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tawakkull · 3 years

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ISLAM 101: Spirituality in Islam: Part 121

Irshad and Murshid (Guidance and the Guide)

Guidance is defined in different ways, among which are directing to the right path, awakening hearts to the Ultimate Truth, helping feelings and thoughts reach God by removing the obstacles between Him and people’s minds and hearts, and serving as a means for the souls to have some acquaintance with God, and for the souls who have acquired acquaintance with Him to deepen in their relationships with Him. It consists of educating people individually or in communities and, thus, elevating those endowed with the required capability and merit from among them from being potentially human to being really human, or directing them to the horizon of being perfect humans.

We can also see guidance as a call which a perfect teacher, who has full knowledge of the outer and inner aspects of the Religion and who is able to combine them in theory and practice, makes to those endowed with the required capabilities to be human at a certain level of humanity. From this perspective, we can regard guidance as the special efforts of heroes of spirituality to convey to others whatever of spirituality they have particularly been favored with. In the hands of such heroes, coal has always been transformed into diamonds, and rocks and soil have been raised to the level of gold. The teachers of Sufism have dealt with the matter of guidance and guides in this respect and have considered it as the superhuman effort of those with transcendent qualities. They do not regard endeavors at a low level as guidance, nor do they consider as guides those who are unable to open the doors to the horizon of perfect humanity for souls with the required capabilities. For these, themselves, are in need of guidance and must certainly be trained. A famous Turkish proverb states:

A guide who himself is in need of special favor Cannot know how he can impart favor to others! It is truly as if this proverb has been coined in regard to such people. [1]

voices the same consideration in a poetic way:

Our teacher himself suffers from a lack of knowledge, So how can he know what guidance really is? Ruhi of Baghdad[2] approached the matter a bit more humorously:

Look at the ascetic: he aspires to be a guide; He started school yesterday, today he wishes to teach. It is a fact that if there is one thing that is the most enduring in this world and the most meritorious in the Hereafter, it is guidance; and therefore a guide is the most valuable person. However, guides can only educate according to their own capacity. It is possible to talk of a wide range of guides, from the spiritual poles or axes to ordinary preachers.

As we have briefly mentioned, guides are, in a general sense, heralds of truth who possess whatever is necessary for guidance, heroes of spirituality, and heirs to the mission of Prophethood, who convey Divine gifts to the hearts. In regard to some aspects of this mission, a guide is also called a “sitter-on-rug” (postnishin), or the “elder one” (shaykh). The word shaykh is also used in the sense of teacher or professor. A guide favored with special nearness to God and special knowledge from God’s Presence, and charged and autho- rized with the duty of guidance, is different from an ordinary preacher. Ordinary guides find in themselves the truths to be imparted to others according to their own horizon of perception, and convey them to others in accordance with their capacity. However, perfect guides, like the North Star, direct all to the true way, based on the fundamental sources of the Religion, and present to others whatever should be presented out of the depths of their hearts and spirit. As for those who are both a spiritual Pole (Qutb) and a Helper or Means of Divine Help (Ghawth), they shape whoever enters their atmosphere in the mold of their own horizon, and rebuild them with the material purely from the Qur’an and the Sunna.

At whatever level it occurs, guidance is the most valued among the duties of servanthood, provided it is done purely for God’s sake; and any hero of truth who fulfills such a responsibility is a guide who is an heir to the Prophet, upon him be peace and blessings. However, it should be noted that the companionship of a perfect guide has a particular pleasure of its own and bears signs of a possible “meeting” with God, while it is highly difficult to be able to advance in the company of an imperfect one.

A couplet, whose writer is unknown, reads:

Go to a guide, to a guide, a guide, A guide has a cure for any suffering, O “father!” Anwari[3] contributes to this meaning with the following:

The mystery lying in, “You will never be able to see Me!”[4] — Which signifies the impossibility of seeing God’s “Face”— I was not able to understand it Before my weeping eyes became the Mount of Sinai with love for Him. The mystery of the Cloak in which the People of the Cloak[5] was covered— I was not able to understand it before I became happy in meeting a perfect guide. Now, without going into the differences that arise from the capacity and amount of knowledge each guide has, or the spiritual gifts that each is favored with, I will try to explain the subject in relation to certain essential elements that are found in every guide.

A guide is one who has sufficient knowledge of the relationship between God, humans, and the universe, and the matters concerning this sphere of the Religion. Anyone who does not recognize God is a denier and an ignorant one; and those who are unable to perceive the relationship between Him and existence are blind and unaware of the real nature of their existence, while one who does not know himself is, in fact, lonely and a stranger amidst existence. All of these types of human beings themselves are in need of guidance.

A guide is a hero of spirituality, one who is a careful student of the Qur’an and the book of the universe, and one who has an inquiring mind which has an acquaintance with existential mysteries. A guide is also a sagacious, insightful one with eyes that are observant of things, a tongue busy with reciting the Qur’an, and ears that listen to it. With sound and accurate sense perceptions, profound and comprehensive observations, and powerful reasoning, a guide is distinguished with the manners that are found in a Prophet at a perfect level. Such a person has a universal viewpoint in dealing with matters, is careful of the intersecting points of the revealed rules and commandments and the Divine laws of creation and life. These individuals seek only God’s good pleasure and approval in conveying to people what God wants them to convey and in communicating whatever is inspired into them to needy souls, thereby considering His nearness in whatever they do and say.

Guides are those individuals who try their utmost to proclaim, on any platform, the cause on which they have set their heart in a mood of dedication, and who mediate between what should be conveyed to others and those to whom it should be conveyed. As they never think of any wage, compensation, or reward, they also attribute any material or spiritual return coming, without expectation, to the sincere efforts of those around them. Without ever appropriating whatever spiritual gifts come to them personally, they regard their followers as a means for the arrival of these gifts. This is, without doubt, self-denial; but in a true guide’s sight, it is what an ordinary Muslim should do, not something worthy of acclamation. Such true guides never expect others to appreciate their activities, nor do they aim by them at any worldly or otherworldly outcome, except God’s good pleasure and approval. They are always sincere and upright before God, for they are aware that they follow the way of the Prophets and that this way has certain rules to observe, the most important of which is that any guide should pursue only God’s pleasure in the act of guiding others.

A guide is also a hero of love and tolerance, one who has full knowledge of his audience or followers with all of their characteristics; a guide keeps them under wings of compassion, shares their joys and grief, congratulates them on their accomplishments, and ignores their faults and deficiencies. Like sources of fragrance, such guides diffuse “incense” to satisfy needy hearts; like candles, they consume themselves to illuminate the dark souls around them, for the well-being of the latter. They find true happiness in the happiness of others and avoid no sacrifice in conveying their ideals. They die in order to revive; weep in order to make others laugh; become tired to enable the rest of others; strive constantly in order to be able to awaken others to eternity—without paying any attention to either sincere or insincere appreciation, or to unfair criticisms. They beg God’s forgiveness in the face of compliments, welcome any rightful reactions and criticism, and go on without faltering.

A guide is a wise one equipped with the necessary knowledge of both religious and certain secular sciences to discuss different subjects with an audience and present satisfactory solutions to their problems. In the Naqshbandiya Order, the duty of guidance was not entrusted to those who did not successfully complete all the courses taught in the madrasas or who could not combine spiritual and intellectual enlightenment. Rather, the lodges where the elders or guides of this school taught were each like a fountain of Khadr[6] at which those studying were able to quench their thirst. Any houses of guidance where guides of such caliber did not, or do not, teach are no different from ruins; those who claim guidance in them are deceived and the people who hope for illumination in such centers, which are themselves devoid of light, are indeed unfortunate ones.

Do not offer your hand to whoever claims guidance, For he may lead you to a slope which is impossible to climb, Whereas the path of a perfect guide Is easy enough to follow. [7] However transcendent in general knowledge and knowledge of God they may be, in particular, guides are perfect preachers who can combine, in a balanced way, their ascension toward God while still maintaining the level of their audience when conveying to them what they should convey. They always consider the dispositions, feelings, and thoughts of those whose education they have shouldered, and they avoid causing any misunderstandings or ambiguity in conveying the messages that arise from the particular gifts they have received in the horizon of their relationship with God. A true guide is a strict follower and meticulous student of the Qur’an and is, therefore, obliged to follow the Qur’an in the duty of guidance. Despite being the Word of the All-Great, All-Transcendent One, the Qur’an came to the horizon of the Prophet, upon him be peace and blessings, not in a wholly transcendental manifestation of the Divine Attribute of Speech, but rather, in consideration of the levels of all its audience. Thus, just as the Qur’an addresses humankind according to their many levels of understanding, its first and greatest communicator—and the greatest of all guides—the Prophet Muhammad, upon him be peace and blessings, also considered the different levels of his audience and said: “We, the community of the Prophets, have been ordered to address people according to their capacity of understanding.”[8]

Guides speak with the sublimity of their character, the depth of their spirituality, and the language of their actions. They are exceptionally faithful and devoted to God Almighty. It is an undeniable truth that those whose words do not conform to their actions and who are not trustworthy by their own actions cannot have any positive, lasting influence on people; thus, their message cannot be acceptable. The only way for those things that are said to be acceptable to the human conscience is the unshakable conviction of the truth of those things and the practice of them in one’s life. It is reported that God Almighty said to the Prophet Jesus, upon him be peace: “O Jesus! First give advice to your own soul, and only after you have accepted and followed it, then give it to others—or else be ashamed of Me.”[9] This is in perfect conformity with what the Qur’an quotes from the Prophet Shu’ayb, upon him be peace: “I do not want to act in opposition to you (myself doing) what I ask you to avoid.” (11:88)

O God, make us among Your servants who are sincere and who have been endowed with sincerity in faith and in the practice of the Religion, and honor us with following the Lord of those who have been endowed with sincerity, upon him be the greatest of blessings and perfect peace, and on his Household and noble Companions. [1] Salim Suleyman Uskudari (d. 1893) was a Mevlevi (Mawlawi) Sufi poet and writer.

[2] Ruhi of Baghdad (d. 1605) was one of the important figures in Ottoman-Turkish classical literature, who usually wrote about moral issues.

[3] Awhadu’-Din ‘Ali Anwari is a famous poet who lived in the twelfth century in Iran and Afghanistan. Besides poetry, he was adept in logic, music, theology, mathematics, and astrology. His Diwan, a collection of his poems, consists of a series of long poems, and a number of simpler lyrics.

