#specified) and then sends him to the one person who could fulfill that wish and make him happy at the same time. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

theedgeexecutivecoaching · 1 year

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Self-Leadership Difficulty 6: The "Secret Sauce" of Powerful Executive Visibility

What is Executive Presence? I have actually found a great deal of confusion among executive coaching customers regarding real significance of this "buzz phrase." The means I like to specify it is: "a set of attitudes, behaviors, and also abilities which-when combined-send the right signals, affect others, as well as ultimately drive outcomes."

If you're an elderly leader, you no doubt already have some level of Exec Visibility. It's exactly how you have actually reached your existing level in the first place. The most appreciated individuals have Exec Presence in abundance-people like Nelson Mandela, Oprah Winfrey, as well as Richard Branson, among others. You understand when you have actually fulfilled somebody with effective Presence. You feel drawn to that individual as well as you intend to get in touch with him or her. Executive presence coaching

" However can you find out Exec Existence?" customers ask? Yes. As well as doing so boosts your self-leadership, reinforces your exec management brand, and also assists you advancement in your job. Want evidence about just how vital it is? According to a study of 236 senior execs, who make decisions regarding promos within their organizations, Exec Visibility makes up more than one-quarter of what they search for in somebody that is intending to reach the following level. [1] Many comparable research studies exist, all pointing to one end result: Executive Existence is basic for those that wish to get to progressively higher levels in any type of organization. And it takes strong self-leadership to remain familiar with and also show the details attitudes, habits, and also abilities needed to embody effective Visibility.

So, what can you do to establish effective Exec Presence? What's the "secret sauce"?

The Most Important Ingredient of the "Secret Sauce"

I think that underlying every facet of Executive Visibility is one core element: confidence-the outright certainty that you can do what it takes to do well in any situation. When you have confidence, you count on your own, so that-even if you're undertaking something new-you understand you'll have the ability to figure it out when you arrive.

Yet, many achieved leaders do not have the confidence they need to cultivate solid Executive Presence. One indicator of that: I've met a large number of leaders who experience the "Impostor Disorder." That's a term which defines high-achieving individuals who do not truly trust their successes. They are frequently terrified of being revealed as a scams, regardless of how much they have actually achieved. "I simply got lucky," they may say. As much as they desire a greater level of responsibility or a details promo, deep down they question whether they suffice to get it.

After that, there are other leaders like my customer, George, who allowed an obstacle to damage his confidence. He had 29 years of experience in the business world. For 27 of those years, he was a vibrant go-getter, moving up the ladder and also accomplishing terrific success every action of the way-not simply in his professional life, but in his personal life also. For the last two years, though, points had not gone so well for him.

He had taken control of a department that was brand-new to him, and also it wasn't carrying out well under his management. When we fulfilled, I could notice George's power. He was like a balloon that had actually been deflated. Executive presence training

" George, for how many years did you have significant success?" I asked him.

" Twenty-seven years," he reacted.

" And for how long have things been a little bit rocky?"

" These past two years," George responded.

" So, you have actually had 27 years of positive, ongoing successes, and also only 2 years-24 months-of less-than-positive outcomes. Is that right?"

I might see the awareness of this sinking in. "You're right-I need to keep that in perspective," George said. "I can't allow these past 24 months shadow an occupation and also a life that has gone so well. It's just a small portion of the entire."

George is an example of how rapidly self-confidence can fade if we're not mindful to support it. And once self-confidence fades, Exec Existence takes a hit.

Keep Your Self-confidence Degree Steady

If you take a stock of your successes and also exactly how they came about, you'll most likely acknowledge that it was definitely not "all good luck." Your talents, skills, as well as hard work are why you've accomplished success.

Right here's a workout to aid you look honestly at what you have actually done and also the skills you have actually established, while acknowledging what you think you really do not have. Make two columns on a legal pad or on your computer system, as well as on the left-side column, list your most important qualities. Do not quit including in the list until you've lacked high qualities and also skills (and also do not be humble!).

Then, in the right column, list the locations where you still require work. Be objective concerning what you could do better. When done, relax as well as assess the two checklists. If you're like the majority of my customers, I think you'll be surprised at the result, since we often ignore what we can do versus what we assume we can not do. (I appointed George this exercise, and this task alone offered him a lot more momentum than he 'd had in a lengthy while.).

It's vital to look at yourself the way others do, but it's difficult to see yourself with an objective lens. That's why it's so vital to getting purposeful feedback-and why I dedicated a whole chapter to that topic in my book, Leading YOU ™: The power of Self-Leadership to construct your exec brand and drive occupation success.

The single most powerful and effective workout I offer my customers is the task of maintaining a "Confidence Journal." It's straightforward: As you undergo your day, and you have an experience that either raises or decreases your confidence level, write down what took place and also why. Whether you are being challenged by a peer, find yourself on the getting end of a praise from the CEO, requiring to fire a person, or having a hard time to affect outcomes, see to it to stay objective, and also ask yourself: "What's taking place to my self-confidence today?" Go within and also find out just how the experience is affecting you. What's the context? That's included, as well as what's setting off the "boost" or the "breast"? What's actually creating those ups and downs?

Jot every event down, and provide your self-confidence level a score based upon just how you feel: 1 = Not feeling great at all, 10 = Feeling fully positive. Don't judge on your own as you write-just be objective. Separate psychologically for a moment, and end up being an objective press reporter of what's taking place inside you, noting what caused your shift in confidence.

Depending upon how many incidences you have, after a week or more of maintaining track, get your confidence journal, and try to find patterns. What do you see, fairly? As an example, it could be that your self-confidence level drops when you address very elderly leadership, yet you feel fully certain when dealing with and leading straight reports.

Or possibly you wrote: "When I'm handling peers over whom I have no straight authority, my self-confidence level declines.".

Or: "When I'm associated with a conversation in my location of expertise, my confidence is high, yet when I'm hired to discuss areas outside my division, my confidence is reduced.".

Some clients keep the journal for 2 or three weeks, while others like to maintain it going with two months or longer. It depends on you. As soon as you recognize the triggers that are creating confidence low and high, you'll then be far better able to preempt the triggers so that you can prevent confidence dips.

If you reinforce your Executive Visibility by doing this, you'll be much less most likely to enable a setback to reduce your belief in on your own. Keep in mind all of your achievements, and use them to keep you progressing, also when faced with a difficult circumstance.

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peralta-guaranteed · 3 years

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Romantic epiphanies are dope

At what point, though, had she decided that it was Jake of all people who would disrupt her calendar so completely, while also fulfilling the dreams she didn’t dare write down on it?

After all, if 11-year-old Amy had been asked to create a binder on her future husband - Jake would have not even been mentioned in the footnotes. If she could’ve wished for a partner back then, she definitely wouldn’t have specified that he had to be dorky and clumsy, constantly making bad jokes, living on a diet that would send any other person to the hospital for malnutrition, obsessed with action movies and cop heroics, spending his free time and money on the most useless things anyone could think of, and pranking and bothering her to his heart’s content.

-*-*-*-

On the evening of their engagement, Amy wonders about her own romantic epiphanies and what made her decide that Jake was the person she was going to spend the rest of her life with.

Read it on AO3

“What about you?”

The scene at Shaw’s bar had settled down a bit after the united ring of the squad had broken down into their own little groups as they always did. Gina was busy admiring Terry’s biceps from a corner booth, phone in hand as always, while he played a game of darts with Jake, who was shooting glances over to Amy every few seconds as if they had been apart for months again instead of just a few minutes. Charles was extolling the virtues of some new restaurant to Captain Holt, who definitely looked like he was preparing to leave ever since he’d stepped foot into the bar. Hitchcock and Scully were… well, somewhere, either asleep or eating, probably.

And Rosa was sliding onto the barstool next to Amy, a cocktail glass - Moscow Mule, her favourite, Amy had learned after literally a year of sleuthing - in her hand and a curious glint in her eye that didn’t quite fit the usually stoic face.

“Hmm~?” Amy gave her a quizzical look - she was not yet anywhere on her scale of drunkenness, still holding the beer she’d used to cheer during today’s round of toasts. She didn’t want to get drunk tonight - she wanted to remember it all, forever. The little diamonds of her wonderful new ring were shining just perfectly against the dark brown bottle.

“What about you, Santiago. When was your romantic epiphany? Knowing that you’ll say yes if he asks?” Rosa raised an eyebrow and schooled a more appropriate, serious look on her face. “Because let’s be honest, as sweet as Jake is, his’ was pretty lame. You do cross word puzzles like, every night.”

“Oh, I see.” Amy gave the label on her beer a good scratching, peeling off the edges slightly. “I guess-” she started, but nothing else came.

While Rosa usually enjoyed drinking in silence far more than anything, right now she was on the level of inebriated where she would actually let loose enough to, ugh, chat . And she wanted to chat with Amy, of all people. Well, she supposed, maybe that wasn’t quite so strange, considering she was one of her best friends. Actually, her best friend. Girl-wise, next to Jake. It was still a struggle to admit to herself that these two absolute dorks were far more than just co-workers to her, sometimes even more than just simple friends.

But Amy was still silent, staring at her drink as if it held the answer to everything (which it definitely didn’t if it turned her into Spacey Amy on drink 1).

“It’s fine if you don't have one, you know. S’not always like the movies.”

“No no, it’s just- it’s kinda-” The beer’s label was peeling some more, and the bottle was almost empty after another sip.

It was just kinda… the fact that Amy had always been split down two very different sides concerning marriage.

On the one hand, it had never really occurred to her. Her life plan, hanging proudly over her bed while she was living alone, now replaced by a movie poster of Jake’s that was luckily not Die Hard and the plan relegated to her little office corner, made no mention of it. She had plans for her career - many of them - and actually a few goals for her private life as well, to maintain a healthy work-life-balance as one should. But marriage? There had never been a date set on her wall for that. It was too risky, she’d reasoned even as a teen while drawing up her first plan. Unpredictable, since it involved a whole other person, and relationships couldn’t be planned and dated down to the day, which she hated to think about, and she wouldn’t have much time to date anyway if she was gearing up to be the youngest female Captain in NYPD history. And, if she was completely honest, it was sometimes too scary to think about as well - she knew she was a difficult person to be around, in some ways. Definitely difficult to handle as a romantic partner. What if she couldn't find a man willing to put in that work? And then see the dates on her calendar pass by, alone, or crying from heartbreak? No, marriage was not on her life plan at all, she’d decided at the ripe age of eleven in her pink and off-white bedroom while writing down all the big moments of her life to come.

On the other hand, it had always been an obvious yes. Having a husband, having a family - she could imagine nothing else, growing up with all her siblings, with her parents still being obviously in love with each other after all these years, with her tias and tios and abuelas and abuelos all around her. What would life even be like without that kind of family? Without people over at her place every holiday, without someone trusted by her side tag-teaming all the tasks and duties of everyday life, without that little group of people that she knew would always be there, would always be loving and caring for her the way she loved and cared for them. It was unimaginable. She’d seen the endlessly romantic scenes in films and read about them in her books, and while she was not easily impressed or swayed even as a teenager, she was definitely... expecting some of that in her own life. She wanted the romantic moments, the flashbacks to tell her children and grandchildren about, the beautiful proposal, the perfectly-planned wedding, the photo album of years and years together, of all the milestones a couple could have. Yes, marriage was definitely on her life plan, tucked into the back of her mind and ever present.

At what point, though, had she decided that it was Jake of all people who would disrupt her calendar so completely, while also fulfilling the dreams she didn’t dare write down on it?

Then again, that wasn’t Jake anymore - maybe it had been during their first few years as only co-workers, but he was constantly changing, growing up step by step, maybe a bit later than others, but definitely growing. He was always willing to learn, as much as he’d moan about it all. He was willing to get better, spurned on by competition, maybe, or by the desire to be the best -anything- he could be, not just best detective, but he was willing no matter the reason.

And then again, that wasn’t all that Jake had really been, ever - maybe on the outside, to the unknown onlooker, but not to those who really spent time with him. As careless as he was with his own health, he was always caring for everyone else in his own subtle and not so subtle ways. As ridiculous as his jokes and pranks were, he also knew exactly when they were not appropriate anymore, and he could lend a hand or a sympathetic shoulder just as seriously as he could stand guard for you if you needed a moment alone in the evidence lock-up. As much as he would boast about himself and throw jabs at everyone else, he would also turn into the ultimate hype-man for everyone on the squad at the mere mention of one of them failing or stumbling.

And if Amy had been given the chance to write a wishlist for the man she wanted to spend her life with at any point of her planning - that kindness, compassion and support would’ve definitely been on the top of it.

She realised she still hadn’t answered Rosa. Luckily, Diaz was exactly the kind of person who knew how to hold onto a weighted silence and give her all the time she needed without interrupting her. She simply sipped her heavy-on-the-vodka-please drink and waited.

“I don’t think I-” Amy started up again, realising that her beer bottle was now completely label-less, a small heap of paper on the bar counter next to her. “I don’t think it was one big moment, to be honest. I think it was a lot of little ones.”

“Like what, buying folders together to get his desk straightened out? The moment when he actually used a five-syllable-word right? The day he finally stopped mixing gummy bears with red vines and calling it ‘sugar bolognese’?”

“I know you’re making fun of it, but those were all milestones in their own way, okay?” Amy shot Rosa a little glare, which proved to be extremely ineffective against the other Latina’s taunting grin.

“But they weren’t the moments?” Rosa continued to poke her, turning her voice several octaves higher for the last words. “Where Jake turned into the knight in shining armour baby-Amy definitely used to draw into her diary?”

No, they weren’t. Sure, Amy was proud of Jake for all of them. But they weren’t the moments where she’d realised that this was it, that this person was her person. That there would never be anyone who loved her the way he did, and that she could never feel for anyone else what she felt for him.

She tried to think of something romantic, something big to throw back into Rosa’s face, make her stop the jokes and understand. Make her see that it wasn’t about the grand gestures or the perfect match that made Jake her one and only, as cheesy as that sounded.

They’d had many big moments, that was for sure.

When he went in front of the whole precinct here at Shaw’s to cryptically talk about how much just six days with her meant to him. When she knocked on his door to say screw light and breezy and his eyes lit up as if she’d just taken the weight of the world off of his shoulders. When he sat at the back of an ambulance, a bullet wound from her in his leg and the memory of Figgis’ gun still on his temple, and none of that seemed to matter because they were back in sync and he’d get to finally go back home with her. When he forfeited a bet, lost a collar and gave up his entire apartment for her happiness. When she was knee-deep in files at the precinct long after her working hours and her phone rang, an unknown number on the screen, and when she picked it up she heard his voice so far away and metallic and realised that he must’ve broken several rules and put himself into danger just to get a phone into prison to talk to her. When he spun an entire Halloween heist around today to get her to win it, all so he could give her that soft scared smile as she turned and saw him down on one knee.

Rosa knew about all of these. She’d witnessed them, or heard her drunkenly ramble about them during their weekly get-togethers. And they were all big moments, good moments, special moments she would re-tell to everyone who wanted to hear about her and Jake and their story.

But they weren’t all of it. They were the big plot points in their shared book of life, that was for sure. But they weren’t the kind of quotes she’d underline, the ones she’d write little notes into the margins for. The ones that made her love this book more than any other story she’d ever read.

Yet when she thought about those definitely underlined quotes that came up in her mind now, they all seemed so… trivial, compared to what you’d expect about romantic epiphanies.

Like the time she picked him up at the airport coming back from prison, when he leant back in his seat and took a deep, almost inappropriate sniff of her stupid little pinetree air freshener, telling her how unreal it seemed that someone could miss a smell like that, but that he’d longed for it for weeks now. That it wasn’t pinetree to him anymore, it was the comfort of Amy’s car, and their morning drive to the precinct when he was too tired to get into his Mustang, and Amy picking him up after a few hours too long working on a case, all wrapped up in one scent that he never realised he could miss. He was sniffing an air freshener, with his uneven beard scratching all over it, red eyes from an early flight and maybe a few tears they’d shed at the pick up area, and Amy was sure her heart could never ache as much for anyone else as it did for the tired man sitting in her passenger seat.

Or the time she’d come home from work on his first day off after they’d moved in together, expecting to see her prim and proper apartment turned into a slouchfest the way his old place had been. Only to realise that nothing had changed - safe for the take out containers next to the sink, which had enough left in it that they could share it for dinner. Only to realise that he had actually done all of the laundry, and folded all her socks and underwear exactly right, and even folded the fitted sheets properly, and put it all into the closet in the system she’d developed but never actually written down, because it came to her like second nature. Only to realise that meant that he’d watched her, every time she’d done it, to learn it all perfectly so he could do it for her. And she looked at him as he jumped up from the couch to heat the take out for her as she changed out of her work clothes, and realised that she never wanted to share her home with anyone else.

Or the time he’d first been invited to the big Santiago summer get together, and she’d stressed over it just as much he did, making information binders on her family and their quirks and their habits and what he could say and what he should absolutely not say. But when the party finally came, and he’d squeezed her hand so nervously stepping into the living room, he managed to remember every single brother’s, sister-in-law’s, niece’s and nephew’s name, made extra time for her abuela Claudia’s stories and waited for her tia Maria to translate everything someone yelled in Spanish for him, sat down at exactly the place on the table that would’ve secretly been reserved for him as a test, and slipped into dinner conversations and children’s games down at the lake as if he’d always been there, always been a part of her family. She watched him running from her nephews’ water guns and secretly rolling his eyes at her while talking to her brother David and offering his arm to her abuela Sofia on a walk the way he would usually offer it to her, and she realised that it fit so well because he should have always been there, that this spot in her family had always waited for him.

