sighed as she watched him go. Since the day he’d left the protection of her body, she’d not felt so scared on his behalf, so she lifted her head and squared her shoulders resolutely.

She would not quail in the face of destiny—she’d prepare for her son’s triumphant return.

Findekáno set out without delay, a light pack slung across his back, and made for the distant horizon resolutely.

His mind was still entranced with the blurry vision of a person he’d never met and yet had known all his life—he could not recall when the long-limbed, red-haired stranger had first slipped into his most intimate and intense dreams, but he could not consciously remember her ever not having been part of his hopes and fears either.

Maybe, she’d always been there. Maybe, she was a part of himself. Either way, he was determined to find her, and—if possible—fulfil his mother’s tender hopes by courting her.

By the time he re-emerged from his distracted musings about things that belonged to the realm of potential and phantasms instead of careful planning and saving wisdom, Findekáno had left the city far behind him and was clambering over rocks and down virgin gorges.

Still, his heart did not despond, and so he pressed on indefatigably until he reached a bare, forbidding cliff, its jagged outcrops drawing menacing shadows onto the mossy forest floor.

As he turned his gaze upwards in search of he knew not what, Findekáno saw dark clouds gather ominously, and—a mere moment later—heavy rain started falling like passionate, angry tears from the marred sky.

Through the sudden downpour, he could make out a flash of red, glimmering like a defiant torch behind the curtain of shivering grey.

Momentarily, he considered his trusty bow, but he could not trust his aim in the present meteorological conditions, and he didn’t know how feeble his fated lover would be from her ordeal.

“You always knew that it wouldn’t be that easy,” he chided himself, casting off his pack and weapons and clawing his bare fingers into the slippery face of the wet rock.

The ascent was as perilous as it was arduous, but long years of devoted preparation and stubborn training had made Findekáno far stronger and more resilient than any random, benighted wanderer who might have chanced upon so strange and shocking a sight.

At last, he reached a narrow ledge on which he could stand and rest.

Tilting his face upward, he let his eyes travel along dirty, bare feet and long, shapely calves in captivated speechlessness.

This wretched captive, he knew instinctively, was the person of whom he’d been dreaming his whole life…only, those alluring calves melted into bony knees and seemingly endless thighs.

Impatient by nature, he let his gaze move across narrow hips and a taut, pale stomach hastily until it came to rest, astonished and aghast, on a well-defined but unmistakably flat chest.

Findekáno’s stomach somersaulted and his bleeding, aching fingers went numb; he’d found the love of his life, the person who’d right all the countless wrongs of their realm, the very embodiment of his own elusive fate at long last.

His impervious, bold heart stuttered in his heaving chest. Who was he to question fate? Destiny made no mistakes, and he’d risked too much and come too far to turn back now without at least trying to meet this last exquisite challenge head-on.

“You’re not what I expected,” he blurted out.

“I’m ever so sorry if my impersonation of a deviously beguiled and betrayed abductee is not to your liking,” the other rasped, grey eyes flashing in tandem with the churning sky behind him.

“No, I am sorry,” Findekáno replied courteously. “I…surmised that you’d be a woman, but no matter. I’ve been waiting, hoping, wishing for you. My name is Findekáno.”

“I’d shake your hand, but…” the literal hanger-on smiled sharply. “My name is Nelyafinwë. I’ve learned…was it today? Yesterday? A month ago? I know not…that I was a prince. Before I could fulfil my glorious purpose, though, I found myself…between a rock and a hard place, if you will forgive my grim sense of humour.”

Findekáno nodded feelingly; he’d not brought any crafting tools, and even if he was to climb down again to fetch his bow and his dwindling food supplies, he wasn’t confident that he’d then be better equipped to free what was, in all likelihood, his soulmate.

Already, he felt the eerie but irresistible pull of a power far beyond his understanding or control ensnare every fibre of his being.

Instinctively, he understood that the time of struggle and fight was at an end—he wholeheartedly yielded to the warm chains of a nascent bond taking hold of him and rooting him to the bare rock underfoot.

“Have you come to a conclusion?” he then asked cautiously, ready and willing to follow his fated lover’s wishes and commands.

“The hand has to go,” Nelyafinwë replied dryly. “Unfortunately, I seem to be unable to pull myself up for long enough to gnaw it off.”

Horrified, Findekáno patted his belt. “I have a knife if that is of any use to you?”

Like all people who spent their lives waiting for one very specific event to happen, he was thoroughly overwhelmed and discombobulated by the sheer speed and chaotic violence with which that monumental incident tore through his existence like an avalanche.

Unafraid even in the face of certain devastation, Findekáno straightened in a touching imitation of his mother’s steadfast stance of devoted resolution.

“Hand it over!” Nelyafinwë groaned, stretching out a blood-stained, long-fingered hand.

“Will you marry me?” Findekáno asked, holding the lethal blade out of reach.

He knew not why these words had burst from his lips so uncouthly—he’d always envisioned a long courtship full of peaceful walks and tense repasts in flowering meadows—but he couldn’t deny that it felt right.

Surely, Nelyafinwë also sensed their uncanny link. Didn’t he?

Imprudent and nonsensical as his paroxysm of desperate affection was, he stood firm under the bemused scrutiny of those gorgeous, stormy eyes.

“Is that a proposal? Once I’m out of here, I’ll literally give you my hand in marriage,” Nelyafinwë chuckled darkly.

“Don’t you have to consult your parents?”

“You have no idea how much they’ve hidden from me,” the other commented with an exasperated sigh. “Serves them well. I can’t shake the feeling that this, gruesome as it is, was meant to happen. So, may I have your knife as a token of your suit?”

Surrendering the weapon wordlessly, Findekáno felt his heart soar—he slung his strong arms around the cool, slick legs of his fiancé to steady him and keep him from plummeting to his death as soon as he’d escaped his bonds.

It was wrong, he knew, but—standing on the edge of disaster while blood and rain plastered his tunic to his heaving chest—he was perfectly happy.

Thank you for reading!

-> Masterlist

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7r0773r · 2 years

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Andy Catlett: Early Travels by Wendell Berry

She was being extravagant with the sugar for my sake, as I was more or less aware, and as I took for granted. But knowledge grows with age, and gratitude grows with knowledge. Now I am as grateful to her as I should have been then, and I am troubled with love for her, knowing how she was wrung all her life between her cherished resentments and her fierce affections. A peculiar sorrow hovered about her, and not only for the inevitable losses and griefs of her years; it came also from her settled conviction of the tendency of things to be unsatisfactory, to fail to live up to expectation, to fall short. She was haunted, I think, by the suspicion of a comedown always lurking behind the best appearances. I wonder now if she had ever read Paradise Lost. That poem, with its cosmos of Heaven and Hell and Paradise and the Fallen World, was a presence felt by most of her generation, if only by way of preachers who had read it. Whether or not she had read it for herself, the lostness of Paradise was the prime fact of her world, and she felt it keenly. (pp. 36-37)

***

For my part, I was then not so much superstitious as merely and totally gullible, able to believe without a grain of doubt anything whatever that was told me by anybody older than I was. And my imagination was capable of ratifying the wildest errors and my own most extravagant misunderstandings. (p. 74)

***

When I was behaving myself and out of trouble more or less everywhere, my mother was a refuge to me. She understood the not always manifest quietness I had inside me that made me dislike gatherings and want to be alone. Even when it put her at her wit's end, she understood it. She understood my times of introspection and silence, my susceptibility of being carried away by a book or a thought or something vividly seen in my mind. She encouraged my intermittent bookishness. She approved of what she called my "long thoughts." She was often only amused at my weakness for drifting away from whatever I was supposed to be doing—except when I was supposed to be doing my homework. When I drifted away—mentally or (as I preferred) physically—from that, I "drove her crazy" and made her wonder what was going to become of me. There were times when I sat helplessly not-thinking about my math while she stood over me as helplessly, and perhaps hopelessly too, with a shingle or a switch. At my best, I hope, I deserved her sympathy, for I greatly needed it and took shelter in it. She was, and her memory is, a comfort to me. (p. 79)

***

Increasingly over the last maybe forty years, the thought has come to me that the old world in which our people lived by the work of their hands, close to weather and earth, plants and animals, was the true world; and that the new world of cheap energy and ever cheaper money, honored greed, and dreams of liberation from every restraint, is mostly theater. This new world seems a jumble of scenery and props never quite believable, an economy of fantasies and moods, in which it is hard to remember either the timely world of nature or the eternal world of the prophets and poets. And I fear, I believe I know, that the doom of the older world I knew as a boy will finally afflict the new one that replaced it.

The world I knew as a boy was flawed, surely, but it was substantial and authentic. The households of my grandparents seemed to breathe forth a sense of the real cost and worth of things. Whatever came, came by somebody's work. (p. 93)

***

Time is told by death, who doubts it? But time is always halved—for all we know, it is halved—by the eye blink, the synapse, the immeasurable moment of the present. Time is only the past and maybe the future; the present moment, dividing and connecting them, is eternal. The time of the past is there, somewhat, but only somewhat, to be remembered and examined. We believe that the future is there too, for it keeps arriving, though we know nothing about it. But try to stop the present for your patient scrutiny, or to measure its length with your most advanced chronometer. It exists, so far as I can tell, only as a leak in time, through which, if we are quiet enough, eternity falls upon us and makes its claim. And here I am, an old man, traveling as a child among the dead.

We measure time by its deaths, yes, and by its births. For time is told also by life. As some depart, others come. The hand opened in farewell remains open in welcome. I, who once had grandparents and parents, now have children and grandchildren. Like the flowing river that is yet always present, time that is always going is always coming. And time that is told by death and birth is held and redeemed by love, which is always present. Time, then, is told by love's losses, and by the coming of love, and by love continuing in gratitude for what is lost. It is folded and enfolded and unfolded forever and ever, the love by which the dead are alive and the unborn welcomed into the womb. The great question for the old and the dying, I think, is not if they have loved and been loved enough, but if they have been grateful enough for love received and given, however much. No one who has gratitude is the onliest one. Let us pray to be grateful to the last. (pp. 119-20)

***

It still seemed strange and wonderful to me that the night could pass, so great an event of darkness, and there Port William would be again, just as it was before. (p. 124)

***

I closed the book on that faraway place and sat still to let the familiar house take shape around me again. Presently the clock on the mantel chimed the quarter-hour. Of all the things I loved in that house, I loved that clock maybe the most, for the sound of it signaled the presence of everything else. It played in stately measure a quarter of its tune at a quarter past the hour, half at half past, three-quarters at a quarter till, and the whole again to announce the hour. That tune, when I ring it over in my mind now, calls back into presence the house as it was, all its rooms and furnishings, its sounds and smells. (pp. 124-25)

***

As I watched, it came to me that they were waiting: Granddaddy and Frank Lathrop, each with a son in the army; Grover Gibbs, whose son, Billy, was in the air force; Burley Coulter, whose nephews, Tom and Nathan, had gone off to the army, and who now could hope that Nathan only might return; Jayber Crow, whose calling seems to have been to wait with the others. They were suffering and enduring and waiting, waiting together, joined in their unending game, submitted as the countryside around them was submitted. We had come into the silence that is deeper than any other—the silence of what is yet to come, the silence of one who is waiting for what is yet to come.

And now, as often before, I am reminded how grateful I am to have been there, in that time, with these I have remembered. I was there with them; they remain here with me. For in that little while Port William sank into me, becoming one with the matter and light, and the darkness, of my mind, never again to be far from my thoughts, no matter where I went or what I did. (pp. 139-40)

#wendell berry #book quotes

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bayern-moni · 3 years

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On the scale of 0-10, how much do you want to kick Madara's ass, Mito?

Mito: It goes between 7/10 in normal circumstances to 1000/10 when he purposely behaves like a scassapalle ( = pain in the ass but not quite that exactly).

Sometimes, I do want to kick his ass because it seems to be the only thing able to stop him from being too unnecessarily contrarious just for the sake of it, in a self-(and others)destructive way. Because, sometimes, Madara isn't able to see his own bullshit if nobody points it out to him, but unfortunately the only way Madara'd let himself listen to others' reason is if that person is able to beat it into him.

So be it, I'm fine with it and he is too. We made this deal and that's the start of our friendship, did you know?

So, I don't really want to kick Madara's ass per se, most of the time, even though he IS aggravating more often than what it's healthy. And grumpy, and rude, jumpy, spiteful, unforgiving, paranoid old-born man. Although his discretion, sarcastic spite and no-bullshit attitude can even be useful and entertaining when directed to the right people (and when you know how to channel him into them to prevent him from spiraling into even more twisted dramatics than those you're trying to run from). The point I'm trying to make is: you learn to handle a fight-or-fight, cornered and blunt cat and you'll know how to deal with Madara. So, I managed to reach a mutually respectful relationship with him, in spite of everything, because when he's not being ... well, himself, he's a very intelligent man and I enjoy our conversations. Although I really did want to kick his ass when I had no choice but to seal the Kyuubi into myself to help Hashirama in the Valley of the End. Because, only because HE thought that bringing a fucking Bijou at the edge of the village in order to fight Hashirama was a good idea, it does not mean that it is one. It wasn't. Not in the least, it was unnecessary and dramatic, even by his standards. I made peace with the fact I'm the first jinchuriki in Konoha early, so it's less of a big deal than it could have been, but still.

Paradoxically, I have to admit that the moments when I find him most annoying are those when he isn't even there. I'm talking about my own husband's apparent obsession with him and the (too many, if you ask me) times he just can't seem to be able to shut up about him. He told me the river story so many times I'm sure I could recite it in my sleep. I'm starting to feel like I'll be better off asking for a divorce and leave Hashirama to him out of spite. I'm sure my sanity would thank me if I did, but unfortunately I love Hashirama very much so I won't. Madara'd send him back to me within a day when the urge to strangle him for his overbearing attitude becomes too much, anyway, so it wouldn't even be a problem. In fact complaining about Hashirama's obnoxious antics with Madara is always funny, when I hear of people thinking that Hashi is a cause of contention/dislike between us I think it's just plain stupid, it's not like that at all. I know that Hashirama loves me, like he loves his brother, even Madara in a sense as well as the village.

But sometimes I feel as if all the years he spent associating his idea of peace with the alliance with the Uchiha, consequently his unwavering conviction that the only way he could achieve both was to necessarily bind Madara, the Uchiha clanhead, back to their old bond whatever it took (because it wasn't broken it was still there no matter what anyone thought it still was a gift from the divine) made him come to unconsciously link in his mind the very village's hopes of stability with Madara's own very ill-balanced stability and good will towards it.

In Hashirama's world, if Madara is pacified and he doesn't disrupt the village's armony for any reason, then the village will be fine, but the opposite is also true. Village is peace, peace is the dream, the village is the(ir?) dream (transitive property is the key here), but there's a sour, dissonant note: that's a very dangerous, unstable line of thinking, for all of us, himself and Madara included.

Because, differently from what Hashirama thinks, in Madara's vision, himself and that dream no longer coincide since when their bond was severed and it awakened his Sharingan at the river as a consequence. Their very definitions of that dream differed at the root. The mechanism stopped working, the gears need to be rearranged, not to be seen as the same as before, in order to keep working together. He's not the same as when they were little anymore and it isn't even only about Izuna's death but Madara himself. In fact it started before that, Izuna's death is one of the aggravating factors, not the trigger. Hashirama deep down knows it but he vehemently insists on ignoring it with all his might and that's what is deepening the fracture between them.

Hashirama refuses to see Madara for what he is but he wants to see only the kid he met at the river, because that kid is the one who gave Hashirama the confidence that his dream was possible. He still, genuinely, stubbornly believes that that kid still exists somewhere, because he must exist, because if Madara still believes in their village and keeps on giving him that confidence (that is, if Madara still behaves with Hashirama like that kid would, even while slowly breaking beyond repair on the inside), then eventually all will be fine and everything will adjust itself given enough time and hope. But when he doesn't, Hashirama becomes nearly paranoid and desperately tries whatever he can think of in the hope of tying Madara to their dream of the village again, this time possibly forever and indefinitely: calling him his brother (as if for Madara their real brothers weren't the only real bond while theirs is a breaking thread next to a fine but now forever severed cloth); nudging him to see Konoha villagers as they were his new family now that he lost his own (well knowing what kind of visceral bond that'd be if it were completed given that Madara is involved); giving him hope that he could be Hokage, a hope Hashirama didn't know it'd be crushed and burned to the roots by such a public humiliation. The worst part is that Hashirama doesn't even seem to be aware of half of these psychological issues of his. However, that's the person Hashirama sees, not the real Madara, never his adult, despairing, fierce-but-borderline-suicidal version. And Madara knows it, he resents it and will keep to silently poison himself with that knowledge in total, stubborn solitude until it will inevitably make him rot to the bone and erase the rest of the world with him. All of this while seeing all the underlying not-yet-born-but-still-there faults in the village's very system and Hashirama's rule! But, instead of just saying it so we can try to limit the damage, he just keeps them for himself as the indisputable proof of how the whole system is doomed to failure. To be honest, I do know why he doesn't talk, though, and that's because nobody'd listen to what is only considered an unstable, belligerent madman's apocalyptic words, no matter how prophetic they'll reveal themselves to be in the years. These are still other big reasons why I want to kick his ass, though, and I suspect that he knows. Count another reason, then.