[4] It refers to the Prophet Moses’ desire to see God on Mount Sinai and God’s reply to him, saying: “You will never be able to see Me (while in the world).” See the Qur’an, 7:143.

[5] God’s Messenger, upon him be peace and blessings, once gathered together ‘Ali, his cousin and son-in-law, Fatima, his beloved daughter, and their sons Hasan and Husayn under his cloak, and said: “O Lord, these are my family.” (Muslim, “Fadail al-Ashab” 32; at-Tirmidhi, “Manaqib,” HN: 3726.) After this event, together with the Messenger himself, these people came to be called “the People of the Cloak.”

[6] (al-) Khadr is he with whom the Qur’an recounts (18: 60–82) the Prophet Moses made a journey to learn something of the spiritual realm of existence and the true nature of God’s acts in the world. It is controversial whether he was a Prophet or a saint with a special mission. It is believed that he enjoys the degree of life where one feels no need for the necessities of normal human life.

[7] Mehmed Niyazi Misri (d. 1694), a Sufi poet, educated in Egypt.

[8] ad-Daylami, al-Musnad, 1:398.

[9]Ibid., 1:144; Abu Nu’aym, Hilyat al-Awliya, 2:382.

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thecursedhellblazer · 4 years

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John’s Tainted Blood

Verses: This headcanon mostly applies to the threads that are set in my DCTV verses (which are also my main threads), We Live in a World of Darkness and I’m not a bloody Legend...Am I?, and to any sub-verse / personalised verse based on the TV adaptations.

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So, since I’ve been mentioning this in half of my threads, if not more, I decided that it was time for me to write down my thoughts on the subject, also because this is it’s one of the things I’ve taken from John’s original canon (the Hellblazer comics) and isn’t present in the TV adaptations, so most people might not know about it. I really like the idea of John having tainted blood and I think that it can tell a lot about his personality and life choices, so I wanted to fit it into my portrayal.

In the comics, John firstly gets the demonic blood through a transfusion from Nergal (the demon who dragged Astra to Hell). The blood saves John’s life after he had been badly wounded during one of his cases, but it comes with a price: it physically links the receiver to the demon who gave donated it. This means that Nergal can find John easily wherever he is and he is still able to control the reactions of Constantine’s body to the demonic blood in his veins and bring harm to him, even when they aren’t together (in one of the issues, Nergal makes his skin bubble and blister). John eventually manages to magically hide himself from the demon, but the spell doesn’t prevent Nergal from still using the blood against him.

Always in the comics, John also gets rid of his tainted at some point...and then does everything in his power to get it back because, in spite of everything, he misses it. I’m not going to include this last part in my headcanon, unless we’re RPing in the Hellblazer verse, where I tend to follow more closely the comics. Also, I’m going to adapt a bit the original properties that the tainted blood is supposed to have, to make it easier to use and more canon compliant with the events of the TV adaptations.

Alright, enough with the intro. On with the actual headcanon.

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After the events of Newcastle and his consequent time at Ravenscar asylum, John went back dealing with the occult. However, not long after his discharge, one of his cases took a very wrong turn and the battle with the demon he was hunting landed him in a hospital, with several broken bones and little hope for a full recovery.

Nergal showed up at his bedside after the first surgery, offering him a cure for his conditions, a cure that would have however come with a price. John was reluctant to accept at first, both because he didn’t trust the demon and because it would have meant owing a favour to the bastard who had taken Astra to Hell and damned his own soul, but he eventually accepted, unable to make peace with the long-term consequences of his injuries.

The transfusion quickly healed every wound, leaving no trace of it, even if the process was pure agony for John, to the point that at times he still has nightmares about the excruciating pain he was put through, among the other things. The most important consequence of it, though, was that, from that moment on, he and Nergal became connected, on a physical and on magical level. The demon could always know where to find him, no matter where he went. Moreover, when in close proximity, he could use the demonic blood to harm John’s body either to bend him to do his will or merely for his amusement.

Eventually, even if not before he had found himself forced to commit some horrible actions on the demon’s behalf, Constantine managed to create a protection seal, yet another tattoo to add to his collection, that could hide him from Nergal and prevent the demon from finding and summoning him at will as he had been doing. Unfortunately, the spell can do little to shield him from the other’s ability to hurt him when they are face to face, which leaves a very powerful weapon in the hands of one of his worst enemies.

John kept doing researches, wanting to find a way out of that second side effect too. His efforts were mostly vain, since nothing he tried worked. However, he ended up finding a way to rid himself of the tainted blood once and for all, which would have solved the issue at its very root. He spent weeks gathering all the necessary ingredients and making sure that his seals were correct, but, when the moment to do the spell came, he couldn’t bring himself to go through with it. Instead, he ended up choosing to keep the tainted blood, despite the curse and the stigma that come with it. And, despite still having a way out of it, he keeps making that choice every single day.

The truth is that John has an ambivalent relationship with the demonic blood that runs in his veins. On one hand, his more rational side knows that it’s dangerous and it’s not helping him finding a way to redeem himself and get his soul out on the clutches of Hell. On the contrary, it just stains his body, marking his flesh as damned too and making him even more undesirable in the eyes of Heaven and God. It’s the umpteenth sign that he belongs where he is fated to end up once his time will run out.

On the other hand, however, having tainted blood comes with advantages. It slows down the aging process (and that’s the reason why he looks around five-ten years younger than he actually is), it allows him to heal faster and better than normal humans and it helps fighting off illnesses (not the most severe ones, like cancer, though, even if in their case it still slows down their progression significantly).

It also serves as a protection against creatures like vampires or any other that feeds on blood and flesh. The demonic blood is toxic, causing severe harm to whoever ingests it, even to the point of killing them. This also means, among the other things, that Constantine absolutely cannot donate his blood to anyone. The consequences, in such case, could be two: the receiver would either die or form with John the same kind of physical and magical bond the magician has with Nergal. That’s a power he doesn’t wish to have with anyone, because he fears that he’d end up abusing it.

Moreover, and especially, the tainted blood is a source of power that makes his magic stronger than it used to be before the transfusion. More results at the cost of a lesser price. When you live in a world where everything is a constant bargain, that’s a perk that comes more than handful and that he has no wish to give up.

In addition to these advantages, there’s also the fact that John can’t help thinking that having tainted blood just fits him. It makes the curse that hangs over his head more concrete, tangible, even visible, in a way. It feeds the part of him that believes that he doesn’t deserve a chance at redemption, that he should carry the stain of his own sins till the day he’ll end up in Hell and pay for them. It’s a reminder of how greedy he can be, to the point that he is ready to risk never being able to redeem himself for the sake of a boost of power.

It’s a vicious circle he is unable to break and that leaves him torn between the heavy awareness of what having the tainted blood means and the irresistible thirst for its power, between the fear of the consequences and the need to constantly punish himself. At times he is ashamed to mention it, others he goes to the point of boasting about it. His feelings and opinion keep changing, depending on the circumstances and on his mood. However, one thing seems certain. Whatever happens, he isn’t going to rid himself of it any time soon, if ever.

#* My reality is eleven tenths perception. * ::headcanons::#* Exorcist Demonologist and Master of the Dark Arts * ::about::#long post #(( me writing a real unprompted headcanon? ))#(( miracles happen ))#(( plus this was long due ))#(( and inspiration is too low for drafts x.x ))

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rest-in-being · 4 years

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Ikhlas (Sincerity)

Imam al-Qushayri (may Allah have mercy upon him) said, defining ikhlas: Ikhlas is intending to devote oneself to the Truth, may He be glorified, through obedience. It is wanting, by means of obedience, to get closer to Allah. One is obedient, not to acquire the respect of others or their praise, but for no other reason than to get closer to Allah.

Abu ‘Ali al-Daqqaq (may Allah have mercy upon him) said, “Ikhlas is to avoid attracting the attention of others; the mukhlis (the sincere one) is not a hypocrite in front of people.”

Al-Fadil ibn ‘Ayad (may Allah have mercy upon him) said, “Leaving work for the sake of getting the attention of people is hypocrisy. Work for the sake of people is shirk. Through ikhlas Allah will cure you from them both.”

Imam al-Junayd (may Allah have mercy upon him) said, “Ikhlas is a secret between Allah and the servant that is unknown to an angel so that he can write it down, or to a Shayan so that he can spoil it, or a desire in the heart so that it can cause him to deviate.”

Shaykh al-Islam Zakariya al-Ansari said, “The truth of the mukhlis is that he neither sees his sincerity nor is content with it. Whenever sincerity differs with this it is not complete. Some may even call it hypocrisy.”

Since the acceptance of actions is conditioned by the existence of sincerity, Allah directed His Prophet to teach the Nation of Islam sincerity in the performance of worship. Allah says:

Say: I am commanded that I should serve Allah, being sincere to Him in obedience. (39:11)

Say: Allah (it is Whom) I serve, being sincere to Him in my Deen. (39:14)

Allah the Mighty and Majestic says also:

Therefore, serve Allah, being sincere to Him in Deen. (39:2)

Allah has ordered His creation to use their voices, their limbs, and their possessions in worship purely for Him, far from falseness in front of people. He said:

And they were not enjoined anything except that they should serve Allah, being sincere to Him in obedience. (98:5)

The Messenger of Allah (Allah bless him and grant him peace) encourages us to be sincere and to leave hypocrisy. The following are a few prophetic traditions indicating this.

It is related from Abu Umamah (may Allah be pleased with him) that a man came to the Messenger of Allah (Allah bless him and grant him peace) and asked, “If you see a man taking part in a ghazwa (jihad) seeking reward and fame, what does he get?” The Prophet said, “He will get nothing.” The man repeated his question again, three times, and the Messenger of Allah responded, saying, “There is nothing for him.” Then he said, “Allah does not accept any action unless it is purely for Allah, seeking His face.”

It is related from Abu Hurayra (may Allah be pleased with him) that he heard the Messenger of Allah (Allah bless him and grant him peace) say, “Surely Allah does not look at your bodies or your appearances; rather, He looks at your hearts.”

It is related from Shadad ibn Aws (may Allah be pleased with him) who heard the Messenger of Allah (Allah bless him and grant him peace) say, “He who prays so that people see him praying, has committed shirk, and he who gives sadaqah so that people see him giving, has committed shirk.”