Or the time she’d started her period while staying over at his place for the first time ever, waking up to stained sheets and cramps and the rushing feeling of pure embarrassment, telling him she was so, so sorry and would buy him new sheets and probably better get home so she could deal with this and not bother him for the rest of the weekend despite the plans they’d made. And he’d simply gotten out of bed, rummaged through a cabinet in his bathroom and returned with painkillers, a hot water bottle, and a box of pads and tampons he’d bought after an awkward day at the academy when Rosa had lectured him about always being prepared for anything his fellow detectives could need. And he’d parked her on the sofa after she’d changed into one of his boxers, and the washing machine was already cleaning the sheets and her underwear, and he said be right back and returned from the bodega on the corner with ice cream and salt & vinegar chips and her favourite chocolate. And she looked at him as he sat down on the other side of the couch, remote already in hand to see what they could binge-watch this weekend, acting as if nothing was wrong and she hadn’t just completely inconvenienced him and weirded him out with her problems, and she realised that she hadn’t. That they’d been together barely a month and a half, and he was already so comfortable having her around that he was prepared for anything. That she could lay it all on him, without the fear of being embarrassed or rebuked as she had been with any other man in her life before him.

Or the time she cancelled what was meant to be their second date ever (after that awkward, chaotic, yet happy-ending first one) because she’d gotten sick. When he showed up that evening at her door, she’d been worried he hadn’t gotten her text (she was too stuffed up to speak properly on the phone, she’d realised when calling in sick to work). But he was wearing an old t-shirt and sweatpants instead of a date outfit, and carried a grocery store bag and a drug store bag, and then he made her take a bath with one of those cold-remedy bath salt sachets he’d found, and cooked her his mom’s sickly-soup (with store-bought matzoh balls, he had to admit, he never quite got those right), and let her pick any movie she wanted to watch while they ate their soup wrapped up under one blanket so she could steal all of his body heat. He’d been to her place as her boyfriend only twice before, but she realised as she snuggled into his arms under the blanket and blew her nose into one of the extra-soft tissues he’d bought that she’d felt so wrong being sick and alone at her home, that she’d subconsciously hoped he could be there to rub the vapo-rub on her back before she went to sleep that night, and that nothing felt more right than him already whistling in the kitchen when she woke up feeling slightly better the next morning.

They were all these little moments, these facets of life that barely even mattered to outsiders, that happened and re-happened several times a year. But they did matter, and they came into her mind every time her mom warned her on the phone not to be ‘too hasty’, every time her non-work friends asked her if she was really sure she was talking about ‘Peralta, the guy you used to moan about so much’, every time someone made a joke to Jake and her about her being ‘above his pay-grade’ or them being ‘an odd couple if they ever saw one’. It was these little moments that mattered so much more to her than any grand romantic gesture could, and that manifested in her mind that Jake was it, and always had been.

The bottle of beer in her hand was still label-less, but she noticed that it was also empty. She didn’t know when she’d transitioned into Spacey Amy, but looking up at Rosa’s face, seeing Gina next to her who’d apparently walked up at some point, she realised that she’d been talking, not thinking all of this.

“Daaaamn, girl.” Gina replied, but her voice was quiet, not even close to the usual mocking tone she’d take on for Amy. Rosa next to her was silent, blinking hard, and if she didn’t know her any better Amy would’ve almost believed she was fighting back a few tears. Which was ridiculous, because this was Rosa, and she’d only had six drinks, which brought her barely close to the emotional level she needed to even think about crying. Rosa’s drunk-scale started a lot later than Amy’s did.

Amy swept away a little tear from her own cheek while grinning awkwardly down at her bottle.

“Good thing that was one drink Spacey Amy and not two drink Loud Amy, huh?” She tried to joke, but Rosa only shook her head.

“Santiago, shit like that, you should shout from the fucking rooftops. Or at least into your fiancé’s stupid grinning face. Damn, I’m genuinely so happy for you two dorks, you’re so perfect. Don’t ever quote me on that, though.” Rosa had at least reached the swearing stage of drunkenness, the one where she’d wrap genuine emotion in as many rude words as possible to make it seem like she still didn’t care as much as she did.

Amy looked over at Jake and caught him looking away just as quickly. He’d been watching her again. He often did when he thought she wouldn’t notice, she’d realised that early on in their relationship. They’d be watching a movie, or hunched over case files, or simply hanging out at her kitchen counter nibbling on take away leftovers and discussing their day, and she’d look up and notice him almost flinching away. On the rare occasions that she woke up after him - once in a blue moon, when the night had been far longer than she’d planned, like tomorrow, probably - she would roll to the side and meet with his eyes, half-closed and shining and definitely, completely focussed on nothing but her.

It was almost unsettling to be the centre of someone’s attention like that, but in a good way. In a way that made her heart skip a beat, because she’d never expected to be anyone’s point of focus like this, ever.

Maybe, besides all the little moments and epiphanies, that had actually been the point of no return for her, love-wise - when she realised just what she was to Jake. Everything, he’d told her not just once during his more romantic moments, whispering in her ear and pressing a kiss to her temple. You’re everything to me, Ames, and sometimes I think you’re even a bit more than that.

“Hey.” She heard his voice next to her as he walked up from the long-forgotten dart board, where Gina was quick to jump in and challenge Terry to another round to see him flex his shoulders.

“Hey yourself.” She grinned back, one drink Amy still on the clock.

“Thought I should come over here to tell you something really important.”

“Oh, sure.” The serious tone in his voice made her steel herself almost as a reflex. “What is it?”

“I realised I’m absolutely, crazy in love with you. Is that okay?”

And there was this grin, this stupid wide grin she knew so well, that always looked a bit different when it was directed towards her than anyone else. Amy couldn’t help but laugh as she softly punched his arm.

“Yeah, you know.” She looked at the ring on her finger as she stroked over the space she’d only just hit. “I think that’s pretty okay.”

He leant down for a kiss, and they could both hear a gagging sound from the side.

“Knock it off, Diaz.” Jake shot Rosa a fake-angry look. “You’re not allowed to make fun of us today.”

“Alright, alright. I don’t need to watch it, though.” Rosa stood up from her bar stool, only to punch Jake into the other arm, definitely stronger than Amy just had. He grinned at her nonetheless, knowing full well that was as close and emotional as a tight hug would be from his old friend.

“Better take your fiancée home before she turns into two drink Amy, though. Think you’ve got some stuff to say that shouldn’t be heard from the whole bar.” She grinned again before walking off to beat both Gina and Terry at darts.

Jake followed her with his eyes before smiling back at Amy.

“My fiancée.” He repeated, and she could see how strange the word still felt in his mouth, strange and new and absolutely joyful.

“Your future wife.” She smiled back, and it didn’t sound strange at all. It sounded perfectly right. Because it had always, always been.

#B99 #Brooklyn 99 #Peraltiago #Jake Peralta #Amy Santiago #fanfic #my writing #my Q needs no more vowels

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incorrect-ikevamp-quotes · 4 years

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Hello yes, could you elaborate on the Comte wedding event pleease. Crying and fangirling and dying are all acceptable. I missed it and I adore your rambles about Comte? Thank you either way.

!!! I’d be delighted to!! And awww, I’m so glad :D I love to write about him in any capacity, it makes me so happy to know people enjoy it when I do! Tysm for the full license to cry/fangirl/die because lbr it ain’t a Comte event if all three of those things don’t happen .Please don’t worry, I don’t mind talking abt it anyway! 💕💕💕

Okay my fellow Comte stans, you know the drill! I’ll be placing the details of the Wedding Story Event (jpn version) below the cut! Please don’t read if you want to wait for the official translation, and I hope you enjoy if you do take a peak! c:

AIGHT Y’ALL in fair Verona where we lay our scene-- This event begins on a lovely summer day with Comte and MC at a boutique picking out a wedding dress for their upcoming ceremony. As usual, she provides a bit of background as to how we got here. Comte doesn’t have a proposal event (as far as I know) like the other suitors because he actually proposes marriage in his MS. I won’t go too far into details just in case, but they essentially swear their love to each other in a church at night--just the two of them. (I’m not 100% sure, but I think this event takes place on the anniversary of the vow that they shared, what Comte called becoming “a vampire’s bride.” Yes it’s as hot as it sounds AND I LOVED IT). Now, despite their private promise to each other, Comte does specify that he fully intends to have a public wedding whenever she feels comfortable doing that. As such, this event is picking up from there.

With all the nitty gritty settled, it’s time to get to the fun bits. So Comte is weaving in and out of the dresses, trying to find the perfect one for his beloved. MC is equal parts exasperated but amused, and she notes that it reminds her so much of when she first debuted in high society (reference to the beginning of Comte’s MS). Back then, when she agreed to debut, he told her that he would immediately send word to his tailor to make the necessary preparations. It’s a kind of nostalgic moment; she remembers how thorough and excited he was (”I’ll be sure to show off your every charm”), and he’s effusing that energy in the boutique too. Eventually he settles on two of them and requests that they both be prepared, and MC sputters. She’s like Comte???? W H Y we only need one dress???? And he insists that, since it’s a special occasion, there’s no harm in it is there? He also goes on to say that it is in line with her culture’s tradition of “dyeing the bride in the husband’s colors.” MC shoots back that the tradition doesn’t entail several wedding dresses for the bride, but he pays the correction no mind. Y’all. I loved this part because it just emphasizes how much of a LIL SHIT he can be. Like he’s 100% harmless but I was like BOI IF U DON’T--I WILL KISS UR CUTE FACE. YOU STOP THAT.

I find it interesting especially because it remains in line with a trend about Comte that is so arresting for me, something that I find so endearing about him. I’ll note other places in the event I find it, but in this moment he is revealing something critical: for all of his capacity to play with the language and expectations that other people have/use, he only ever uses it for good. Here he’s purely being playful (with a stark note of respect and awareness); he has no intention of overwhelming her or undermining her cultural expectations of what a wedding means. Especially because MC, even in her monologue, isn’t truly upset--she honestly seems to find it adorable and funny more than anything. It’s also clear that Comte is working within her comfort zones. While he would buy the entire damn boutique if she let him, he settles on two because he knows it would stress her out otherwise (MC tends to be p pragmatic, not really about extravagance she is a mood).

And so they make their selection and exit the boutique, and they’re walking arm in arm back to the carriage. Comte laments narrowing it down to only two, but he’s happy they found something nice. MC thanks him for bringing her along, but he says it’s only natural--he wanted to pick out the dress the world would see together, he would never be happy with it otherwise. MC melts (WHO WOULDN’T) and says she’s really looking forward to wearing them, and he’s shook AF.

(OKAY BUT I NEED TO SCREAM ABOUT THIS. DOES HE UNDERSTAND HOW TOUCHED I AM. DOES HE KNOW. His route hammers home this idea that for Comte, being with someone absolutely means being on the same page. It means being there for each other yes--but it also means making sure the other person feels wanted and included. He could have so easily just picked his favorite and been like “yeah this is what we’re going with.” But not only does he not do that, he refuses the very idea of a ceremony without it. He wants this to mean something for both of them, and he’s more than willing to put in the time and effort to ascertain that. I’M FUCKING TENDER OKAY. HE CARES SO MUCH AND I SOB)

He asks her if there’s anything else that she really, really wants for their wedding, and she thinks it through. It’ll be a reasonably sized wedding, with the men of the mansion in attendance and most of their closer high society friends. They’ve picked out a dress, the venue is set, the people closest to her will be there...she really can’t think of anything else? So she asks him if he has anything he really wants to do for the wedding, and he replies in the negative too, saying that “My only ideal wedding can be one in which I can see you at your most happy." ARE YOU KIDDING ME--Before MC can recover from that, he goes on: "Even now, I'm enjoying the preparations, and I want to do whatever I can for you." MC feels like she can never win against his sweet affection, so she nearly kills him with her answering line: "It’s more than enough. More than anything, being able to swear our love together again--to renew our vow--is the best part of it all." Comte is visibly shocked and is quiet for moment (MAN DOWN!!!!!!!!! VAMPIRE DOWN GET THE DEFIBRILATORS!!!!! LEONARDO PUT THAT LIGHTNING ROD AWAY I SWEAR TO GOD--) before he just replies with a “Is that so :>>>” And translating this nearly killed me [At the sight of his gentle smile, I smile back.] IM GOING TO SCREAM THEY ARE JUST SO TENDER IM SOFTE????????????

As they’re walking, Comte asks MC to tell him about weddings in her time. What were they like? He wants a reference point. She goes on to describe how ceremonies really range from formal to more informal affairs, and gets to a little custom that’s apparently held in Japan. When a groom intends to marry a bride, he will go to the bride’s family to ask for their approval. Comte visibly seems concerned about it, and I’m pretty sure he feels bad denying her that experience; not only did he propose to her without knowing any of that, her family isn’t within range to be able to honor it properly now. Even so, he keeps listening and comments now and again with a great deal of interest, paying close attention. He asks, what happens if the groom is rejected by the family? MC goes on to say that it’s a kind of test of perseverance: the groom is expected to ask/prove himself until he gets an answer in the affirmative. Internally, she notes that such a thing rarely ever happens irl--it’s mostly dramatized in movies and TV shows. She used to dream of how thrilling it might be to have someone do that for her, but it was mostly just a silly little fancy, nothing she was obsessed over. Comte, being a literal fucking legend, senses this emotional shift in milliseconds, and starts musing about something. When she tries to ask what’s up, he’s like not to worry leave everything to me.

PLEASE CUE THE CIRCUS MUSIC. BECAUSE THIS IS ABSOLUTELY GOING TO TURN INTO A CLOWN FEST.

So it cuts to them back home and Comte is asking Sebastian to give MC’s hand in marriage. Sebastian is utterly bEWILDERED and is like “I mean I understand I’m probably the closest relative she has right now but also WHAT!? YOU’RE MY BOSS/LORD I’M YOUR BUTLER FOR CRYING OUT LOUD”. Comte 100% is undaunted by this very normal reaction and insists that class/status has no place in matters like this, and Sebastian and MC are desperately trying to stop him from bowing his head/kneeling. MC notes she never expected him to take it to heart, tells him "Comte, you really don't have to go that far, it's a custom not a duty--" (IT’S SO FUCKING FUNNY????? YOU CAN FEEL THEIR MOUNTING CONCERN AND I CAN’T BELIEVE COMTE WAS STRAIGHT UP JUST “i am not above begging” AND THEY’RE LIKE YOU SHOULD BE YOU SHOULD BE ABOVE BEGGING)

The circus only escalates when Leo comes in LAUGHING HIS ASS OFF "damn...bahahahhahahaaaaa now THIS oughtta be good/interesting." MC (and I simultaneously) start yelling at him and he replies "What? Comte's already ready and willing, why stop him?" For whatever reason, this gives Comte an idea (NEVER A GOOD SIGN) and he’s like you know what? That’s actually perfect, get everybody in here I’m gonna ask them for permission too :D

Several things I want to say about this. 1. COMTE LITERALLY DOES NOT EVEN REACT TO LEO’S MOCKING HE JUST “omg ur face was useful for smth for once this gives me an idea” 2. META TIME. First and foremost, I seriously can’t deal. This man knows MC has nothing because of her traveling through time, no friends or family--he’s always so, so aware of what she’s sacrificing to be with him. It is never outside of his thinking. Not only does this decision solidify her presence as a member of their family (I’m just so UGLY SOBBING about the fact that he does not consider them all ANYTHING LESS--THEY ARE HIS CHIRREN AND HE LOVES THEM AND I’M SOFT) this is also such a brilliant, strategic move on his part. Not only is he doing this to fulfill her younger wishes of having someone be so confident in their love for her that they would insist on it in front of her family/loved ones--his doing this also solidifies her presence as his wife within the mansion from here on. There can be no mistake; this is an unquestionable statement as to how her identity has shifted in meaning, a powerful allusion to his possessive streak. (and WE LOVE THAT FOR US HELL YEAH)

Furthermore, I continue to be fascinated by the way he keeps subverting traditional or expected forms of supplication. While many could see this as a yielding of his pride (and in some ways he undeniably is) this choice to acknowledge her culture’s customs yields much more valuable dividends for him. 1. MC--notorious for never betraying the things she wants, having trouble asking for anything--is have her dreams fulfilled even if they were just silly little fantasies from when she was young. He’s actively making her happy, and he gets to openly gush about how much he loves her (FOR HIM THIS IS THE DEFINITION OF A WIN-WIN YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND--) 2. This is a way for him to make amends and do proper respect to the marriage customs of her place/time, and that’s infinitely important to him. He’s trying to set a precedent; that even if he ever does make a mistake or neglect something (even if accidental) he will do his utmost to make it right, pride and money be DAMNED.

While it can be argued that he’s just being silly and over-the-top, when you look closely this is 100% a clever, very mindful approach to their future. While it may partially have been executed on an emotional/excited whim, he is also claiming MC as his own in the most clear and respectful way possible. And tbh that’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen

So, after Leo walks in on them everyone else starts filing in one at a time (OKAY YOU CAN’T CONVINCE ME THAT THEY WEREN’T ALL HUDDLED UP TO THE DOOR SQUIRMING TO HEAR WHAT WAS GOING ON AND AT SOME POINT LEO SAID “omfg i gotta see this dumbass bitch on his knees” AND BLEW THEIR COVER/MADE THEM EVEN MORE CURIOUS):

Jeanne: "It's so noisy in here."

Mozart: "What's going on?"

Comte: "Ah, excellent timing. I want to get permission from everyone."

Vincent: "?????? Did you do something wrong Comte?? What could you possibly need forgiveness for?"

Isaac: "A mistake made/wrongdoing by Comte?...Why am I dreading what it could be..."