They are just... Ahrg. Just talk, guys, like the mature people you ARE supposed to be but will never be. You understand that I'm in the middle of that, don't you? It gives me a massive headache on a good day and lately more often than not they make it a shitty day. I'm tired of constantly having to listen to Hashirama complaining about Madara this, Madara that, just because they're not sincere enough to just TALK and settle their differences within the limits of what it's actually possible, and because they don't talk about it (and when they do it seems like they are threading through two or three different discourses at the same time that nothing have to do with the problem at hand) they will never understand each other like they clearly need to and then we have to solve all the problems their bullshit leaves behind.

I'm not saying that they could resolve those problems by just talking, because they are too big for only the two of them and they often involve how something like world peace should be achieved. So, you understand why they'll never see eye to eye on that. But talking could be a start.

Mine feels like a full-time, underpaid and overly frustrating, babysitting job. Sometimes, I just want to kick both of their asses for being purposely (Madara) and unconsciously (Hashirama) difficult.

Sorry for my ramblings, but as a woman, a kunoichi and a wife I needed to vent a bit and too few people ask for my opinion nowadays, our self-appointed author first and foremost.

P. S.: I do want to kick his ass when he steals my hairpins out of spite after I have beaten him and Tobirama at shogi. 8/10, then.

For @dinainwater

It definitely got out of hand in the end 🤣 Rambling has always been a problem for me and rarely I manage to actually restrain myself, but I promise eventual next answers won't be this long. So, I hope it hasn't bored you (?) 😅. But I felt like Mito needed to make her opinion matter, so it was worth!

(If the reasoning explained above seemed twisted and unnecessarily difficult, it's because those two have a deeply unhealthy relationship)

However, thank you for your ask like always and I hope you enjoyed it 😁 whatever other question is always welcomed, don't worry 😊

#naruto shippuden #character meme #mito #mito uzumaki #madara uchiha #hashirama senju #tobirama senju #ask #ask me anything

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crispyliza · 4 years

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Spamano multi-chapter fanfiction recommendation masterlist!

For all you home-quarantined people that have nothing to do and also because I’ve been meaning on making one of these since 2015 (took a global pandemic to get me started lol)

These fanfics are all with multiple chapters and listed in no particular order. Of course some are better than others, but every single one has its charms! I added only a few with 3 or 4 chapters because i liked them too much not to whereas the rest of the fanfics have at least 5+ chapters. So without further ado, here they are:

Una Notte A Napoli “One night in Naples, by the moon and sea, my heart was stolen by an angel who had forgotten how to fly.” (completed)

Per Sempre Tuo “Lovino Vargas, better known as Romano, is a famous TV actor. He has everything anyone could ever want. The only problem is that the thing he wants, over-night singing sensation Antonio Fernandez, is married.” (completed)

HOVA “The Nova Sagittarius was a ship that would take myself and countless other passengers on a one month trip around our solar system. But things went wrong; the ship changed and just like that, we were stranded. We got to know each other but more than that, we got to know ourselves.” (completed)

What We’d Do Without Gravity “While lost in a hospital Antonio comes across young terminally ill patient, Lovino Vargas. With Lovino left only six months to live it’s an awful time a romance to blossom between the ill fated pair, but with a bucket list to race through as the clock ticks down, the two find that love is very hard to avoid.” (completed)

Numbered Lithograph “When Lovino starts attending art school with his brother he finds his most important lesson doesn’t come from his professors, but from a culinary student at a sister school: sometimes the flaws hold the beauty.” (completed)

Tienimi Streto “Lovino Vargas is a detective with a poor attitude and a dark past, driven to the side of law by pain and revenge. After his partner quits, he is paired with specially recruited Antonio Carriedo, who becomes something more than just a co-worker. When deaths linked to the Italian start popping up over the city, Lovino begins to question everything he thought he knew.” (on-going)

More than attraction “Antonio says he met his love’s eyes over the bin of tomatoes. Lovino says he was stalked relentlessly until he was forced to give in.” (completed)

Credo “AU, 1502. Fueled by revenge, Lovino Vargas hasn’t failed an assassination job yet - but when a new Spanish captain comes to Rome, killing the unorthodox Antonio Carriedo might just be the death of him.” (completed)

Secret Tunnels from Madrid to Sicily “When Antonio Fernández Carriedo begins work as a professor at a prestigious university in Britain, one of his students, a Sicilian boy who goes by the name Romano, immediately catches his eye. He is a clearly gifted writer, who closes himself off in the wake of a dark and painful history. Even wrapped in his darkness, pushing everyone away, Toni finds himself determined to bring out the potential within Romano…They drag each other into a passionate, inevitable affair–doomed, they know, to end in flames.” (completed)

Why Did it Have to be You? “Lovino’s parents are tired of his horrible behavior, and hire Antonio to babysit him. But time is a cruel mistress, and in absence the heart grows fonder. These are just some of the things Antonio and Lovino will learn.” (completed)

And the Birds Sing No More “Don’t ever leave me.” Lovino said nothing. He allowed the tense heaviness to settle among his shoulders, tighten his lungs, and spread between the space from where he stood to where Antonio was seated lethargically. Antonio’s gaze sharpened. Lovino, inclining his head slightly, whispered, “I won’t.” (completed)

A Dancing Star “Antonio is the easy-going, life-loving art professor and Lovino is the Italian exchange student who walks into his art studio. When Antonio falls in love he thought he only had his job to worry about, but maybe it’s Lovino’s dark secret that’ll push him away. Trigger warning for self-harm and dark themes.” (completed)

Kismet “Lovino learns the hard way that things change and that they can change quickly. The necklace fell and now he’s in a strange land far from home. Will he ever see his brother again? Will he find his way home? Or will he discover home is where the heart is? Fate is a strange woman and can work in mysterious ways.” (completed)

Let that be enough “Lovino had given up hoping for someone who’d care about him. Antonio never expected to fall for the most tormented guy in town. But dark secrets and hidden dangers threatens their blooming relationship. Is it over before it even begun..?” (completed)

Child services “Romano and Feliciano Vargas have just lost their parents. Romano, who is 22, must care for his 6 year old little brother. Enter Antonio Carreido, the agent from Child Services who must record his progress, however, it’s hard for the cheerful Spaniard to keep from falling in love with this little broken down family and with Romano.” (on-going)

Loving a Stranger “You don’t remember, but I know you. We were- I don’t even know how to describe our relationship. That sounds bad, I know. I think you might have been in love with me, although I cannot see why. That’s just what I’ve been told. I acted as though I hated you, but I never did. I was afraid, because you were kind to me. I didn’t know I loved you until you forgot me…“ (completed)

The Many Personalities of Spain “England casts a spell to rid himself of Spain. As expected it goes wrong; leaving Romano to deal with the many personalities of Spain. That sounds like a normal day for Romano, right? It would be if the personalities not had their own personifications.” (on-going)

Daisy Genocide “My name is Lovino Vargas but that’s not who I actually am. I’m my brother. They put his DNA into a little ball of jello and grew me like a house plant. To say it blatantly, I’m a clone and I’m in a disturbing amount of trouble. I’m about to tell the story of my fight to preserve my humanity followed by a vicious history of crime but it’s a secret. Nobody has to know.” (completed)

More Than Meets The Eye “Striving to find approval and meaning, Antonio throws himself into the world of art determined to come out on top. Yet, in all of his searching, burning, and pain, he never thought that a single culinary student could ever manage to tear down his walls and make him face his biggest fear; himself.” (on-going)

Cryonic “After suffering a fatal attack from an unknown illness, Lovino Vargas underwent cryopreservation, leaving behind his only family, his boyfriend, and a blooming company. Years later the effects are only just coming into play causing more problems than his preservation was supposed to solve. Human AU; T for language; pre-established Spamano.” (on-going)

All of Our Flaws “Antonio is a man whose world revolves around anyone but himself. Lovino is a man with dreams bigger than a job behind a drugstore counter. Antonio is broken; Lovino is incomplete. Will a chance meeting lead them to mending their cracks and finding their missing pieces? Human AU, trigger warning for self-harm.” (on-going)

Truly an artist “Having already completed college, Lovino Vargas lives in Madrid as an artist suffering from severe artist’s block. In one of his visits to his old school he runs into a new teacher, Antonio Fernández Carriedo, who decides he’ll be the one to help Lovino in his endeavor to find himself. However cheerful and optimistic, Lovino still feels there’s more to Antonio than he’s letting on.” (completed)

The Heartbreaker “Sometimes the best things happen unexpectedly. Certainly this is Antonio’s opinion at the moment. The handsome stranger he met upon moving to a new town in Italy seems to be able to do almost no wrong. Until he digs a little deeper below the surface and begins to discover an unsettling reputation. And if the rumours are true, is it wise to trust a man known as ‘The Heartbreaker?” (completed)

We sing, We dance, We eat tomatoes “When Lovino Vargas takes in a starving guitar player called the Curbside Prophet from the streets of Philadelphia, he isn’t expecting the man to tolerate him for more than a couple weeks, much less fall in love with him. Based on the the music by Jason Mraz.” (on-going)

Underwater Land “Antonio was a merman. Lovino hated water. It was truly a match made in heaven.” (completed)

Flashlight “If I throw a tomato at you, vampire bastard, will you still sparkle under the sauce?” Twilight parody. (completed)

Catch you, Catch me “Clumsy, clueless detective Romano is on the trail of the infamous handsome and charming thief El Apasionado Caballero. But there’s more to this, what seems like a simple game of cat and mouse, than meets the eye.” (completed)

Blackbird “Antonio walks into a small coffee joint, hoping for just some caffeine to take the edge off of late-night studying for midterms, and gets a whole lot more than he bargained for in the form of a snarky, foulmouthed, Italian barista.” (on-going)

Counting Stars “Antonio, failed writer and journalist, thinks things are finally going his way when he lands an interview with actor Lovino Vargas. But it’s only the start of a long line of problems… the biggest of which may be Vargas himself.” (on-going)

Cosa Nostra “Based on the historical background of the Sicilian Mafia during the First Mafia War starring Mafia!Romano.” (completed)

Tight Rope “Rich, spoiled kid Lovino Vargas hates pirates. Pirate captain Antonio Carriedo hates rich, spoiled kids. None of them ever thought they could feel something different from hatred towards one another. However, Fate seems to have different plans for them, and twists their lives in unexpected ways.” (on-going)

When You Recover “Nurse Lovino Vargas has to take care of brain damaged patient Antonio Carriedo, who seems to have a strange affection towards him. N-not that Lovino likes it! The Italian is determined to make the man recover, no matter what it takes. What will little Lovino get himself into with this patient?” (on-going)

Like All Things, It Ends “Lovino doesn’t want his family to know how much his childhood trauma still affects him and he does a good job at hiding it. That is, until he moves to a new town and meets Antonio, someone he is unable to hide anything from. (Warnings for PTSD, Depression, harmful thinking of oneself, and violent death of a loved one)” (completed)

Wish upon a star “A drunken wish on a star lands Lovino back in the time of pirates, and when he runs into a familiar face with an unfamiliar personality, he’ll start to question his own heart. Pirate!SpainxRomano. Rated for language, violence, and maybe mature situation” (completed)

Crooked Timber “As an artist, Lovino understands that perfection doesn’t exist. If only Antonio agreed with him, and stopped trying to hurt himself. -Human (College) AU. Spamano multi-chapter with other minor pairings. Depressed!Antonio, Writer!Antonio, Artist!Lovino- TW for self-harm.” (completed)

Just Pretend! “Romano liked Emma- a lot. Except her stupid big brother was too overprotective (and, okay, a little scary)! He wouldn’t allow any guy near her- unless they weren’t romantically interested in Emma. So, Romano decided to pretend to be gay, with the help of Antonio, in hopes of getting Emma to fall in love with him. Perfect plan, right?” (completed)

The Duty of an Elder Son “Lovino Vargas knew a lot about duty.” His Grandfather’s swollen empire puts all of his family in danger, the other gangs are massing, the police are on their tails and Lovino is given a bodyguard in one Antonio Carriedo. 1920s Mafia AU fic. (completed)

Flatmates “They were flatmates, they were best friends and they were really frustrated about relationships. So what would two young men do about this?” (completed)

Zero Tolerance “Lovino lives a perfect life. Or atleast thats how he is suppose to appear. Antonio lives a life as a dangerous gangbanger. North Side meets South Side as these two are partnered in their Chemistry class. But there is one chemical reaction these 2 arent prepared for- Love. AU, human names used. Based on the book “Perfect Chemistry” by Simone Elkeles.” (completed)

Your Love Can Be My SIght “Seventeen year old Lovino Vargas lost his sight in a terrible car accident. Antonio, a teacher at Lovino’s school was born without it. Can Antonio teach Lovino that even without sight, life can be beautiful?” (completed)

The Greatest Treasure, You Idiot! “Spinoff of the “Sea Foam” chapter in Hetalia Fairy Tales. Captain Carriedo of the pirate ship, Buscador Dorado, seeks a legendary treasure “that is worth gaining” with the help of the infamous wish-giver, Lovino. But what is the true treasure?” (completed)

Crowns of Triple Gold “Things are rarely simple for Romano in the Eternal City, especially when he falls for one of his clients, a Hispanian senator up for consul against his father.” (completed)

Prisoners on the Slave Ship of Love “Lovino Vargas has been captured and taken hostage in a pirate raid led by Captain Antonio Fernandez Carriedo and his band of Spanish buccaneers. Tensions grow high and hearts are tested when Lovino becomes Captain Carriedo’s personal prisoner…” (on-going)

The Lemon Tree “Lovino didn’t want to be a slave in that scary mansion. He needed to break free. The fight for independence, however, is a difficult path, and falling in love with the man that destroyed his life doesn’t make things any easier.” (completed)

Sun Kissed “A powerful man once created gods to rule the sky as the creatures of the land lives. The Sun and the Moon. Brothers since birth, and all powerful, they rule side by side. As time passes, the Sun realizes how unhappy he is watching people hide from him. What happens when he discovers a man who isn’t afraid to live under the harsh sun?” (completed)

Tesoro Mio “Antonio’s the charming, handsome farmer with an infuriating Spanish accent, and Lovino is the mysterious wine entrepreneur who comes and goes. When Antonio falls in love, he throws society, expectations, and religion to the wayside, but can a strict Catholic like Lovino do the same?” (completed)

Because of the war “A first person POV for Romano during and after WW2. His thoughts as he fights and survives. Beware of angst.” (completed)

Just Add one Mermaid’s Tear “To gain something of ultimate value; the unthinkable must be preformed. The line is etched upon the brow of every nation, the taste of the water still on their lips. What happens though when one nation desires the fountain of youth once more?” (completed)

Until the Moss Had Reached Our Lips, and Covered Up Our Names “In a city filled to the brim with gangs, all the territory split between them, peace has lasted for the past sixteen years. It’s a tentative peace, won after the last massive gang war reshaped the entire city. Except all it takes is one domino to fall, and the Vargas patriarch is dead, leaving behind Antonio to lead his house, who isn’t even his blood relative. With an untried Head, the balance of power has started to shift again, and it seems as good a time as any to start calling in old debts and revenges.” (on-going)

The Bet “When someone kisses you, and then moves away you’d think that would be it. But when Antonio comes back from Spain he wants Lovino to be his again. Except Lovino now hates Antonio…which sucks for Lovino because Antonio isn’t going to let go that easily.” (completed)

Wings “People ask me a lot why I love him. Why I spend so much time chasing him when he never returns my feelings. It’s because I see something they don’t.” (on-going)

My Heart is Drenched in Wine “Wine and romance. More importantly, when you cut through my wine!fangirling, this is a story about Lovino and Antonio and how they find their way back together (in spite of the past and occasionally the present) as they attempt to make wine and sometimes love.” (completed)

Of Two Minds “Feliciano and Lovino are living on the streets, with a secret that keeps them from getting close to anyone. Will their lives get better or worse after being forced to join a pirate crew, and what will happen when their secret finally comes out? Rated T for some (minor) violence, Romano’s mouth, and some angsty feelings. Pirate AU.” (completed)

Beats of Fever “Antonio Fernández Carriedo is a doctor working in Madrid dealing with a crush on an Italian tourist when the tensions in Spain reach a head and Civil War breaks out.” (on-going)

All of Our Sins “Lovino is Catholic, but he’s not entirely sure what he believes. Nevertheless, he and his brother Feliciano are forced to attend confirmation classes. When Lovino meets their group leader- bizarre, cheerful Antonio; one of the first people to treat Lovino like he matters- things get complicated. When they find this church is much darker than it appears, things get terrifying. Fast.” (completed)

Es Sólo Tu Corazón “Lovino has been in love with Spain for as long as he can remember. All he wants is to be with his former caretaker, but he soon finds out that the Spain he knew as a child is no longer there…and the real one is far more dangerous.” (on-going)

There Goes My Life “Antonio, 26, a old gourmet chef, a bachelor who’s all party. Lovino a 20 y/o premed student who only has one goal, to be become a doctor. He is determined to let his feelings for the Spaniard fade away, but after receiving devastating news, a drunken one night stand leads to the end of life as Lovino knows it.” (on-going)

As We Were “Rich, bored and unhappy, Lovino Vargas is the heir to his grandfather’s wine brand. Antonio is the restless young traveller prone to attacks of claustrophobia. For them, falling in love is a journey. Literally. Spamano, Human AU, multi-chapter. Warnings for language and sexual themes.” (completed)

NekoRoma “Antonio has been feeling lonely with his recent break up with his on/off boyfriend. The solution: a new kitten that his boss doesn’t want. Just as he gets used to this cat, a new challenge is thrown at him. How do you teach a cat to be human?” (completed)