It is related from Mahmud ibn Labd (may Allah be pleased with him) who said that the Prophet (Allah bless him and grant him peace) left his house and said, “O people, beware of committing shirk of hidden motives (shirk al-sar’ir).” They said, “What is shirk of hidden motives?” He said, “It is when a man stands to pray, beautifying his prayer with the utmost effort so that others will see it and admire it.”

It is also related from Mahmud ibn Labd (may Allah be pleased with him) that the Messenger of Allah (Allah bless him and grant him peace) said, “What I fear most for you is the smallest shirk.” They asked, “What is the smallest shirk, O Messenger of Allah?” He said, “Riya’ (showing off in front of others). Allah says that if people were rewarded according to their actions, He would tell those who do riya’ to go to those whom they used show off for in the dunya. Then let them see if they can find a reward with them.”

Abi Sa‘id ibn Abi Falah (may Allah be pleased with him) who was one of the companions related that he heard the Messenger of Allah (Allah bless him and grant him peace) say, “When Allah gathers the first and the last on the Yawm al-Qiymah, a day in which there is no doubt, a caller will call out, ‘He who has committed shirk in an action that should have been for Allah, let him seek his reward from the one he did the action for. Surely, Allah is not in need of the shirk of those who commit it.’”

What our masters have said about Ikhlas

Makhul said (may Allah have mercy upon him), “If a servant of Allah is sincere for 40 days, the springs of wisdom will appear from his heart and tongue.”

Sahl ibn ‘Abd Allah al-Tasturi (may Allah have mercy upon him) was asked, “What is the hardest thing on one’s self?” He replied, “Ikhlas, because it has no share in it.”

Abu Sulayman al-Darani (may Allah have mercy upon him) said, “If the servant is sincere, a lot of waswas and hypocrisy will be severed from him.”

Ikhlas has three degrees: ikhlas of the common, ikhlas of the elite, and ikhlas of the elite of the elite. The ikhlas of the common is excluding people when one is performing actions for Allah while seeking one’s portion of this world and the next of health, wealth, palaces, and beautiful women. The ikhlas of the elite is not seeking one’s portion in this world, but in the next world. The ikhlas of the elite of the elite is complete abandonment of one’s portion. The elite of the elite worship in order to realize their servanthood and to serve their Lord out of love and longing to see Him.

The loftiest intention of the Sufis is to ascend by sincerity to the highest degrees of servanthood and worship Allah seeking His face without intending a reward. Sayyida Rabiya al-Adawiya said, “I don’t worship You fearing Your Hellfire, nor hoping for Your Garden of Paradise, I worship You only for Your essence (dhatika).” Even if there were no reward or punishment, no Garden of Paradise or Hellfire, they would not delay their worship, or deviate from their obedience because they worship Allah for Allah’s essence.

Imam al-Suyuti (may Allah have mercy upon him) said:

Doing what is ordered and abstaining from what is forbidden is for Allah alone—neither to gain reward nor to avoid punishment. He who does this, worships Allah for His sake. The one who worships Allah seeking reward and fearing punishment is different. He worships seeking a portion for his nafs, though he also worships out of love. His rank is that of the abrar (the pious), while the previous one is of the rank of the muqarrabin (close ones).

Shaykh Ahmad Zarruq (may Allah have mercy upon him) said in the “Rules of Tasawwuf”:

Exalting what Allah exalts is an obligation; having distain for what He exalts may be kufr. The following statement is not to be understood literally: “We do not worship Allah fearing His Hellfire or hoping for His Garden of Paradise.” It is not correct to either disdain them—for Allah Himself has exalted them—or to not need them—for surely the believer is not free of needing the blessings of his Master (Allah, the Exalted). Surely, they don’t intend them (the Hellfire and the Garden of Paradise) in their worship; they worship Allah for no other reason but Him. Through Him they seek the pleasure of the Garden and the safety from the Hellfire, not for anything they’ve done but because everything is in His hands.

The evidence for this is the words of Allah:

We only feed you for Allah’s face. (76:9)

Thus, he makes the purpose of his action, the desire to see the face of the Exalted. The salik (spiritual traveler) may face many harmful things that could corrupt his ikhlas. They are veils that hinder his movement to Allah, the Most High. Thus, it is necessary first to point out these veils and warn the spiritual traveler against them. Next, it is necessary to show the salik the way to get rid of them so that all his actions remain purely for Allah’s face.

The first veil is admiring one’s own action, obscuring the action’s real purpose which is to worship the worshipped. Its cure is to know that ikhlas is by the bounty of Allah and the success that Allah bestows, and that Allah created the salik and all his actions. Allah says:

And Allah created you and what you do. (37:96)

The second veil is seeking reward for one’s actions, either in this life or in the next. The cure is to know that one is truly a servant of Allah, and that entrance to the Garden of Paradise or safety from the Hellfire is not obtained except by Allah’s bounty, His goodness and largess toward him. It is has been narrated that the Prophet (may Allah bless him and grant him peace) said, “None of you will enter the Garden of Paradise by his actions.” Those with him replied, “Not even you, O Messenger of Allah?” To which he responded, “Not even I, unless He covers me with His mercy.”

The third veil is being pleased with one’s actions and deluded by them. Safety from this is through seeing their defects and feeling shame. However small an action may be, the Shaytan and the nafs have a share in it. One should see one’s inability and incompleteness in his giving Allah, may He be glorified, His due because no one is able to fulfill Allah’s right, even by the smallest of particles, even if he struggles night and day. Allah the Exalted says:

And they do not assign to Allah the attributes due to Him. (6:91)

Listen to the call of Allah, the Blessed and Exalted:

Therefore flee to Allah. (51:50)

Respond to it and say: “At your service my Lord; I leave everything other than You, and I come to You.”

Excerpt from 'Realities of Sufism' by Shaykh Abdul Qadir Al Jilani (may Allah sanctify his secret)

#dear seeker #ikhlas #sincerity #jilani #veils #ego #levels #niyyah

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goldenkamuyhunting · 5 years

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A tentative Karafuto travel map

(which might end up being updated as the story progresses)

As it seemed all the groups took the same way back and forth I only traced it once. In truth Asirpa’s group or Sugimoto’s group likely took different ways here and there as we know Asirpa didn’t go in some places and Sugimoto didn’t go in some others and Sugimoto’s group might have done a detour when returning back... but for the sake of simplicity let’s have just have a single line.

The chapter mentioned in the map is where the place first appeared. Our heroes often stopped longer than just a chap but that’s there only to help you when their stop in that place started.

Also locations are sometimes known plce or pointed out by maps but, in some other cases, they’re purely my speculation.

Below a better summary of what happened to them during their trip.

1) Ōdomari/大泊 [Actual Korsakov/Корса́ков] Where both groups land and were they’re supposed to board a boat back to Japan. We know Sugimoto’s group met Enonoka just outside the city. [Chap 140]

2) Enonoka’s village (exact location unknown, it’s just close to Ōdomari). Asirpa’s group went there and she was offered hurep which she enjoyed. Sugimoto’s group also went there. Koito’s wound was cured, Sugimoto learnt Enonoka visited the place and Koito hired Enonoka’s grandfather to carry them through Karafuto. [chap 141]

3) Stenka’s village (exact location unknown). It’s a Russian village where Gansoku Maiharu persuaded its habitants to gamble on stenka. Kiroranke, Ogata and Shiraishi took part to the stenka trying to find him but failed, Sugimoto, Tsukishima, Tanigaki and Koito also took part to the stenka but, due to receiving too many punches Sugimoto lost it and attacked everyone. Gansoku, and a bath in the ice water helped him to go back to normal. Gansoku let them make a copy of his tattoo and they let him go. [chap 142]

4) Fox farm (exact location unknown, near the sea). Kiroranke’s group sells to it the sea lion skin of the sea lion they killed. In the past Wilk’s village was where now the fox farm is. [chap 148]

5) Ainu village. Sugimoto’s group stops here and Enonoka gives Cikapasi her father’s hohciri [chap 151]

6) Toyohara/豊原 [Actual Južno-Sachalinsk/Ю́жно-Сахали́нск] Sugimoto’s group takes part to a circus performance. [Chap 154] On their way back to Hokkaido Sugimoto’s group stops here again [Chap 204]

7) Lighthouse (exact location unknown). Due to a snow storm Sugimoto’s group stops here and learns about Svetlana. Sugimoto volunteers to search for her as well. [Chap 167] When they’ll go back to Hokkaido Tsukishima will hand Svetlana’s letter to her parents. [Chap 201]

8) Ainu village in the Niitoi area. Sugimoto’s group learns about the Meko Oyasi tale [chap 169]

9) Ainu village (exact location unknown). Enonoka gets kidnapped by an Ainu man but thanks to Sugimoto and Cikapasi she’s freed. [Chap 171]

10) Shisuka/敷香 [Actual Poronaysk/Порона́йск]. Thanks to using dog sleg Asirpa’s group reaches the place rather fast. They go hunting in the area near it and Ogata inadvertitely kills an Orok reindeer whcih leads them to take part to an Orok hunt. [Chap 159]

11) Orok’s village (exact location unknown). More than a village is a temporary settlement where Asirpa’s group eat and manages to persuade the Orok to help them to cross the border. [Chap 159]

12) Ainu’s village(exact location unknown). On the way back Sugimoto’s group stops here and eat grandmother’s chewed dangos. [Chap 201]

13) National border. As soon as Asirpa’s group crosses it they’re attacked by the border guards who wound an Orok. Ogata shoots Ilya and later have a sniper duel with Vasily whom he defeats, giving him a bad wound on his face, even if he comes up with fever. Kiroranke makes short work of the other guards. Asirpa discovers her father and Kiroranke were wanted men in Russia. [chap 160] When Sugimoto’s group will cross it again to go back home, nothing will happen. [chap 201]

14) Orok’s village (exact location unknown). More than a village is a temporary settlement where Asirpa’s group stops to take care of the feverish Ogata and the wounded Orok. Here Asirpa learns her father and Kiro were involved in the murder of the Tzar. Kiroranke tells Shiraishi he could remain there but Shiraishi refuses. [chap 164]

15) Orok’s village (exact location unknown). More than a village is a temporary settlement where Asirpa’s group left the reindeer received in the previous village and where Sugimoto’s group also stops by [chap 176]

16) Nivkh village (exact location unknown, it’s just close to Akō). Asirpa’s group stop there to wait for the ice field. [chap 170] Later Sugimoto’s group stops here to take care of the wounded Tsukishima, Tanigaki, Koito and Ogata. [chap 182]