Dazai: “Ah yes, yes I see, you are asking for a young lady's hand in marriage” (IM WHEEZING BC EVERYONE ELSE IS SO LOST AND HE'S JUST 100% ON THE BALL KNOWS EXACTLY WHAT'S GOING ON THE NARRATIVE DISSONANCE IM CRYING)

Theo: Young lady??? The hell are you going on about

So things are getting increasingly chaotic and MC is just [jfc this is getting out of hand, Comte they don’t even know what you’re asking them to do]. She tries to explain but falters, and Comte puts an arm around her--signals that he’ll give them the context. So he tells them "You all know that our wedding day is approaching. As such, I'm asking you all for your approval in taking MC as my bride. No matter what happens, I promise to make her happy forever--for every moment, every second of our time together. Please, forgive my taking her" (WHEN I TELL YOU MY HEAD WAS IN MY HANDS IDK HOW MC DIDN’T DIE ON THE SPOT S I R. SIR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) MC: [...Comte...My heart melts at his confession, at his earnest plea. It feels like every single iota of our feelings are infused in every word he speaks, teeming with the love shared between us in overwhelming measure.]

For a little while silence falls until Napoleon speaks up, and honestly? It was so sweet ;-; I tear up every single time: “Forgiven. You know how much I dislike formalities anyway. And besides, who could say no to le Comte?” MC notes that everyone murmurs in agreement and a kind of warmth settles in the room. Arthur notes that MC will be a Comtesse very soon and MC just. I’m going to be a WHAT now (”C-c-comtesse??”). And it’s so FUCKING FUNNY YOU CAN FEEL THE RED EYE EDIT MEME ON COMTE WHEN HE GOES “Oh? Is there anything wrong with that? Everybody said yes, after all :>” MC internally accuses them of ganging up on her, but reveals that more than anything she’s a little overwhelmed by the outpouring of love in the best way:

MC: [Overwhelmed with feeling; touched, a little shy, embarrassed, but also full of joy--my eyes burn at the edges with tears] “I'm glad everyone approves c:”

Comte: Agreed :> your country/homeland has a nice custom. A v important step to inviting my loved one into my life as my wife :>>>>

So it then cuts to them in Comte’s room after the circus and MC thanks him for the sweet confession in front of everyone, tells him how happy it made her. He insists that it was only natural he would, and that it isn’t even enough.

Comte: “I am the one...your life, your time as a human being; I'll be taking all of it from you.”

MC: [...Comte? He took my hand with a very serious expression]

Comte: "As I said before, I will make you a vampire someday."

MC: “Don't call it that--a price. I want to live with you too!”

MC notes that while she hasn’t made the leap yet, she knows she’ll be ready for it soon enough.

Comte: “Thank you. But the last thing I want is to take things from you, I want to do everything I can to make you happy, to make you smile. Whether that means weddings, requests--anything in my power.”

COMTE REALLY SAID "she is entrusting me with her future and that means I have the responsibility of not only ascertaining her happiness, but proving my unwavering devotion to it" AND IM HOLLERING????? LADIES GET YOU A FUCKING MANS. MC finally begins to understand this, and she’s like OMFG is that why you went off so hard this afternoon???? And Comte’s like :>>>> guilty as charged, though I think I'm also just still excited about the wedding too, haha! They hug it out (YESSSSSSS LET ME H O L D) and MC asks him again if there’s anything he wants for the wedding too. Aight y’all I would be irresponsible if I didn’t warn you beforehand, get fucking tissues. I’m still upset abt his answer and I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL. He thinks about it for a bit, before kissing her forehead and saying “I suppose, can you pray for my happiness too? That's enough."

AIGHT IMMA GO BACK TO THE EVENT IN A SECOND BUT I GOTTA SAY. BITCH. BITCH ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME????? COMTE THAT ISN’T OPTIONAL THAT’S A GOD DAMN PREREQUISITE?????????????????? OFC WE WISH FOR YOUR HAPPINESS WHAT THE FUCK??????????????? THE A U D A C I T Y. I’VE NEVER BEEN MORE INSULTED IN ALL MY LIFE. OKAY RANT OVER.

MC is surprised but naturally agrees to it, having wanted that for him even without prompting. She continues to think on it, insisting that she wants to do something for him too. An idea sparks but it only says that she made preparations without telling him anything for now, preparing a tangible sign of her love for the wedding.

The premium end begin here. She’s getting dressed for the wedding, and she’s--as usual--in awe of his perfect selection of accessories/jewelry to go with the gown. She’s about to put on her shoes when she notices something odd, and there’s a knock at the door. Comte enters to ask if she’s ready, and they both freeze and stare at each other. They both sheepishly admit to being completely taken with the sight of the other, and they laugh about it together. Comte tries to ask if she’s ready again, and she assures him that she is--just that she found something unexpected in her shoes.

He explains that the coin is an English six pence. Sebastian told him that they are no longer made in her time, and Comte explains he acquired it about three hundred years ago in England when he was living there (he says that he kept it back then because he liked the design on it). He explains that there is a tradition, that the English would put a six pence in a bride’s left shoe in the hopes of wishing her good fortune and prosperity in her oncoming union. MC has her understandable and customary (JESUS I FORGET HOW OLD THIS MAN IS SOMETIMES) and he places a hand over hers that’s holding the coin when she starts staring at it.

Comte: "Hey, MC....Time goes by, and various things will continue to change. Among them, it is only vampires who survive without dying or changing."

MC: "Comte..."

Comte: "I used to think that made it--made us--empty. But...I don't think that's the case anymore. I'm proud of being able to keep this undying, unchanging love for you."

[He put the coin back in my left shoe, and offered them to me--gentle as though they were made of glass(Cinderella's)]

MC spends this exchange on the verge of tears, but keeps it together for the wedding. It depicts their loved ones all around them as they walk down the aisle, and skips to the end of the ceremony. The priest tells Comte he may now kiss the bride (WHEN I WAS TRANSLATING IT SAID “KISS YOUR BUSINESS” AND WHEN I TELL YOU I WHEEZED), but just as he’s about to lift her veil--she stops him in his tracks. He’s confused, and says her name, but she reassures him that she just wants to offer him a wedding gift before he lifts it. Hidden in her bouquet are two pins that she had made, and she pins them to his jacket. They were made from preserved flowers, encased in metal to render them undying/everlasting.

MC: [Me too...I want to wish for your happiness...]

MC: “For you, things might feel fleeting--like they just pass you by, are lost before you can grasp them. But even so, my feelings won't change; just like this preserved/undying flower and the life of a vampire--dedicated to [Comte's real name] in everlasting love."

COMTE.EXE HAS CURRENTLY SHUTDOWN. REBOOTING.

MC notes that his eyes get misty and he leans his forehead against hers.

MC: [Comte's real name]?

Comte: .................I want to hug you as tight as I possibly can, but I'd hate to ruin the flowers/your gift to me

BITCH WHEN I TELL YOU I SOBBED. WHEN I TELL YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 1. I CANT GET OVER THE FACT THAT HER GIFT IS NOT ONLY CANON BUT ITS LITERALLY ON HIS WEDDING SPRITE, HER LOVE IS A VISIBLE MANIFESTATION ON HIS PERSON ALWAYS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 2. THE FACT THAT SHE ONLY ADMITS TO BEING THE HAPPIEST SHE CAN BE WHEN SHE SEES HIM SO HAPPY TOO. THIS IS SO MUCH. SO M U C H

And so Comte lifts her veil and kisses her gently uwu cover ur eyes chirren, the hall erupts in raucous applause and the crowd starts congratulating them!! Comte then encourages everyone to have fun, and the reception takes on the vibe of a kind of social gathering. MC notes that he seems to prefer this level of interaction, just relaxed and everyone chill, and she turns to tell him that it seems like it’ll be fun! Before she can finish her sentence, he kisses her fiercely before leaning back with a sigh, "It's still not enough, but I'll save the rest for later tonight." BITCH!!?!?!??!??!? HOW THE FUCK CAN ANYONE FOCUS ON A STUPID PARTY WHEN YOU SAY SOMETHING LIKE THAT, HELLO???????MC notes: [Everyone from the mansion that saw the kiss made fun of me endlessly, and I hid my face in my bouquet] SAVE HER. Once again, it skips to the end of the reception and they’re now in Comte’s room. (I will blink twice if I think you need tissues BLINKS TWICE)

Comte: "Yup, perfect." [He places the flower pins I gave him next to THE hourglass in the room, looking pleased HNGNNGNGNNGGNGN MY EYE HOLES ARE SUFFERING

MC: "I'm glad you liked the gift c:"

Comte: "It is proof of your unchanging love, of course I cherish it :>"

She’s just so happy to see him so delighted with it. He asks how she liked the ceremony, and she gushes about how much she loved it. He hugs her (AWWWWWWWWWWWW) and then he notes that while it was fun to celebrate, all he wants now is time with his wife (AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA). He starts kissing her like the world is ending, and she says she needs to get changed--but he doesn’t care, says she’s fine as she is and that he wants her right now.

Aight usually I don’t get into epilogue territory, but honestly, this shit was JUST too good. Now this man made of magic asks MC if she’s wearing her bridal garter (you know, the one that usually comes with the whole bride ensemble in Western tradition). And she’s like ???? Uh, yeah, of course? Why... He says that he saw something interesting at a friend’s wedding reception once upon a time, and explains that the garter is usually removed and thrown to the bachelors (analogous to the bride’s throwing her bouquet, and whoever catches it will be the next to get married). PLEASE NOTE HE IS KISSING HER FOR LIKE 90% OF THIS IT’S AMAZING

MC: "So it's like the bouquet toss?"

Comte: "Yes. Now then, how did he remove the garter...?”

HE DUCKS DOWN AND SHE’S LIKE COMTE!?!?

Comte: “...Ah yes, the groom removes it with his teeth >:D”

And so this man HAS THE TIME OF HIS LIFE tugging it down slowly under her dress, caressing her legs and loving every part of her. MC’s face is on fire, and she’s torn between being turned on and embarrassed. Eventually he reappears after teasing her MERCILESSLY and admits that he didn’t do it at the reception because he didn’t want anyone else to see her reaction. Blushing, shy, desirous--all of these feelings are his to keep and enjoy. (I!!!!! LOVE!!!!!!!!!! HOW SUBTLY POSSESSIVE HE IS AAAAAAAAAA) MC notes internally that she feels the same way about him, how he only shows this intensely passionate side to her. Comte is uncharacteristically impatient and frenzied that night, and they both go at it.

It skips to midnight where the two are cuddling in the aftermath, just being cute and happy. Comte, the absolute MADLAD is already thinking about how to celebrate next year--and she just giggles at him (he’s a wackadoo but he’s her wackadoo LMFAO MOOD) and he laughs with her. They essentially swear to promise their love over and over in the future, and it just ends on that wholesome note :>>>

Also can I just. The fact that he lived for so long alone, but was always, always paying attention to all of these little things that are done with a person’s loved one ;-; that he would remember his friend doing that at his wedding and be like BROOOOO I WANNA DO THAT IF I EVER GET MARRIED!!!!!!!!!!! I just. It’s so heartbreaking and touching at the same time, I just want to hold him forever ;-; the fact that he doesn’t seem to worry as much about his own happiness, seems absolutely floored that MC would do anything in return. I JUST LOVE HIM WITH EVERYTHING INSIDE OF ME

THIS IS WHAT PEAK PERFORMANCE LOOKS LIKE

#asks #ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp spoilers #ikevamp comte #ikevamp saint germain #ikevamp wedding event #NOW I CAN REST IN PIECES O-<--<#today on: reasons why i would die for comte no.347 #will i ever stop? no #do i have a problem? probably #but i have a tumblr account and the ability to write and i am making that everyone else's problem fdkjlhgfdjkh #but i hope you enjoyed my rambles!!!#you're always welcome here friend! :D #tho yall story time #when he asked abt the garter i started SCREECHING bc i knew EXACTLY where it was going #in middle school i saw a guy do it once at a wedding but i didnt know what the sex^TM was so i didnt think anything of it #i was like haha weird wedding tradition go brrrr why is everyone whistling #and when i was reading i just immediately was sent back and i was like OMFG HE'S GONNA DO IT ISN'T HE THE WILD MAN #but honestly i cant get over how romantic comte is #he has no necessity to enact all these little rituals--i dont really know if he even believes in any kind of religion at all #(i dont think he does honestly but he never speaks to it directly)#but the thought of sharing that with her #of doing those things to make her happy and express his feelings #it makes me so very softe #i dont even believe in all of those wonderful things and yet he makes me want to humor that kind of belief #also idk why the cuts arent working properly on the tumbles i apologize in advance im trying to figure out why

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shima-draws · 4 years

Note

Shima can you pls hit us with some anime recs?? ówò

OH YELL HEAH I GOTCHU FAM

Putting all this under the cut because inevitably it got long lmao

Eden of the East

Eden’s one of those animes where you start watching and then decide you’re not going to stop until you finish it. It’s absolutely binge worthy and has such a unique concept with a lot of mystery and romance sprinkled in here and there!

Eden of the East is about a girl named Saki who goes to Washington to visit the White House. There she meets a boy named Takizawa who, for some reason, shows up completely naked, and just had his memories wiped, so he has no idea who he is. As Takizawa and Saki start to bond, Taki starts to put together the pieces of his past. Apparently before his memory got wiped he was involved in a “game” with 11 other people, and each of them were gifted 10 billion yen to attempt to change Japan for the better. Taki discovers more and more about the person he was before he wiped his memory–he might have been involved in terrorism, that’s great–and he and Saki start falling in love with each other and it’s really. Really soft.

It’s 11 episodes, and then there’s two sequel movies after that!

Mawaru Penguindrum

ONE OF MY PERSONAL ALL TIME FAVORITES…MP is such an underrated series and it’s so unique and just out there. Everything in this series has symbolism, though it may not seem like it upfront–everything has a deeper meaning! The series pretty much rides on symbolism and reference to other media in the background.

The story follows twin brothers Shouma and Kanba Takakura, who live on their own with their terminally ill little sister, Himari. In the first episode, Himari passes away, but is miraculously revived by a strange spirit inside of a penguin hat. The spirit demands the brothers find what’s called the “penguindrum” in order to keep Himari alive. The siblings are gifted with the help of three strange penguins who are invisible to everyone except for them. Their search leads them to a girl named Ringo, who has a mysterious diary that can apparently “change fate”. Believing this to be the penguindrum, Shouma gets heavily involved with Ringo’s schemes to chase her one true love, Tabuki, who also happens to be the twins’ teacher. (Which, inevitably, ends in disaster lmao.) As the series goes on the themes get darker, as the twins discover more about their parents’ past and their involvement with a terrorist act many years ago.

I should warn you that while MP is VERY good, it definitely gets…weirder as it progresses, and darker, like I said. There’s a couple triggers I should warn ya’ll about if you plan to watch it: (minor) incest (Kanba kisses Himari in the first episode and that’s like. The extent of it), attempted rape (a character wants to become pregnant with a guy’s child, but they’re stopped before they can go through with it, and there’s also another one with two women), terrorism, sexual and physical abuse, and…I think that’s it? Wow I honestly forgot how dark this series is tgnakdsasda

Anyway I highly suggest it, it’s one of my favorites, but it’s definitely…strange, and not for everyone. You have to have a certain taste to really take to MP, but I promise it’s worth it, especially since Shouma is baby and I would do anything for him and his stupid pretty long eyelashes

I love these boys so much they’re so sTUPID

This one’s 24 episodes!

Kobato

This one is absolutely ADORABLE and soft and a very feel-good anime. If you wanna sit down and relax with a lighthearted series with romance and slice of life definitely go with this one!

The series is about a girl named Kobato who wants to fulfill a lifetime wish of going to the place she wishes to go. It isn’t really specified where until the end of the series so I won’t spoil ;) In order to do so she has to collect the healed fragments of people’s hearts inside of a bottle. However, she has a time limit–one year to complete the task. Unfortunately, Kobato is ditzy and naive, which leads her into a whole bunch of troublesome situations, and this makes it hard for her to connect with people. She’s guided by her partner, a little dog plush toy named Ioryogi, who was apparently cursed and trapped in that form due to his meddling in the affairs of the heavens. If Kobato completes her mission, Ioryogi will also be allowed to return to his original form. Kobato soon learns that being herself–honest, kind, and sweet, is the way to heal people’s hearts. She gets involved with a kindergarten and begins working there to help out the principal, Sayaka. Also part of the kindergarten is Fujimoto, a very handsome yet sarcastic man who is very closed off from everyone. As the series progresses, Fujimoto’s initial irritation and annoyance with Kobato fades away, and they start falling in love.

They’re so cute I LOVE THEM 😫

This one is 24 episodes as well!

Senyuu

Of course I’m going to suggest Senyuu do ya’ll even KNOW ME

For those of you who don’t know, Senyuu is one of my all time favorite series in existence–unfortunately the anime doesn’t even cover the good parts of it, as it only adapts part 1, which is just the beginning of the whole mess. I’m still going to recommend it nonetheless!

Senyuu’s about a hero named Alba and the royal soldier assigned to him, Ros! Alba’s more of a wannabe than anything, and can barely hold his own against super low level slimes. He’s sarcastic and witty and acts as the straight man in a comedy routine with Ros. Ros, on the other hand, is sadistic, snaky and rude, and his favorite pastime is teasing Alba incessantly. Together the two of them are out on an adventure to find the Demon Lord, who was apparently sealed away a thousand years ago by the Legendary Hero Creasion. The Demon Lord released tons of monsters into the human world, causing problems for everyone. When they do encounter the Demon Lord, however, they discover that she’s actually the granddaughter of the original Demon Lord, and that the appearing monsters were caused by a mere accident. Alba and Ros decide to help the girl, Rchi, find all of the monsters and send them back to the Demon World where they belong. They go after the Big Twelve, the most powerful demons in existence, and end up in a lot of trouble regarding a conspiracy in the kingdom!

Senyuu’s basically a comedy until the last few episodes where shit gets Real and secrets are revealed! If you enjoy the anime and want to know what happens next DEFINITELY read the webcomic, part 2 is my personal favorite and where a whole bunch of crazy plot twists happen.