Summer Sensations “The hot summer nights of Madrid bring many things, but one very special night changes two lives forever. Lovino learns that love is not such a frivolous thing after all.” (completed)

Fools Like Us “What starts out as a normal Friday night for the “Bad Touch Trio” soon becomes an opportunity for Francis to use his favorite word in reference to his best friends. Unfortunately, Gilbert and Antonio couldn’t possibly have fallen for people who would return their feelings easily, but Francis is determined to help them out despite his own relationship-or lack thereof.” (completed)

Hear Me “Antonio and Lovino are trying their best to get by in high school, but between the stresses of grades, family, friends, and heartache, it’s a lot harder than it looks.” (completed)

Fame and Fortune “Lovino Vargas is a barkeeper and reluctant Stasi informant. As much as he despises what he does, he obeys the terrifying Red Army colonel, Ivan Braginsky. That is, until the secretive and frustratingly attractive Antonio Fernandez Carriedo arrives in his life and breaks all the rules. Inspired by the Elvis Presley song of the same name.” (on-going)

It’s all Antonio’s Fault “Condoms, footballs to the stomach, fake nurses, confusing hallways, and flying backpacks. Lovino Vargas’s first day at World Academy was already one of his worst, and he could only imagine that it would spiral downwards as he got to know the tomato bastard, otherwise known as Antonio Fernandez Carriedo.” (on-going)

My Antonio “Going against everything in his strict, Catholic upbringing, Lovino has fallen desperately into love and lust for his family’s Spanish stable boy, Antonio.” (completed)

Sound Life “Spain is dead, leaving Romano distraught and wishing for there to be a way for him to see his beloved Spaniard alive and healthy…Only to wake up in a strange alternate world… with another Spain seeking his affection.” (completed)

Possessively Scary “Romano begins college late with his brother after their nonno passes away. When entering, he meets a very strange Spaniard. The man is odd but still attractive at the same time. As they get closer, Romano learns more about Antonio and doesn’t know if he should be scared of the man or not. Can he get out of something he got himself into?” (on-going)

This Dance “Antonio wants Lovino to be his dancepartner at Austria’s ball. Lovino, struggling with his growing feelings of love and affection for everyone’s favorite tomato-bastard as always, agrees. Now, there could be worse things, right?” (completed)

Powdered Sugar “Truth, like powdered sugar, tastes sweet but goes down cold. If a spoonful of sugar makes the medicine go down, we might need a bit more.” (completed)

Singles “Antonio, Francis, and Gilbert are three friends who suffered their first heartbreaks at the age of fifteen, and made a pact to never fall in love again. That will change for Antonio when he first lays eyes on a brown-haired young man in a club…” (completed)

A Heated Story “Sky High / superpower hs au. wip. Lovino Vargas is a new kid at Sky High with his brother. He has the power to control fire. Only one problem, he hates the heat. Spamano, and other ships. Doesn’t actually have anything to do with the movie, just used the school.” (on-going)

I Don’t Hate You “Lovino and his brothers face the unknown while on a mission to Earth. The Italian angel comes up against more than he bargained for when a dark angel takes a liking to him and now he and Feliciano might be cast out.” (completed)

Like all things, it ends “Lovino doesn’t want his family to know how much his childhood trauma still affects him and he does a good job at hiding it. That is, until he moves to a new town and meets Antonio, someone he is unable to hide anything from.” (completed)

Disegno e Colore “A young, apprenticing artist, Lovino craves rationality, perfection, and self-possession, and has curated his life to one day attain that. He never expected a chaotic and brash painter to barrel into his life and test everything Lovino thought he wanted and knew of himself, his art, and his heart.” (on going)

Land Beyond Dreams “Antonio is saved from death by someone he’d spoken to only a few times, but who lost his life in the process. Grief-stricken, he only wishes he could have gotten to know his savior, when his dreams suddenly become reality…or are they still only dreams?” (completed)

It’s All Antonio’s Fault “Condoms, footballs to the stomach, fake nurses, confusing hallways, and flying backpacks. Lovino Vargas’s first day at World Academy was already one of his worst, and he could only imagine that it would spiral downwards as he got to know the tomato bastard, otherwise known as Antonio Fernandez Carriedo.” (on-going)

A tale of endurance “Lovino had no idea what to do. Knowing that your life will be over in half a year tends to do that to you. Well, one thing he knew for sure. No one would ever discover this until the day he was pushing daisies. And that was a fact.” (completed)

The Risk of Love “Romano is dead and Spain is broken, spiralling into the deep, blackness of depression. And as he locks himself from the outside world, isolating himself from his friends, from everyone, in his oblivion of pain, Romano find’s he’s the only one who can help. Only, how can useless ghost like him even dream to help the slowly dying love of his life?” (completed)

Dance with me “Lovino Vargas started taking tango lessons completely by accident. Who would have thought that one day he wouldn’t mind those hands roaming over his body? That he would be dancing with his teacher as if there was no one in the room but the two of them?” (on-going)

Fireflies “Lovino was abandoned in Italy with his grandfather at age seven because his parents liked his little brother better than they liked him. On his way back from America, he sits next to a far too happy Spaniard. But, when this childish Spaniard turns out to be his new teacher, what will happen? And with a field trip to Venice on the way, what antics will they get up to?” (on-going)

El Corazón del Pirata “Fate is once kind, twice cruel. And Captain Antonio Fernandez Carriedo does not have a heart, nor does he fall in love with his prisoners. But Lovino Vargas might just be the fuel to his flame - certainly there’s more to him than meets the eye.” (completed)

More Than Lust “Why did the Spaniard always hope for the impossible? That Romano would come to him one day, confessing his feelings, and they would make LOVE? That they would cry out each others names, he could hold the Italian, wake up the next morning, and he would still be there?” (completed)

The Prince and the Pauper “When Prince Feliciano goes missing, it is up to a poor servant boy Romano to step in to take his place and thwart an evil plan to take over the kingdom. However, falling in love was something neither one anticipated. Based off of the Princess and the Pauper.” (completed)

Talking to My Shadow “Lovino spends his life telling doctors about his brother, Feliciano. They hear about his look-alike brother everyday but never see him. Lovino is finally taken to a new physiologist and he meets the doctor’s son, a springy little Spaniard who’s excited to help his new friend, no matter the difficulty. Will this illness mean a life time of seclusion for Lovino or can he win?” (completed)

Spend my time dancing “As much as Lovino loved seeing the upperclassman in his soccer jersey, he’d much rather help him take it off. It’s about time they started playing on the same field. AU. SpaMano. Various others. All’s fair in love and soccer.” (completed)

Maybe, Just Maybe “Romano couldn’t help but be instantly attracted to the stranger on the train, the one with bright green eyes and an unforgettable smile. How could something so simple end up changing his life so much?” (completed)

Dead Alone “Lovino drains the life from anything he touches, seriously. It seems that he’s the embodiment of death while his lively twin brother is his counterpart life. He has isolated himself from everyone, for their own protection. So what happens when a new transfer student decides to take an interest in him his freshman year of high school?” (on-going)

Lovino and the Conquistador “Lovino lived a life of simple pleasures; a good book, his own little world and an odd, but loving, family. However, in order to save his family, he must take their place as prisoner of a hideous beast within a gloomy castle. Based on “Beauty and the Beast” (completed)

Truth Be Told “The Well of Uncomfortable Truths is discovered & deals Spain a hard fact- "Whenever you said you loved him, you didn’t really mean it. You were thinking of his brother. They were empty words.” Can Romano be convinced about whom the Well was talking about?” (completed)

Scaliest “When his entire life is taken from him, Antonio vowed to slay the beast that ruined his life no matter the cost. But on his travels he meets a secretive, sassy bard who might be more helpful than either of them realize. Is vengeance the answer or is there more at stake?” (on-going)

All I’ve lost “Lovino Vargas has slowly fallen into the trap that is Anorexia. He meets Antonio who is a strangely kind kid. Lovino thinks maybe, just maybe…there is hope. Warnings: Depression, anorexia, bulimia, mental illness and bullying.” (completed)

Infection “Antonio didn’t know what to think of the man who randomly showed up in his home… completely naked. Yet, he still found himself drawn to this “Lovino”, only to be thrown into his worst nightmare.” (on-going)

Tomato Angel “What happens when Antonio get’s jealous? (Aftermath of ‘Awesome Being Evil’)” (completed)

Step-Lovers “King Romulus is getting married to Queen Isabel. While the wedding goes smoothly, things don’t go all that smooth for Antonio and Lovino. The heat is especially turned up when it’s decided that there will be a competition for who gets to be heir to the throne.” (completed)

There goes my life “Antonio, 26, a old gourmet chef, a bachelor who’s all party. Lovino a 20 y/o premed student who only has one goal, to be become a doctor. He is determined to let his feelings for the Spaniard fade away, but after receiving devastating news, a drunken one night stand leads to the end of life as Lovino knows it.” (on-going)

Broken Wings, Healed Hearts “Junior Lovino Vargas, a broken angel, has a dark secret he’s determined to keep to himself, now matter how much of an outcast it makes him. But will his new neighbor, Antonio, change that?” (completed)

The Reunion “Light or Dark?” Lovino asked. Feliciano studied him before answering. “Light. Light always wins” When Feliciano Vargas catches the eye of a mysterious man only by the name of “The Lord,” he finds himself and his brother on an adventure ending in Germany’s infamous Black Forest. However, the Lord’s affections are not what they appear to be and Lovino finds himself worried there is a worse threat other than some creep trying to get into his brother’s pants. (on-going)

Slowly But Surely In Love “Lovino Vargas turns fifteen, the age at which the words of peoples’ soul-mates say to them when they first meet is branded onto their wrists. Feliciano has a brand as soon as the hand strikes midnight, but why doesn’t Lovino?” (completed)

Life with Lyrics Lovino Style “Lovino struggles with what he believes is a one-sided crush and his completely oblivious, also entirely too cheerful, brother. Mentions of suicide, but not a death fic!” (completed)

Walking the Line “Maybe stumbling into Walmart in search of supplies during the end of the world wasn’t as good of an idea as Lovino initially thought. Nothing screamed desperate like raiding the aisles of a fucking Walmart for food while a hoard of the undead snarled at him from outside, but that didn’t seem to matter to the armed trio he stumbled into, or more specifically, the odd Spaniard munching on Skittles. His ideas were getting to be pretty lackluster these days.” (ongoing)

Hymn to the Sea “Please, call me Antonio,” he says. “Oh, and Lovino?” “What?” Lovino snaps, a little sharper than he wants when his brain has finally caught up to his embarrassment and he realizes he’s acting like a love-sick child. He finds he still can’t keep up when Antonio’s smile changes into something different: not the friendliness it was earlier nor the comforting warmth it was moments ago. No, this one is affectionate. “I prefer your smile over Feliciano’s any day,” he says, quiet and honest. (completed)

I Can’t Help Falling in Love With You “Throughout the 500 years they spent together, Antonio never stopped reminding Lovino of how special he was, and Lovino never stopped making Antonio the happiest man on earth.” (completed)

Lentamente “Antonio and Lovino are struggling with catastrophic life changes. A traumatic event leaves Antonio scared of his own shadow; a romantic betrayal destroys Lovino’s ability to trust people. And when coping seems impossible, can dance save them?” (completed)

We’d Be Together “Something felt off about Antonio’s new home. The stairs creaked, the windows groaned, and in the mirror he saw a face he didn’t know. The face was young but the gestures old; Toni began a romance untold. He felt an issue new to most… if only he could touch Lovino the ghost.” (completed)

Blessed WIth A Curse “Monsters are real… and they didn’t just hide in your closet or under your bed. Too bad they came in the form of Antonio Fernandez Carriedo- a Spaniard too sexy for his own good. / AU Vampire!AntonioxLovino” (on-going)

Speak “Lovino is shy. So is Antonio. Oh dear…” (completed)

You Belong With Me “Lovino wished for a lot of things. He wished he had a family or food or fitting clothes or friends but mainly just wished to belong. He doesn’t quite get what he wished for when he meets filthy rich Antonio, who just came from Spain and has settled in the same town as the little thief. Still…it’s a start.” (completed)

The Witch of Sicily “There were still whispers, rumors that the witch of Sicily remained in that forest, cursing all who would come near. It was a place many feared to tread, treated almost as sacred ground. Only fools would dare incite the wrath of the witch by entering that place. Only fools…and pirates.” (on-going)

We the Dreamers “New York City, 1940: Antonio is a recently arrived refugee from Spain, a scarred soldier with firm political convictions. For Lovino, everything is pointless and nothing ever lasts. The two of them live, love and dream desperately, as World War Two threatens to take it all away.” (completed)

Guide Me “After witnessing a startling event, Lovino Vargas finds himself stricken with blindness from a psychological misfortune called ‘conversion disorder’. Without anyone to guide him, he is placed with Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, a novice seeing-eye counselor, who will try to help him regain his sight and if not, teach him how to live in the new dark, lonely world ahead of him.” (completed)

Pirate’s Lullaby “It was the last thing in the world that Lovino Vargas wanted. To fall in love with Antonio Fernandez Carriedo. But when the pirate takes him aboard his ship, Lovino learns that maybe it’s not so bad to be a pirate.” (on-going)

Infamous “Lovino was a childhood actor, but once the show he was a part of got canceled he thought he was free and could leave all the acting and fame up to his brother Feliciano. However, when a 'follow up’ episode is decided upon ten years later, he ends up going back. There he sees a familiar, face; Antonio Carriedo, a singer with his eye on Lovi making normal impossible” (completed)

Guilty Bliss “Lovino has had a drug problem for years that he’s never been able to stop. With his debts getting out of hand, Lovino finds himself in situations that made him wish he had quit.” (completed)

Bottoms Up! “Follow Lovino on his weird and, well, at least quite interesting trip around Europe in order to find out some of the greatest secrets ever about himself, Europe, tomato-shaped alarm clocks and the past of his lovely, but complicated Spanish partner.” (completed)

A Trip To Spain Could Only End In “Lovino is a foreign exchange student in Spain. Things were going just brilliantly before he happened upon a Spanish restaurant in the heart of Madrid where he laid eyes on a certain Spanish Sex God…” (completed)

The Pirates Treasure “Pirate Captain Antonio wants one thing, and one thing only; a mermaid. Boy or girl doesn’t matter, as long as they are royalty and can make him jewels.He’s got his wish, but dealing with this prince is going to be much harder than he thought.” (completed)

Strike a Pose, Fake a Smile “Antonio loves the stage; Romano hates it. So when he’s “convinced” into coming to drama club, he’s not gonna like it. In fact, he’s going to say things that he’ll regret. And because he’s such a good actor, this time Antonio believes him. Uh-oh.” (completed)

A Helping Hand “Antonio owns a cafe low on business. One day a strange boy comes in, running from a group of men and covered in wounds. Antonio offers for him to stay and repay him with work. As payment, the boy Lovino begins to make new dishes to bring more people into the cafe. Who is this boy and why won’t he tell Antonio anything but his name and age?” (completed)

A Beautiful Story “Lovino Romano Vargas is a suicidal designer who is unhappy with his fate. One day, he chances to meet Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, who turns his life upside down.” (completed)

Careless “This year, Antonio had priorities: grades, girlfriend and the Football competition, securing college with his two best friends! But that was before the Vargas moved in with all their drama including kidnapping, threats, and football talents. If anyone asks Lovino, not getting killed would be a clear ecstatic success. He is just what Antonio needed, or not.” (on-going)

This is it for now but I might update this if I get any suggestions, if I remember any fanfic that I missed or if I find any new good ones. If you’re an author and want me to add your fanfic or if you just want to suggest me one don’t be afraid to PM me! (because this is a masterlist after all)

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lawrenceop · 4 years

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HOMILY for 18th Fri per annum (I)

Nahum 2:1,3,3:1-3,6-7; Deut 32; Matt 16:24-28

We all watched in horror and fascination as those tremendous explosions devastated the city of Beirut this week. The ruin of Nineveh described by the prophet Nahum in the first reading could well apply to Beirut, and to so many other war-ravaged cities of the world today. Scientists said that the big explosion in Beirut was one fifth the power of an atomic bomb – a sobering thought as yesterday we marked the 75th anniversary of the explosion that destroyed Hiroshima.

On Tuesday evening, we all saw videos of the citizens of Beirut going about with their various daily activities – a priest livestreaming a Holy Mass; children at home with their nanny; a BBC correspondent conducting an interview; a young woman at her bridal photoshoot – and we all identified with these scenes of life as it should be. So, the suddenness and unexpectedness of the explosion, literally shattering these lives, really shook me. It struck me, as the author of Deuteronomy put it today, “It is close, the day of their ruin; their doom comes at speed.” For everything happened so quickly, and life is instantly overturned – a city, having recovered from a destructive civil war, is turned to shattered glass and falling rubble. The unexpectedness of the current pandemic which has struck the whole globe, and changed all our interactions and our familiar way of life has also come at great speed. We are thus reminded that sickness and death, with its devastating power, is always unexpected, always close, and can come at speed.

Personal tragedy has been on my mind too. Two weeks ago, our relatively young priory cat Felix died. Again, his end, when it came due to cancer, was swift. This personal sadness is almost trivial compared to the situations facing the Lebanese, and so many others closer to home because of the pandemic. However, Felix’s end is part of the same theme.

Where, then, is God in all this? What is his purpose and plan for us? How is Providence to be discerned in these global disasters?