17) Akō/亜港 [Actual Aleksandrovsk-Sachalinskij/Алекса́ндровск-Сахали́нский].ISofia’s prison is here. Asirpa’s group helps her and the other convicts to escape [chap 180] Later Sugimoto’s group will bring Ogata to a doctor in Akō. Although the doctor said Ogata would die despite having been taken care of, Ogata actually managed to escape [chap 197]

18) Ice field. Asirpa’s group and Sofia escapes on it. Sofia remembers what could be the key to her father’s code, Shiraishi gets parted by the group and is saved by Sugimoto before he’ll fall in the sea, Ogata takes Asirpa away from Kiro and Sofia in hope she’ll tell him the code. When she doesn’t they argue and he’ll tell her he killed her father, telling her to kill him. When she doesn’t he points his rifle at her and Sugimoto’s scream causes Asirpa to be startled and let go of her arrow, hitting Ogata’s eye. Sugimoto removes it and sucks the poison out, not wanting Asirpa to become a murderer. Meanwhile Tsukishima found Svetlana, Tanigaki fights with Kiro, ending up wounded but managing to stab him. Tsukishima and Koito pursue Kiro and fall in a trap, due to which Tsukishima gets wounded. Koito fights Kiro but he would lose if Tsukishima and Tanigaki hadn’t shoot the man. Asirpa joins and manages to tell Kiro she has remembered the code before he’ll died. [chap 182]

#Golden Kamuy #Golden Kamuy Map

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roman-catholic-mass-readings · 5 years

Photo

9th September >> Mass Readings (Europe, Africa, New Zealand, Australia & Canada)

Saint Peter Claver

on Monday, Twenty-Third of Week in Ordinary Time

Saint Ciaran, Abbot (Ireland).

Monday, Twenty-Third of Week in Ordinary Time

(Liturgical Colour: White)

(Readings for the feria (Monday))

(There is a choice today between the readings for the ferial day (Monday) and those for the memorial. The ferial readings are recommended unless pastoral reasons suggest otherwise)

First Reading

Colossians 1:24-2:3

God's message was a mystery hidden for generations

It makes me happy to suffer for you, as I am suffering now, and in my own body to do what I can to make up all that has still to be undergone by Christ for the sake of his body, the Church. I became the servant of the Church when God made me responsible for delivering God’s message to you, the message which was a mystery hidden for generations and centuries and has now been revealed to his saints. It was God’s purpose to reveal it to them and to show all the rich glory of this mystery to pagans. The mystery is Christ among you, your hope of glory: this is the Christ we proclaim, this is the wisdom in which we thoroughly train everyone and instruct everyone, to make them all perfect in Christ. It is for this I struggle wearily on, helped only by his power driving me irresistibly.

Yes, I want you to know that I do have to struggle hard for you, and for those in Laodicea, and for so many others who have never seen me face to face. It is all to bind you together in love and to stir your minds, so that your understanding may come to full development, until you really know God’s secret in which all the jewels of wisdom and knowledge are hidden.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm

Psalm 61(62):6-7,9

R/ In God is my safety and glory.

In God alone be at rest, my soul;

for my hope comes from him.

He alone is my rock, my stronghold,

my fortress: I stand firm.

R/ In God is my safety and glory.

Take refuge in God, all you people.

Trust him at all times.

Pour out your hearts before him

for God is our refuge.

R/ In God is my safety and glory.

Gospel Acclamation

Psalm 118:105

Alleluia, alleluia!

Your word is a lamp for my steps

and a light for my path.

Alleluia!

Or:

John 10:27

Alleluia, alleluia!

The sheep that belong to me listen to my voice,

says the Lord,

I know them and they follow me.

Alleluia!

Gospel

Luke 6:6-11

Is it against the law on the sabbath to save life?

On the sabbath Jesus went into the synagogue and began to teach, and a man was there whose right hand was withered. The scribes and the Pharisees were watching him to see if he would cure a man on the sabbath, hoping to find something to use against him. But he knew their thoughts; and he said to the man with the withered hand, ‘Stand up! Come out into the middle.’ And he came out and stood there. Then Jesus said to them, ‘I put it to you: is it against the law on the sabbath to do good, or to do evil; to save life, or to destroy it?’ Then he looked round at them all and said to the man, ‘Stretch out your hand.’ He did so, and his hand was better. But they were furious, and began to discuss the best way of dealing with Jesus.

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

—————————

Saint Peter Claver

(Liturgical Colour: White)

(Readings for the memorial)

(There is a choice today between the readings for the ferial day (Monday) and those for the memorial. The ferial readings are recommended unless pastoral reasons suggest otherwise)

First Reading

Genesis 12:1-4

All the tribes of the earth shall bless themselves by you

The Lord said to Abram, ‘Leave your country, your family and your father’s house, for the land I will show you. I will make you a great nation; I will bless you and make your name so famous that it will be used as a blessing.

‘I will bless those who bless you:

I will curse those who slight you.

All the tribes of the earth

shall bless themselves by you.’

So Abram went as the Lord told him.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm

Psalm 1:1-4,6

R/ His delight is the law of the Lord.

R/ Happy the man who has placed his trust in the Lord.

R/ The just will flourish like the palm-tree in the courts of our God.

Happy indeed is the man

who follows not the counsel of the wicked;

nor lingers in the way of sinners

nor sits in the company of scorners,

but whose delight is the law of the Lord

and who ponders his law day and night.

R/ His delight is the law of the Lord.

R/ Happy the man who has placed his trust in the Lord.

R/ The just will flourish like the palm-tree in the courts of our God.

He is like a tree that is planted

beside the flowing waters,

that yields its fruit in due season

and whose leaves shall never fade;

and all that he does shall prosper.

R/ His delight is the law of the Lord.

R/ Happy the man who has placed his trust in the Lord.

R/ The just will flourish like the palm-tree in the courts of our God.

Not so are the wicked, not so!

For they like winnowed chaff

shall be driven away by the wind:

for the Lord guards the way of the just

but the way of the wicked leads to doom.

R/ His delight is the law of the Lord.

R/ Happy the man who has placed his trust in the Lord.

R/ The just will flourish like the palm-tree in the courts of our God.

Gospel Acclamation

Matthew 5:3

Alleluia, alleluia!

How happy are the poor in spirit:

theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Alleluia!

Gospel

Matthew 5:1-12a

How happy are the poor in spirit

Seeing the crowds, Jesus went up the hill. There he sat down and was joined by his disciples. Then he began to speak. This is what he taught them:

‘How happy are the poor in spirit;

theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Happy the gentle:

they shall have the earth for their heritage.

Happy those who mourn:

they shall be comforted.

Happy those who hunger and thirst for what is right:

they shall be satisfied.

Happy the merciful:

they shall have mercy shown them.

Happy the pure in heart:

they shall see God.

Happy the peacemakers:

they shall be called sons of God.

Happy those who are persecuted in the cause of right:

theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

‘Happy are you when people abuse you and persecute you and speak all kinds of calumny against you on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward will be great in heaven.’

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

-------------------------------

Saint Ciaran, Abbot (Ireland)

(Liturgical Colour: White)

(Readings for the memorial)

(There is a choice today between the readings for the ferial day (Monday) and those for the memorial. The ferial readings are recommended unless pastoral reasons suggest otherwise)

First Reading

Genesis 12:1-4

All the tribes of the earth shall bless themselves by you

‘I will bless those who bless you:

I will curse those who slight you.

All the tribes of the earth

shall bless themselves by you.’

So Abram went as the Lord told him.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm

Psalm 1:1-4,6

R/ His delight is the law of the Lord.

R/ Happy the man who has placed his trust in the Lord.

R/ The just will flourish like the palm-tree in the courts of our God.

Happy indeed is the man

who follows not the counsel of the wicked;

nor lingers in the way of sinners

nor sits in the company of scorners,

but whose delight is the law of the Lord

and who ponders his law day and night.

R/ His delight is the law of the Lord.

R/ Happy the man who has placed his trust in the Lord.

R/ The just will flourish like the palm-tree in the courts of our God.

He is like a tree that is planted

beside the flowing waters,

that yields its fruit in due season

and whose leaves shall never fade;

and all that he does shall prosper.

R/ His delight is the law of the Lord.

R/ Happy the man who has placed his trust in the Lord.

R/ The just will flourish like the palm-tree in the courts of our God.

Not so are the wicked, not so!

For they like winnowed chaff

shall be driven away by the wind:

for the Lord guards the way of the just

but the way of the wicked leads to doom.

R/ His delight is the law of the Lord.

R/ Happy the man who has placed his trust in the Lord.

R/ The just will flourish like the palm-tree in the courts of our God.

Gospel Acclamation

Matthew 5:3

Alleluia, alleluia!

How happy are the poor in spirit:

theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Alleluia!

Gospel

Matthew 5:1-12a

How happy are the poor in spirit

Seeing the crowds, Jesus went up the hill. There he sat down and was joined by his disciples. Then he began to speak. This is what he taught them:

‘How happy are the poor in spirit;

theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Happy the gentle:

they shall have the earth for their heritage.

Happy those who mourn:

they shall be comforted.

Happy those who hunger and thirst for what is right:

they shall be satisfied.

Happy the merciful:

they shall have mercy shown them.

Happy the pure in heart:

they shall see God.

Happy the peacemakers:

they shall be called sons of God.

Happy those who are persecuted in the cause of right:

theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

‘Happy are you when people abuse you and persecute you and speak all kinds of calumny against you on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward will be great in heaven.’

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

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born-inastorm · 5 years

Text

CHARACTER INTRODUCTION

THE BASICS

NAME/NICKNAMES: Ororo Munroe

ALIAS: “Storm”

AGE: 34

PREFERRED PRONOUNS: She/Her

AFFILIATION: X-Men

FACECLAIM: Anna Diop

THE DETAILS

FAMILY: N’Daré (mother - deceased), David Munroe (father - deceased). Her parents died when she was 5 years old; a plane crash destroyed their home in Cairo.

THREE FAVORITE THINGS: Thunderstorms, teaching and teamwork.

EDUCATION: College-level courses at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters / Qualified teacher.