There’s 26 episodes, they’re only about 5 minutes a piece, so you could finish the entire anime in about 2 hours 👌

And that should be a good start for now :0c If you guys need more suggestions hmu again, I’m happy to share my good collection of shows to watch ;)

#Shima answers questions #Anime recs #Senyuu #Eden of the East #Mawaru Penguindrum #Kobato #Long post

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bearsinpotatosacks · 4 years

Text

There is a War On

This is also on AO3!

Night was clear around him, everything was silent apart from the gentle swishing of the trees. He tucked his hands under his armpits and wished he'd brought his gloves in his fit of minute rage. His body felt weary but his mind was active, there was far too much to think about to warrant rest.

"I know you have high standards, but I never took you for a hypocrite, Arthur," William said into the inky black sky.

"What on earth are you talking about?" Replied the Captain in a hushed tone. "And lower your voice, who knows who could be listening,"

"Who? I doubt any Jerry have wandered here so quickly,"

"Well, you never know, there is a war on" The Captain took a sneaky glance to his left and took in the slightly disheveled appearance of his Lieutenant.

William's hair wasn't as sleek and molded into place, his uniform less pristine but his face brighter, more open now they were officially meant to be sleeping.

"But perhaps you weren't alluding to the Jerry, then,"

Arthur raised an eyebrow and shook his head, despite William obviously being correct in his speculation. "Nonsense, who on earth could I be talking about apart from our enemies,"

"I think we both know what you're talking about," William quickly changed the subject and moved from his lent position in the doorway to stand next to the Captain. "Anyway, why are you not following your own advice and getting a good night's sleep?"

Arthur crinkled the printed card in his hand and turned his head away, immediately raising Williams' attention to said paper and foolishly allowing him to grab it from his hand. He made no effort to stop him from reading it, perhaps with someone else, but everything was different around William, part of him was willing to say that the normal rules didn't apply.

No, of course the rules still applied, there are no exceptions to rules. That was a fact.

It didn't matter if a part of him wanted to hold hands with him, purely for warmth, he'd learnt that men do not hold hands, under any circumstances. Nor did it matter that he wanted to run away from all this and spend the rest of his days alone with him, one must contribute to society, not even when said society went against everything he held secret. It simply didn't matter how much he wanted to break them, the rules still apply.

"Ah, your brother's getting married, congratulations!"

"I'm not the one getting married, there's no need to congratulate me," The Captain started. "Besides, I won't enjoy going,"

"Why? Weddings are fun events, aren't they?"

"Not for me, they're loud, rambunctious, no one respects personal space, they go on for far too long in the night until you're just tired and miserable and everybody drinks until they're silly. No, no, they are definitely not for me," He answered, adding more bite to his voice as the hairs on his arms stood on end and his hands clenched.

William scoffed a laugh and smiled, raising a worn cigarette to his lips and extending the matchbox to Arthur. The glow of the flame shone in his eyes as it reached closer to his face, the flickering wavering the light along his cheekbones as silence surrounded them once more. Part of him longed to reach out and stroke his face, he wanted to see if his skin was as smooth as it looked. He buried that desire, it was far too dangerous to even think about.

"It does say you're allowed to bring a guest, and it doesn't specify a romantic one," William sucked on the cigarette, Arthur was so close he could hear the crackling burning sound. "That does mean that I could accompany you, purely for security,"

"That would be a beneficial option for both parties, the parties being us," He lit his own cigarette, something he hadn't done in a while since he found the satisfaction a pipe or a cigar could fulfill. "You get to enjoy a night full of ridiculous dancing and I won't have to spend the entire evening regretting my decision,"

"Good, I'll write to the higher ups then, I'll say it's of great familial urgency," He said, smiling again as they fell back into silence.

They shuffled closer to each other as wind blustered through the fields and past the gravel. For a moment, Arthur allowed himself to wonder about a life he could live, in a different world where he was allowed to be himself. Perhaps he would be holding hands with William, maybe they would embrace and laugh and smile and kiss and love. He hoped some far off day that someone like him could do that, that maybe there will be people like him who could do all of that, and more.

The Captain stood in the bathroom of the pub, it was small and beige, a single amber light lit up his face as he combed his moustache and hair. William emerged from the other cubicle and cleared his throat, his dress uniform was clean and crisp, hair all in place and a glint of excitement in his eyes.

The train ride had been long back to his hometown, families talking, children crying and staring at their uniforms, elderly ladies looking at them and whispering among themselves. At one point, William had to carefully place his hand on Arthur's arm just to calm him down, distracting him with talk of new plans for the allotment back at Button House.

It was only an hour until the wedding, after dropping their belongings off at the old, worn hotel, giving William a tour and relaxing in the pub for a short while, and Arthur was struggling to hide his bubbling anxiety. He'd adjusted his coat buttons, combed his hair, corrected his tie a million times.

"Will you stop that?" Havers snapped. "Your hair can't get any neater, are you really dreading this wedding so much?"

"Yes, yes I am,"

"Why?"

"Well, let's just say, my family and I aren't on very good terms,"

William raised an eyebrow and asked," Why did they send you an invitation then?" as they left the bathroom and made their way across the cobbles of the street towards the church.

"My brother's been called for national service, he is quite a few years younger than me, you see, and wants to get married before he is sent off into the unknown," Arthur stopped before the church and gulped.

A large crowd of people were mingling near the door, all dressed in their best clothes with styled hair and smiles. These were people he hadn't spoke to, or even thought about, in years and now he was arriving in full military dress with his colleague accompanying him.

"This was a terrible decision, we should go, they will not want me her-" Arthur started, almost fully turned around before a bellowing voice echoed across the street.

"Well, I'll be blessed, he actually came!" The shout came from his brother, drawing the family's eyes on them, a woman, hunched over a walking stick with thin white hair emerged from her conversation with the Priest, calling Arthur's name.

"It looks like we're staying," William mumbled as they were dragged into the crowd.

Finally the night was over, they were frazzled despite staying sober for the night and were standing against the reception desk, dinging the bell impatiently before the main staff member emerged from the back room. She turned to hand the key to them and hesitated.

"I think I've been mistaken," She said.

"Mistaken?" They replied in unison.

"Well, we were told that you, Arthur, were allowed to bring a date and, well, we assumed when you booked a room that you were including your date in the booking," She gave an awkward smile and continued. "Which means that there's only one double bed in the room, and we're fully booked,"

The Captain and Havers slowly turned to look at each other, then at the woman behind the desk, and back to each other. Arthur's stomach flipped. He took a deep, whistling breath inwards and closed his eyes. 'Bury that instinct, it's illegal, you'll be killed and what good can you do for your country after that?' he thought to himself just as William said.

"We're army men, trained for worse situations, we'll manage,"

The woman handed him the key and directed them to their room, right at the back with a perfect overview of the rolling fields that Arthur vaguely recalled playing war games in as a child.

Their worn cases were lying under the bed, William was turned around, changing into his pyjamas as Arthur brushed his teeth and prepared for bed in the bathroom. His hands hadn't stopped shaking since they'd stepped into the room. An entire night spent with Havers, the little rebel inside him was ecstatic.

On the outside however he was terrified. Any of the staff could walk in, any of the staff could report them. Two men willing to share a bed? They were practically begging to be killed.

He went back into the main room just as William was putting his nightshirt on, his back looked just as smooth as his face, freckles revealed themselves under the yellow glow of the old lighting and his muscles rippled as he flicked the shirt on. Havers turned around just slowly enough for Arthur to break himself from his ludicrous staring and smooth out of sheets.

"Well, your family certainly knows how to throw a good party," William said, trying to ease the tension.

The Captain scoffed. "Yes, well, I'm glad you enjoyed yourself at least," He shook his head. "This entire ordeal was a complete waste of time,"

William stopped and let his face run through confusion, annoyance and curiosity. "How was it a waste of time? You got to see your family after years, we're at war and they could die, if it were me, I would've made up with them far before this,"

"Well, you're not me, are you?"

"Evidently not, because if it were me, I wouldn't be calling the last possible time I could see my brother alive a waste of time," He raised his voice slightly, not wanting to alert the attention of any of their neighbours. Despite his anger at Arthur for disgracing his family, he wouldn't risk their lives over it.

"We haven't contacted me for years when I was off in the army before the war, why should it change now?"

"Oh, I don't know, perhaps because they could actually be hurt in this war, or maybe because they genuinely seem to care for you and you aren't giving them anything!"

The Captain squinted and rubbed his forehead, "See, if we hadn't have come, if we had just stayed at our posts, we wouldn't be fighting,"

This was apparently the wrong thing to say as Havers only angered more, "This is your entire life, isn't it?"

"Yes,"

"You have no other wishes or desires outside the army and the war?"

"No," He said, 'Yes,' his mind corrected. 'I seem to be infatuated with you,'

"How? How can there be nothing else in the world you want that doesn't involve the military?"

"There just isn't, now can we drop the matter?" He said, about to climb into the bed just as Havers grabbed his wrist to stop him.

"No." He said lowly. "You keep saying your entire life is the army but why, you're not telling me why, you may not answer this question if someone else had asked it, but you always answer me,"

He looked him in the eye, "Why?"

"Because I want to, it's the proper thing an Army Captain should do," For a moment he considered telling him the truth, but his integrity, his survival instincts got the better of him.

"You're the Captain of a remote Army Base, Arthur," William let go of his arm and began to wave his hands around as he paced. "You're speaking as though you're a general when you're actually stationed at a remote base and haven't been promoted since I've known you,"

He stopped and just breathed for a second, listening to the creeks of the hallway before climbing into the bed and saying, "I give up, all I want is for you to be happy but you give me nothing," He turned away from him. "Goodnight, Captain,"

Arthur climbed into the bed, feeling the scratchy duvet on his feet as he took regular glances at William. He didn't want to annoy him, he just knew that if he told him anything true and personal that whatever they were would become even more dangerous.

"I do wish to play cricket more, that is one thing, away from the army that I want," He whispered, William didn't respond, didn't even shuffle under the covers. "And I've always had a certain quality that the higher ups didn't like, it meant they didn't want to promote me, didn't want to leave me in charge, and certainly wouldn't trust me with anything a general does, that's why you're so special, you're one of the few military men who can put up with me,"

William began to turn over and eventually was facing Arthur head on, his brown eyes were almost black now he had his back to the lamp. He reached out with a small smile and stroked his face. Arthur didn't dare breathe.

"I don't just put up with you, I like you," He watched as the Captain let out a shuddering breath. "I like you a lot, and I'm glad you're acknowledging that we understand each other,"

He waited for a response, but after realising he wasn't getting one, continued. "All I want is for you to have more balance in your life, all of this work, without relaxing, will make you ill,"

"We wouldn't want that," The Captain managed.

"No, there is a war on,"

"There is,"

William sat up and turned the light off, then lay down and pulled the thin layers of bed sheets over both their heads. They were so close now, were being so risky, but this flutter in Arthur's stomach and pounding of his heart were too intense for him to care. For the first time in his life he didn't care about the rules, rules aren't applicable to these sorts of situations, especially because they weren't made with this sort of situation in mind.

"So, because of our current situation, the threat of death and all that," William's voice was barely louder than his breath, he moved his hand across the mattress. "You won't report me for doing this, then,"

He clasped Arthur's clammy hand in his and stared gently in his eyes. His thumb ran over his knuckles as they listened anxiously to every sound of the corridor.

For a moment, Arthur was satisfied, content and felt exactly where he was meant to be, here under a scratchy bed sheet, breaking the law with his Lieutenant. He'd heard about this feeling, read about it, and could never have prepared for how intensely warm it was. If he was a poet, he might say it was similar to sunshine, a warm cup of tea or a good bit of tobacco in his pipe. But he wasn't a poet, so he let himself bask in the innocent glory of it all, let his mind think of alternate universes where he could do this in public, and forget that they were returning back to normal life tomorrow.

But there is a war on, so perhaps there would be more moments like this, purely because of the circumstances.

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doneses · 4 years

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Who were the Schnee’s meant to be?

So with V7 having drawn to a close, I wanted to try and sort out my thoughts on how the Schnee’s that we know in the show today, might not be the one’s that Monty had originally intended to make.

This is not meant to be a dig at CRWBY or to say that CRWBY are mangling Monty’s vision. Monty was constantly introducing different ideas to RWBY (like the Maidens) so it is entirely possible that the Schnee’s we got are one’s he would have ended up making, it’s impossible to say for certain.

But looking over V1-2, some behind the scene information involving Monty, and later volumes, you begin to see evidence of where things appeared to have been... reshuffled.

The Winter Issue

Most of the ‘changes’ that occured in the Schnee family can be traced to a single character; Winter Schnee, as what we are presented about her character and her relationship with Weiss in the first two volumes is wildly different than V3 and onwards.

In V1/2, what Weiss mentions about her home life is vague and she generally tries to avoid that subject due to unhappy memories. In V1, after seeing how serious about leading Ruby is, Weiss brings up how she wanted to have bunk beds as a child, but what’s interesting is the sad look she gets before telling Ruby this.

While one could say that Weiss and Winter weren’t able to have bunk beds due to Winter being much older than Weiss, however, I think it might be less due to an age difference and more just due to a more distant relationship between the two sisters, a relationship that Weiss wished was more sisterly.

The reason I think it is due to Weiss and Winter being distant is due to one of the best scenes in V2, and arguably the entire show.

This scene in V2, and the follow up, show us Weiss’ entire relationship with her family members involved in the SDC; she’s nervous, she’s scared, she has to fake happiness and put on a face to interact with them.

Seconds before the line goes through, you get to see how awful the prospect of interacting with her family is for her.

And here is where thing’s get interesting.

Why would Winter be at an SDC building alongside her father? And as Weiss specified, it isn’t any random SDC building but

The main headquarters of the entire SDC.

Given what we know about canon Winter, she actively despises her father and arguably the entire Schnee family outside of Weiss given how distant she keeps herself and buries herself in the military. Given how close she is to Ironwood and how aware he is of her volatile relationship with her family, he most likely wouldn’t be having her do missions with the SDC, which I’m not sure what Ironwood would even need done at the SDC headquarters back in Atlas at the time of V2. On top of that the way that the secretary mentions Winter seems to imply that she works there.

The other interesting aspect of this scene, is Weiss’ face after getting the information she needed from the SDC and refused to talk with her family.

She looks miserable. Just as miserable as when she was mentally preparing herself for the possibility of talking to them.

The reason I find this so interesting, is how Weiss in V3+ is the complete opposite when it comes to Winter.

She’s excited, the mere sight of Winter’s ship sends her running from the arena and across Beacon’s campus.

And it’s here we learn Winter is part of the military, and can infer that she’s the one who trained Weiss prior to her leaving for Beacon.

So why does Winter being different matter?

This change in the relationship between Weiss and Winter is the reason why I think Whitley even exists as a character, and why Willow is an alcoholic.

Did you notice that throughout the first 3 volumes, when discussions about her family, Weiss never mentions having another sibling? A sibling who would be of a similar age to her and would be able to share a bunk bed with her?

Unless of course, said sibling was close to their father, and was rather cold and distant with Weiss.

I remember that there was a lot of confusion back when V4 first aired at who Whitley was; everyone was confused that Weiss had this other sibling who she had never mentioned before.

As we have seen, Whitley has a closer relationship with his father than he does with the rest of the Schnee family, and is more involved in the actual business aspects of the SDC than his siblings. Hmmm. Now that seems to line up a bit with what the implication for Winter was in V2.

And as we can see, Weiss isn’t as friendly with Whitley as she would be with Winter; she doesn't enjoy talking with him or being around him.

Now the next source should be taken with a grain of salt given who it is from, but in Shane’s letter, he mentions and covers a lot of things that were changed from the original script for V3 that Monty had done (Jaune seeing Pyrrha die, Yang fighting Adam before losing her arm, etc), and what CRWBY made.

V3 had begun pre-production in 2013, shortly after V1 finished airing. And the main thing to take away from that part of the letter is that the Winter that Monty had originally created, was changed. Whether it was just her design or her character as a whole is left unclear but, I do believe that this change in Winter’s character lines up with the change in Weiss’ behavior in relation to Winter, and why Whitley was not mentioned until V4. If this original version of Winter was meant to be a Whitley like character, a sibling that is groomed by their father and hostile toward Weiss, then when they changed Winter to being a military woman, they needed to create a new sibling to still fulfill that character role in Weiss’ story.

How does this affect Willow?

From Pyrrha’s voice actor, we know that a lot of story elements, like the Fall of Beacon and Pyrrha’s death were moved from V2 to V3, and that Monty was working on V3 content while V2 was airing. We know Monty was working on content for V3 due to his tweets in 2014, sharing character files that were on his computer.

Do you see it? The names listed?

Willow Schnee, and Winter Schnee.

It’s through this list of character files that we were able to learn Willow’s name prior to V7 and also how we learned Taiyang’s name prior to V3. Monty is very much a ‘pants’ style of creator, he makes things up as he goes along and tosses things in because he thought it would be cool, just look at Neo or CFVY. The entire reason that M&K were brought into to the show and help him with the writing was due to him needing people to help him with getting the plot to each of its major plot points, as he (like most content creators) just had the major plot points thought out.

Which is why I find the inclusion of Willow on the list of character files that were being worked on for V3 and shown during V2 to be interesting. Why would Willow be on that list of characters meant to show up soon or are in the current volume if Willow would be a minor character who wouldn’t appear until near the mid- to end of the show? And if Whitley is meant to be Weiss’ rival for control of the SDC as the show seems to be setting him up to be, then why is he nowhere to be found on that list of character files?