For me, 2020 has been one long memento mori, a reminder of the inevitability of death, of the frailty of human life, of our total dependence on God’s grace for every good thing, and of our dependence on the kindness of other people. I’m reminded of the gratuitous gift of each day with its manifold blessings that we take for granted, and reminded of the fragility of goodness, of health, and of being itself. Perhaps the word of wisdom from Providence can be summed up in our psalm response today: “It is the Lord who deals death and life.”

In the Gospel today, the Lord Jesus also speaks of death: “let him renounce himself and take up his cross and follow me”. Death is a constant for human beings, so much so that God, in becoming man, also chose to undergo death. In this sense, the Lord deals death, even for himself in his Incarnation. However, God’s purpose in dying in Christ is to mitigate death. As St Paul says, death has “lost its sting” (1 Cor 15:55). Of course, death is still cruel, and sad, and sudden, and can be swift and unexpected. But it has lost its finality and so it is rendered less terrifying, less painful, less all-powerful.

For, with faith in Christ, and his saving death and resurrection, death and the end of this mortal life is transformed, and can become full of promise and hope. The Lord deals, not only death, but more importantly, life beyond the grave. Hence the Lord speaks this paradox in today’s Gospel: “Anyone who wants to save his life will lose it; but anyone who loses his life for my sake will find it.” Losing our lives for his sake seems to me to indicate that death, and destruction, and all the losses that we suffer in this life can also be a moment of faith, of trust, of hope in the risen Lord Jesus. We’re invited in the face of tragedy and sickness and even devastation to trust in God’s grace and power to restore and heal and rebuild. Thus, Israel, which was ruined by the Babylonians, is promised by the prophet Nahum that “the Lord is restoring the vineyard of Israel”.

Although death and doom can come at speed, we should remember, then, that God’s restoration of the good, the true good, can also be speedy. One’s conversion from the ruin of sin, the repentance of a mortal sinner, the salvation of a soul through infused grace, after all, takes no time – just an explosion of God’s grace in the soul that shatters our sin, and destroys our deadly habits, and empowers us to habitually say “Yes” to God. For “it is the Lord who deals death and life.” It is he deals death to our sins, and he who raises us to new life, new hope, a new Love, namely, eternal friendship with God himself.

Photo above copyrighted: AFP / Getty Images

#death #faith #hope #resurrection #beirut explosion #life #destruction #ruin

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theholycovenantrpg · 4 years

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CONGRATULATIONS, CLAUDIA! YOU’VE BEEN ACCEPTED FOR THE ROLE OF GABRIEL.

Admin Rosey: Wow - this was a terribly difficult decision to make. All the applications for Gabriel were so beautiful. But Claudia, have you no mercy? Gabriel has always held a rather special place within my heart simply because he is so unique unto himself, even among the entire legion of angels. You said it so aptly, but so cruelly: take an angel, give him everything but leave one thing missing. It’s a rather wicked script that one has to follow, isn’t it? But there is something terribly delicious about how this application doesn’t hold back on reading him right to his bones. You saw him for what he was: hunger, hunger, hunger. And you let us know that as well. The details, the small -isms that you gave him granted him such life that I couldn’t say no. Please create and send in your account, review the information on our CHECKLIST, and follow everyone on the FOLLOW LIST. Welcome to the Holy Land!

Alias

claudia

Age

Personal Pronouns

she / her

Activity Level

i work full-time but i’m always checking the dash or else staying up to date with plotting in the dms in between replies. and of course weekends are my most active times.

Timezone

gmt+10

Triggers

REMOVED

How did you find the group?

following a bunch of the wonderful people who were involved in its creation

Current/Past RP Accounts

here

IN CHARACTER

Character

gabriel

What drew you to this character?

so gabriel was not the first character that sparked my interest and the aesthete in me is very much compelled to justify in metaphor (you know, the whole “there’s this japanese phrase i like: koi no yokan. not love at first sight but second sight. the feeling that when you meet someone that you’re going to fall in love with them. maybe not right away, but it’s inevitable that you will.”). the truth is, i came into thc very much wanting to play a sexy morally ambiguous antagonist and agent of chaos that could wreak havoc and plot death and destruction. admittedly, i had only skimmed gabriel’s bio when it was released.

there’s an ancient roman crying out for blood in the colosseum in everyone that will always be drawn to the dark and the delicious possibility of amorality, because good and evil lies on a spectrum and exploring the shades of grey in between is so much more interesting than delving into a character who positions themselves so firmly at either end and says no, this is me, this is what i am and my conviction will not waver. or, to quote another beloved symbol, idol, champion of the people, that believed so fervently in a cause that the martyrdom nearly killed him, “when the mob and the press and the whole world tell you to move, your job is to plant yourself like a tree beside the river of truth, and tell the whole world — “no, you move.””

it is hard to write good. it is hard to take a character that is so infinitely good and compassionate, someone who is motivated by these enormous, intangible concepts like love and justice and peace, and capture them in words.

how do you explain why gabriel loves humans? how do you explain how he still loves them, fights for them, protects them, when everything his brothers and sisters did to him was because the humans dared to love him back? it’d be like asking the question of god himself — why? you claimed to love humans above all and yet you gave the strength, grace and majesty of immortality and wisdom to the angels. they were your firstborn, and humans were the spoiled youngest child. the unruly, overindulged creatures that got away with everything, that sinned and yet were still worthy of salvation.

for most people, gabriel is the first angel they ever learn about. gabriel coming to nazareth, gabriel saying be not afraid as he explains how a human woman will be the genesis of the son of god. he is the first. and understanding why gabriel loves humans, as god did, perhaps even more, comes back to the beginning, too.

gabriel was created the incarnation of hunger. and i am literally obsessed with the concept of ‘hunger’ in it all its forms, literary, cinematically, poetically. it’s fascinating because it’s not a concept that belongs to either good or evil, it’s simply a force, a manifestation of pure instinct. but we so often associate it with evil, and even in the bible, too much hunger is condemned. you could argue that the seven deadly sins are simply just an extrapolation of hunger in its myriad guises. the idea that you could be made perfect — as all angels are — and yet be left with this gaping chasm inside you, this endless hunger, a hunger that demands to be fed and nurtured, sated with divine higher purpose, is like, my literary achilles’ heel. why does gabriel love humans? how could he not? he was made in their image, and they in his.

What future plots do you have in mind for the character?

THE SUN NEVER SETS ON THE HOLY LAND.

that thing i said about wanting to play a sexy character? well gabriel being the sun and the third arm of the governing body that rules over the holy land is extremely sexy. it’s a shame he doesn’t much care for it. oh, he likes the concept of being a key guardian of freedom and peace across the new world but power holds no sway over him. and ironically that’s what makes him so inherently powerful. gabriel was the natural choice for the sun — beloved by humans, martyred for his love and sacrifices for them — he’d already burned for so long, so quietly, in service of bringing justice to the world. but gabriel has never needed a title to serve. he was born a messenger, a soldier, he has never needed a crown.

and despite what they say, heavy is the head, it is a crown perfectly made for him. the sun — illuminating and all-consuming, the source of all life and light in the world — is all-seeing. all-powerful. gabriel learned at god’s side what it means to rule. and a messenger is not so different from a prophet, from an orator. when he speaks, the world listens.

gabriel is well aware that michael sees the tridium power as child’s play, and their brotherhood as a means to influence the tridium, and thus the entirety of the holy land. power feeds and power corrupts and the lack of it will drive people like his brothers to insatiable madness. gabriel used to play peacemaker amongst his brothers, always defending the mortals or softening the aftermath of their fathers’ worst outbursts. now, as the sun, he stands above them. it is not a position he ever campaigned for but he’d won it all the same by democracy. the angel of the people, the sun of the holy land. he’s never pressed his influence over his brothers, always careful to tread the line of how his title benefits them and advances caelum’s purposes — celestial beings have always done things in three, after all. do i want to see him flex that power and unleash the full weight of his influence and majesty and just go absolutely supernova ham? of course. but it will take more that some sibling bickering and infighting to spark that wildfire. i don’t know yet what that spark would be, whether it’s demons meddling in tridium business or some political shift in the paradigm, but gabriel is not someone you want to cross.

do not mistake his kindness for weakness. the sun gives life as easily as it can set it ablaze.

LOYALTY WILL BE THE LAST BASTION TO CRUMBLE.

now this is entirely dependent on the dynamic of the three, in particular whoever is elected as the stars, but i see the tridium as a wildcard amidst all the vacillating allegiances and power plays of the holy land.

gabriel believes in the true purpose of the tridium, he believes each faction is entitled to equal authority over protecting the peace and future of the holy land. a true system of checks and balances, a democracy that amplifies the voices of the weak and powerless and upholds the cause of the vulnerable and the oppressed. whether that’s in the political interests of azazel and the future stars remains to be seen.

from the very beginning, gabriel would have been vitally curious about azazel. his former sister, a fallen angel. it is not his place to forgive, but he forgives nonetheless, as god would have. if he was not a thing made of hunger, the way she was a thing made of desire, maybe he would have fallen, too. he, more than anyone, had the right to fall. but he didn’t, and she did, and she’s done quite well for herself in the millennia since. finding herself a new throne, new family, even a new brother to dote upon her. in spite of his instincts and the holiness that riots in his veins against the thought of colluding with demons, even under the new testament, he understands. he doesn’t blame her. so, i will leave this entirely tbd for plotting but i could see either a strange, inexplicable friendship between them or a playful, vicious dynamic with an underlying current of empathy.

in many ways the moon and the stars will be the closest people gabriel has to true equals. he is no longer purely archangel, he is other. he must represent the interests of all of the holy land. trusting them would be folly, but unlike the ages of old, the name of the game is no longer a zero-sum winner takes all scenario. if the peace fails, the world will crumble into bedlam. is it a doomed act, attempting to balance the three factions upon the scales of peace? perhaps. perhaps they are playing a losing game, betting against the house, delaying the inevitable. it would be one thing to manipulate the balance of power between them, feeding the poison of their faction into their governance. it would be another if any one of their factions actually won.

why did they call themselves the sun, the moon, the stars? because they are figureheads, above all. symbols of caelum, infernum, the holy land. their factions all believe them to be puppets, leverage for their own political hunger and thirst for power. they are not blind. if either of their sides emerges from an inevitable all out war situation, what will happen to them? crownless, purposeless, no kingdom left to rule. certainly not a kingdom that will be theirs.

azazel wants to be worshipped. gabriel wants to burn until righteousness has scoured all evil from the holy land. the stars will inevitably be someone equally chaotic. they’re all that stands between the holy land and desolation. it’s like the perfect office workplace drama set-up. i would like to see it.

HUNGER IS THE MOST HUMAN THING OF ALL

throughout time, gabriel has had his favourites. he’s his father’s son, after all. zacharias, mary, noah. if these were the ages of old, he might have counted revna among those ranks. if gabriel were not an immortal angel, this would be called having a friend. but because gabriel is who he is, he considers them more like wards. like he’s taken it upon himself to be their self-appointed guardian angel.

it’s lonely being an instrument of god, and now the sun of the holy land, like what do you imagine he does after a long day of work? relax? of course not. so having a friend is nice. and having someone he can talk to, free of all the baggage and weight of being who they are, is like a glimpse of the peace he hasn’t known since before he had wings.

with revna, as with every mortal he had ever taken under his golden wings, he swallows any thought of just how mortal they are. how short-lived. in a blink, she will die. in another, her name will be forgotten, nothing more than a memory imprinted in a lonely angel’s mind. he tries not to think too much about mortality, or the whims and follies of mortals, the lengths they will go to in the name of survival that he has never dreamed. their freedom is predicated on living long enough to taste it. is it such a crime to want to live? for all their limitless powers and immortality, no angel and demon will ever know what that feels like — the sheer, visceral incandescence of burning so fleeting but so brilliant that to die is nothing. to live is the ultimate choice.

also… their powers are literally antithetical to each other. revna creates reality for all the senses, and gabriel deadens them. hello, let’s talk about that!

i’ll keep this brief or else i’ll spend days spiralling into interesting tangents and possibilities but other than the archangels and select few higher-ranking angels are aware of his powers. they think he doesn’t have any. to reveal this aspect of himself, a bearing of something like his true self or maybe even a soul, would be very spicy. in case anyone needs a reminder that all angels are terrifying and just because gabriel is pretty and warm like the sun, you shouldn’t believe he is anything less than terror carved into the sublime.

SO THIS IS HOW LIBERTY DIES. WITH THUNDEROUS APPLAUSE.

this is the darkest timeline plot where i throw a dice just to see where it lands. i don’t see gabriel deviating too much from his course, because he is the tree (planted by the river, if you remember the earlier quote), and he will destroy himself before he has to bend or break beneath the whims of external chaos.

of course, it’s fun to the think about the hypotheticals so i’m going to do that. if the tridium falls, where does that leave gabriel? and to whom will his allegiances lie? if michael or raphael are the cause, would he stand beside caelum all the same? gabriel loves humans because he wants to; he loves his siblings because they are his blood and bone. rip to the angels but you and the mortals are not the same.

he’s also seen how the holiness of the angels have been twisted and warped over time, through countless wars and inimitable suffering, yes. but they’ve changed nonetheless. some amongst them are closer to their fallen brethren than anyone would ever dare to admit but gabriel sees all. he was the angel they left to rot in the farthest corners of heaven, he was the one whose wings were torn, not by enemies of heaven but by his own brothers. and he did not fall. so either gabriel is made of stronger stuff than all the angels or he is the dumbest of them all. it’s very likely both. his faith in the existence of the angels is resolute, unwavering after all this time. his righteousness has burned for a thousand years and it will burn a thousand more until the sun swallows everything and all things cease to exist. if he has to turn against brother and sister, as they did with him, and unquestioningly at that, then he will.

he has sworn to smite any creature that will strike down an innocent before him, and whether angel or demon, it’s a quest that he will pursue to its ruinous end.

Are you comfortable with killing off your character?

yes, preferably by going supernova in a blaze of gory and carnage.

IN DEPTH

Driving Character Motivation

it all comes back to hunger, baby. let’s do this as a thought exercise. imagine god in his build-a-bear workshop for angels creating gabriel like he’s pandora’s box:

take an angel, give him everything but leave one thing missing.

don’t tell him what it is.

teach him the hole inside him is called hunger and that hunger is love, hunger is sacrifice, hunger is knowing that the kingdom of heaven is empty and god is not enough.

take an angel, give him hunger, and then wonder why he becomes more human than human.

gabriel is driven by the insatiable wanting in him to do good. i will note that it is, in a fact, a want and not a need because this in itself is the thing that distinguishes him from his brothers. in a way, falling in love with humanity was an act of free will, and thus an act of defiance. god wanted him to protect his children, yes, but he had never intended for him to enjoy it. he had never foreseen that gabriel, filled with compassion and thirst for justice, would come to empathise with the humans. he never could have imagined that creating an angel out of pure hunger could make him more akin to human than divine. and that was god’s mistake. it’s the mistake of anyone that looks at him and sees weakness — why would a creature so powerful deign to care for humanity? why should he care if they live or die, or wage war or hurt each other? — they imagine that his relentless pursuit of a better world is because he was made for it. no, gabriel chose this world. he chose to strike down god and tear his throne down with his teeth. he chose remake the world better, brighter, braver.

and as god will tell you, beware any that dare stand in his way.

Character Traits

INCANDESCENT — there isn’t really a word that captures gabriel’s essence other than in terms of sunlight and burning. being near him is like turning skywards and feeling of the sun on your face. he is radiant, and charismatic and magnetic, and it ignites a sort of hunger in you to be close to him, to listen to him speak, to tell him everything about you and answer any question he asks, if only to be in his presence for a little longer. to be under the shade of his attention is like being pinpointed at the center of the universe. it’s gratifying, and incredibly intoxicating, being given the sole focus of one of the most powerful beings in the holy land. for a moment, you are the one, and everything else falls away into shadow. but of course, reality snaps back and everything and everyone is simply whirling around in orbit of gabriel, the sun.

COMPASSIONATE — before he was the sun, he was the archangel of the people, the guardian of humans and the champion of god’s most beloved children. out of all the angels, gabriel was the one who took pains to mean it when he said be not afraid. he wore their skin and learned to smile like humans — with the eyes, not just with the mouth — because it would comfort them instead of scare them. as a former messenger, gabriel’s also an excellent listener. he gives excellent advice, too, being naturally sympathetic to the plights and suffering of anyone he meets. he hates injustice and wrongdoing and if it’s in his power, he’ll do anything to help you rectify your circumstances. he’s a very giving person, and despite his various duties and responsibilities, he’s willing to go to the ends of the earth for someone if he believes it’s a cause worth serving.

SELF-RIGHTEOUS — the other side of the embodiment righteousness coin. because when you have a creature as all-powerful and driven as gabriel is, his morality is absolute. there is no room for grey or doubt in the eyes of the self-proclaimed moral compass of the holy land. good and evil lie on a spectrum but gabriel will play the trinity himself if that’s what it takes: judge, jury and executioner.

GRACIOUS. UNYIELDING. SPITEFUL.

In-Character Para Sample

Heaven is cold, if you could believe it. There are places in the kingdom of God where the sun holds no dominion. No, everything here is ruled by and under Him. His omniscience and omnipotence is all. His kingdom is coldest where light shies from the darkness, held at bay by the divine liminality of here and nothingness. You cannot define a space that is simply nothing, simply an absence. An abyss would be too poetic a word for it, this black hole spinning ad infinitum into the dark, soaking up every molecule of anything that could be constituted as being. It is a nothingness. It is a forever of nothingness.