SKILLS:

Master Thief: Ororo was, in her youth, one of the most skillful thieves in the entire city of Cairo. Expert Combatant: Ororo is a gifted and formidable hand-to-hand combatant with years of close quarter combat experience. Weapon Proficiency: She is an excellent marksman with handguns and is experienced in the use of various firearms. Ororo is also highly skilled with wielding knives, experienced in the use of the bo staff, and trained in sword fighting. Expert Tactician: Storm has strong natural leadership skills and has lead teams of X-Men for years. She is a highly accomplished and skilled strategist, tactician, and field commander. Expert Gardener: Ororo is also an excellent gardener owing to her supernatural abilities and has her own botanical gardens at the Xavier Mansion. (um hi i love this) Multilingual: Storm is fluent in English, Arabic, Swahili, Russian, Japanese, Wakandan, Yoruba and more. Aviation: Storm has skill in piloting advanced aircrafts. Indomitable Will: Ororo has an exceptionally strong will, thanks to years of practice to control the weather.

WEAPONS: she is the weapon...

ABILITIES:

Atmokinesis: Storm is a powerful mutant who is able to control the weather and all of its forms with ease. She can control meteorological tempests, such as lightning, thunderstorms, hurricanes, blizzards, tornadoes, mist, and typhoons. She can even siphon electricity, causing her to shoot it out as lightning of any intensity. Atmospheric Resistance: Storm is immune to extreme weather conditions like extreme heat or cold, storms and is capable creating a small atmosphere around her, thus this allows her possibly survive in areas where there is a lack of oxygen such as areas of high altitudes. Electricity Manipulation: The ability to manipulate, control, and create pure electrical energy; such as lightning. She’s capable of discharging lightning bolts from her hands, while also summoning a lightning bolt from the sky. Earth Link: Storm is psychically linked to her immediate surroundings, as she can detect the position of fighter jets whilst creating tornadoes to keep them at bay. She was capable of avoiding unintentional causalities when the pilots ejected from their jets. She can also detect if a nearby animal or plant has died or if the weather is about change. Enhanced Senses: When Storm's eyes go white, she can see her surroundings in the form of energy. She uses this ability to see through harsh weather conditions like fog, darkness or clouds. Flight/Levitation: With the power of wind, Storm is even able to fly by making the wind lift her up in the air. She could fly at great speed, allowing her to smash through a wood fence while spinning towards attacking mutants.

THE QUESTIONNAIRE

IN THE LAST YEAR SINCE THANOS WAS DEFEATED, WHAT HAS YOUR CHARACTER BEEN DOING?

Mourning the loss of mutant life especially, finding her faith and hope in a better world again and rebuilding. Storm's first priority for a long time has been the safety of her students and all mutants out there who feel like they don't have a place in the world. Making sure they knew that Xavier's school was still a safe place for them and more so, actively seeking out and offering help and a home directly to them. Staying busy, being proactive and strengthening the community within her own found family has taken up her time. More than hoping a threat like Thanos never came around again, she wanted to make sure it didn't. If it did, at least, she wanted to be ready. Be stronger. So she trained more, pushed herself further and peddled the idea that together, anything could be achieved. Failure is just another lesson to learn and she was sure that they wouldn't falter so devastatingly again, even in the face of that new threat: Galactus.

As always, Storm was ready and willing to help along with the other X-Men who she had missed dearly during the tragedy Thanos had previously brought. She spoke up, gave inspirational speeches, argued and pleaded for everyone to come together. They couldn't bend in the face of hatred. There was a bigger picture now just like there should have been with Thanos. They had to save the world; she had to save the world. And yet.

WHAT HAS YOUR CHARACTER LEARNED IN THE AFTERMATH OF THANOS, HIS SNAP AND EVENTUAL DEFEAT?

That she should have done more. Should have held tighter to her loved ones, should have inspired her students more and above all, she should have protected them. Since coming to Xavier's school, since becoming a member of the X-Men, Storm had held tightly to the rage she was capable of feeling towards humans. She never let it cloud her judgment or control her decisions. Anger was a fuel and at times it knocked hope and faith off the shelf. "Normal people" scared her but she learned to conquer that fear, to not let fear influence her like that at all. She never wanted to lash out at non-mutants although she sympathized with her students who did, who came from experiences that had taught them that same fear she'd known but it wasn't an easy thing to get over. To grow from. And then the slaughter on Genosha happened. Rage suddenly felt like the only option and if it weren't for what little remained of her loved ones (Jean) then she might have done something that she would have regretted.

Living in a broken world was hard but as always, Xavier's remained open and Storm stayed put mostly. She of course would have given anything to turn back the clock and bring everyone back but that just wasn't plausible. Right? Until it happened. A part of her really thought that it might have given the world a new perspective on what was important- truly important. That the protestors and politicians in this world of superheroes and mutants and aliens would progress. With everything, it wasn't all good and it wasn't all bad but still, there were the 'protestors' outside the gates of Xavier's while Charles tried to calm the masses. Galactus was breathing down their necks and they still couldn't get it together. So yeah, Storm learned and re-learned that having hope is hard.

THE SAVAGE LANDS IS A NEW AND DANGEROUS PLACE, HOW IS YOUR CHARACTER COPING WITH THE NEW ENVIRONMENT?

Well, at least half the entire population of living things didn't dust again, right? Ororo is adaptable, she's a leader and a teacher, and not above frying whatever lurks in the long grass if it's gonna threaten to eat someone. She's probably had a cautious fly around, noting the fact that literal buildings from home have been transported wherever the hell they are; including a makeshift Genosha's Castle that has been offering sheltered. Storm is fine, she's more concerned about finding her fellow X-Men and students. Keeping them safe is her top priority.

ADDITIONAL INFORMATION:

Storm's past before the X-Men isn't really public knowledge. She's a mystery (which really means I'm taking some inspiration from the comics and mostly following the movies. Her parents death- and the rubble she was stuck under before being rescued- then growing up an orphaned thief in Cairo before Xavier found her in is the bulk of her backstory. Oh, hailed as a goddess? Maybe she’ll tell you about it sometime, maybe not. So if there are any plots you're into that involve her from the comics, let me know!). For her, who she is now began when she found her calling at the school. She could accept herself as a mutant and help others to do the same. Ororo found her purpose, love and family. Plus, she became a badass superhero.

Definitely the Mom™ friend and coolest teacher you ever had. Has a soft, understanding way about her that makes you feel as if you can confide without being met by any judgement (you can). Her capacity for love is boundless. The first to tell any mutant that they are not something to be cured or changed; they're perfect the way they are. Very passionate about that for both mutants and anyone else really. Self-love and care should be a priority for everyone even if she doesn't quite follow that thinking for herself.

Didn't dust during the Snap. Stayed with Jean and Charles at the school keeping things together and leaning on her best friend more than ever. Basically the number one Jean Grey stan in town and she's ready to fight about it.

A loyal friend who doesn't take anyone's crap. An aspiring beam of goddamn light! But finds it difficult sometimes to keep on shining for the sake of everyone else when the weight of the world feels so inclined to come down on her shoulders. Absolutely doing her best. A soft badass. A kickass cinnamon roll.

#white hair don’t care

Let me know if you want to have any pre-established connections with her!!

#u: intro #bio #;o;

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altered-aegis-archived · 5 years

Text

Modern Verse

BASIC INFORMATION CODE GIVEN Peryton REAL NAME Kohaku Otomugi AGE 18 HEIGHT 170 Cm BORN 24 August SOCIAL CLASS Lower Class YEAR 21st Century NATIONALITY Japan FACECLAIM Ishikirimaru

SUMMARY An enhanced human with superstrength, heightened sense and recovering immunity made purely for war purposes. After years grounded under Italy's military laboratory, Kohaku fled to Japan in hope for recovering his original identity while escaping from Italian Government. While doing that, he encountered series of unfortunate events that forces him to show his enhanced ability. He was hired by confidential clients to assassinate enemy. His profit was later used by him to buy medicine to lessen the pain that was caused by the enhancement drugs inside him.

BACKSTORY Kohaku was an orphanage from Japan and was adopted by an unknown parents in a confidential meeting. By the age of 5, Kohaku moved to Italy with his guardians and later learnt that his identity was changed. He was later being introduced to a group of young children around his age who also has been adopted from orphanage from different country. He was given the code Peryton the moment he was registered into the underground laboratory, along with educations and trained with set of skills essential for survival. He and other children immediately becoming Italian government's guinea pigs as they had to suffer through countless of drugs insertion and various of enhancement. In it's worst event, they had to outwit each other to survive another day by annihilating each other. After each years, Peryton passed through all of the experiment and witness his friends dying before him by force.

Eventhough Peryton is successful in all inhuman test, his memories are degrading from time to time, could renderred him into pure rage and uncontrollable as it put him in absolute pain. One of the newly hired scientist in the laboratory, Percivel, somehow managed to cure the pain with injecting him with painkiller fluid, specifically modified for an enhanced human like Peryton. Percivel was curious in seeking the reason behind Peryton's brutal experimentation so he decided to investigate the Government's archive in hoping to find an answer. The scientist later found out that the test subject was a neccessary preparation in case there are war outbreaks or that they needed human to survive apocalypse. It was stated also this experiment was an agreement between Government and Italian Underworld's organization as they acknowledged Japanese's super human's development. For the fear the world might become more dangerous place with more super human emerges to surface, Italian government and Mafia's godfather made an agreement to secure the project's development.

Percivel found the motives are too unbearable and inhumane, so he hassled back to find Peryton in the laboratory. Peryton pleaded to him that he wanted to be free from the torture. Percivel considered his plea and secretly devised escape point for Peryton. Before Peryton escaped, the scientist told him to make a promise to not becoming reckless with his power and act like a normal human. Peryton promised him and no words ever heard from him again after the escape. Peryton fled to Japan but having difficulties on staying stable and have no incomes in order to afford his medicines and treatment in the hospital. He later decided to be an assassin is the only way to be able to pay for the costly treatment.

Modern Verse (Bungou Stray Dogs) – as plotted with pursuingideals (Kunikida Doppo) -my lovely rp partner-

SUMMARY OF THE BEGINNING As Italian government were looking for Peryton, they later confronted Percivel for the misconduct he has done and discharged him. Percivel was satisfied with the discharge and quickly fled to Japan to isolate himself from the eyes of authority for the time being. While doing so, he received rumours of cold-hearted assassin roaming the city. The former scientist later learn out that the assassin could be Peryton that he freed before. At that moment, Percivel was worried because Italian Government was looking all over for him. Aside from that, he realized Peryton broke his promise to act as normal as he could. If Percivel himself able to locate the lost enhanced human, then it could mean the government is ahead in finding him. Before it is too late, he seek help to Detective Agency in the city in hope to meet the young male again and would confront his doings. Percivel along side with Kunikida and other agencies confronted Kohaku during his mission, however it was shortly abrupted by the presence of Italian’s representative; Andrei who was supposed to be Kohaku’s legitimate adopted father. After the resolve, Andrei had to agree to the authority to release Peryton Kohaku into the local authority. Somehow, Kunikida took care of him afterwards.