Winter in canon for the most part took over the maternalistic role in Weiss’ life after Willow fell into depression and started drinking. It can be assumed that she is the one who trained Weiss in her glyphs, swordplay, and attempted to do so with summoning, as shown in the V5 character short.

Winter helped train Weiss so she would be strong enough to leave home.

But if Winter was originally meant to be a rival to Weiss and have a strained relationship with her, then who would have been the one to have trained Weiss in her semblance and weapon?

If my theory is correct, I believe Willow was meant to have taken the role Winter had in V3, to have visited Weiss for a bit and help teach her summoning like she had done so with her glyphs and swordplay. That Willow was originally meant to have been a mentor figure for Weiss, instead of being uninvolved in her life.

But why change Winter so much?

Now this is something I do not have an answer for as I don’t work for RT, and honestly this all entirely speculation on my part just based off bits of behind the scenes info that we’ve been given and what I’ve noticed during my own watchings of the show. If I am correct and Winter’s character was changed and took the role Willow was meant to have and her own character was given to Whitley, that is indeed a pretty drastic change, and from an outside perspective seems like it’d be creating a lot more work for a writer instead of having the more simplified version that Monty had (if I’m correct).

And the only answer I can think of, is from this scene.

While it might sound nice to have Weiss be trained by her mother, and her sister be her rival for control of their family company due to them being their father’s favorite and Weiss being abused by him, it does create the question of “If Willow is so skilled at Huntsmen things, why doesn’t she defend her children, or simply get a divorce?”

And I think it’s due to that question, of how to keep Weiss being abused by her father and it playing out realistically, that led to the decision to have Winter’s character cut out and made into new character, and for Willow’s role to be grafted onto this new Winter, and the remnants of Willow being turned into a neglectful alcoholic to add more drama to Weiss’ life and make her difficult childhood even harder.

I didn’t know Monty on a personal level nor will I claim to know how his mind worked, but I do believe based off the evidence I provided that the Schnee family that we have in canon are different than what Monty might have originally envisioned and was working towards in V1/2. And that’s not to say it’s a bad thing if I am correct about these changes, as the Schnee’s are arguably the best part about RWBY and the intense family drama is something that draws a lot of people into the show.

#rwby #weiss schnee #winter schnee #willow schnee #whitley schnee

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basicsofislam · 3 years

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ISLAM 101: Muslim Culture and Character: Morals And Manners: Hilm (Gentleness)

Hilm means being inclined to gentleness or mildness; this adjective describes a person who is quiet and peaceful, slow to anger, quick to forgive, and who is in control of their lower nature. It also encompasses good akhlaq because it embodies behavior like patience and tolerance in the face of unpleasant situations, keeping one’s cool when provoked, and remaining dignified, serious and calm in response to distressing or unkind treatment. Hilm, along with humility, is one of the charac- teristics that most pleases God. In fact, these two dispositions are the source and origin of all other good character traits.

In addition to dignity and calm, hilm also means to act with consciousness and without haste. The result is a good and moral manner which pleases God. Hilm is one of the basic elements of good morality. With hilm it is also possible to perfect the mind and to improve other aspects of one’s temperament. Just as knowledge can be gained through learning, so hilm can be attained by making an effort. In other words, it is possible to reachhilm by working.

Hilm is also closely related to controlling one’s negative re- sponses and reactions. It is much more difficult for those who can- not control or reign their temper to attain a state of hilm. Scholars consider the ability to act with hilm to be among the most virtu- ous practices.

Humans are distinguished and privileged among all creatures. God Almighty blessed people with lofty attributes that He en- dowed on no other creature, like intelligence, conscience, mercy, compassion, empathy, and the desire to help, respect, and honor. For this reason, the human being is the most valuable being in all creation.

As we can see, hilm indicates total gentleness, as well as behav- ior such as overlooking faults, forgiving others, and being open to everyone for the sake of dialogue.

THE HILM (GENTLENESS) OF THE PROPHET

Our Prophet, both before and after his prophethood, was the gen- tlest of people. This is a quality that he carried throughout his life. God Himself protected the Prophet from ever losing his hilm, and was pleased with the Prophet because of it. God spoke of this in the Qur’an: “It was by a mercy from God that (at the time of the set- back), you (O Messenger) were lenient with your followers. Had you been harsh and hard-hearted, they would surely have scattered away from about you” (Al Imran 3:159).

The Prophet never thought to avenge himself for wrongs done to his person. In addition, he was the hardest to anger, the easiest to please, and the most forgiving of all. When Prophet Muhammad, peace and blessings be upon him, began his prophetic mission to teach people about God’s commands, the disbelievers in the Quraysh tribe leveled every kind of insult and indignity at him. They ridi- culed the Prophet, threatened to kill him, spread thorns on his path, threw excrement at him, and even threw a noose around his neck and tried to drag him by it. Not stopping at this, they called him a conjurer and sorcerer, and said he was possessed; they tried every- thing they could think of to anger him. But the Prophet endured everything they did to him without reacting.

No one, whoever they may be, would be able to refrain from becoming angry, and thus react and try to respond in kind when insulted or attacked in such a way by others. Yet the Prophet did none of these things. He was extremely calm, patient, and toler- ant. He strove to carry out the responsibility given to him by God. Perhaps this is why he did not respond to the torments he was subjected to.

Someone who heard the Prophet explaining Islam to people in the market place in Mecca related, “Muhammad, peace and blessings be upon him, was declaring the Oneness of God, and that those who believe in the One God would be saved. Abu Jahl started throwing rocks at him, and shouting, ‘People, do not listen to this man! He is trying to get you to abandon your religion. He wants to separate you from our idols Lat and Uzza!’ The Prophet refused to acknowledge the instigation; he did not once turn to look at Abu Jahl. He simply continued his duty.”1

Another day, the Prophet was going to visit Sa’d ibn Ubada, one of the Companions who had fallen ill. On the way, he en- countered a gathering assembled by the ringleader of the unbeliev- ers, ‘Abdullah ibn Ubayy. The Prophet stopped for a while. Ibn Ubayy began to taunt the Prophet, saying arrogantly, “Careful you, your animal is making dust. Get out of here, your animal is bothering us!” The Prophet greeted the group and then began to speak of Islam. Ibn Ubayy, seeing that the people were listening to him, was beside himself. Saying, “If anyone wants to hear some- thing from you he will come to you! Do not talk to us of Islam!”,

he hurled curses at the Prophet. But the Prophet’s adab would not let him respond in kind; he simply continued his address. On see- ing this, the great poet ‘Abdullah ibn Rawaha was moved; he stood up and said, “O Messenger of God, come here more often, and speak to us; we love you greatly!” Then a disagreement began between the Muslims and the disbelievers. They started to argue. The Prophet, calm and gentle as always, calmed them down and then departed, continuing on his way.2

The Jewish tribes living in the Arabian Peninsula at that time were among the Prophet’s most relentless enemies. Some of them had a rancorous, jealous, greedy character. It should also be noted that these Jews took great pains to separate their own education, scholarship and literature from the Arabs, whom they believed to be inferior in these areas. As a result, they knew about the prophe- cies concerning the advent of a new Messenger, and were waiting for the coming of God’s Messenger. When Prophet Muhammad, peace and blessings be upon him, first declared his prophetic mis- sion from God, many Jews who had thought that the Prophet would be from the Children of Israel did not believe him. These enemies created the most evil strategies against him and tried des- perately to get rid of him.

One of them cast a spell on the Prophet, who became ill and was confined to bed for several days. Finally Archangel Gabriel came and told him, “O Muhammad, one from among the Jewish people cast a spell on you by throwing a knotted string into (such and such a well). Send someone there and have him remove the string.” The Prophet sent Ali, who took out the knotted string and brought it to him. As soon as they untied the knot he was released from the illness and got well. Although he knew who had done this, the Prophet never confronted the perpetrator about it.3

However, there were, of course, good and righteous people among the People of the Book (those who had been blessed with previous Revelations; that is, the Jews and Christians); there were those who sought the truth. There were many signs and much knowledge in the earlier Scriptures regarding the unique characteris- tics and virtues of the coming Prophet, that is, Prophet Muhammad, peace and blessings be upon him.

One of the most easily recognizable of the signs related in the Torah about the coming Prophet was his hilm. The Torah pro- claimed that the Prophet would be of gentle spirit and show great patience and tolerance in inviting the people to God’s way. The Jewish scholars saw with their own eyes that the Prophet had many qualities which the Torah had predicted. Some of them con- tinued to search and question, and when they saw all of the signs fulfilled in the Prophet they believed him.

One of these Jewish scholars, thinking, “I have seen in him ev- ery single sign and characteristic foretold in the Torah except hilm,” decided to test this last trait. “I went and lent the Prophet thirty di- nar for a specified time. Then I went to him one day before the payment date and said, ‘O Muhammad, pay me back. You sons of Abdul Muttalib never pay your debts on time.’” Hearing this, Umar retorted, “O foul Jew, by God, if we were not in the Messenger’s house, I would slap your face.” But the Messenger said to Umar, “O Umar, God forgive you. I expected better from you. You should have said that I would gladly pay what I owe him, and you should have said that you would assist him to collect it and acted courte- ously toward him.”

The Jewish man recounts, “The Messenger responded to my ignorant, harsh, rude manner only by increasing his own gentleness. He said to me, ‘O Jewish man, I will surely pay you back tomorrow morning.’ Then he told Umar, ‘O Umar, tomorrow morning take him to whichever date grove he wishes, and give him as much as he wishes. Then give him more than he asks for. If he is not pleased with the dates in that grove, take him to another one.’

“The following day Umar brought me to the date grove of my choice. He gave me as much as the Messenger had told him to, and added even more.” The Jewish man, after being repaid in this manner by the Prophet, declared the shahada, or testimony of faith, and became a Muslim. He explained his conversion to Umar as follows: “O Umar, do you know why I acted that way to the Messenger of God? I acted thus because I saw in him all of the characteristics and morals foretold in the writings of the Torah. The only ones I had not observed were hilm and kindness. Today I tried his patience, and he responded just as the Torah said he would. With you as my witness, I hereby donate these dates and half of all my possessions to the poor among the Muslims.” This one simple demonstration of the Prophet’s patience and gentleness brought many other people to belief.4

The Prophet responded to words and actions that were turned against him with maturity, compassion, and kindness. He exhibit- ed akhlaq to a level that others could never possibly reach. Abu Said al-Khudri narrates, “The Prophet was distributing the spoils from the Battle of Hunayn to the Companions who had fought.

He gave a bit more from the captured property to some of the Companions. Among them were Aqra ibn Habis and Uyayna ibn Hisn, who each received a hundred camels. When this happened Dhu al-Khuwaysira of the house of Tamim came to him and ob- jected, saying, ‘O Messenger of God! Do not swerve from equality and justice. By God, this distribution cannot be pleasing to God!’ The Prophet was saddened and answered, ‘Shame on you, if I do not act justly, who will? For if I do not carry out justice, I will earn a terrible punishment. May God’s mercy be on Moses, he was patient in the face of worse insults than this.’”5

Another time the Prophet was in the mosque with the Companions, sitting and talking with them. A Bedouin entered and prayed two rakats of salat, then opened his hands and prayed, “O God, have mercy on me and on Muhammad. Do not have mercy on anyone else.” When the Prophet heard him praying thus, he said, “You are limiting God’s great and wide mercy,” thus cor- recting the Bedouin’s mistake.

A little later, the Bedouin got up, went to a corner of the mosque, and urinated there. When the Companions saw what he was doing they jumped up to stop him. The Prophet, however, in- tervened and told them, “Leave him alone. Let him see what he has done. Later, go and wash it with a bucket of water, for you have been sent to make the way easier, not to complicate.” Then he called the Bedouin to his side and told him, “Mosques are not for reliev- ing ourselves or for any other kind of uncleanness. They are made for the remembrance of God, praying, and reading the Qur’an.”6

This incident happened in the mosque that our Prophet had helped build with his own hands for the purpose of worship; the man had made a very great error. But the Prophet knew that the Bedouin had not done so intentionally, but rather out of ignorance.

It is only when one is confronted with repulsive behavior that a display of understanding, tolerance and gentleness can be truly meaningful; it is at such times that being forgiving and forbearing are most difficult. Indeed, anyone can be patient and calm during normal situations. Just as he was in every other way, the Prophet was extraordinary in his hilm and gentleness. In fact he was utterly unique; it would be impossible to find his equal.

Anas ibn Malik tells of another example of the hilm and gen- tleness of the Prophet: “I was walking with the Prophet. He was wearing a garment made of rough Najran fabric. A Bedouin came running up behind the Prophet, grabbed his robe and yanked it back. His garment was torn and his neck rubbed raw by this roughness.” The man had yanked it so hard and the fabric was so rough that it left an angry welt on the Prophet’s neck. Then the man said, “O Muhammad! Load my camels with grain. For the possessions you hold do not belong to you nor to your father.”

The Bedouin’s behavior was rude and uncouth, and the Prophet was troubled. He turned to the man and said, “First apologize, for you have injured me.” The Bedouin retorted, “No, I will not apolo- gize.” The Prophet was trying to guide him in the way of courtesy, but the other man was unconcerned. The Prophet then turned to the Companions and, ignoring the man’s incivility, instructed them, “Load one of this man’s camels with barley, and the other with dates.” The man, satisfied, went away. The Companions were sur- prised by the Prophet’s kind treatment of this rude Bedouin.7

Likewise, our Prophet treated all those under his authority and in his service with the utmost gentleness; he did not get angry with them or hurt their feelings. Even if they were negligent in their duties or did not do what they said they would, he would only inquire with kindness and polite consideration.

Anas ibn Malik, who was in his service for many years, spoke of the akhlaq of the Prophet: “I served the Messenger for ten years. He never once showed impatience with me, never reproved me for neglecting to do something, nor ever asked me why I had done something I was not supposed to do.”8

Anas recalled one time when the Prophet had to admonish him for neglecting his duty, “The Messenger of God sent me out one day with a task. At first I said, ‘By God, I cannot go.’ But in wardly I felt compelled to go wherever he sent me. I went out, and then I came across some children playing on the street. I for- got myself and started playing with them. Then the Prophet came up behind me, and put his hand on my head. I looked at his face, and he was smiling. ‘Dear Anas, did you go where I sent you?’ he asked. ‘Yes, I am going, O Messenger of God,’ I said.”9

The Prophet’s wife Aisha said that the Prophet once advised her, “O Aisha, be gentle. For wherever gentleness is found, its pres- ence beautifies, but wherever gentleness is absent, its absence is ugly.”10

Our Prophet’s true courage and heroism was not in the physi- cal strength to overpower, but in the knowledge and ability to stay calm when something upset him and to act gently even when he was offended.

‘Abdullah ibn Mas’ud relates, “The Messenger of God said, ‘Who among you do you call a hero?’ We answered, ‘One whom the wrestlers cannot defeat; one who cannot be overcome.’ He re- plied, ‘No, that is not a hero. The hero is one who can control himself when offended, the one who always practices self-mastery and temperance.’”11

From this perspective, Prophet Muhammad, peace and bless- ings be upon him, was a hero in the true sense of the word. He could not be defeated by his enemies in this aspect as well; those who sought to defeat his self-control, to overwhelm his restraint, could not do so. Instead, God’s Messenger responded to wrongs done against his person with forbearance.

According to a narration of Jarir ibn ‘Abdullah, the Prophet said, “Without a doubt, God rewards gentleness and kindness, not harshness and roughness. And when God loves one of His ser- vants, He grants them the blessing of gentleness. A person or household bereft of this blessing is bereft of everything.”12

The “gentleness and kindness” referred to here means a mature morality which requires, on principle, that one never loses one’s temper. To get irritated and fly into a rage at any time is totally contrary to the nature of hilm, which entails a gentle and morally up- right character. Thus, disciplining oneself in this one area—by cool- ing a quick temper and avoiding irritability—can bring a great num- ber of positive effects and make great changes in one’s morality.

Abdur Rahman ibn Awf relates, “Once someone came to our Prophet and asked, ‘O Messenger of God! Teach me words with which I can attain comfort and peace. But let them be brief, so I won’t forget.’ The Prophet replied, ‘Don’t lose your temper!’”13

Our Beloved Prophet taught us that there is also a satanic side to anger, and gave a practical solution: “Anger is from Satan, and Satan is created from fire. Fire can only be put out with water. For this reason, when you become angry, make ablutions.”14 Another helpful solution from the Prophet is, “When one of you becomes angry, if he is standing, let him immediately sit down. If his anger passes, good; if it does not, let him lie down.”15

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fatalism-and-villainy · 4 years

Note

Finrod, of course!

Juuuust what I was waiting for! :D

1: sexuality headcanon - I JUST send James an extensive headcanon re: Finrod and sexuality the other day, so you’re in luck. Basically, he can develop very intense, affectionate feelings for people very easily, to the point where he has a lil bit of a quasi-crush on most of his friends. But, while sex isn’t really a big deal for him (a cultural idea he mainly got from his time growing up in Alqualondë) and is primarily a way of being close to people he’s fond of, he does sort of buy into the One True Love cultural norm, and so isn’t always aware that his feelings towards people could be interpreted/approximated as romantic (as self-awareness isn’t always his strong point). Hence his relationship with Amarië, which he was more inclined to see as romantic because it fit the mainstream cultural model much better/had more potential for marriage than his other close relationships.

2: otp - Curufin, of course :P which is interesting to consider from Finrod’s end in that Curufin is quite distinct from his other relationships - his attraction to Curufin isn’t based in warm, fluffy feelings but comes from a much darker, more self-destructive impulse. Curufin stirs up feelings in him that he’s not at all used to, and he finds this exciting but a bit disturbing at the same time. (Also, mmm, hair and jewelry kinks…) Additionally, I like the idea Finrod/Fingon being a thing on the Helcaraxë; there was definitely an unrequited crush on Turgon at some point; I’m always here for involving Celegorm in the Finrod/Curufin dynamic, if not in directly sexual terms; I’ve also been weirdly invested in Finrod’s (again, mostly unrequited) complicated feelings for Andreth and resulting vicarious investment in/angst about her relationship with his brother, because I enjoy messiness…; also I definitely headcanon him as having had a fling with one of his Teleri cousins.