This is where they keep their prisoners.

If you imagine God to be cruel, consider for a moment what he does to his own children.

It could be a month, it could be a millennia, that has passed since they cast him into the shadows of Heaven and left him here. Not to rot, or decay, but to exist; the cruellest punishment of all. Suspended in a vacuum of seeing, feeling, hearing, touching, tasting, a mockery of his own abilities. In the realms of hell, they might call this purgatory. The architects of Heaven would never deign to give a place like this a name.

Gabriel counts seconds and minutes here and there to pass time. A mindless, thoughtless exercise that intrudes upon the endless, desolate stretch of infinity. It keeps him from thinking about his wings and how he might never fly again.

There is no air here to fly, to surge up and taste wind between his feathers. He’s thankful for it — perhaps the only godforsaken grace he’s been granted, a pitiful stroke of thoughtless mercy — if only because it means he cannot attempt it. He thinks if he were to try, wings screaming for clemency, searing fire along his back and down his chest, and fall, that would be the last of him. And if there is nothing left of Gabriel, what would that make him? A creature of divine agony and writhing torment. A monster better suited to hell. If he could claw his way out of the unseeable and untouchable bars of this prison, perhaps he would see that Lucifer had been right.

God was weak. He deserved to be struck down. He deserved to have everything taken from him, as he had taken everything from them.

In the embrace of the void, Gabriel oscillates through every emotion at his disposal. Humanity taught him a great deal about feeling. How hatred and loathing simmered like poison in the blood; how the blaze of fury clawing up your throat could incinerate reason and logic; how love was a form of magic, a trace of stolen divinity pressed between the lips of mortals, enveloped in bodies and hands and kisses. Gabriel did not understand love the way humans did. His love was a consuming thing, a devotion like worship. Like self-immolation. He loved God because that was what he was made for. He loved his brothers because he fought and bled for them, because they were carved from the same grace and streak of lightning crackling through the heavens.

He did not know if he loved God the way humans loved him. They had never seen him, never felt his magnanimous smile or the great vastness of his presence, and yet they believed. They believed so fully, so viscerally, they would die for him anyway. They lived their tiny, fleeting lives grasping for the sky, dreaming and hoping of one day seeing him.

Gabriel saw God all the time, but his love was a necessity to him like existence. It was not a choice.

Did that make it lesser? Was it less true because humans chose and he did not?

Sometimes, he sits here, floating in the forgotten recesses of Heaven’s prison, and wonders if maybe God had truly made a mistake. Why give the angels everything, but free will? Why give the humans nothing and only free will? It was inexplicable, the ultimate riddle wrapped in an enigma, obscured by God’s will and word, that the angels had been asking since Adam and Eve and the garden.

In the time he floats, wavering between ire and despondence, rage and bitterness, he thinks he finds the answer. — The reason why God loved humans above all. The reason why he’d chosen them, blessed them, forgiven them.

Humanity was given the choice. And they had chosen God, in spite of everything.

If he had granted the angels the same freedom, would they have chosen Him?

Extras

PINTEREST.

#accepted #accepted: gabriel

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askwhenerosmetpsyche · 4 years

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What do I do with this?

When a friend or loved one’s birthday would roll around, I used to give them a sneak peak into their solar return and tell them the good things that were lining up. Then last year every chart started looking rather terrible and I wasn’t sure how to interpret it. Lots of 8th house themes -- not everyone can die, right? Could be pregnancy. Could be inheritance. Could be a new business. But these felt like stretches. I couldn’t shake the worry. Then all of this happened.

I told everyone I knew at the start of this year to watch out for March. Over dinner I told my father-in-law. “But that’s when we’re taking a trip to New York.” I looked at him incredulously. It was early February. “You’re not going to New York.”

A few years ago I had a series of dreams that felt very prophetic. I get them every so often. I dreamed about my children 10 years before they were born. I’ve dreamed about meeting important people in my life. But these dreams felt too scary to be real, yet I couldn’t shake their significance. A talking baby warning me about breathing the air, and another featuring tanks rolling down my street. One came true, and the second one looks about to. I’m not sure how this election will go, but I feel like we’re in real danger of sliding into military rule. And so this is my ongoing question to the Universe this year: What am I supposed to do with this information?

Perhaps to spread hope? I see hope. It’s just a ways away. I tell everyone to hold onto the post-inauguration world -- although truly I am not sure what happens on that day. It looks so revolutionary. The sky looks angry. The people are there and they’re wanting action. No one seems happy -- which is understandable given everything. But then a few weeks go by and...everything gets better. The sky loosens up. Transits are friendlier and lighter and I’m still not sure exactly how other than we collectively move into Aquarian energy. To be sure, nothing will be the same again, but that isn’t what we want. I think -- I hope it’s the start of taking action towards systems that serve its citizenry. The first step to change is to believe change is possible, and even though our world becomes more magic-like every day, doom feels more and more inevitable.

So many of my friends had children around the same time and when I would look at their children’s charts, collectively, there was always this black spot where Pluto would land. It emphasized the same energy -- desperation for security. Normally I would see this energy manifest in the chart of someone with a pretty difficult childhood. Someone with different parents -- different than I knew my friends to be. Now I know what that energy is and it’s a bit of a relief because I was beginning to wonder if the entire west coast of the US was going to fall into the ocean. We can see that this moment in time is making a big impact on so many kids who are old enough to remember it. So much of an impact that it will stay with them for the rest of their life. The Pluto in Capricorn generation -- they’re going to be the ones to rebuild the structures we are tearing down right now. They’re taking responsibility for the mess. They will be the ones to solidify plans and implement changes. More Greta Thunbergs are coming, and they are here to expose the foolishness of the Pluto in Leo generation. The kids who refused to grow up and read Ayn Rand and coined colloquialisms like “If you’re young and conservative, you have no heart. If you’re grown and liberal, you have no brain.” They don’t believe they have benefited from systemic racism. They worked hard for a bigger house in a whiter neighborhood. They believe this is the American dream.

When I talk about karma, this is what I’m talking about. Children are always the other end of our actions. Our interconnectedness ripples into every corner of the globe in ways we cannot even begin to fathom. We benefit from the karma of the country we live in. We pay for it too. We inherited it from our family and we pay for theirs as well whether it’s through a childhood where we suffer for our parents’ neglected wounds, or through growing up in a country with unaffordable healthcare and watching a sick parent sink the entire family into homelessness. When Mark Jones talks about Pluto as being the wound of the patriarchy, this is what he is talking about. It’s a complete loss of the feminine. It’s individualism run amok. It’s focusing on me rather than we. It is our collective karma. And it’s up to us to balance it.

As I’ve been watching the events of this year unfold I wonder what is the use of knowing things before they happened. What’s the use of seeing anything? Anyone? Whenever I look at the sky or a natal chart -- the information is overwhelming and it feels like a torrent of pain and wonder and inspiration difficult childhoods and destined heartbreak. What can I tell you that will help?

It was my friend’s birthday a couple days ago, and her solar return looked truly awful. I didn’t know what to say. “I hope it’s easier than last year!” she texted. What do I say? Do I lie? I want to tell her to see the doctor. I want to tell her to look after her health. I’m hoping she’s having a difficult pregnancy this year. The 5th house in her return chart is lightly implicated. “Are you planning to have babies this year??” I ask hopefully. She texts back “uhhh. NO! But you’re not the first to ask.” I’m not sure what else to write. I tell her the year looks calmer and it does. Just not in a way she’d necessarily want.

I feel like I’m reliving this moment: It is last summer and I am running through the airport on my cousin’s birthday so I call her and suddenly I am in the terminal trying to find a way to tell her that her father will pass this year. So I tell her that she would be coming back home multiple times and I tell her to save money for that. She guessed what I meant. Her father had been sick for a while. It was my fault for calling her while running through the airport and seeing the chart for the first time. I should’ve learned my lesson a few months earlier when she had me read an on-the-spot synastry between her boyfriend and her on speakerphone. I looked at the chart and Oh god I thought. I stuttered. “You guys are intense!” I lamely said. They broke up the following month. I stuttered the same way at the airport. She has since stopped calling me.

When I started reading charts a few years ago, back during the good days when the full weight of the world had not quite come crashing down on our shoulders, I could see the good things to come. No, here in the downward mobility of mid 2020, the appeal of it all is dwindling. I need long breaks. I feel like I’m not cut out for this work and I wonder how others do it. “You’re in the messiness of others’ lives” my Scorpio friend once consoled me. “It’s not an easy place to be.” And I agree. But again, What am I supposed to do with this?

#rambles

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cruisingheightswithdragons · 5 years

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Dethwindow

Summary: Guy has a new ally to his team, and begin planning their next big move. Meanwhile, Charles and Nikita have a heart to heart about the past, and what the future may hold.

A/N: Thanks for being patient with how slow the updates have been recently! Enjoy!

Word count: 2047

Guy waited in what he believed to be a living room in the abandoned house. The lack of furniture, save for an old folding chair made the room barren. The man sat in the folding chair, waiting for his old friend, the metal masked assassin, to return with another ally. Though he was surprisingly welcomed back by the assassin, Guy did not at all feel at home. There was so much he wanted to say to rekindle their partnership, but he knew too well that such a thing would never happen with them.

Guy focused back to the now as he heard the creak of the back door to the house open, and close with a clunk. The metal masked assassin entered the supposed living room, followed by another man around his height, though much lankier. The newcomer looked to be about Guy’s age, maybe a little younger. Regardless, the stranger’s age showed with his wrinkled face, while his long, brown, wavy hair that cascaded down just below his shoulders was streaked with silver. He wore no shirt, opting instead for an open top that exposed his hair peppered chest. As well, his belt with an interestingly designed buckle kept his dark pants up.

“Is this our new ally?” Guy asked with a smile, gazing at the newcomer with welcoming eyes.

The stranger did not change his resting face, which looked as though it were angry. He reached out his hand when Guy did so as well, one firm shake of their hands defused their strangerhood. “Magnus.” He introduced.

“Guy,” Guy returned, “A pleasure.”

The masked assassin folded his arms, and relaxed himself against a wall, looking at the two through his mask, a scowl resting comfortably on his face.

“Have you been made aware why you have been called upon?” Guy asked Magnus.

“As far as I’m concerned, you have your thing, while we get to destroy Dethklok in the process.” Magnus replied.

“True,” Guy said, “but what concerns me is that we stop the end of the world from coming. Whatever happens to that band, I don’t care, so long as we destroy the two who carry the end times on their shoulders.” Guy reached into his pocket, and pulled out two polaroids depicting Charles and Kris respectively. Guy moved the photo of Charles in front. “I believe you may know him.” He handed the two photos to Magnus.

“My old manager,” Magnus explained, “The fact you need him dead is only going to make getting to Dethklok easier.” He took the other photo in his other hand, looking at Kris’s grainy picture. “Who’s this one?”

“They’re the other one that needs to be killed. Don’t be fooled by their small stature, they’re stronger than they look.”

Magnus laughed. “The way you said that made me think they actually took you on and won.”

Guy hissed at the comment, making Magnus chuckle upon realizing that it was true.

“Once that manager is out of the way,” The metal masked assassin said, “Dethklok is next.”

Magnus smiled, and turned from the assassin to Guy. “Where do we begin?”

“Alright Skwisgaar, that was really good.” Nikita said into the small microphone jutting out of the booth covered with buttons.

“Naturally’s.” Skwisgaar replied. He exited the recording booth when given the go ahead to stop, returning to the dimly lit room where everyone else was.

Dick backed up his chair, and spun it around to face the boys. “Good job guys,” He praised, “Let’s keep up this momentum, yeah?”

“You guys did great, considering none of us are sober.” Nikita teased, causing Kris to laugh.

Dick rose from his chair, and made his way to the door. “I’ll see you all later,” He said, “Nikita, babe, you should stick around!” He laughed as he left the room.

“So’s what’s should we do’s now?” Toki asked.

Skwisgaar looked from Toki to Nikita. “We amment’s done pallin’s around!”

Nikita stood up. “No, we aren’t!”

“Besides,” Kris added, “I’m feeling myself sobering up, so I still want to finish my screwdriver!”

The group made their way to the recreation room, where a clutter of bottles and cans of alcohol were scattered across the floor, and went right back to hanging out where they left off.

Every single bottle and can that was scattered across the floor had all been emptied. Three hours had gone by, and it was approaching midnight. Nikita noticed the lack of energy amongst everyone, especially since Kris could barely keep their head up. She however, felt wide awake.

“Alright, I think it’s time we all went to bed.” She advised.

“But we’s having so much fun’s!” Skwisgaar retorted, wrapping a long arm around Nikita’s shoulders in a friendly manner, as if trying to stay standing while sleep waited on his doorstep.

“Come on,” Kris added, “You guys look like you’re going to fall asleep at any moment.”

Nathan looked from Kris to Nikita, and nodded. He pressed a hand to Toki’s back and walked away towards his room, leading Toki to his first. After that, there were no objections as the other three stumbled drunkenly to their respective bedrooms.

Kris settled into the floor, with a comforter draped over their tiny frame. “What about you?” They asked Nikita.

“What about me?” She returned.

“You gonna sleep too?”

Nikita shook her head. “I’m still pretty awake. I’ll lie down in a bit, I’m just gonna appreciate how quiet it is in here now.”

After a brief nod from Kris, Nikita departed to wander the halls of Mordhaus. The walls, the floor, the ceiling, it all let Nikita slip into memories of her time living in Mordhaus years ago. To her, it felt as though it was simultaneously yesterday and eons ago that she met the band and ended up crashing at their place, only to end up staying due to her ability to make them productive.

Nikita stopped in her tracks when she realized she was next to the large, red window that carried so many memories with it. Looking through the glass, she stared at the darkened horizon, deep in thought. A repeat of the prior night played over and over in her head as Nikita tried hard to come to terms with how she was really feeling about it all. Guy had meant the world to her, and to suddenly turn her back on him only made it worse. Nikita wondered if perhaps she should have mentioned the prophecy at all, but the question was shaken off, considering that prophecy would play out even if she had not said anything.

Whispers danced in Nikita’s ears. A familiar feeling of discomfort shook her body as she realized she was receiving prophetic whispers. Despite that, they were hard to discern. “… rejection… power…”

Nikita covered her ears, even though she knew that doing so wouldn’t help. The whispers spoke hushly, with Nikita only being able to make out a few words, before they suddenly fell silent. To replace the whispers, Nikita’s vision went white for a split second as she looked out the window. What looked like a person was seen falling a great height. She gasped as she witnessed the body hit the train tracks below her. Blinking back shock, Nikita peered downward, but the body was nowhere to be seen, not even a bloodstain remained.

“Prophecy…” Nikita mumbled, “that’s what that was…” She shivered at the thought of the poor bastard who was inevitably doomed to such a fate.

A noise caught her attention, and Nikita turned around to see Charles standing a few feet behind her, looking at her with his comforting eyes.

“It’s been a while since we’ve been by this window, hasn’t it?” He said.

Nikita turned back to look out the window, remembering those countless, sleepless nights in which she and Charles would talk about anything and everything. “Yeah,” She sighed, “It has.”

Charles cleared his throat. “I’ve been, ah, meaning to talk with you.”

“About which elephant in the room?” Nikita asked, half-chuckling.

Charles tensed his shoulders, unsure with how to continue. “I… you know I’m not the best at these things, but uh… I wanted to apologize.”

Nikita blinked and turned her head to face him.

“I’m sorry that I hadn’t come back to you sooner, I realize now what that meant to you, and I wish I had known back then. I hurt you, Nikita.”

“Finally admitting it, huh?” Nikita turned back towards the window, and placed a hand to the glass. “What we had… it meant a lot to me. I don’t know how much it meant to you, if it did at all, but to me it did. When you came back that night, I felt betrayed. It was so long since you ‘died’ that I felt like I didn’t matter to you enough to return to. That lie you brought onto me for so long… what else could I feel?”

“But you did matter.” Charles insisted, “There was so much I wanted to say, and so many time I wished I had gone back to tell you, but—”

“— But you didn’t. And you can’t take that back. Things weren’t golden between us then, and I doubt they will be at all. I grieved for you, only for it to not matter at all.”

Charles sighed, and paused. “Things are different now.”

“Given how heartfelt you’ve been since I’ve seen you again, that’s an understatement.” Nikita laughed, but her eyes showed heartbreak.

“With everything that’s been going on, Nikita I think it’s best if we both move on from the past.”

“I tried to.” Nikita held her arms together close to her body, remembering how welcomed and loved Guy had made her feel. “There are some things in the past that are going to leave deep scars no matter how much you try.”

“I know all too well.” Charles sighed. He noticed Nikita step forward as if to regain lost balance. He realized she wasn’t as sober as she let on. “I’m… regardless of what happened with us, I’m here for you if you need to talk.”

“I know,” Nikita said, “I just don’t want to. Not about me anyway. I’ve known Kris for a while and haven’t seen them so fucked on alcohol in a long time.” She relaxed her shoulders as she changed the subject.

“It is worrisome,” Charles agreed, “I’ve noticed them using more as days go by. It seems as though they take any chance they get to be drunk.”

“They always come around, trust me. Kris is too passive to really fight anyone about it.”

Charles chuckled, though he felt a twinge of sympathy as he remembered how much they had taken the night before their fight with Guy, and how little they cared to argue about stopping, no matter how much they wanted to continue. “Even so, they’re nice company to have. I enjoy them being here. I just wish…” He inhaled sharply. “I just wish we didn’t have to know each other because of this prophecy.”