Modern Verse (Vigilante) Kohaku spent his youth in orphanage together with his friend Noire who were later being taken out by unknown person. By the age of 17, Kohaku was recruited to military and was involved human experiment for the sake of mafia's organization that reign over the state. He was later then sent to the mafia for recruitment. One of his task demanded him to wipe out mafia's traitor. However he became a traitor himself, turning his back on mafia and decided to destroy them.

KOHAKU PERYTON / OTOMUGI HEADCANONS

PERSONALITY Stoic, fearless, stubborn. This young man has a brilliant endurance especially physical and mental (when he is healthy). His soft side also appears when the person he face does not impose any dangerous threat.

||ALWAYS WAR READY|| Kohaku was not educated with moral values during years of experiment, he was not aware of it and lack of idea of how becoming a normal human at the least. Through the trials of his experiment, Kohaku was treated in a way feelings are not concerned, he grew up only to be nurtured with survival instinct and preparing himself for world catastrophe.

ART OF WAR

||HEIGHTENED SENSES|| Eyesight; Kohaku's eyesight was modified to magnify twice than normal healthy eyes can do, three times in its maximum capability. Hearings; Kohaku can also detect waves frequency that inaudible to normal human's ear. Smell, Kohaku could detect substances such as harmful liquid, drugs and even hidden bombs within specific distance.

||FUTURE RESISTANCE|| Kohaku's body will be getting adapted to types of weapon that could harm his body. Over time, after his body recovered while learning to weapon's chemical components, the same type of weapon will slowly loses it's effect the body. For example, Kohaku could survive bombing and remained unscathed once he gain immunity through rapid attacks. More frequent attack will make his recovery rate slower but more effective in later time.

||KNOWLEDGE|| Through experimental and training years, Kohaku managed to learn various type of several languages, intercepting satellite communication, reading secret codes, decryption skill, high-end weapons and technologies, including maneuvering warships and other vehicles.

||MARTIAL ARTS|| Kohaku is well-versed in martial art skills due to constant training given by the government for the sake of surviving experimental phases that was developed by the facility.

||SUPER STRENGTH|| That would include ripping steel doors, destroying walls and other things that normal human hardly able to lift or stand against. Running through walls and making holes on it is normal for him.

WEAKNESSES

||MEMORY LOSS|| Although he have such inhuman strength, Kohaku have a frequent memory loss due to the side effect of enhancement. It would abrupt his progress in completing his task completely. The way to avoid this is only through constant treatment from hospital or painkillers.

||BACK NECK|| His weak and blind spot. Attack him on this particular area will stunned him.

||LACK OF OXYGEN|| Without enough air for few minutes, like a normal human, he will become very weak.

||POISON|| A right poison such as oxidizers seeped through his body can give a devastating chemical reaction. Oxidizers are corrosive substance that will deteriorate his regenetive tissue.

||IMPACT|| Kohaku is not immuned to physical impact even if chance of surviving it is high. People can still stunned him with blunt object or even fists if it is hard enough.

||SOLO PLAYER|| Kohaku has problem in following orders due to the trauma he received during training and experiment. At early introduction to team, Kohaku might not be the best team player as he was more impulsive. This could be changed through proper guidance and orders.

#BACKSTORY2 #HEADCANON2 #MODERN VERSE #LONG POST

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fauzhee10069 · 5 years

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JoJolion’s main villain? Will it be female?

Okay, so whenever I find a discussion about JJL main villain, who will it be? And with the thirst from fans who wanted the first female main villain in JJBA, a popular theory emerged that Higashikata Caato would become the main villain. Yeah, so far… she is really popular, lots of hints point towards her, I can see some reasons of why:

Her motivation, she is currently in conflict with her ex-husband, Norisuke IV. Their conflicting views of how they have to sacrifice to save their son from the curse. Her sacrifice made her imprisoned for 15 years and separated from her children (how sad when her three children did not know her as their mother). Now, she returns and demands a payback.

Her persumably dominance over her son, Jobin. Jobin who previously was hyped as potential main villain is now overshadowed by his mother. Especially, it was pretty much confirmed that Jobin isn't the mastermind by Dolomite and Rai. “Jobin sweetie, remember that I went to jail to protect you, to save you, all for your sake. Imagine she says, ”I can see that Jobin must feel very indebted and grateful to her, that’s why he looks very respectful to her.

Her first impression of Gappy!Josuke was that she doesn't like him, regards him as freeloader (a potential enemy?)

Her Stand being a space-manipulating related type, often being regarded in the same boat with D4C (though I see that it’s more similar to Enigma currently).

Despite being 52 and a granny, she looks attractive for no reason, Araki’s habit of creating his main villains. Look how he changed fat!Valentine into the hot 48 years old president. Caato could be the antithesis of Lisa Lisa. Both are hot milfs in 50s and supportive to their sons, only the side is reversed.

Advanced points:

Norisuke IV he is one of the people closest to Josuke but the one who is likely most despised by Caato. I can see the potential conflict between Josuke and Caato or even her conflict with her other children.

The race to obtain Locacaca fruit, Caato’s side (Tsurugi, Jobin and Mitsuba) are fighting to cure Tsurugi. Josuke is fighting to restore himself to normal and save Holy.

Now, enter my personal opinion...

Actually, I like Caato as villain, or even major villain. But to be honest, though I also crave for the first female main villain, I don’t really like the concept of Caato as the one. Reasons:

Her conflict/motivation is too domestic, a household disputes; an ex-wife who wants to take revenge on and punish her ex-husband for the sacrifice and misery that she have to endured and demands payback (she openly asked for half of the household fortune). Basically, she wants to take back what's rightfully hers, probably dethrone the patriarch to dominate the family business and fortune. This sounds like a plot taken out from Korean/telenovela family drama (with revenge as its main theme) only that it involves Stand battle, could be good for side plot but not for main plot. I wish the Rokakaka fruit, Rock humans, scientist and the curse will be a greater focus than this family drama bullsh*t.

Her background itself is too ordinary, a former housewife with no visible past career or other interesting things, unless she had other past background that is still hidden, maybe a past career that hasn't been revealed yet, ala Izumi Curtis. Though she could be a counterpart for part 4 main villain, being ordinary salary man.

Her flashback and motivation in the past, in my opinion, is too sympathetic (something that Araki claimed to avoid whenever he writes a main villain). To save her son from her curse, rather than sacrificing her life, she preferred to sacrifice the life of other (stranger). To be honest, I prefer her method than Norisuke IV, therefore Jobin (and her other children) do not need to lose a mother figure (which ironically happened). This is a husband’s common mistake; assuming that his wife is not different with his mother, hoping that his wife will do the same thing with what his mother has done. Basically, a mom who did sacrificing her own contented life for the sake of her child, imprisoned for 15 years away from her children, she had just been released and is still reorganizing her life. Unlike other JoJo main villains, in which their trouble pasts had become a past completely (that happened years ago) as their current life in the present storyline is much better but Caato still had to face her ex-husband who seemed to abandon her and had to try re-bond her relationship with her children again (idk why but her story kinda reminds me of Cookie Lyon from Empire). She just barely regains her life back.

Her personality that is too obvious for a villain. Being very two-faced and deceptive, showing her true calculating personality to those she deeply trusts yet truly capable of however seems to intimidate and inspire fear, but in public, she comes off as charismatic and loving person. It’s like “Oh looks… she is evil… she must be the main villain!!” I mean, just as she first appeared (which is not long ago), she already acted menacing, intimidating and declaring her objectives. Whereas JJBA main villains in general were acting pretty casual.

Most likely, Araki did the Principal and The Pauper to Norisuke IV’s character. From the fun & loving dad and a supportive father figure for Josuke to be an asshole husband who is disregarding his wife for the sacrifice she had made and even refused to pay her alimony. Now I am confused whether I should cheer for Norisuke IV (Josuke’s side) or Caato. This will potentially rival my disappointment over Xiao Fan ruining Zhao Yun and Xiao Meng’s dynamic. >:(

She doesn’t have any moment that can be mocked over and meme’d. Also, all of her appearance so far is like a boss. If she constantly stays like this till the end, I’m afraid that she would potentially ruin the funny dynamic between The Main Villains gang in fandom!!!

I don’t need another mom archetype in JJBA main villains gang, we already have Kira as the mom.

Her determination to live free from the men (read: husband)’s control and decision yet seems to be in control of her son (and possibly grandson) makes her sound like feminazi. I hope I’m wrong though, hopefully Araki doesn’t write her to be main villain only to fulfill the quota (due to the lack of female main villains) or as political correctness. I just want my first female main villain to be just a character of her own without being the feminist advertisement (though that’s what you likely will get from a character with just housewife as background). I have faith in Araki though because in my opinion he was quite successful as he wrote Jolyne, she is very likeable for the only female JoJo as she is simply being who she is without promoting feminism.

A mother controlling her children (in this case, Jobin). Though this is personal, I’m never into this kind of villain. I think it is very cheap, there is a teach that children must respect their mother who had nurtured and raised them and one mom decided to take this as an advantage to control her children. Most likely, Caato could be the main cause of Jobin's authoritarian attitude to his son, Tsurugi.

Mom: “Okay son, remember that I had carried you in my womb and suffer for 9 months for it, I had painful labor to bear you, I had taken care of you when you were a helpless baby, teaching you everything and saved your life from the curse, even saved you from your crime, by letting myself go to jail and lost my 15 years of life… all because I love you. Now, do me a favor and never question it!” Son: “No, sorry mom.” Mom: “(How dare you!) Why not?” Son: “Because I never ask to be born (especially by you).” (I don’t think Jobin would ever say that, probably Joshu).

So, if Caato turns out to be the main villain, she could be my least favorite main villain despite I am being a female myself. Though it's still too early to judge, there is still a hope that she will deliver something more interesting than those 5 points above. One of them is the theory and possibility that she is the mysterious head doctor or the Rock human’s leader.