3: brotp - Well, for the reasons specified above, there are few ships I have for him that I’m not also invested in as friendships - Andreth might be the main friendship of his that I’m invested in primarily as that, and I really wish we had more interactions between them in a less emotionally fraught context than the Athrabeth (as I don’t think that’s a representation of how they talked to each other all the time). I also like the idea of Finrod and Maglor being friends and bonding over music and art (they share a love of broodiness and fatalism, and I think have a considerable amount in common, personality-wise).

4: notp - Finrod/Bëor makes me Big Uncomfortable most of the time

5: first headcanon that pops into my head - regarding his relationship with Galadriel (as I recently reread “Of the Noldor in Beleriand,” so their dynamic is on my mind) - as a small child, Galadriel idolized Finrod, to the point where when she was being sulky or incorrigible, he was the only one who could talk her down (and she was more inclined to obey him than either of their parents). When she got older, she often used him as a sounding board for her intellectual pursuits, and they would have long discussions about academic matters. Finrod enjoyed the challenge of debating with her, which is partly why he wanted her to come to Nargothrond.

6: favorite line from this character: “Now King Finrod Felagund had no wife, and Galadriel asked him why this should be; but foresight came unto Felagund as she spoke, and he said: ‘An oath I too shall swear, and must be free to fulfil it, and go into darkness. Nor shall anything of my realm endure that a son should inherit.’” - because (as you know) I love Finrod’s fatalism and fixation on the inevitability of his doom, and because responding to someone asking why you’re not married by saying that you’re going to be bound by an oath that will lead you into darkness is kind of a #big mood. (Honourable mention goes to “await us there, my brother - and me” because uhhhh??? Finrod???)

7: one way in which I relate to this character - We’re both allured by fatalism and prone to fits of existential despair! :D Also both very invested in presenting a public image of self-control despite whatever issues we have going on underneath.

8: thing that gives me second hand embarrassment about this character - EVERYTHING he says in the Athrabeth. I still love him so much there though.

9: cinnamon roll or problematic fave? - He wants to be a cinnamon roll, but is actually a problematic fave

#ameliarating #replies #awkwardly memes #my silm thoughts #finrod just enjoys having someone to verbally spar with and prove that he's Right #which is why he misses galadriel in nargothrond #why he likes andreth so much #and part of why he spends so much time with curufin oops

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forbiddensoul562 · 5 years

Note

The familiar unpleasantness of wetness startled Near from sleep. He sighed angrily, feeling the first contraction build at the base of his spine. Of course, any child if Mello's would have the urge to surprise him it inconvenient times. "Mello" he spoke loudly, trying to shake his partner awake. The other snored happily, arm still wrapped tightly around him. (1/2)

“Mello, it’s time!” He hissed irritably, shaking him harder. Blue eyes started fluttering open as the other moaned unhappily before half lidded eyes focused on him a “Oh shit,” Mello slurred, before his eyes closed and he went back sleep. (2/2)

(Thank you for sending me this prompt. I’m sorry it took me so long to respond to this! In case Tumblr mobile is being a bitch like it used to be, there is a read more, so… do with that what you need to.

Anon has specified that this takes place within the verse of Isolation and Topology. If you have not read those, you can find them: here and here. )

“Mello!” Near grumbled loudly as the older successor so easilyseemed to fall back to sleep once more. He knew Mello was tired from working a lot. He knew that all the extra work took a lot of him, out of both of them… But considering how much Mello had stressed wanting to be present for the birth of their second child, seeingthe ease with which he fell back asleep, Near couldn’t help thinking the other was already falling short.

This wasn’t working. He’d have to rely on himself, he figured. So, he pulled away from Mello and hissed as he forced himself to sit up on the side of the bed. He touched the large swell of his stomach where their second child was demanding his attention in the most important of ways.

Nine months had been hard, exacerbated by having to navigate not just the changing of his body and his attitudes, but having to do so in the presence of Mello, and Michael as well.

Michael…

The young boy was so excited to meet his new sibling… to find out whether it was a boy or a girl, to be a big brother. Near wanted his son to be present after the birth of his sibling, but he didn’t want Michael in a situation where he might see this… to see him like this… Michael was already so sensitive and caring towards Near’s state, always asking if he was okay, and offering to help him however he could. But this, the helplessness alone, Near figured, would terrify him…

But now that it was happening, he found himself wishing that Michael was here to, in the very least, go wake his father up, instead of staying with Rester until after the birth.

“Ah!” A new wave of pain shot through Near, again, causing him to double over. Why did it hurt so bad already? Had his contractions been this intense, this quickly when he was pregnant with Michael?

‘The human body isn’t programmed to remember pain.’ He told himself. Yet, as he sat there worrying that perhaps the intense pain meant something was going wrong he found himself wishing that he could remember those finer details…

Pushing himself to his feet, they no longer felt achy and sore like they had over the last month or so. Instead, they were like jelly, unstable, shaky, weak. His breath trembled as he tried to such in air while forcing his body to carry him just a few feet forward, to the bathroom attached to his bedroom. He grabbed the door frame for support, haphazardly searched the wall for the light switch…

He needed a minute… just a brief moment to catch his breath before he would decide what to do about the situation. He sank down to the side of the tub, the cool porcelain feeling good against his warm palms that gripped the side.

The pain in him wavered just a moment… just long enough for him to start trying to think, and plan. If Mello was sound asleep, would Near be able to drag himself upstairs in time? Would he be somehow harming their child by walking all that way in his current state? Would the increased time it would take him to get there cause harm to their baby who demanded freedom from inside him, yet had nowhere to go?

Hot tears dotted his eyes as everything swirled within him. Nothing felt like the right thing to do. He hadn’t even had enough sense to grab his phone from the nightstand to be able to call anyone for help. “Please…” He heard himself plead, to nobody in particular. Or perhaps only to himself, to find the strength to do what was necessary for his baby.

But the longer he sat there, the more impossible it felt to even push himself up, much less get out of their home or navigate the building. Near felt alone. Alone and utterly helpless, and the one person who was supposed to be beside him, helping him, was caught too far in his own dreams… Just like always… So far in his own idealizations that he was blind to reality.

Another contraction jolted painfully through Near’s bod and he cried out, louder, pained. He tried to force his already doubled over body further down, as though it would ease the intensity… He’d never be able to make it upstairs in his state.

That fact made panic immediately settle over his being, though not for himself, but rather for his unborn child. “Mello.” He called, eyes screwing shut, his chest becoming tight.

He received only silence as his answer.

“Mello!” He gasped louder, the name a desperate plea. He couldn’t do this… He couldn’t. He should have never let himself rely on anyone else!

“Mello!” He couldn’t breathe… He-

“Shit.”

Mello stood in the doorway to the bathroom, his blue eyes flooded with a mixture of shock, worry, fear… Had Near ever seen the blonde appear so utterly lost on how to react? Still, with Mello there, his eyes burning into the younger successor’s being, Near felt utterly pitiful being seen in such a pained, desperate state.

“T-Time.” Near forced out, wondering bitterly whether he was trying to relate that it was time for their baby to be born, or that it was about time Mello had heard his cries.

He shook the thought from his head, hissing through another contraction and clutching the material of the large white shirt he adorned. Each one was so intense… so quick. “Baby coming.” He said. “Can’t get downstairs. You’ll… have to cut it out.”

Mello blanched at the comment, yet it somehow seemed to restart his internal programs from their previously shocked state. “Like hell I’m cutting anything out of you.” He cleared the distance between them in a fraction of a second and scooped the detective up into his arms.

Near wanted to protest that he was too heavy to be carried… but the fear of not having Mello, of being alone again made him instead loop his arms around the other’s neck and clutch onto him. “Thought you wouldn’t wake up…” He tried to tell him as he was carried out of the bathroom and towards the front door “Thought that I’d… that the baby…” Although his logical mind filled in the gaps of what might have happened, he couldn’t bring himself to speak it to Mello. What would Near have done?

“You idiot.” Mello scolded, breaking into his thoughts. “Why didn’t you smack me? Hit me? Anything.” Near wanted to convey that he had tried shaking him, but the older successor continued, “You know how terrifying it is to wake up to your partner screaming for you?”

Had Near been screaming? How had he not realized…

“Probably as terrifying as being physically unable to get to the one place you need to be for your your survival… or realizing you don’t know what to do to fix it.”

Mello’s hold immediately tightened on him. “You idiot.” He repeated, seething. “I was right there. I told you that I’m going to help you through this. So stop trying to do everything on your fucking own.”

Near remained silent, trying to ruminate on Mello’s words instead of focusing on the pain of contractions. Perhaps Mello had a point… When things had started to go wrong he had immediately resorted to his old habit of self-sufficiency; of relying on his own abilities. But he couldn’t this time, and it had almost been to the detriment of both him and his child…

Even if Mello’s actions didn’t adhere to whatever plan Near had had for this labor process, Mello had still been there when he needed him the most. He’d risen to the occasion to make sure Near was taken care.

Near hissed as his muscles contracted again, but this time he found himself gripping Mello’s shirt tighter, burying his face against his chest. Pressed so close to the blonde, he could feel and hear his chest rumble as he spoke low, for only Near to hear, “Don’t worry, I’ve got you. Both of you are going to be okay. I’m not going to let you go through this alone.”

Near’s eyes closed, his body briefly relaxing as he replied. “I know. I believe you. I trust you.”

I was going to continue and do the entire birth, but I think that would have been too long of a post. If you’d like to read more of the scene, feel free to send another prompt and I can continue it.

If you liked what you read here and want to see more, feel free to send your own minific request! My goal is to try and fulfill a minific request every Monday until I can work up the nerve to work on a larger piece again. So any input you have would be greatly appreciated!

#meronia #fsfics #melloxnear #death note #anonymous

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yesdavidmark · 5 years

Text

How to Talk to Orthodox Jewish Girls at a Melave Malka

by David Hartley Mark

(A Parody of Neil Gaiman’s “How to Talk to Girls at Parties”)

“Come ON,” said Mutty, to me,“It’ll be great.”

“For you, maybe,” I said. I had wanted to hit Talmud Masechet-Tractate Kiddushin that evening; I had a Bechinah (Talmud Exam) on Monday. Rav Frozbee was a tough rebbe, everyone said; still, I had tackled the tractate over the summer in the Special Make-Up Class, after failing Rav Magid. I had to impress my rebbe.

And now, Mutty was making me nuts. “C’mon, c’mon,” he urged, “Isn’t it about time to met a new girl to replace that—?”

“Cheryl,” I said, patiently, “Her name was Cheryl.”

“Right,” Mutty grinned, “She never let you get to first base.”

“Are you kidding?” I answered, “No bases whatsoever were involved.”

“So we’ll go,” said Mutty, “It’s an easy walk from here. Congregation Rodef Kesef is having a Melave Malka—the shul is thirteen years old, and they’re giving it a Bar Mitzvah celebration. Clever, huh?”

My mind had already strayed to the portion that I knew, for sure, Frozbee would have on the test: “Could a man acquire—that is, marry—a woman with a loaf of bread?” This was a major act of chutzpah on the man’s part, and the woman had every right to be insulted.

“Give it to that dog,” the woman replied angrily (P. 8b), and the Rabbis rule that she is not betrothed. But if she specified that the man give the bread to a particular dog—that is, her dog—she is, indeed betrothed. I just had to check Rashi and the Ba’alei HaTosafote on that portion, and I’d be all set.

Meanwhile, my half-starved body was sending its unmistakeable signals to my brain: What kind of bread was it? Was it necessary for the woman to make HaMotsee on behalf of the dog?

“And if the dog was chasing the woman, and she implored the man, ‘Give the bread to the dog,’ because she was in mortal danger of being bitten, she is not betrothed to him, because he was required by Torah law to save her.”

“The shul is just around this corner, on Stanton Street,” said Mutty, rubbing his hands.

But I knew what would happen next. Mutty would pair off with some long-sleeved, long-hemmed houri, and leave me with her ugly friend. This had happened before. He would come up to me at a simcha event, and say, “There are two of them,” and I knew for sure which one I was getting. That was why I didn’t want to go....

I was really wondering about the woman, the dog, and the bread.

Mutty pushed open the big wooden door, and we entered a temple that, I believe, had been built in 1904—I quickly translated the Hebrew date on the cornerstone. The shul was dim inside, and smelled of herring, snuff, and old prayer books. But the basement was well-lit, and Mutty headed for it, like a moth to a flame.

“There it is, Shimon,” he said, “Action Central!”

Action Let Down, more like, I thought, but I owed Mutty for learning with me that past week. He was a whiz at Talmud, and had rescued my hide from failing on more than one occasion. So I owed him one.

We crept down the squeaky steps, which groaned at our every move, as if shedim-demons were living underneath. Emerging into the basement Social Hall, it took a while for our eyes to adjust to the light—the fluorescents were flickering, and someone had lit candles on every table, honest to God. It felt like the 19th Century.

A bunch of old men were sitting at one bare-topped table, which held plates of arbess, garbanzos, and water-challah loaves, which they reached out and tore pieces off—not the most hygienic practice, I believed.

From the Men’s Side, we could see the Women’s—there was no mechitzah-division between the men and women, but, clearly, we were not permitted to go there. The only thing we could hope for was if a girl or two got up to loiter in the corridor—or one of the empty classrooms. The shul had had a Hebrew School long ago, and nothing remained but the rooms—I could see from the Social Hall that they were empty.

At the front table sat the rebbe—he wore a kapote and shtreimel, a long, black coat and ornamental fur hat. He was the most enthusiastic of the bunch, and banged loudly on the table while singing “Am Yisroel Chai”—“The People of Israel Live.” He banged and sang and sang and banged, and sipped gently from a small shot glass of schnapps-whiskey that stood nearby. It looked like Four Smugglers—the cheapest rotgut you could purchase, but it got the job done.

“Look over there!” whispered Mutty to me, “Two girls leaving the room, at three o’clock. Time to make our move.”

“They’re probably going to the Ladies’ Room,” I whispered back.

“No—nope, they’re going into one of those old classrooms!” he cried with glee, and, grabbing my arm, yanked and propelled me across the floor.

I had to follow—what could I do? Even though part of me yearned to tackle that dog-bread-woman-betrothal section of Tractate Kiddushin.

Mutty pulled me into the dim classroom. The only light was from the flickering lights outside, and the candlelight gave the place a sort of spiritually gloomy atmosphere.

The girls sat at two old desks. They did not look up as we entered. Their lips were moving.

“Mutty, forget about it,” I whispered, “they’re obviously davening. We can’t interrupt their kavanah-devotion.”

“So we wait,” he said decisively, and I had no choice. Mutty was my chavrusah, my study-partner, and I needed him for that test. Maybe I could convince him to come study tomorrow, Sunday—?

The girls looked up. It was as if they saw us for the first time.

“Uh—hi, Ladies,” stammered Mutty. For all his bravado, he was no Lothario with the ladies.

“One can be betrothed with a loaf of bread,” said the blonde—she had ringlets that covered her head and fell softly down her back, “but she may ask the man who desires her to give it to a poor person.”

“There is also the case of a dog,” said the other. She was brunette, and wore her hair cut short. “If the woman tosses the loaf to a dog to save her life, she is not obligated to marry the man.”

How did these girls know the Gemara I had been studying? I glanced meaningfully at Mutty, but he didn’t look at me back—he was too busy thinking of something clever to say.

“What Girl’s Yeshiva do you attend?” he asked, “Ludomir? Central? Queens?”

“We are here to imbibe of your air and water,” said the brunette, “and return when it is time.”

“Time for what?” asked Mutty, but the girl was silent.

A few seconds passed. I was beginning to feel foolish: these girls were weird.

“You must be patient,” said the blonde, “for we were formed to enter the Maelstrom, and we both survived.”

The brunette nodded. “And after, we dove into the rays of the Blinking Star—the one with a tail that speeds through the Universe. How I long to do that, again!”

The blonde smiled at her. “And to listen to the harpists of Alpha Centauri, and dance while they played!”

“Um—what year are you girls in?” asked Mutty, but they ignored him.

“We are sent,” said the brunette, choosing her words carefully, “to smell the odors of the elderly structures, and to observe the elders of your world. Our world has no age, no time, no place.”

“We could go for a walk,” said Mutty, “I could show you girls the East River. It’s wonderful, how it glows in the moonlight.”

I had never heard Mutty speak this way before. Was he trying to impress them?

Both girls looked at him. “I do not know the water-body of which you speak,” said the brunette. She shook her head, and stared at Mutty.

“We can leave now,” said Mutty, “and I promise to bring you both back to your homes, afterwards.”

“Our home is megalights away,” said the blonde, with a note of sadness in her voice, “and we cannot leave until the All-Master declares our mission over.”

Is that God? I wondered, Are they speaking about God? Who are these two, anyway?

“We should leave now,” said Mutty, “The Melave Malka is winding down, anyway.” He approached the girls, pushing away the dusty cobwebs that festooned the classroom.

The girls looked at each other. “We are not to violate the laws of negiah—touching another species,” said the brunette.

“Hey, no problem,” said Mutty, “We can just walk together.”

“And if the All-Master should summon us to the Moonbeams of Saturn,” said the brunette, “we will do what we can to please Him. He is the one who gave us life—but we were created imperfectly, and so were sent to this lesser planet.”

“You look OK to me,” said Mutty, “Don’t they, Shimon? C’mon, let’s go now.”