Nikita looked at Charles as he gazed out the window with a look that told her all she needed to know. “Charles,” She addressed, and he looked at her in response, “you love them, don’t you?”

Charles was taken aback. He cleared his head and looked back out the window. “Is it that obvious?”

Nikita sighed, but smiled reassuringly. Though it pained her to know he had moved on, she felt proud of him for it as well. She had seen in just the few minutes they’ve spent together how much he had grown.

Charles pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know what I should do, though. I don’t want to break their heart.”

“You won’t,” Nikita said, “Things between us are in the past. You learned from them.” She places a hand on his back comfortingly. “I’ve seen how much you’ve changed since our time, and I’m glad that you’ve grown from it. I can promise you that you won’t let them be hurt.”

Charles smiles at Nikita, and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “Knowing you, I’m glad those words came from you.”

Their friendship on the path of being rekindled, they stared out the window in comfortable silence.

Tagged readers: @ardate

#my fic #metalocalypse #mtl #metalocalypse oc #mtl oc #mtl nikita #mtl kris #charles offdensen #dick knubbler #skwisgaar skwigelf #toki wartooth #nathan explosion #pickles the drummer #william murderface #metal masked assassin #guy #guy the bad guy #magnus hammersmith

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questionsonislam · 5 years

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Is it possible that the qualities given to the human being can be a proof of that he should be resurrected and of that, the eternal life exists?

In many of the verses in the Glorious Quran, it is firmly pointed out that death is certain and there is no way to be saved from it: Every soul is bound to taste death. (Al-Imran Surah, 3:185; Al-Anbiya Surah, 21:35; Al-Ankabut Surah, 29:57), All that is on the earth is perishable.(Ar-Rahman Surah, 55:26).

That the human being will not be able to find a cure for death and that he is weak in the face of death is highlighted in these verses: Say: Flight will be of no avail to you if you flee from death or being killed. (Al-Ahzab Surah, 33:16), Say: Death, from which you flee, will surely meet you in any case. (Al-Jumuah, 62:8), "Then, how is it you do not – when the soul comes up to the throat (of a dying human), while you are looking on –and while We are nearer to him (the dying human) than you are, but you do not see (that) –Then, how is it you do not – if you are not bound to Us in dependence (subject to Our will) –(How is it that) you do not restore the soul (of that dying human), if you are truthful (in your claim)? (Al-Waqiah Surah, 56:83-87).

Prophet Muhammad, peace and blessings be upon him, said that every disease has a cure; however, old age or death has none.

That in our age science, medicine and technology progress fast makes some people ask whether in time a cure for death will also be found; even, some people take this conjecture as an absolute reality and this way devise still another pretext to reject the hereafter. However, all the works and researches carried out could not yield a cure for death, on the contrary have shown that death is an inevitable truth; and the decree el-mewtu hakkun (death is a reality) has always been confirmed.

With the drive of the desire of eternity, humankind has searched for a world in which to live happily for ever; in order to attain this desire by removing death, they have specified hundreds of things that lead to death and they supposed that by removing these causes they could overcome death. However, all these efforts availed nothing and every work done to this end has further fortified the certainty of death.

Having mentioned the unsuccessful effort about this issue, Alex Carrel continues:

Humankind will not become tired of incessantly searching for eternity and of pursuing it. But he will never attain it. This is because the composition of human submits to the laws in universe. The human being can stop the physiological time for the organs of his body; he can even postpone death for a short time, but he can never overcome death, cannot kill death.

The creation of the human being as growing and developing makes it inevitable for him to escape from aging and dying. The human being can find the ways of living longer and healthier, but as he cannot stop aging, he cannot eradicate death, either.

In View of His Material and Spiritual Qualities, the Human Being Points to the Existence of the Hereafter

The human being is a creature, whom God created as the perfect pattern of creation (At-Tin Surah, 4), whom He fashioned with material and spiritual organs and equipments (Al-Infitar Surah, 7), whom He has granted from all that he asks him (Ibrahim Surah, 34), whom He set on the earth as a vicegerent (Al-Baqarah Surah, 30), whom He has honored with so many favors (Al-Isra Surah, 70). Such that every creature on the earth both live and lifeless heads to the human being and compete with one another to become human.

It is enough just to look at the human brain to understand the superiority of the human being. Such that it is reckoned that in universe, there are approximately 2³°° atoms. And in the human brain there are about 10 billion neurons. As each neuron cell has two different branches, 10 billion neuron cell has a value of 2¹°°°°°°°°°°. When 2³°° and 2¹°°°°°°°°°° are calculated, it will be clearly seen that a human brain equals to how many universes.

Although light travels with such an astonishing speed as 300.000 km per second, the human being reaches the sun, stars by way of thought and imagination with even greater speed than that of light, and virtually embraces the universe with his ideas.

The other material organs of the human being are also such. In each one of the organs, virtually hundreds of factories are at work. Even in just one single cell, works that cannot be done even in great factories, which cover areas of kilometers, are carried out.

Seeing that the material constitution of man is like that, then how is his spiritual dimension. Just as the soul is much higher and superior to the material, so are the spiritual life, abilities, and competences of man is as much astonishing and beyond the perception of the mind. In the human soul are installed both endless needs and sorrows and endless pleasures. From the aspect of his, the human being is like a mystery, yet to be figured out.

This verse, which is attributed to Ali, may God be pleased with him, summarizes the place and the importance of the human being in the universe:

Taz'umu annaae jirmun sagîrun

Va fîka intavâ al-âlamu'l-akbar

You deem yourself a small being,

However, the great universe is contained in you.

Therefore, humankind, which has such a form of creation, cannot be left on its own devices; this great care shown toward him cannot be for him in order to enter the grave never to awake again having lived a short life. On the contrary, the human being is created for another life beyond that of this world. His entire being confirms this. Then the human being can in no way say: what importance I possess that for me the universe is demolished, the doom broken and a new world built; what if with this weak situation of mine, I disbelieve and sin?

Whoever pays attention to the creation, abilities and capacities of the human being, immediately understand that he is created for an eternal life. Just like the one who sees such a big fish as whale struggling in a small pool will instantly understand that this fish does not belong to that pool, rather to big sees or oceans; so is the creation of the humankind the same. The creation, abilities, and capacities of the humankind testify and prove the fact that he is created for another world.

It cannot be imagined that the innumerable abilities and capacities in human beings are given for the life of this world. This is because here we do not need most of them. Moreover, many abilities and capabilities, feelings and senses, if not directed to the aim of their creation, most often darken the life of the human being and turn out to be a trouble. For example, his remembering past pleasures, feeling anxiety about his future, his excessive ambition toward and attachment to the world and his not being satisfied accordingly all darken mans world and make life sour for him. Thus, these feelings and senses are not given to him for the life of this world; on the contrary, are given in order for him to earn an eternal life. For the real anxiety is needed for the beyond of the grave. The real ambition is for earning the means of the hereafter. The real love is for the hereafter and for the eternal friends. The real places of functioning of these feelings and senses are these. Otherwise, it is harm that they bring, not benefit.

For this reason, if it is assumed that the hereafter does not exist, the human being falls down to such a level worse than and below animals in terms of rank and honor, for the trouble man suffers, troubles and misfortunes he confronts in the life of this world are more than those of animals. He experiences troubles and sufferings before and after they arise as a result of his thinking ability and expectations. Animals are not like that; they experience sufferings only the moment they show up. Therefore, they are comfortable. They are not uncomfortable thinking about the past and the future. Again, the benefits the human being takes from this world are less than those of animals both in terms number are and of the pleasure and peace, they get from them. For example, when we look in terms of number, the ox eats more and the sparrow mates more. When we look in terms of the pleasure and peace gotten, the life of the world is full of troubles and sufferings, hardships and difficulties; pleasures are, on the other hand, so few as a drop out of an ocean. In short, if there is no other world, no hereafter where the human being will be freed of sufferings and troubles, where he will attain pure pleasures and blessings, he falls into a situation lower and more unfortunate than all animals. In terms of pleasures and blessings, animals would have gotten bigger share than he would.

Jawhari says in the explanation of the verse I swear by the Day of Resurrection; And I swear by the self-accusing human soul. (Al-Qiyamah Surah, 75:1-2):

God Almighty swears about our resurrection by the Qiyamah-Resurrection and by Nafs-i Lawwama-the self accusing human soul. In other words, He says, you will surely be resurrected. God Almighty swears by the grandeur of the Final Day and by the soul that heads for the heights and that desires to ascend. This is such a soul that, not satisfied with any rank, always wants another. It is a soul that is not content with any state and yearns for what will follow, and desires the upper one. Therefore, this swearing is like a bringing a proof of the Final Day. It is as if God Almighty says: The love for development and the desire not to stay in a limited rank in this world, which are installed in your souls, are a proof of another world where the human being will attain whatever he desires. The creation of the human being is a proof of the Final Day.

Human beings desire, thirst and ambition for high ranks, their wanting ever more as property and knowledge, their not being satisfied with just one state are all proofs of another life. The human soul is longing to search and to discover new things. In his creation is ingrained the desire to overcome and become superior to others. In history, every king wanted to rule over more people than he ruled, and every rich person desired more property than he had. Only death can quench this thirst of man. Do you think these desires are created in vain? No! No! This is because of the mystery that will be disclosed only after death and at the Final Day. If the human being does not have an aim of the eternal life, then life turns into a vain delusion. The result of the order on the earth becomes a manifest disappointment. However, each one of the feelings given to creatures absolutely has an aim. All these miserliness, wars, engrossments in knowledge, acquiring property, angers, building ships, inventing weapons, what is reason of all these efforts and desires? Are all these for the life of this world which does not deserve any weariness? The Quran answers these questions as follows: I swear by the self-accusing human soul which does not stand on any boundary, and which pursues high ranks. This swearing means: This feeling is installed in your souls in order for you to attain everything in another world and not to feel sorry about anything.

Even if the human being was given the property of Karun, the wisdom of Lukman, the sultanate of Solomon, even if he took hold of the earth and what it contains, the heavens and what it contains, he would still say: Is there more? As if giving utterance to the meanings that the Divine Pen embroidered in his soul, he says: Such a property that I dream of can only be in another world superior to this one and in another realm that is suited to my wishes and that can satisfy my desires.

Similarly, the verse: Those are well-pleased with the present, worldly life, and are content with it (Yunus Surah, 10:7) also points to the fact that humankind must in reality be longing for and in search of another world finding no peace with the life of this world and condemns those who try to be satisfied with the life of this world.

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silverwingsandoceanthings · 5 years

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Headcanon: Idril and the Manipulation of Prophecy

‘I am still going through things very slowly, but there were some bits that I sort of wanted to talk about somewhere for a while and wasn’t sure how. I may at some point tidy this up, and I may also at some point make a seperate post looking at the instances of prophetic knowledge Idril had herself, rather than this. Which is using other people’s prophecies for her own ends.

Then I saw a reference to how in Greek Tragedy the heroes - and sometimes other characters - often are prophecised to do something, or know an event will happen, and seek to circumvent it. And they always fail, because they seek to avoid the prophecy via strength of will and a force of their own. And its as beautiful as it is heartbreaking, knowing they are bound to fail.

Idril... Doesn’t. To my reading it is pretty clear that she knows Gondolin will fall. Not might, will. Once she knows it will happen, she never seems to try to stop Gondolin from falling. What she does is take the knowledge that it will, then act to minimise the effect. Gondolin will fall, but I will make means for some to escape and live on.

(I tend to think she has known it will fall since Eöl’s execution, but that is a topic for another day. there’s a tldr on it in the tags.)

And now a cut, as I got carried away and we progress into ‘textually-inspired headcanon’ instead of ‘interpretation of text’. The TLDR: Idril was making plans to save the Noldor via circumventing the Doom of Mandos, using other prophecies to find ways to get a message to the Valar and make them feel bad, but in the end they were unnecessary as she fell in love with Tuor (who she needed to marry for it to work, and had resigned herself to a duty marriage without love so unheard of for an elf, but known to men), he with her, and he named the child what the child needed to be named without her needing to use her mother-naming to give said child such.

In FoG we get the following line, which becomes relevant to the rest of this brain-dump: ‘Know then that Idril had a great power of piercing with her thought the darkness of the hearts of Elves and Men, and the glooms of the future thereto - further even than is the common power of the kindreds of the Eldalië’ ie, not only does she have a talent for reading people, but also an understanding of how the future works, and given some of the other stuff going on in that text, actual prophetic dreams and visions and all that wonderful stuff.

She’s also 90% of the time absolutely in control of everything she possibly can be. And there’s a lot of prophecies and dooms and such floating around from other people, most of which I find it hard to imagine she would not have known about. Given her status, tendancies towards control and information gathering and knowing what is to come and all those things. Even if people did not approach her to say, she would do her best to keep herself aware of things. There’s three bits I sort of want to talk about, though there are a few more I am aware of that can contribute to this, these three sort of are enough to put it together.

Let us start, as things often should, with the Doom of Mandos. I’m not copying all of it. There’s also some other bits I now realise need to go into my braining on the execution thing, but aside. The bit I’m looking for here is: ‘the Valar will fence Valinor against you, and shut you out, so that not even the echo of your lamentation shall pass over the mountains’. Also all of the awful things it promises, but the specifics of those are unimportant. What Idril knows from this: the Valar have blocked them from Valinor, and if they try ask for help it will not cross the mountains. If the request for help were on the other side of the mountains, it would not need to cross them, but its a moot point if they cannot. Maybe uncle Finarfin might manage to bed help from the other side of the mountains, but he hasn’t yet so its not really feasible.

Second we leave the silm proper for a while, heading over to the Statute of Finwë and Miriel as found in Morgoth’s Ring. I’m never quite certain if it is part of Laws and Customs or not, but in it if Finwë can remarry is the point of the debate. With other bits involved. The section in question comes near the end, and involves the fact that ‘but Indis’ descendants will be amazing and she won’t have kids with anyone but Finwë so we she totes let her marry him’ (very tldr and absolutely not a direct quote). It mentions at a point that both elves and men will have a part to play in her descendants and also great deeds. Then we get this gem: ‘When he that shall be called Eärendil setteth foot upon the shores of Aman, ye shall remember my words’ (I have a whole other ramble about the rest of this section, but that’s not for here or now). Idril brain remembers this - there’s no way I can concieve of her not having been exposed to this report of great importance to both her family and legal history - connects it to the previous bit and goes ‘there is a pre-existing prophecy that a descendant of Indis, who is my great-grandmother, named Eärendil, will set foot on the shores of Aman. Not just be in Aman - setteth foot upon. That’s a pre-existing prophecy specifying someone who can break the fence. This person does not exist yet. But should I ever marry, I can make it so, then they can go beg the Valar for help. Given even Mandos seems to think this relative will be a good thing.

Third, and finally though there’s a lot more that could be used but I have things to do today, is the prophecy Huor makes as he tells Turgon to go and willingly faces down his own death: 'Yet if it stands but a little while, then out of your house shall come the hope of Elves and Men. This I say to you, lord, with the eyes of death: though we part here for ever, and I shall not look on your white walls again, from you and from me a new star shall arise.’ (I like to think that death prophecies from mortals are just a thing that happens sometimes, like pregancy prophecies for elves. Something about Mandos being both the guardian of the dead and also a prophet, but anyway this is one that exists canonically. Silmarillion-as-published canon even.) Well, that’s interesting. The Hope of Elves and Men comes from Gondolin, but is not there yet. I do not think at the point people get back from the Nirnareth and Idril would have heard this she would have the context for the new star, but a prophecy is a prophecy, and the prophecy speaks of unifying Huor’s line with Turgon’s. Well she is all of Turgon’s line left, and unifying is easiest via marriage. Luthien happened, so children of elves and men can occur. Presumably Huor has children (well his wife was pregnant at the time of the fighting but Idril wouldn’t have had the specifics there and already have a child seems like a logical conclusion). Which basically means, she has to marry Huor’s son. If she ever tracks him down. And have a kid. May as well make that kid the Eärendil from earlier - hope of Elves and Men is a little more than hope for the Noldor, but hey Noldor are elves and men are also affected by Morgoth. The plan just expanded to include more people.

They low and behold Voronwë shows up with him at the city gates not too long later. At which point the plan goes something like: get Tuor to marry me (hmmm might take work), have a child (hopefully easy enough once married), name the child Eärendil (mother names are a thing so that’s very easy to control), escape the inevitable fall of Gondolin (a lot of work, but we also have much more notice on that one), get the child from here to Aman (Ulmo will probably help out), make sure child is loud enough to convince the Valar to do something (that’ll be a problem but with good enough tutors...), congrats your people are now significantly less damned than previously.

Of course none of her manipulating the sitatution bar the tunnel in the end proved necessary in my headcannon as well. She spent the time between hearing about Tuor and meeting him going ‘right this is the man I will have to marry for the sake of the Noldor I must prepare myself mentally for the duty I have taken upon myself to fulfil the prophecy to save my people’ only to meet him and go ‘oh no he’s hot’ followed by ‘oh no he’s also sweet and adorable and I want to see him happy’ followed by ‘well I guess this isn’t so much duty afterall’. Then most of her pregancy going ‘why the fuck did I have a dream about seeing my baby with a silmaril of all things and beyond Arda of all places’ (See: the names of Finwë’s descendants in the Shibboleth of Feanor, Peoples of Middle Earth), and so forgetting to discuss with Tuor the fact the child needed naming Eärendil for prophecy reasons, only for Tuor to name him Eärendil while she was recovering from giving birth anyway. Due to something Ulmo said about a son who was good at boats. So in the end most of this was completely irrelevant anyway, and more than a little exasperating on the ‘I put in all this thought and effort then it just *happened* like this was the actual plan and I’m not trying to manipulate the situation’, but that doesn’t change the fact my Idril did it anyway.