My other personal wish is that Holy Kira is the actual main villain. This is purely crack theory and something that is even less likely than Caato, but I think Holy Kira will deliver something more interesting than Caato:

Her more interesting background as an Ophthalmologist, emergency doctor, and guest professor. A woman, a mother and A PROFESSOR!!!

Her more direct connection with Rokakaka fruit, it is revealed that Holy created the hidden Rokakaka lab at T.G University Hospital, she was researching the fruit! Therefore, A SCIENTIST!!! There is a possibility that she was part of the Rokakaka Research Organization (though probably she just did the research independently).

She is a direct descendant of Johnny Joestar, therefore… a Joestar! Imagine being a Joestar and a main villain at the same time!! Okay, despite being a Joestar, Holy is not a JoJo. But this will be hilariously the greatest irony ever, a main villain is descended from a JoJo.

Her, tricking Josuke, the main protagonist (who is also part of her son) to cure her is something far more brilliant than a mom straightly controlling her son through intimidation. Perhaps her illness is part of her master plan (“計画通り/keikaku doori!!”ala Light Yagami or Aizen), it’ll be a greater troll than Joseph trolling Jotaro as reincarnated DIO XD.

Holy Kira might be the antithesis of Holy Kujo, the purest and most loving milf ever in JJBA to be the worst and ambitious mom.

Holy Kira might fit the theme of the villain being the opposite of the protagonist, what is the opposite between Josuke and Holy? One being the guy stitched together from two other guys and one being a woman who has a lot of missing parts (in this case, her brain).

She already had her possibly funny/crazy moment when she was trying to use a nurse like a pair of boots and a magazine XD.

Personally, I think that Holy has better design than Caato. While Caato looks like the older version of Jolyne, her messy appearance looks like a middle-aged woman who couldn’t let go her teenage years (that’s why she can’t beat Lisa Lisa as a hot milf in 50s imo, her appearance is tidier and more elegant). Look at Holy Kira, she is trendy and the dark cape looks fabulous for a villain’s design.

Holy may possess a more interesting Stand, I’m sure she is a Stand user if she can see Paisley Park and knows about Killer Queen. Please, Araki… show me what her Stand is capable of!!

If Caato stays the same until the end of the story, she will be the most deviated villain in JJBA history besides being female, Araki might breaks the pattern with her. But isn’t using Holy Kira as main villain would be a greater pattern breakers??

Besides Holy Kira, I found another crack yet brilliant theory of Yasuho being actual main villain without her realizing it, played it like an alter ego ala Doppio. Disclaimer, it is not written by me. While this is very interesting (and I support this theory tbh), this could be another case of The Principal and The Pauper in Yasuho’s character.

Hopefully, Caato is just a red herring for the actual main villain (as she is too… obviousss), but the possibility of Holy as the main villain is even smaller. That’s why I keep my expectation of evil!Holy so low, she could be just a straight SBR counterpart for Holy Kujo (the purest mom in critical condition that needs to be cured asap) with slightly bigger role, nothing more. Perhaps, the main villain could even be neither Caato nor Holy.

Now, let’s countdown the villains we had so far and how Caato or Holy will fill it up:

A vampire (and an ex-lawyer student)

A Pillar Man, boss of his own kind

A vampire… again (at least he is hundred years old now)

A salary man and serial killer

A mafia boss

A priest (and the vampire’s lover best friend)

A president of alt!US

A former housewife and former inmate / A mad scientist and a Joestar / A Rock human and head doctor (another mad scientist), assuming the third possibility of main villain is a guy / The main villain is a concept (not a person), the Locacaca fruit itself (I love this one tbh)

Pick your choice!!

Summary: I welcome Caato as villain, even as major villain. She is the first female villain who has her own motivation without being a mere pawn for the main villain. She deserves a big role, but not the biggest role. Gappy!Josuke deserves a greater villain to fight than a greedy and vengeful milf who is wronged (by her husband) in the past, someone who hasn't even reached the top (and her own happiness). The mystery of Locacaca’s fruit, the origin of the Higashikata’s curse;the rock disease, what’s up with the Rock humans and the Wall Eyes should be prioritized over the game of throne inheritance fight drama of the Higashikata family’s property and power. To be honest, I still prefer the main villain to be a man… again rather than Caato (even if it is Jobin).

TL;DR Caato will still be my most favorite female villain but potentially becomes my least favorite main villain in JJBA.

#jojolion #kaato higashikata #holly joestar kira #holy kira #my thoughts #jjba part 8 #crazy theory #meta post #main villain theory #Jojo villains #jojo's bizarre adventure #JoJo no Kimyō na Bōken #caato #holy joestar #holy joestar kira

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wisdomrays · 5 years

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KEY CONCEPTS OF SPIRITUALITY IN ISLAM : Irshad and Murshid (Guidance and the Guide)

A guide who himself is in need of special favor Cannot know how he can impart favor to others!

It is truly as if this proverb has been coined in regard to such people. Salim Süleyman Üsküdari voices the same consideration in a poetic way:

Our teacher himself suffers from a lack of knowledge, So how can he know what guidance really is?

Ruhi of Baghdad approached the matter a bit more humorously:

Look at the ascetic: he aspires to be a guide; He started school yesterday, today he wishes to teach.

It is a fact that if there is one thing that is the most enduring in this world and the most meritorious in the Hereafter, it is guidance; and therefore a guide is the most valuable person. However, guides can only educate according to their own capacity. It is possible to talk of a wide range of guides, from the spiritual poles or axes to ordinary preachers.

As we have briefly mentioned, guides are, in a general sense, heralds of truth who possess whatever is necessary for guidance, heroes of spirituality, and heirs to the mission of Prophethood, who convey Divine gifts to the hearts. In regard to some aspects of this mission, a guide is also called a "sitter-on-rug" (postnishin), or the "elder one" (shaykh). The word shaykh is also used in the sense of teacher or professor. A guide favored with special nearness to God and special knowledge from God's Presence, and charged and autho- rized with the duty of guidance, is different from an ordinary preacher. Ordinary guides find in themselves the truths to be imparted to others according to their own horizon of perception, and convey them to others in accordance with their capacity. However, perfect guides, like the North Star, direct all to the true way, based on the fundamental sources of the Religion, and present to others whatever should be presented out of the depths of their hearts and spirit. As for those who are both a spiritual Pole (Qutb) and a Helper or Means of Divine Help (Ghawth), they shape whoever enters their atmosphere in the mold of their own horizon, and rebuild them with the material purely from the Qur'an and the Sunna.

At whatever level it occurs, guidance is the most valued among the duties of servanthood, provided it is done purely for God's sake; and any hero of truth who fulfills such a responsibility is a guide who is an heir to the Prophet, upon him be peace and blessings. However, it should be noted that the companionship of a perfect guide has a particular pleasure of its own and bears signs of a possible "meeting" with God, while it is highly difficult to be able to advance in the company of an imperfect one.

A couplet, whose writer is unknown, reads:

Go to a guide, to a guide, a guide, A guide has a cure for any suffering, O "father!"

Anwari contributes to this meaning with the following:

The mystery lying in, "You will never be able to see Me!" — Which signifies the impossibility of seeing God's "Face"— I was not able to understand it Before my weeping eyes became the Mount of Sinai with love for Him. The mystery of the Cloak in which the People of the Cloak was covered— I was not able to understand it before I became happy in meeting a perfect guide.

Now, without going into the differences that arise from the capacity and amount of knowledge each guide has, or the spiritual gifts that each is favored with, I will try to explain the subject in relation to certain essential elements that are found in every guide.

A guide is one who has sufficient knowledge of the relationship between God, humans, and the universe, and the matters concerning this sphere of the Religion.

Anyone who does not recognize God is a denier and an ignorant one; and those who are unable to perceive the relationship between Him and existence are blind and unaware of the real nature of their existence, while one who does not know himself is, in fact, lonely and a stranger amidst existence. All of these types of human beings themselves are in need of guidance.

A guide is a hero of spirituality, one who is a careful student of the Qur'an and the book of the universe, and one who has an inquiring mind which has an acquaintance with existential mysteries.

A guide is also a sagacious, insightful one with eyes that are observant of things, a tongue busy with reciting the Qur'an, and ears that listen to it. With sound and accurate sense perceptions, profound and comprehensive observations, and powerful reasoning, a guide is distinguished with the manners that are found in a Prophet at a perfect level. Such a person has a universal viewpoint in dealing with matters, is careful of the intersecting points of the revealed rules and commandments and the Divine laws of creation and life. These individuals seek only God's good pleasure and approval in conveying to people what God wants them to convey and in communicating whatever is inspired into them to needy souls, thereby considering His nearness in whatever they do and say.

As they never think of any wage, compensation, or reward, they also attribute any material or spiritual return coming, without expectation, to the sincere efforts of those around them. Without ever appropriating whatever spiritual gifts come to them personally, they regard their followers as a means for the arrival of these gifts. This is, without doubt, self-denial; but in a true guide's sight, it is what an ordinary Muslim should do, not something worthy of acclamation. Such true guides never expect others to appreciate their activities, nor do they aim by them at any worldly or otherworldly outcome, except God's good pleasure and approval. They are always sincere and upright before God, for they are aware that they follow the way of the Prophets and that this way has certain rules to observe, the most important of which is that any guide should pursue only God's pleasure in the act of guiding others.

Like sources of fragrance, such guides diffuse "incense" to satisfy needy hearts; like candles, they consume themselves to illuminate the dark souls around them, for the well-being of the latter. They find true happiness in the happiness of others and avoid no sacrifice in conveying their ideals. They die in order to revive; weep in order to make others laugh; become tired to enable the rest of others; strive constantly in order to be able to awaken others to eternity—without paying any attention to either sincere or insincere appreciation, or to unfair criticisms. They beg God's forgiveness in the face of compliments, welcome any rightful reactions and criticism, and go on without faltering.

In the Naqshbandiya Order, the duty of guidance was not entrusted to those who did not successfully complete all the courses taught in the madrasas or who could not combine spiritual and intellectual enlightenment. Rather, the lodges where the elders or guides of this school taught were each like a fountain of Khadr at which those studying were able to quench their thirst. Any houses of guidance where guides of such caliber did not, or do not, teach are no different from ruins; those who claim guidance in them are deceived and the people who hope for illumination in such centers, which are themselves devoid of light, are indeed unfortunate ones.