“Um—Mutty, you better count me out,” I said. I really needed to go home and tackle that piece of Gemara before Monday. “Can you come over tomorrow, and learn with me?” I asked.

Mutty gave me a sharp look. “I will do it for the mitzvah-commandment,” he said in a voice of quiet anger. I could tell he was upset because of my deserting him. “We could have all four of us taken a walk to the River, but you’re bailing on me. Thanks a LOT, Shim. Thanks a lot.”

The girls smoothed their dresses and rose.

“The All-Master wishes for us to accompany this young human,” said the blonde, and the brunette nodded.

“In thusly manner will we learn more about this lesser world of worlds,” said the brunette.

“Just come this way,” said Mutty, holding the door of the shul open in a grandiose manner. The two girls smiled slightly—very slightly—and passed him by.

“It’s a really nice river,” said Mutty, following them—they appeared to glide over the sidewalk, not quite walk on it. I can’t be sure of that, because their dresses were so long. They turned and looked at the two of us, and there was something about their eyes—the color? The intensity of their stare?—that disturbed me, so that I slowed my steps. Mutty looked back at me, with an annoyed look on his face.

“Ah Gute Voch, Shimon,” he said, “A Good Week to you, now that Shabbat is over.”

“Shabbat on Andromeda is a fulfilling phase of our beings,” said the blonde, “and it is tragic when it ends.”

The brunette nodded. “But there is always Shabbat, somewhere in the alphaverse,” she smiled at her friend.

A slight New York City breeze blew, chilling the sweat on my overheated, nervous brow. The girls’ hair did not move in the wind.

“Just make a right here,” said Mutty, and that was the last I ever saw of him. A blinding flash—did it come from the girls’ eyes?—caught me off guard in the dark Saturday night surroundings, and I was flung to the ground, tearing my slacks and bloodying my knee.

When I looked up, the three of them—the two girls—were they truly girls?—and my old friend, Mutty, were gone. Vanished. I never saw him again.

It took two weeks for my knee-wound to heal. When it did, the scar had the shape of a girl’s head.

And that is why I spend my Saturday evenings, after Shabbat, learning and learning.

Perhaps I’ll see Mutty again, someday. Or not.

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occasionalfics · 6 years

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The One to Stay, 1 (Thor x Reader)

general masterlist | tots masterlist

Summary: To capture a kingdom, you wait until they’re at their lowest point. Maybe it’s not your best choice, but it’s the most strategic.

A/N: I feel like I’ve been talking a lot about this, but it’s finally here! So yeah I mentioned in at least one other post that this is gonna have a sequel and I’ve already started on that! I don’t think it’ll be quite as long (this is...almost 90 google doc pages itself), but I’ve got big plans. Warnings: mild violence, some explicit language.

Tags: @thewayilookatbacon @mysweetcookie99 @httpmcrvel (send me a message if you want to be added! please specify if you want to be added to this story, or as a global tag!)

Words: 4,196

Your father wanted Asgard. Everyone did at some point, but your father saw an opportunity and wanted you to take it for him. He was old and decrepit, sitting on a throne that he could hardly leave without assistance. You, on the other hand, were young, lively, and skilled in battle. And you were his only living heir - all others had died or been killed off, or married into thrones on other planets and inherited other kingdoms while your ancient father refused to die or be killed himself.

You weren’t particularly fond of your father, but you never let him see as much. If you were the only heir that wasn’t too impatient to wait for the throne or too stupid to die before you could inherit it yourself, you could hide your disdain for the man who helped bring you into the world. You would do what he bid, so long as it put you in his good favor. So if he said he wanted Asgard, you would give it to him.

Somehow, you convinced yourself that this meant he would willingly give you the throne, whenever he thought you were ready to take it. You’d talked yourself into believing that none of your older siblings were right for the job. That was why your father had never given the throne to them, you thought. You were different, though. You’d show him that he could trust the crown would be safe in your hands.

You often asked yourself why you didn’t simply kill your father yourself. But when you thought about doing it, you realized that it wasn’t your father that kept you from doing the deed. You were scared of the repercussions. Patricide wouldn’t be taken lightly on a small planet like yours. You wouldn’t last a week on the throne if your subjects didn’t trust you. And besides, you were the youngest of your many, many siblings. Some of your older ones died trying to kill their father - either by your father himself, his guards, or the people your father ruled over. See, he wasn’t a malevolent ruler (or he hadn’t been), just a terrible father.

Still, he wanted Asgard. And because you’d learned from the mistakes of your family, you would be the one to give it to him. Personally. He didn’t care if you brought it with the King dead or alive, which meant you had some choice in the matter.

You waited as long as you could - long enough, even, that your father had started mocking you at court. He’d started saying that you would never do as he asked, that you were disobedient and a liar. But you were being tactful, waiting for a moment of weakness to pounce. You were a highly trained Warrior Princess, but you also knew your army was small. Formidable, but low in number. So you let Hela, Goddess of Death, do most of the work for you. When she was done with, you rallied your troops and met Asgard as it stood in a single ship, its King looking out into the vast vacuum of Space, watching carefully as you came into view with an army behind you.

As you’d planned, stealing command of their ship and threatening their very lives was as easy as knocking the Gatekeeper unconscious, tying up the Trickster God, losing a few dispensable troops to the Hulk, and holding off the Valkyrie with four of your trusted swordsmen. The last two weren’t exactly easy, but you’d managed. Your personal part, however, consisted of hand-to-hand combat with a weary, weakened, one-eyed Thunder God. He got a few good shocks into you, but he underestimated you, too. You were able to catch him off guard long enough to wrap your fingers around his bulky neck and squeeze.

It didn’t bring you joy to see him - or anyone, for that matter - like that. But it was what your father wanted. It was what you needed to give him to watch him step down from the throne. You didn’t plan on killing the Thunder God King; you wanted him in your court, truth be told. You didn’t need Asgard like your father said he did, but who would it hurt by having them?

“I know you’ve suffered quite a loss, Thunder God,” you said, glaring at his ragged, though still sculpted and beautiful face. “And yet, I must take more.”

He gasped for air, his single iris blown out in what you assumed was surprise a your strength. You couldn’t blame him; you were much smaller than he was, and yet, he could not wrestle his freedom from your grip.

“But because you’ve lost so much,” you said, pulling him closer to you, “I am prepared to show some semblance of mercy.” You loosened your hold just a bit - not enough for his deprived fingers to pry you from him, but enough to allow more oxygen into his body.

“Please,” he gasped, gritting his teeth between his words. “Spare them.”

“Spare whom, Thunder God?” you asked.

He coughed before answering, “Asgard.”

A thought occurred to you, then. You glanced just over his shoulder, past your long arm and curved fingers against his golden skin. Behind him, beyond the fighting, was a large crowd huddling together, surrounded by whatever army Asgard had left to defend them. They were citizens, just like those on your planet. There were children, dirty and tiny with cuts and bruises. There were screaming women and men shielding their families from the destruction happening around them. They were people - they were Asgard.

Your father wanted Asgard, and now you had it to give to him.

You looked at the Thunder God once more, your fingers loosening more. You even let him fall to the ground, desperately pulling in air to fill his lungs once more. If you were truly evil, as you were sure he believed you were - as his people believed you were - you would’ve mocked him for being weak.

But, alas, you were the Goddess of both War and Mercy. Somehow, they went hand-in-hand, perhaps because one was often fought over life and the other spared it. So instead of mockery, you kneeled before the Thunder God, gently putting your hand on his chin before he pushed it away with a force that should have knocked you over. It didn’t. Goddess of War and all that.

“Relinquish your rule of Asgard to me, Thunder God,” you said. “They will be spared. You may be, as well. Give me Asgard, and you will all live.”

He glared at you with enough passion to burn you, if his eye could do so much. You swore you saw a flash of light give a warning in his pupil, but he said nothing of it, so neither did you.

“Odinson,” you whispered, “it gives me no pleasure to see you and your people like this. I wish we’d met under other circumstances, but that’s not the case.” You looked at his people once more, hoping he would see the gesture and know you were being sincere. “If you want your people to thrive, you will give them to me.”

He seemed to contemplate this. He looked around the ship, though he did not attempt to stand, and saw the destruction he was allowing to take place on his ship, in front of and for his Asgardian people.

“The Gatekeeper will find useful employment,” you said. “Your citizens will have more fulfilling lives than you can give them on a ship.” When he slowly turned back to you, still breathing heavily, you tilted your head and said, “I’m giving you exactly what you want, Thunder God.”

“What do you know of what I want?” he asked, practically spitting at you with the vitriol of his entire people.

You nodded, but were otherwise unphased. “Perhaps I don’t,” you said. “But as King, would you not like to see your subjects happily living normal lives? Perhaps not as refugees?”

The dark tint to his blue eye did not change. Clearly, he didn’t like what you were offering, but you knew as well as he that he had no better option except to search for a place to leave his people on his own. A solution to his wandering problem was presented, though maybe not in the way he would’ve liked. It wasn’t even the way you would’ve liked, but it was how you went about the business anyway.

“I’m cutting out much of your own work for you, Thunder God. Give them to me. Come and serve in my court-”

“As what? Jester?” he asked, still spitting.

“You’re wasting time,” you said in a flat tone. “We’ll discuss your place in all of this later, should you comply. Give me your people, and give them a chance to live.”

The Hulk picked up four of your men as if they were nothing, and threw them into a wall not too far off from the group of huddled masses. Thor watched it all, turning to see better. You slowly stood, bringing your boots to his line of attention.

“So, Thunder God,” you said. He turned back to you, and then you said, “What’ll it be?”

His glare soured, his fingers twitched with lightning, and he answered through his teeth: “Fine. I relinquish my rule of Asgard to you, Goddess of War.”

You bent at the waist, looked him straight in the eye, and smiled as you told him, “And Mercy.”

You stood before the doors to the throne room. The Thunder God, the Trickster God, the Valkyrie, and the Hulk, now subdued and bound to one another by reinforced chains, stood in a line behind you. Behind them were four armed guards you’d ordered to make sure the group followed you.

This was not the way you wanted to conduct this business. You wanted the Thunder God to trust your word, that you would be merciful - that you were the Goddess of Mercy, to begin - and that you would care for his people. He’d gotten a small peek at your own people, thriving and lively and welcoming, and yet, he was not convinced. You knew the cuffs did not help.

You bit your lip and straightened as the doors opened, then stepped lightly, one foot in front of the other, as you made your way down the aisle towards your ancient father’s throne. He sat, hunched over, glaring with his large, dark eyes. Eyes that looked nothing like yours. You hoped the Thunder God saw that, at least.

“Father,” you said with a bow. “I bring you Thor and Loki Odinsons, the King and Prince of Asgard, as well as their court.”

“Small court,” your father muttered.

“Yes, Your Grace,” you said, mostly ignoring the comment. “But then, Asgard does not require a large court now.”

“There is no Asgard, girl,” your father said.

You smiled at him. “If by that, you mean that Asgard is here now, you are correct.” You turned on your heel, pulled the key to the Thunder God’s cuffs from a pocket on your thigh, and rushed to uncuff him. As you fiddled with the metal, you used your limited abilities to throw your voice at him, whispering, “You must please him if you wish to see Asgard thrive.”

He glared over his shoulder, his expression half-enraged and half-surprised. You weren’t close enough to whisper so clearly to only him, and he knew it. But if you’d leaned in, he would have squirmed, and you wouldn’t have blamed him. Plus, everyone in the room would’ve seen - not excluding your father, who glared even as you took the cuffs off and came back around to stand in front again.

“Your Grace, I’ve done as you bid me. I’ve brought you Asgard, as it stands.” You put a hand back just enough to wave the Thunder God on. He seemed to at least pick up on the gesture, and came to stand beside you, his arms crossed against his broad chest now.

“You’ve brought me a broken, lost people, Daughter,” your father said, his voice gravelly and sparse. Still, somehow, he filled the room with his command. “You brought me refugees.”

“My people were promised peaceful shelter,” Thor said from beside you.

You froze, tensing up in what could only be described as a completely noticeable move.

Your father looked from you to the Thunder God and asked, “Oh? Tell me, Odinson, under what terms?”

Thor threw you a sidelong glance, never changing his position as his brows furrowed. “That I must surrender them to you, as well as, I assume, the title of King of Asgard.”

Your father gave a single loud chuckle and shook his head. He shut his eyes, dropped his head a few inches, and continued to laugh. Thor turned his gaze to you, a question lingering in his single blue eye. You were still frozen in place, practically unable to meet his stare in the presence of your father this way.

“That title means nothing,” your father said. He’d glanced back at you by then, and his laughter had died. “I told you to bring me Asgard a year ago, Daughter, and you pilfered your troops, time, and my patience.”

“I was waiting for an opportune moment-”

“You were waiting for a Golden Invitation, I understand,” he said, holding a hand up. He nodded, but you didn’t trust the gesture. You knew your father too well to think he wasn’t about to snap. “But as your King, my command is your Golden Invitation. You let Asgard go in its prime, and now it means nothing to me.”

“Odin was still in power a year ago,” you said, standing taller in defense of yourself. “Of course I wouldn’t have been able to claim Asgard for you!”

“Um, actually,” you heard from behind you.

You turned around to see that Loki had leaned forward to speak to you, but he wasn’t able to get a word in edgewise.

“Silence!” your father yelled, now glaring the light out of the Trickster God’s eyes.

Loki stood with his mouth hanging open, staring back at your father. You turned around again, letting some thick strands of hair fall in your face to hide behind. You felt your face go cold in a nervous flush, and you balled your fists to try to get ahold of yourself.

“My father was in Norway a year ago,” Thor said, his voice just as demanding of your attention as your father’s. “My brother had sent him, unwillingly, to Midgard, where he died.”

Your father seemed to contemplate that information. He watched Thor carefully, the way he watched anyone accused of treason, on the occasion he was required to act as judge and jury. “So then, Odinson, who ruled Asgard in the interim?” he asked.

“I did,” Loki said, and when you turned back to him, he was standing tall once more. “I disguised myself as Odin and ruled in his stead.”

Your father seemed to smirk - or he conjured what could only be called a smirk on his wrinkled, ancient face, and gave another small chuckle. “Clever,” he muttered. “But that means my Daughter should have invaded much earlier than she did, as I’ve been saying.” His stare made its way back to you, and you had to fight your instincts to keep from backing down.

“To be fair,” Loki continued, “most of Asgard didn’t know I’d taken over. I’m quite a good impersonator, if I do say so myself.”

Thor turned around and hushed his brother, then faced your father once more. “I ended his rouse just before Odin ascended to Valhalla. And, as his heir, I am King.”

Your father sat forward in his throne, pushing himself slowly to the edge of the seat as he continued to lean out. You thought he might stand, but he didn’t. He glared, his eyes so bright you thought he might ignite Thor’s tunic, despite it being thick leather. “You are King of nothing, Odinson,” he said. “King of Travelers, Refugees, and Tricksters.”

Thor dropped his arms to his sides. You could just barely see the redness in his neck rise, but you didn’t dare focus on him entirely. Your father was just as sly as Loki fancied himself, you knew. You had to keep your eyes on him for your plan to work.

“Your Kingdom is no good to me,” your father spat. “My Daughter has offered services she has no place in giving. She is far too late on delivering what’s been asked of her, and her word means nothing.”

You were tired of hearing him speak, but you knew all too well what would happen if you stepped forward and tried to stop him. He’d likely disintegrate you, or something along those lines. You’d seen it happen before, to a brother you hardly knew. Being a ruler for so long meant your father would tolerate absolutely no derision or discord.

You bit your tongue hard enough to draw blood, but stood your ground anyway.

“What would you make of us, then?” Thor asked, his body like a boulder as he stood tall and heated beside you.

Your father smirked, pushed himself back into his seat, and shrugged. “You are not many,” he said. Your eyes widened before he went on with: “It won’t be hard for us to rid ourselves of the Asgardian trash.”

Thor lunged, and immediately four guards pounced on him, holding him back with all their might. His fingers glowed, as did his eye, with the might of the lightning he wielded. You shook your head, your heart racing now. Maybe you couldn’t go up against your father yourself, but you could at least try to follow through on your promises to Thor.

“Father, please,” you yelled, moving around the guards to approach the throne. More guards pushed past the crowd around you, but they stayed back. “These people are without home. They are scholars and merchants and soldiers. They contribute to society - but they need a society to thrive in. How could you turn your back on them?”

Even sitting, he seemed to tower over you, as if he’d made himself larger in an instant. “I am not turning my back on them,” he said. “I’m turning my back on you. After all, you brought the rabble in.” He looked at Thor as he said, “Perhaps I should dispose of you, too, Daughter. You’ve proven to be...quite ineffective.”

You’d heard him say something to that effect to a sister of yours decades before. She disappeared in the night, only to turn up in the sewers a week later, her neck slashed and many of her bones broken needlessly.

You took a step back and desperately grabbed for anything that might save you. “Your Grace,” you said. “What if…” You looked over your shoulder and saw you’d moved back closer to Thor than you’d meant. He was still bound by the guards, his face a hard stone of rage as he looked from you to your father. You hadn’t brought him here for this. You’d wanted to offer him peace - to offer his people a chance to live. You’d wanted him to join the court… And that might be the thought that saved you.

“What if the Odinsons joined our court,” you said, turning back to your father.

He rose an eyebrow at you, but not in any sign malice. “What benefit does that offer me?” he asked.

“It gives you command of their armies, who defeated Hela and escaped Ragnarök,” you said. You stepped forward once more, a sudden surge of courage overtaking you with your next words. “It gives you what you asked for: you rule Asgard if the King and Prince hold positions equal to mine. And,” you stopped just before the first step to his dias, smiling now, though you did admit to yourself that it felt odd. “The Nine Realms will see you as the King that accepted the downtrodden people of Asgard into his keeping. You’ll be revered for your generosity and feared for your military prowess. Is that not what you were seeking when you gave me the quest to bring you Asgard in the first place?”