#long post #headcanon #c::: idril #this can be pretty relevant to anyone dealing with Idril in Gondolin-era #as is the eol stuff I don't have spoons to write #but tldr: idril petitioned turgon to have mercy on eol and was troubled after his death basically until gondolin fell #because to her and depending on reading actually executing him was still kinslaying and so bringing doom on their heads #hence why as I write her there is a very big shift in her behaviour and how much she is willing to trust people with after that point #... I am rambling even in my tldr #do people like it when I ramble? is reading this entertaining to you? I hope so. I kinda like doing it but don't want to frustrate people

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burden2 · 6 years

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==>

"It is upon us... Sollux.."

She stands idle, her feet facing you much like her empty white gaze. Her horns twist and curl much like the corners of the wall in your apartment. You don't know where you are. You can see right through her torso and to the counter that is right behind her. The edges of the hole in her front still burning, much like how you remembered it on that day. To see her like this, lifeless, was still surprising. Even if this was how you first came to pity her.

"The final hour will dawn on us soon. You have once more failed us. But in doing so, you have brought salvation.. the same salvation you sought out from the beginning. A new life. Untold by what futures awaits it. But you already know this."

You swallow dryly, your presence is but a question to yourself.

"But the sacrifice at which you will pay.. will be far too much.. for we are now in a position to lose everything once more. Our destiny has already been set by our victory. Yet again, you have also seen this."

She takes a step and begins to circle you slowly. Her maroon wings fluttering every now and again.

"In fact, you have seen all of it, haven't you Sollux? Your powers. Your psionics.. you believe them to be gone, but even I know you haven't truly used them in some time."

You grimace at her, your self doubt growing.

"Your death.. You have also seen, time and time again.. yet despite it, your decision troubles you."

You squint and you're about to say something when she cuts you off.

"Why? It was never our duty to bring someone evil to the new session. Everything we had discussed about Alternia... It is real now. Vriska has far abused her luck to survive.. we both know this."

This time you manage to speak "AA.. I.."

"I left you in charge of safeguarding this world Sollux.. But instead you pushed all of your closest friends away. You are afraid that the death and destruction has followed you to this new universe..."

You close your mouth.

"It has." She finishes.

"You already know this."

You tremble as you take a step back.

"All of the ones you love, the ones you have met on this journey.. and even those you are destined to meet. All of them will suffer from the bad luck embedded into your being, for this is your burden to bear. "

You get on your knees. Her words are like hot rope to your stomach.

"It is the burden of the blind prophet Sollux. You will earn your stripes. One at a time."

You lower your head to look at the floor.

"There is little time left. For once.. even I cannot see what awaits all of us Sollux."

This time she holds out her hand to brush her fingers against your cheek. As she does so, the skin slowly blows to the wind as only her rigid bones press against the soft texture of your skin.

"You have thought about it long enough. If you know the outcome of your decision then why spend time avoiding it?" She whispers to you.

You pause for a bit and shake your head slowly.

"..As soon as I do it.. all of it.. everyone.. will be dead.. from my hand.. "

"It is inevitable." She fills in the pause in your silence.

"We have been through this before Sollux. Once it has been decided-"

"By what? Some program that a pupa made to win the biggest bulge measuring contest?! By some idiot little troll who didn't understand what the fuck he was doing when he tried to get Karkat NOT to run the program that would doom us?! Or better yet the laughable mistake of a hero you decided to strand here with nobody else.. on what planet did you think I could actually save anyone.."

"You had your friends-"

"But I didn't have you! Fuck.."

You both sit in silence as you only let your shaky breath and choked out sobs fill the room. You hated yelling. You have always hated yelling.

"You knew this would happen.. you knew.. I'm clueless... And lost... And I don't know what to do without you telling me. I tried to live for myself.. by myself... And all I did was hurt myself.. and hurt everyone around me.."

She lets out a small sigh.

"I don't know who I am anymore AA... I'm not lisp lips the hacker.. I'm not Sollux.. I'm not Furii.. I don't know.. I don't know who I am anymore.. "

After a couple of moments of breathing, her soft voice once again fills the air. She is gone but her warmth still surrounds you as her words echo in your head.

"Regardless of who you are. You know what awaits us all. Very soon your mistake will become a part of your legacy, a fact that has stemmed from your indecision."

But once again you already knew this.

It was only in your head briefly before you woke up.

#exposition #death mention #negative #psycholigical warning

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on-the-wings-of-hope-prose-en · 3 years

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Immunity

Hope dies last.

But how could have Gale hoped for anything right now, when the last hopes of the dying alive humanity were rapidly crumbling into thousands of tiny shards, precisely like the fragments of a broken mirror, in which it, humanity, in a moment of brief spiritual insight, was able to behold itself for a brief moment of its history?

Hope for salvation. Hope for earthly life. For the life after death. Is there one?

Today, by some kind of a miracle, Gale finally managed to get inside into one of the overcrowded churches, where divine services had been held without stopping for several months already. All over the planet, the temples of the three world religions have been crowded for a long time, during both day and night. Now, when the so glorified by earthly materialists science could not answer the challenge thrown by natural forces, people tried to find it in their appeals to the Gods.

Now, standing at a distance from the altar of the temple in the sea of other people pressing down on him from all sides and towering over them like a two-meter giant, Gale observed. He needed to understand what was driving these people now when they had almost no hope left to bear. What made them appeal to those of whose very existence this earthly life had made them doubt time and again?

Faith in the possibility of salvation? Fear of devouring nothingness that is opening its greedy mouth? Love for everything they have created – including the very nature that has become so deadly?

As for Gale, until the events of recent years, he believed only in science. It has been his holy grail for many years of life. It, with due diligence, observation, and long experimentation, was able to grant humanity an answer to any question and challenge... if you do not take into account the existence of a Higher Mind.

A sea of human faces. An ocean of emotions. A kaleidoscope of feelings. Raised either in prayers or silent threats, lowered in despair hands. Would anyone see them, would anybody hear this voiceless speech? Gale possessed no answer to this question that had been tormenting him for so long. The day of the answer has not come yet.

* * *

“Mining of antibodies. Participate in a volunteer program to test new vaccines. Earn pharmacoins. Give your answer to novovirus!”

A huge holographic billboard floated around the corner of the skyscraper right in front of Gale’s eyes as soon as he stepped out into the central square. Gale grimaced in disgust. The endless attempts to create vaccines will all die in vain. It’s never possible to accurately predict the shape of something that changes every moment of its existence.

“Virt-club “Pleasure”. There is no fear of death. There is life’s pleasure!”

A three-dimensional rainbow-colored hologram of a girl with her legs spread wide enlightened with neon-laser beams a couple of dozen meters away from Gale, sensitively and quickly reacting to the approach of a lone wanderer. No, he definitely doesn’t need to go that way. When the whole world is going straight to hell in front of your very eyes, there is no more time for pleasure.

“Life after death. Cryostasis. The latest military development. Call us right away!”

As if a living hologram of a man in a blue and seemingly frozen space suit waves his hand in greeting, inviting Gale to come to the next “saviors”. No. There is no escape from novovirus, there is no salvation. All the scientific researches of the best bio-geneticists on the entire planet were unshakable proof of this.

Novovirus. This pestilence had many other names, too. A new plague. Black Death. Reaper. Punisher. Wrath of God. Doom.

Being fueled by fear, the human fantasy gave birth to more and more associations. And more and more cases of infection and either mass death or mutation of people only fueled this hysteria of universal fear. What can the smallest virus do against a man who thinks of himself as the master of nature? Anything. Especially if there cannot be an antidote for this kind of poison.

The government records to which Gale had been granted access after he started working on the “Salvation” project contained a wealth of data on the primary localized cases of infection and their associated symptoms. South America. North Africa. Southeast Asia. First, second, third wave. Initially, the disease was considered to be a new type of malaria and didn’t gain significant attention – until the moment of a rapid surge in the number of infections across the entire planet. And all of a sudden the concept of a “mosquito bite” started looking not so harmless at all.

Along with the development and evolution of the virus, the symptoms also changed. Fever, chills, nausea, and vomiting were only the initial stages of the virus-induced disease. Then the infected ones started to cough up their bodily innards along with the blood. Then came the nerve paralysis and cardiac arrest. Genetic mutations followed their steps. And after them, human madness knocked on the door of omnipotent science.

The virus mutated rapidly, changing its protein-molecular structure within a matter of days. More and more cases, together with the accompanying symptoms, began to be recorded by the governments of many countries every few days. The entire civilized world was swept by a wave of panic. People stopped leaving their homes. Looting, arson, and street looting came into action. Many new “apocalypse witness” sects have raised their heads, each with her mad prophet and course. The quickly approaching collapse of social spheres threatened to plunge the entire world into chaos, hunger, and poverty.

Governments in numerous countries have made huge financial investments while trying to produce a life-saving vaccine. But what seemed so simple and routine at first to many scientific minds, stuck like an irresistible curse of a mad old woman-death on many groups of virologist scientists. The vaccines did not keep up with the virus mutations in the infected cells. And cell mutations inevitably led to the mutation of humankind. And this was so much more terrible than the casual and familiar conventional war – because in the flames and fumes of this new war for survival, the very concept of “man” was about to become the ashes of history.

Vaccines didn’t work. It was paramount to find different ways of salvation, locate it at any cost. Thus the “Salvation” project was born, uniting many of the best scientists around the globe. All they had to do was find another way to save humankind – even at the cost of the lives of thousands of infected people who had become new experimental material in underground laboratories, even at the cost of the lives of the scientists themselves. Everything for the scientific battlefront, everything for victory. And Gale desired to be on the edge of it.

* * *

Gale’s flycar roamed through the depopulated streets of the once-overcrowded metropolis, increasing and decreasing its altitude in violation of all the rules of multi-level traffic, rapidly obeying the commands of the machine’s artificial intelligence, soaring over the arches and billboards of skyscrapers, and diving into high-speed underground tunnels. But no people were willing to issue him fines.

Simon’s words were still ringing in his head. Uninfected one! One among hundreds of millions, one who somehow miraculously passed through the gates of this earthly hell and remained unharmed. A soldier with no signs of novovirus mutation delivered to the “Salvation” scientific laboratories.

A miracle? But science does not believe in miracles, science believes in experiments. And the relentless logic of science demanded that this experiment was to be carried out immediately for the sake of all the living. And if the life a new-found test subject it to be put at stake – it had to be done without the slightest portion of hesitation and remorse of unnecessary conscience. Agitated by the morning’s message that came to his audiovisor, Gale raced through the streets of deserted Chicago with his lips silently whispering prayers to the scientific gods only he knew.

* * *

“Good afternoon, Professor Gale. Simon is in his labs, waiting for you early this morning.”

“Thanks, Miranda. I’m just in a hurry catching up with him.”

“Looks like you have something really interesting planned for today,” their young assistant winked on her way, and after a couple of seconds disappeared around the corner of the sterile white corridor inside the underground laboratory complex.

Gale literally flew through the massive glass doors of the laboratory, almost breaking his forehead – all their outdated automatic opening system based on solar cells seemed to be too slow for him at that instant.

“Where’s the uninfected test subject? I want to examine him!” he shouted from the doorway.

“My, oh my, it must be no less than Professor Gale Newman himself, safe and sound! Did you pour a whole pack of nitro-coffee pills into yourself before the trip, so as not to fall asleep at the wheel at such an early hour?” Dr. Simon grinned through his mustache as he caught a glimpse of a colleague who had flown into the lab, while deftly adjusting his glasses with a free hand. “And Miranda and I were just arguing about whether you’d make it to us before sunrise, or whether you’d be completely put asleep by thoughts of a Higher Intelligence. Did mysticism get the better of you due to old age?” Simon said in a friendly tone, his fingers still working silently on the holo-terminal.

“Have you got a file on him?”

“The NSA transferred a piece of data this morning. Corporal James Cassle, Marine Corps. Participated in the rescue of civilians in Brazil and Venezuela after the outbreak of the pandemic wars. He was seriously injured by marauding gangs of mutated infected ones during the last operation. Received the Purple Heart Medal for battle wounds. He was taken out of the operation area and hospitalized in Seattle. This is all we know so far.”

“And the screening, how did he manage to pass the infection screening?!”

“After being extradited by helicopter from the infection zone, he was examined at a Seattle clinic. They confirmed this fact. The NSA reported that the local medics there literally dropped their jaws opened when no sign of novovirus was located inside his bodily cells, even in a latent state. You know – by today’s standards, this is something akin to a miracle.

“Have you confirmed the diagnosis with our equipment?”

“Not yet, only the general survey was conducted. He was delivered here just a couple of hours ago.”

“Simon, do you even realize that this may be our only chance to…”

“I clearly understand everything, Gale. Go ahead, he’s in the Alpha Bay right now,” Simon said softly, patting Gale on the shoulder, “Authorization code for today: Miracle”.

* * *

“Disinfection of the compartment is complete. Welcome back, Professor Gale Newman."

The voice of artificial intelligence, “Ada”, filled the sterile-white space of the Alpha Bay. As he walked in, Gale checked the protective functions of his tessa-suit once again and nodded in satisfaction. At the very least, this suit will protect him from potential physical aggression or infection for at least half an hour, if somewhere in the higher ranks a mistake was made with regards to the diagnosis of this notorious corporal.

“Do you have a habit of putting your guests in handcuffs these days, or is it just that I was so incredibly lucky today?" demandingly questioned James, shaking his huge cryo-cuffed fists in a show of force as soon as Gale entered the Alpha Bay, which served traditionally as the pre-interrogation cell.

A huge and strong one. Ones such as he usually tend to get away of troubles unscathed. Except for novovirus, perhaps.

“It’s for both your and ours safety, Corporal James. You are a very special case for us. But your true intentions and capabilities remain to be seen.”

“I hope it won’t take too long. My military command did not give me the order to go “awol” after the completion of my treatment.”

“You are within the borders of our responsibility here, with the NSA’s permission. Take my word for it, your commanders won’t have any questions concerning your temporary absence.”

“Is that so?” James leaned his beefy arms on the table and squinted at Gale’s face, his jaw working, “And to whom do I owe the favor of being invited to your party?”

“It’s thanks to your fighting skills, James. And your potential immunity to novovirus," Gale decided not to delay revealing his cards.

“Considering the so-called immunity – is it what your grandmother-midwife sang to you, or did a bullet suddenly fly into your forehead?” James chuckled bitterly and shook his head. “I have no immunities. None of us have. We are not the ones to decide the length of our own lives. Only the width.”

“Whether it exists or not remains to be seen. If the diagnosis made in Seattle is not confirmed – tomorrow you will be a free man.”

“Sure, great! That’s what I am going to do anyway!” James agreed abruptly, fixing Gale with his gloomy gaze. “Come on, don’t delay, your scientific majesty, I still have ordinary mortals to save from hordes of infected!”

“We were not the ones to develop this virus, James," Gale retorted, suddenly serious and edifying, “The virus is currently spontaneously mutating every day under the influence of natural forces that we don’t fully comprehend and…”

“Yeah, sure! Tell those who have been turned into animals alive about where the experiments on genetic material have led to in an attempt to create the desired vaccines! I saw with my own two eyes how the hordes of these madmen were tearing my fighters apart on the battlefield!”

“I understand your pain, Corporal, but our department has nothing to do with…”

“Be off with your lies, doc, or find a more attentive audience! What exactly do you need from me – blood plasma tests, cortical screening, a smear from the fifth point? Spit it out!”

“Nano-molecular cell screening. Observation of the reaction of cell membranes to the injection of viral molecular structures.”

“Simply put, you want to re-infect me with a new strain of novovirus and then observe with genuine scientific interest how long I will suffer in mortal agony? Am I missing anything from your plans, doc?!”

“If our tests are correct, this will be an attempt to develop a primary immunity to a new form of the virus.”

“Do I have any choice?”

“I am afraid you don’t,” Gale spread his hands, “until the test procedures are completed, you are placed at our direct disposal by your superiors.”

“More like being sold out.”

"However you desire to think of it. If you are ready, security will extradite you to the testing bay right now”.

“Then don't delay. I still have other unfortunate people to save from you and similar experimenters.”

* * *

Gale could not believe his own eyes. Over and over again, he rechecked the data coming from molecular nanoscopes, adjusted the scanning frequencies, and even rubbed his own eyes with bare hands. But the tools weren’t lying. The miracle lived on and did not intend to die out like misguided humanity.

The virus mutated, continuously rearranging its molecular structures, repeatedly trying to break down the protective cell barrier, to overcome the membranes separating it and the cells – and time and over again, as if an invisible and insurmountable wall stood in its way. These unsuccessful attempts of a newly created by nature bio-weapon to enslave and turn its next victim into a mad monster lasted about a dozen minutes. And then... then it finally came, a Miracle.

“Finish your experiments. You can see that, can’t you? I feel no fear!” James’ powerful voice ringed in the room.

He yanked at the inner levers of the terra-capsule he was trapped in with all his might, trying to free himself, but even his enormous strength wasn’t enough. And during that exact moment, the virus that had been trying to inject itself into the cells over and over again seemed to explode from the inside, rapidly disintegrating into hundreds of individual tiny molecules. It was as if a wave, invisible to both the eye or the instruments, had hit it, crushing, knocking over, and smashing to dust. The defeated micro-Goliath fell, and so did Gale’s glasses, hitting the lab floor.

“You... what… but how…”

“I am not afraid of you! Freedom!” James pounded on the inside of the terra-capsule with his powerful fists.

“Calm down... I just need to... readings…” continuing to fastly whisper something under his breath, Gale was rapidly pushing the keys of the terminal. “The reason for the disintegration of the viral structures… the impact of an unknown type of energy... the wave generated by the cell... I don’t understand!”

There is always room for wonder in genuine scientific discoveries.

“Cellular mitochondrial synthesis of unknown origin... Bipolar intracellular currents... But from where?”

“I am afraid of neither of your viruses, nor you nor anyone like you!” the violent impact from within caused a small dent in the outer surface of the terra-capsule.

“What... what did you just say?” Gale cast a confused glance at the prisoner who was struggling to get out of the capsule. “But this cannot be! If... only… A feeling! What kind of feeling did you experience a few seconds ago?!” Gale screamed in a frenzy of excitement that filled his entire being. “Please, James, repeat it!”

“Freedom! Life!” – another dent in the surface of the terra-capsule.

And the remaining viruses are scattered into molecular dust. Eternal – to eternal. Dust – to dust.

A feeling!

It was as if a new great revelation was descending on Gale at that very moment, breaking and overturning all the materialistic theories of the world, all the endless scientific skepticism and incalculable human stupidity in a single, unrestrained rush.

Spirit was prevailing over matter. The feeling was overcoming the disease. Fearlessness has become an immunity.

And this was echoed in unison by the laboratory devices that were going off scale from the waves of new-found energy.

“You are… free… to go," Gale Newman whispered helplessly, opening the capsule’s locking mechanism, “We are all free now…”

* * *

On this great starry night, Gale was once again flying in his now-adult dreams.

His spirit, freed in one fell swoop from the yoke of all materialistic prisons, was floating in this wonderful dream between seemingly absolutely real planets, moving like a great trailblazer starship on a hitherto unknown thrust. It was unspeakably calmly and joyful – as if wings had suddenly grown on his back.

And then an invisible warm wave lifted him and carried him somewhere high up. Two great figures, radiating with an otherworldly light, whose love for him surpassed any human love, tenderly took him into their enormous warm hands. They gently lifted his tiny spirit to their faces – and in that infinite moment, a wave of rapture and bliss, together with tears of joy, swallowed up his whole being…

“Blessed are those who weep, for they will be comforted…”

12.05.2021

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hg47 · 4 years

Text

47 Reasons Why I Fear Islam - (Reason 43)

-43-Since Islamic holy writings refer to Jews as apes who must all be killed before Judgment Day can occur, I think the following analogy is fair. Fundamentalist Muslims are like barking sheepdogs that herd moderate Muslim sheep in the direction the radicals want. Also, several Christian refugees from Iraq have mentioned to me in passing that Muslims in the Middle East treat their women like dogs. ++++------- http://www.washingtonpost.com/world/middle_east/egypt-frets-fumes-over-ethiopias-nile-plan/2013/06/12/d3ab3f4a-d1e1-11e2-9577-df9f1c3348f5_story.html?wprss&google_editors_picks=true Just when you thought things couldn't get any worse in Egypt: Ethiopia is building a dam which will cut off or drastically reduce Egypt’s water supply. ++++------- http://thelede.blogs.nytimes.com/2013/03/06/video-of-syrians-with-seized-u-n-vehicle-in-golan-heights/ An article about the kidnapping of twenty United Nations Peacekeepers in the Golan Heights by Syrian rebel fighters who denounce Assad as an agent of America working for the Jews. @hg47 says – The civil war in Syria is seen as a Big Lotto Paradise Party for mentally-ill Muslims or hard-core Muslims who have studied Islam carefully and who take its teachings seriously. If this battle can be rationalized as a necessary jihad against Infidels, these men may get an opportunity to die for Islam where they pop straight to Paradise, avoiding the fearful uncertainty of Judgment Day before their unpredictable angry God. This is why these rebel fighters are calling Assad “an agent of Zionism and America.” If they can rationalize the fighting in those terms, and just manage to off themselves during the fighting, “Paradise Here We Come!” This is also why the radical Islamist fighting groups are gaining ground as the most effective rebel fighters: their Muslim fighters are actually hoping for death, they are eager for death. This puppy may have started as a peaceful protest against Assad. It has evolved into a ladder to Paradise. (Zionism is the Muslim word for Judaism when Jews don’t know their “proper place” as inferiors subject to Muslim dominance. Muslims also have a term for the United States while we refuse Muslim domination: The Great Satan.) ++++------- A quote from Hasan al-Banna, a founder of the Muslim Brotherhood: “Israel will exist and will continue to exist until Islam will obliterate it, just as it obliterated others before it.” ++++------- tweet ~ Muslims recite anti-Semitic & anti-Christian rhetoric at least 17 times a day, and over 5,000 times every year. ~ verify at: http://wikiislam.net/wiki/Muslim_Statistics ++++------- http://www.investors.com/NewsAndAnalysis/Article/568999/201104131804/How-Free-Israel-Prospers-As-Islam-Remains-In-Dark.htm Chuck Devore puts forth the stats on the Success of Israel and Judaism, compared to the Failure of the Muslim world and Islam. Here’s one interesting stat: The Arab and Iranian world produced about one patent per year for every 3 million people, compared with Israel’s output of one annual patent for every 5,295 people; 568 times that of Israel’s neighbors and sometime enemies. ++++------- http://www.haaretz.com/print-edition/opinion/radical-political-religion-will-soon-shape-the-mideast-1.340271 An article analyzing how radical Islam has won in Egypt, and is winning everywhere else in the Middle East also. @hg47 says – Demographically, Israel is doomed in this Century unless it evicts its own citizens who are Muslims, which it can’t do. Or can it? My hope is that the Jewish people in Israel will do what is necessary for Israel to survive, and if evicting enemies in their midst is part of the equation, so be it. I approve. And I understand. There is actually a precedent, should Israel choose to evict its Muslim citizens, and change the essential nature of its government. Saudi Arabia forcibly removed or killed all non-Muslims within their land, following what their leaders perceived as a command from their Prophet. Naturally, the Saudis kept all the Infidels’ property and most of their women as slaves. Now, Saudi Arabia is pristine. Pure. Jews and Christians may visit some parts of Saudi Arabia, but are restricted in what they may bring into the country, and how they may behave, and where they may go. The Israelis would probably be much more civilized about evicting the “civilian” enemy Muslims in their midst, those who would love to cut the throats of these powerful Jews. ++++------- tweet ~ Christian Solidarity International has liberated 80,000+ Sudanese slaves taken captive by Arab Muslims. ~ verify at: http://wikiislam.net/wiki/Muslim_Statistics ++++------- http://www.huffingtonpost.com/terry-kelhawk/wikileaks-expose-cracks-i_b_789615.html Terry Kelhawk on how Americans are mislead by Islam; we think the differences in Muslim sects are trivial, but these differences are central and worth killing over. ++++------- http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/uknews/law-and-order/7897125/White-Christian-Britons-being-unfairly-targeted-for-hate-crimes-by-CPS-Civitas-claims.html Christopher Hope argues that U.K. prosecutors and police are unfairly singling out alleged crimes by white Christians, while discounting other similar offences by minority groups. ++++------- http://www.hudson-ny.org/1610/sharia-advancing-in-west Salah Uddin Shoaib Choudhury suggests that due to the nature of Zakat (Muslim Charity which is really “A Solidarity,” or an “I support you,” type of thing), that Sharia banks must inevitably divert funds into organizations promoting jihad and supporting suicide bombing, including Hamas, Hezbollah, and worse (from the Western POV). If these Sharia banking institutions do not secretly fund terrorism, they will not be following Sharia law. ++++------- A quote from J. ROSENBLUM: “On a Freedom House scale of freedom (on which seven is the least free) the median for Arab nations is 5.5. For the rest of the world it is 2.5. Whether it is child brides in Gaza, institutionalized selection of dancing pre-pubescent boys as mistresses by older males in Afghanistan or widespread clitoridectomy in much of the Muslim world, the media take a pass.” ++++------- A quote from Ahmad Ibrahim, a founder of Hamas, talking about Jews: “Six million descendants of monkeys now rule in all the nations of the world, but their day, too, will come. Allah! Kill them all, do not leave even one!” ++++------- http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/middle_east/7392235.stm Inside a Palestinian refugee camp @hg47 says - These interviews explain why there will never be peace in the Middle East—Palestinians are almost exclusively focused upon the destruction of Israel, and recovering lost Islamic territory, at the expense of their own lives and the lives of their families. There is a famous saying: If the Jewish people in Israel put down their weapons, within one week there would be no more Israel. If the Palestinian Muslims put down their weapons, there would be a prosperous State for them and their families within one year. (I used to believe this, but no longer: I now think the Palestinians have too much hate within them to ever be prosperous, no matter what; IMHO their hate has become their reason for being. They would be lost without their hate, and would have to find someone or something else to hate.) The Arabs are fighting a holy war: the quality of their own lives is irrelevant compared to defeating Israel. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ +Go-To-44+ +Go-To-Beginning-Of-47-REASONS-WHY-I-FEAR-ISLAM+

#islam

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DealBook: Is This the Next Leader of the Fed?

Good morning. Fears about the spread of the coronavirus whacked stock futures this morning — and led to the cancellation of Mobile World Congress. More on that below. (Was this email forwarded to you? Sign up here.)

The race to be the next Fed chair is getting interesting

Judy Shelton, who has been nominated to the central bank’s board of governors, is scheduled to testify before the Senate today.She is a contentious choice for the job, Jeanna Smialek of the NYT notes:• Ms. Shelton has questioned whether America needs the Fed at all.• She favors pegging the value of the dollar to something like gold, an idea the U.S. abandoned decades ago.• She’s seen as open to bending her ideological positions to please President Trump, eroding the Fed’s political independence.But she appears to be moving into a prime position to become the next Fed chair if Mr. Trump wins re-election, Ms. Smialek adds. The president has openly derided the current chairman, Jay Powell, and could well pick someone more in tune with him ideologically when Mr. Powell’s term is up in 2022. Washington speculation had focused on a different candidate for Fed chair: Kevin Warsh, who was on the central bank’s board during the financial crisis. Mr. Trump has praised Mr. Warsh before, but some wonder whether a strong performance by Ms. Shelton today would give her the inside track.____________________________Today’s DealBook Briefing was written by Andrew Ross Sorkin in New York and Michael J. de la Merced and Jason Karaian in London.____________________________

Is ‘Beyond Petroleum’ for real this time?

BP announced yesterday that it plans to be carbon-neutral by 2050, an ambitious target for one of the world’s biggest energy companies. What that actually means, however, is up for interpretation.The oil giant’s proposal is its latest climate-minded initiative, with a twist. Not only is the company seeking to reduce its own carbon emissions, it said, but it also wants to offset the emissions from use of the oil and gas that it produces.The proposal is more complicated than it looks. It has to do with the “scope” of emissions targeted by the plan: The bulk of pollution created by BP’s products are generated when customers burn the fuels, which are called Scope 3 emissions. BP’s net-zero pledge covers only its more direct operations, although the company plans to reduce Scope 3 emissions significantly.

U.K. regulators investigate Barclays C.E.O.’s ties to Epstein

Barclays disclosed this morning that British financial regulators have opened an investigation into ties between its chief, Jes Staley, and the late financier Jeffrey Epstein.The context: The two men had known each other since at least 1999, when Mr. Staley led JPMorgan Chase’s private bank, where Mr. Epstein was a client. The financier had helped funnel dozens of wealthy clients to Mr. Staley, and the two men stayed in touch even after Mr. Epstein was accused of sexually abusing scores of women.Mr. Staley has the backing of the Barclays board, for now. The bank said he had been “sufficiently transparent” about the nature of his ties to Mr. Epstein, and the C.E.O. said that he hadn’t had any contact with the disgraced financier since taking up his post in December 2015.

Mobile World Congress was canceled. Does anybody care?

Mobile World Congress, the annual jamboree for the telecom industry in Barcelona, was canceled yesterday over fears about the coronavirus outbreak. It raises an interesting question: Do these kinds of conferences matter?Last year, MWC drew around 110,000 attendees (including 7,900 C.E.O.s) from 200 countries. Cancellation of this month’s edition was inevitable, after major exhibitors like Nokia, Ericsson and Amazon pulled out over the past week or so.This presents a natural experiment in the value of industry events, seen by some as essential for networking and deal making and by others as price-gouging junkets. Thousands of meetings that would’ve taken place at MWC this year now won’t happen, which could have knock-on effects later in the year. (Or not.)The view from a veteran: We spoke with Ben Wood, a telecom analyst at CCS Insight in London who would have made his 23rd consecutive appearance at MWC this year.• For the companies that blow huge portions of their marketing budgets on MWC, “if you find that you can cope without going, and the costs associated with it, you may choose to deploy your resources in different ways,” he told DealBook.• That’s harder for small companies that rely on “serendipitous moments” with big buyers or potential partners wandering the halls of events like MWC, he added.No touching. In the meantime, conference etiquette will change. The organizers of a big tech event in Amsterdam now underway praised attendees for “safe greeting practices such as fist or elbow bumps.” Generally speaking, it must be said, handshakes are incredibly unhygienic.

Credit Suisse’s chief leaves on a defiant, awkward note

Tidjane Thiam delivered his final earnings call as the Swiss bank’s chief this morning, after being pressured to resign amid controversy over a spying scandal.He presented the growth in net income of 69 percent as the result of his changes in the structure and strategy at the company. “We’ve built something of quality, the numbers are coming through,” he said at a press conference.There was a notable moment of reflection on his uneasy tenure at the bank, notes the NYT’s Amie Tsang, who was listening in on the call. “There are differences within Switzerland in how people feel about me,” Mr. Thiam said. “Every second I’ve done the best I could. I am who I am, I cannot change who I am.”

How Marc Benioff sold Trump the trillion-tree idea

President Trump has openly dismissed climate change activists as “prophets of doom.” But Marc Benioff of Salesforce managed to win him over on one particular environmental initiative, Lisa Friedman of the NYT writes.Mr. Benioff pitched Jared Kushner, a top White House adviser and Mr. Trump’s son-in-law, about the initiative to plant one trillion trees to help offset carbon emissions. The idea eventually — and unexpectedly — wound its way into Mr. Trump’s speech to the World Economic Forum in Davos, Switzerland, last month.“Trees are the ultimate bipartisan issue,” Mr. Benioff told the NYT. “Everyone is pro-tree.”There are two lessons to draw from this:• Successfully lobbying Mr. Trump is an unconventional process that involves back-channeling with trusted advisers.• The idea of one trillion trees appears to have taken hold with the president because, as Ms. Friedman notes, “it was practically sacrifice-free.”

Jeff Bezos’ latest takeover: David Geffen’s L.A. mansion

The Amazon chief has continued his real estate splurge with two new acquisitions, according to Katy McLaughlin and Katherine Clarke of the WSJ:• David Geffen’s palatial Los Angeles home, which Mr. Bezos bought for $165 million — setting a record for the city in the process.• A plot of undeveloped land in the L.A. area, purchased from the estate of the Microsoft co-founder Paul Allen.They follow Mr. Bezos’ $80 million purchase of the top four floors of a Manhattan apartment building last year, reportedly with the goal of turning them into a gigantic pied-à-terre.It’s a windfall for Mr. Geffen, who bought the L.A. mansion — the former estate of the movie mogul Jack Warner — for $47.5 million in 1990.

The speed read

Deals• The parent company of T-Mobile reportedly wants to renegotiate the price of its takeover of Sprint. (FT)• The venture capital firm Battery Ventures has raised $2 billion for its two latest funds, which will focus on investments in enterprise software companies. (Bloomberg)• Meet the Korean hedge fund that scored big by backing “Parasite,” the movie that won the Academy Award for best picture. (Bloomberg)Politics and policy• Moderate Democratic leaders are slowly warming up to Mike Bloomberg as Senator Bernie Sanders becomes the front-runner in the party’s presidential race. (NYT)• Larry Ellison of Oracle is doing a rare thing in Silicon Valley: hosting a fund-raiser for President Trump. (Recode)• The Education Department is reportedly investigating Harvard and Yale over their sources of foreign funding. (WSJ)Tech• The Justice Department’s antitrust chief, Makan Delrahim, has reportedly said in private conversations that he expects a criminal antitrust case in Silicon Valley in the next few months. (Hollywood Reporter)• Read up on Mark Zuckerberg’s approach to crisis management. (Wired)• Britain plans to give its media regulator additional oversight over internet content. (NYT)• Huawei of China is said to be in talks to fund research into 5G wireless technology at the London School of Economics — for £105,000, or $136,000. (FT)Best of the rest• Massachusetts’ attorney general sued Juul yesterday, accusing the vaping company of buying ads on youth-focused websites to target young nonsmokers. (NYT)• The coronavirus outbreak cost Bernard Arnault his title of world’s richest man. (Fortune)• Charlie Munger on the world today: “There’s too much wretched excess.” (CNBC)Thanks for reading! We’ll see you tomorrow.We’d love your feedback. Please email thoughts and suggestions to [email protected]. Read the full article

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