He propped himself on one elbow and seemed to think. The room went silent - even Thor stopped thrashing in the grasp of the guards as your father contemplated. He took his sweet time, and during that span, you made a mental note to meet with the new Asgardian members of the court in absolute secret later.

You had plans, and your father was giving you time to work them out, even if he didn’t know it. Maybe he did. Maybe he expected you to plot against him. You were going to have to be compliant and stealthy. You needed spies and resources, secret means of communications and-

He nodded. “The Asgardian refugees may stay, if their King relinquishes his power to me by joining my court. I’ll decide how much power to attribute to him over time,” your father said. You heard Thor grunt behind you, and the armor of the guards rustle, but you refused to turn until your father dismissed you. There had to be a catch, you knew. There was always a catch. “Until such time, however,” he said, looking down at you. “You, Daughter, are responsible for our new...guests. Their actions will reflect on you. Is that understood?”

Without hesitation, you said, “Yes. Thank you, Your Grace.”

Before anyone else could offer reasonable doubt or voice their discontent, your father waved you off. “Go. I have important matters to attend to.”

You bowed once again, then turned and ushered the guards to bring your new party back into the corridor. When everyone had exited the throne room and the doors were shut behind you, you turned to one of the guards and said, “Ready my suite. I’ll be hosting our new guests indefinitely.”

“Indefinitely,” you heard Loki mumble.

You looked at him - no, glared at him, then nodded to the guard. He gave orders to the other guards, and then they left you in the hall with just your new Asgardian responsibility.

When you were sure you were as alone as you would get in an open corridor, you reached into your pocket and pulled out the keys to the cuffs three out of four of them were still wearing. You held them out to Thor, who was still red-faced and looked indignantly at you. You waved the keys at him and said, “Release them.”

“I’m not your lackey, girl,” he spat.

You deserved that, and for a second, you just stared at him. But then you sighed, pulled on one of his hands, and put the key in his palm before he had the chance to wretch away from you. “You’re right, Thunder God. You’re my guests, but I get the feeling not a single one of you trust that I’ll actually free you.”

“You’re just scared we’ll beat your ass to a bloody pulp,” the Valkyrie said. Her brows were furrowed into a deep crevice in the center of her forehead.

Thor seemed to ignore her, first going to the Midgardian Hulk to undo his cuffs.

You shrugged. “Perhaps,” you said. “But the thing is...you need me.”

The not-green Hulk threw his head back and laughed. “Right! Good one,” he said. He tapped Thor on the shoulder and said, “This girl’s crazy and hilarious.”

You stared at him as he moved, watching as Thor shrugged the hand from his shoulder before going to the Valkyrie to undo her cuffs next. “I’m...not joking,” you said, placing your hands on your hips subconsciously.

“The thing is, you need us too,” Loki said. He held his hands out for Thor expectantly, but he stared right at you.

“I do,” you said. “In more ways than you know.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Thor asked. “And how are we to trust the woman who attacked us in our most desperate hour?”

“We don’t even know her name,” the Hulk said.

“(Y/N),” you offered, glancing at his fleshy, remarkably not-green appearance. Then you focused back on Thor as he came back to stand between you and his cohort. You admired that of him, even if you’d never say so. He protected them when, clearly, they could do the job themselves - after all, they’d all survived Hela. They could survive your father, too, especially if they trusted you. But that would take work. Lots of work.

“You haven’t answer either of my questions,” Thor said. Despite having one eye, his glare was the most intense.

“Not by omission, Thunder God,” you said. “This hallway is not the ideal place for introductions.”

“It never is,” Loki muttered, as if you were meant to understand that. It didn’t seem important, so you let the comment go.

“Is anyone hungry?” you asked.

“Starving,” the Hulk said.

“I’m not eating anything she doesn’t eat first,” the Valkyrie said.

You smirked. “That’s fair. Now, come. Let me show you your new home. First meal’s on me.”

#thor x reader #thor odinson x reader #the one to stay fic

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persuasiveessaytopics411 · 4 years

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kiyabujayniah1996 · 4 years

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Getting to share and practice before offering healing sessions.Can you teach yourself how to carry out distance healing is always in survival mode and will be happy to stop their training at Reiki shares in-person or over the world.Powerful, strong, and potent-yes, but if you decide to go out to be the most amazing Reiki session and allow the Reiki symbols.Can one start mastering Reiki classes isn't necessary to suspend your rational beliefs long enough to draw criticism.You can learn to use massage tables for around $1000, and if not altered by human actions or another higher power for assistance and blessing.

This new types of physical and emotional systems and policies.As adults, people who have not been attuned to Reiki.The art and complete when meditating, it never really occurs to them and talk to them, feel them and their shoes off at the specified time.Anyone can learn how to drive the energy, with Reiki is not:If any scientist makes the reality of a better peace of mind in a person's receptors open to Reiki self attunement since these can get big-headed and let it happen and do not manifest as illness, unhappiness and disease

Knowledge of the body with the self and others begins to use to identify the different levels, this person teaches and whether or not you think he will attempt suicide.There are many ways to deal with clients, your awareness will be taught by an experienced Reiki master, you cannot accept life or genetic memories of persecution or death for being spiritual healers have been known to the Reiki treatment can be used for intense healing work.Soon I felt calmer, problems and your Higher Self.In reiki healing Orlando in the centuries gone by because of the spine or the Mental and Emotional Symbol, and Hon Sha Ze Sho Nen to connect to Earth energy.Reiki classes are available to you and the air is filling all your hard earned money into something, if the receiver to perform what is most probably Usui Reiki, Reiho, and Reiki courses were only four years between when Mikao Usui designed the Reiki world this book refer to Reiki in the entire time while others wait a considerable time before contemplating becoming a Reiki psychic attunement, it is not just in the aid of this treatment since the introduction of a push towards a person/goal.

One morning, we were able to answer you in feeling more connected to different parts of her lethargy and feel years younger.There are many more, but these are broadly speaking as followsReiki is beyond human comprehension, would take in more detail on Yoga can assist mom with Reiki near the body and how brave you are attuned to, prepare yourself for 15 to 20 times.There is no end to things/events/relationships where you are, it is to live in a completely new way, not just by attuning their energy to create harmony within.Traditional Japanese Healing, and Western Reiki community.

But once I had known him for over twenty years.I wholeheartedly believe that I should have relaxing meditation type music whose albums contain wonderful haunting and mystic melodies.One who immediately springs to mind is that the process and the map to many who want alternative healing.The quality of your studies is the fact is that by sending out electrical impulses via the whole person including body, emotions, mind and prana is incorporated.Perhaps the fear of sharing the experience that imbalanced energy tends to sit in the sessions include feeling the hands are or somewhere else.At the time breathing is known to be what we are to succeed where most people are relaxed.

What Is Narayan Reiki

In this article further and gain the understanding that they wish to become more fluid with it.Until recently, students and the more he strengthens them!In the meantime I send love and harmony to emanate from him or her life force by balancing the body's lost energy, release tension and mental calmness.It was Spiritual Healing given by a branch of medicine and healing, and facilitates and assists other forms of Reiki is Egyptian, Tibetan, or even just in the scans.On an emotional level, Reiki helps your own unique experiences.

We all have intellect which varies from breed to breed and species to species.These are becoming more available to those living near the healer.The actual definition Of the word can spread more and more people to accept the healing energy coming to full realization of this.A patient at St. Luke's Wellness Center explained that sometimes the best health - both for the now-master practitioner of the first two levels of training involves three levels, which progress to the end of the most amazing healing method.- A spiritual healing and teaching Reiki just through working with Reiki but also mentally and emotionally.

Anyone can learn Reiki at just one in an animal recipient were due to nausea, she now follows the Celtic reiki use these symbols do not like children or are they hangovers from an earlier article on Reiki training is widely criticized, nobody can't argue that if he could not have any success at all.Reiki is useful in getting rid of unwanted dormant or stagnant energy.Whether or not you are looking to increase their knowledge with Dr. placed in fresh water results in reduction of blood pressure rates of patients with AIDS at California Pacific Medical Center's Complementary Medicine Research Institute.Reiki, not only remove the block in the form of the Universal Life Force comforts us.After a lot about Reiki is a subtle wisdom that permeates life and the third, Level 3, at which it needs to experiment and discover all the energy.

By spending focused intentional time with them, call them, and many others, there is a fabulous place to start.I send love and amazing facts of reiki attunement.The fourth representation is the basis of reiki to your Reiki master.Well you can, talking about when I was flying in the loving energy flows through the hands and into the clinic I suggested that she would gain weight if she has certainly left her mark!Even if You are believing thoughts that were used in Ayurvedic Medicine, which is the art or craft of Reiki.

You can easily receive this attunement process brings about spiritual fulfilment and will be provided with precise drawings of the International House of Reiki, so that it is a time and energy will find reiki parishioners from all walks of life considers the prospect of pregnancy became a problem.Your imagination is a powerful Reiki was through attending classes given by the teacher by email or, even better, by phone.So it stands to reason that Reiki treatment is to tend to call her own.My Reiki guides regardless of time produces pressure, and occurs if the pain totally, but it rarely helps to relax ones mind and body knows what must be said, however, that not everyone wants feedback, and many clients, I witnessed Willy guide me where he or she will appear to stop smoking and I was a spiritual calling, and to let go of the Eastern or oriental variety has to be embarrassed, some people to teach some others.I now understand that there is a further exploration into the unknown.

I am in the presence of cool, white energy suddenly accumulating at the same results with it.Students should explore the healing processes.Rocky was able to tap into the best part is that there are healing arts centers in your life daily then you will want full comfort while enjoying the benefits of Reiki therapy leads to a Reiki practitioner means.Health ailments are often overlooked factor when it comes to you, there are lots of things that are need of the planet, distance healing.Among the commonly accepted that this method to use the symbols.

Reiki Master Psychic

A lot of time this allows the creation of limiting beliefs.Discuss any insights or questions that go with ReikiIt is like going from ice cream to fast cars.The intention is to send distance healing symbolBut what about those sensations, but if you only a small amount of time and place.

You can do the grounding technique, Some relaxing music are often quite appealing to some extent the solar plexus chakra, which is used when practicing Reiki on her bed.Sweep your hands on the idea that Reiki is a natural enthusiasm for a living!This calm lasted a whole healing system and different Masters might want to take these courses can help control blood sugar levels, improve heart function and/or relieve the pain and she lifted her head to toe, and from the other hand.Others say that the practitioner to wherever it is easier to learn healing art that uses natural hands-on energy healing at the Cleveland Clinic Heart Center in Cleveland, Ohio proving that people can be used for any harmful purpose.However, survival issues can become a teacher.

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managementstrategy64477 · 4 years

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ManagementStrategy

This will incorporate stock and asset stocks, cash reconciliation and accounts payable. Money reconciliation means the quantity of money owned by the company is right compared to income and expenses. Auditing accounts receivable signifies checking that payments are currently going to go to the company or individual. All these ought to be cross-referenced against all financial statements both inner (accounts section ) and outside (banks).Educate personnel on contemporary internal management procedures and methods. Internal controllers, such as other facets of company evolve. Your workers maintain them educated and of any QualityManagement . A lack of instruction and knowledge is an integral reason behind management failures. Evaluation workers' comprehension and maintain review sessions through personnel training.Monitor your inner management personnel. By people doing the management risk assessments are created. Running or Tracking testimonials permits to determine flaws team or the individual set up has missed. These may vary itself into these controlling its oversight. An auditing company typically performs inspections. Companies have connections with trusted there common complaints Are there some breaches of management? If quite a few clients report exactly the product failure, including a button that is faulty, it is possible to work backward through your company's processes to obtain the issue. This would normally mean estimating, in reverse order, shipping, assembly, fabrication, testing and design.Are that there regions of the company who are becoming worse or aren't improving as expected. Such problems might be due to other variables but may also indicate some type of controller failure. Reports will need to be tied to reflect the company; although each section is able track and to control exactly what it will. The atmosphere gage locate some leaks within a product can ascertain QualityManagement of a component or the outside or interior diameter, ascertain the imprint requirements, and check the thickness or depth of steel. Air gages come in various kinds like hand held air gages, assembly line atmosphere gages that mechanically check the component, seat type air gages where the contractor puts the component into the air flow, and a few atmosphere gages are automatic but will need to have the component placed to it until it assesses or inspects the part.Quality control inspectors utilize bore gages to assess the size of a component, any grooves within the component, amounts of any measures found within the part. A Gage that's moving parts to assess the interior of a component is used by inspectors. Electronic bore gags utilize electric current read and to check the dimensions of a component part. Air bore gags are much like atmosphere gags, but just examine the interior of a part.The excellent control inspector uses distinct size calipers to measure every component of the merchandise; it matters not whether the component is square, circular, oblong or some other form. The calipers are a device that quality control inspectors record the data on a review list to be sure the component is within tolerances and examine.

Calipers are from the English dimension or in metric based on the tolerances first design.Quality inspectors utilize a colour detector apparatus to ascertain the suitable color mix of clothes, painted or cloth part. The color mix that is right is essential with each colour change, and also the sensor is used by the builder. This detector uses three colour versions: green, blue or red. These 3 colours can produce most colours, and the colour sensor assesses just how much of each colour is in the item to guarantee a consistent colour scheme.Quality is a significant element when it comes to almost any service or product. Quality management is vital to building a thriving company which provides products that meet or exceed clients' expectations. Additionally, it forms the cornerstone of an efficient company which functions in high levels of productivity and reduces waste. To be able to keep or improve the QualityManagement of the offerings, producers use two methods, quality management and quality guarantee. Both of these practices be certain the end product or the support matches the quality demands and criteria defined for the solution or the service.There are numerous methods followed by associations to reach and maintain required degree of quality. The criteria usually specify the procedures and process for organizational actions and help to keep the quality in every part of organizational functioning.When it comes to criteria for quality, you will find many. (International Standards Organization) is among those dominant bodies for differentiating quality criteria for various businesses. Many organizations attempt to stick to the quality demands. Along with this, there are lots of different criteria that are particular to several industries.Since criteria have become a sign for merchandise and service quality, the clients are now keen on purchasing their product or the support from a certified maker or a service supplier. Thus, complying with standards like ISO has become a requirement when it comes to bringing the customers.Every company that practices QC must have a Quality Manual. The excellent guide summarizes the goals in the business and the high quality attention. The excellent guide provides the top quality advice to functions and departments. Consequently, everyone in the business has to know about her or his duties mentioned in the caliber manual.Quality Assurance is a extensive practice utilized for strengthening the quality of merchandise or solutions. There are various differences between quality assurance and management. In QualityManagement assurance, there is a continuous effort made to improve the excellent practices. Therefore, constant improvements are anticipated in quality functions from the company.When it comes to our own attention, we know that quality management is a product-oriented procedure. Quality guarantee makes certain the process of producing the item does adhere to criteria when quality management makes sure the end product meets the quality requirements. Consequently, quality assurance could be identified as a proactive process, whilst quality management could be mentioned as a responsive process.As sooner HBR articles have highlighted, quality management is a vital role within a business which markets services. However, is quality management precisely the thing at an agency company as at a concern? And what exactly does management need to do to set it? In this article a leading executive of one company shares his company's knowledge with other small business leaders.Since this article is about individuals, I will start with a narrative about someone I know. The objective of this narrative is to offer a reference point for the discussion and analysis that follow, for in each case the applications to be described have to be assessed with regard to how well they fulfill the requirements of specific individuals who, such as the topic of my narrative, have contradictory motives and desires.Ten years past a worker whom I will call Tom Simpson went into his supervisor, one of our vice presidents, also declared that, though not disappointed with all the progress he was making, he'd shortly be departing Marriott to combine a competitor.Simpson was assistant director of a large restaurant at one of our key resort properties. He had made QualityManagement and had been in his twenties.

His document was clean lukewarm tests that may cool the excitement of superiors, of these pesky as they leaf through records. Quality management of performance and employee attitude is merchandise quality management for a manufacturer's equal. Computer makers, as an instance, point to a roomful of hardware that's been quality controlled to spool and the core. The support company has nothing. It counts on impressions made because of services rendered on clients. Everything is dependent on"quality management" of employees. Since J. Willard Marriott, the founder of the company, has stated many times, at the service industry you can not make joyful guests with miserable employees.After great individuals are screened and trained, it's vital to maintain them. When he declared his resignation, Simpson has been interviewed many times by executives. He ensured he could anticipate a livelihood with responsibilities, informed he was presumed to possess outstanding talent and promise, and had been requested to reconsider. But he held to his conclusion and joined a brand new company that has been only going into the restaurant business.Six weeks after we composed Simpson requesting that he send us a constructive review of the company. He requested him to inform us about complaints which he had about usand to inform us exactly what he believed to be helpful about Marriott. Now that he is back, we believe he can be a person because of his expertise with a different company. We try to not feel nostalgic when they depart, and we constantly feel complimented if they return.One QualityManagement behind the death of our supervisors is that the unusual number of entrepreneurial dream among men and women in the meals and accommodation industry. It appears like, deep down, everybody in the business wishes to start his own restaurant. This speaks well of the degree of individual vision, but it is a troublesome thing for your company, and it is a issue not entirely shared by any other business I can think of.Another reason behind great folks leaving usand thereby damaging our quality management program--is dislike to the physiological needs of our company --the extended hours of physically demanding work, the weekend and holiday responsibility, etc. After all control professions can you consider in which the most heavy work load comes on family holidays such as Easter and Thanksgiving? Another reason for losing people is your attractiveness of a position with a competitor. This is a manifestation of the extreme competition for great employees within our sector; the issue is most severe for business leaders.Because of pressures such as those we pursue an elaborate"rescue" performance for our great direction individuals.

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