Do not offer your hand to whoever claims guidance, For he may lead you to a slope which is impossible to climb, Whereas the path of a perfect guide Is easy enough to follow. Niyazi Misri

However transcendent in general knowledge and knowledge of God they may be, in particular, guides are perfect preachers who can combine, in a balanced way, their ascension toward God while still maintaining the level of their audience when conveying to them what they should convey. They always consider the dispositions, feelings, and thoughts of those whose education they have shouldered, and they avoid causing any misunderstandings or ambiguity in conveying the messages that arise from the particular gifts they have received in the horizon of their relationship with God. A true guide is a strict follower and meticulous student of the Qur'an and is, therefore, obliged to follow the Qur'an in the duty of guidance. Despite being the Word of the All-Great, All-Transcendent One, the Qur'an came to the horizon of the Prophet, upon him be peace and blessings, not in a wholly transcendental manifestation of the Divine Attribute of Speech, but rather, in consideration of the levels of all its audience. Thus, just as the Qur'an addresses humankind according to their many levels of understanding, its first and greatest communicator—and the greatest of all guides—the Prophet Muhammad, upon him be peace and blessings, also considered the different levels of his audience and said: "We, the community of the Prophets, have been ordered to address people according to their capacity of understanding."

Guides speak with the sublimity of their character, the depth of their spirituality, and the language of their actions.

They are exceptionally faithful and devoted to God Almighty. It is an undeniable truth that those whose words do not conform to their actions and who are not trustworthy by their own actions cannot have any positive, lasting influence on people; thus, their message cannot be acceptable. The only way for those things that are said to be acceptable to the human conscience is the unshakable conviction of the truth of those things and the practice of them in one's life. It is reported that God Almighty said to the Prophet Jesus, upon him be peace: "O Jesus! First give advice to your own soul, and only after you have accepted and followed it, then give it to others—or else be ashamed of Me." This is in perfect conformity with what the Qur'an quotes from the Prophet Shu'ayb, upon him be peace:

"I do not want to act in opposition to you (myself doing) what I ask you to avoid." (11:88)

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agentwallflower · 5 years

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Dull One Chapter 49

Well... we’re on the last file. Three chapters and an epilogue left. To say I’m a little emotional is putting things lightly. But we’re here, and we’re gonna roll into this right.

Thank you as always to anyone who read. If you’ve been with me from the start, I hope I at least meet some of your expectations. If not... I’m sorry and I’ll do better next time if you’ll trust me to try again. I still have plenty of ideas, believe me.

Next chapter, next week. It’s a big one. I’m going to try to edit it down a bit, but... it big. Probably the biggest in the novel. Look forward to it because I had fun writing.

Now then. Let’s get this party started.

Oww.

The first thing that came to Mointz was pain centered somewhere in her forehead. Even with her eyes closed, colors exploded before them in reds and yellows that told her she had a nasty headache going on. Yet she wasn't even sure why she had a headache – what she had done to cause something like that?

And more importantly, where the hell was she?

After a few moments of nothing, Mointz found the strength to open her eyes. However, what came to her was pure darkness. At first, she wondered if she had died. After all, shouldn't it have been dark? But dead people didn't have headaches, and they probably didn't have the body function to open their eyes. If they did, well, that would make funerals a little complicated. So, that took dead off the table.

“Voice, can you see anything?”

Mointz waited, hoping, to get a response. If not for the sinking sensation coming deep from her gut, she probably could have waited forever. In the end she had to give up. Voice wasn't answering her, and the answer to why was pretty simple.

Voice wasn't there anymore.

Admitting that made her stomach sink even lower, but Mointz knew deep down it was true. There was no blockage to explain why they weren't answering, and her bracelet was still working fine. The answer she came to was a simple one, but it was one she still didn't like facing.

The dull panic that clawed at her stomach began to work its way up, but she forced it down. She had a job to finish, and that meant getting up to keep going. As much as she wanted to just let go and fall apart, for her sake – And Voice's – she couldn't give in.

Afterwards, when all this was over, maybe then she could let herself go. There would be time for it.

Slowly, her eyes adjusted to the darkness as she waited. Really, it wasn't as dark as she had thought. Maybe it had been her panic that had made her miss the dull red glow that took up one half of the room. Underneath was a row of pots, the dirt scattered from where someone had dug it up. When she went over to investigate, the dirt was dry.

“Wait... I remember these.” She prodded the pot, frowning. “These used to have blue flowers in them.”

Memories flooded back – it felt like a lifetime ago that the mage told her what the flowers did. Now she wondered if they had been lying. After all, others had heard of the cure where they didn't grow. More than that, she remembered something else.

“You know, I think they lied about selling the items off.”

After all, only an idiot would put something they bought under a statue or in the heart of three trials. That was something she was really going to need to talk to the mage about when she saw them again. She didn't like liars much.

Still, her feet took her to another part of the room. Much to her surprise, what she was looking for was resting on the top of the desk. Even after all the time, the two boxes that had contained Spinner and the bracelet still looked new. Their glossy sheen reflected the light and it drew her in. Did it know she was there?

Her finger brushed against the larger box that had once held Spinner. Maybe it was just her imagination, but Mointz swore she felt energy when she touched it. Then she looked down at the weapon belted to her side. In the legends, this was the point where the hero gave their mystic item back to where it had been found. That, or they got buried with it. She wasn't in the mood for getting buried right then, or at all for the matter. Too many walking corpses had put a stop to that.

Should she return it? The mage wasn't around to ask. It didn't look like they had been in their room in a long time anyway, judging from the dust. Mointz felt her stomach shift at the thought, but she pushed it away. Wherever they were, maybe they were just busy. Maybe they had been the one to bring her there. Why they hadn't stayed was beyond her then, so she put that aside too.

Her hand went towards Spinner and she unhooked it from her belt. The shining blade reflected the light, casting a dull red glow when she looked at it. Then she looked back to the open box. It looked as though it was waiting for it. All she had to do was put it back, but-

“The mage never said it was a rental.”

No, all they had mentioned was things have a way of returning to where they're from when they had handed her that bogus list so long ago. The thought of it made her eyebrow twitch as she backed away from the box. Spinner went back on her belt with a click of the locking mechanism that held it firmly in place. Until she heard otherwise, she was keeping the damn thing. Besides, who knows? Maybe Voice would return when this was over.

Mointz closed the box with a firm snap and turned towards the door. Outside the mage's room, it was silent as the tomb. That wasn't surprising – the Brotherhood had always been quiet the few times she had been there. But there was a different between quiet and silent, and she could feel the latter pound down on her as she glanced around in the darkness. It wasn't quiet – it was empty.

“I guess it didn't help as many people as I hoped.”

Whatever the monks believe in, she hope they were at peace, and not just because she didn't feel like fighting their corpses. Sighing, Mointz began to find her way through the darkness. Problem was, she had no idea where she was going. She knew she had to get outside, but... where the hell was outside anyway?

“Little help might be nice.”

A little silence might be nicer.

At first, her heart nearly jumped out of her chest. Then came the crushing downfall as Mointz realized it wasn't Voice speaking to her. Instead, she got to watch as someone hobbled out of the darkness. There was someone in a heavy robe judging from the sound of cloth on stone. That and the gait narrowed it down.

“Glad to see you too. How's the leg?”

Fine. You sound awful, though. Guess heroics really wears you down.

A dull headache was beginning to pound on the inside of Mointz's skull, but it had nothing to do with interference. After all, she had plenty of free real estate for the moment. No, the fact was this monk was just annoying to be around.

Why had she worried about him again?

“Nearly getting killed and starting a few coups will do that to a girl.”

Don't you sound all world weary and wise beyond your years. You're still an annoying girl child to me. You always will be.

Despite the tone, Mointz smiled. “Do I detect a note of affection?”

No. Get your hearing checked. Now come on so I never have to see you again.

The monk started walking back from wherever he came from and Mointz followed after. In the quiet, his mismatched footsteps rang out with every step. One fell harder than the other and took longer to pick up. By her guess, that was the missing one. Living with Falon had taught her that much.

“You getting around ok?”

Quit worrying about me I hate you.

Uh-huh. Mointz shook her head and grinned a little as she kept her pace. Eventually, they made it to the door that leaked light from the bottom. It was the moon that provided this light if the color was anything to go by. Most likely, it was still night. That was more of a comfort than anything else. At least she hadn't lost much.

Only took you three damn years to find them all. Now get out there and finish this before you almost die again.

And with a hearty shove, Mointz lurched into the courtyard. The door shut tightly behind her, and the footsteps trailed off. At least now she could see better, though the abrupt send off had made her ankle hurt.

Asshole.

The small courtyard that housed the pedestal hadn't changed much over the years. It still looked dead as always – wasn't like the monks were any good at gardening anyway. A light wind blew through the barren landscape, but something about it made her frown. It wasn't as if it looked different, but it definitely felt that way. Something about it was... faded. That was the only word that came to mind as Mointz looked around, frowning.

Maybe it was getting tired too.

Much to her disappointment, the Mage wasn't there. However, a mage was. Corabe was seated at the foot of the pedestal, legs crossed and arms folded. Her eyes were closed, and a light violet energy surrounded her. Mointz had never seen her like this before, but the pose reminded her of others who had once needed to focus. Maybe this was just the magic version.

Normally you didn't wake those people up, but she was kind of in the middle of everything. The only option besides disturbing her was stepping on her, and neither of those sounded great. Besides, once the sword was in, somebody had to say the magic words.

Mointz was already spoken for in terms of stabbing, someone else had to make the magic work.

“Hope you know how to activate this thing, because I don't remember.”

Corabe's eyes opened and she rose to her feet with such a fluid grace that it made Mointz's skin crawl. Frantic thoughts flitted through her brain, too fast to grab any one to focus on. There was one theme, however: not good, not good, not good. She had already lost Voice... losing someone else wasn't exactly a high priority on her to-do list, especially not this one.

“Don't worry. I read up on it while you were out.”

Her voice was normal, though it sounded tired. After their weird night, a little exhaustion was to be expected. After all, judging from the sky overhead the dawn was going to break soon. While it would make for a theatrical end to things... it also meant they had been up all night and that was rather unappealing. After all this, they would all need naps.

Hopefully they got the chance to get one.

Still... “How'd you even know where to look?”

At this, Corabe giggled lightly. “When we got here, an angry little man in a robe kept pointing for me to go to a room with some books in it. Couldn't really see his face or anything, but I figured he was a friend of yours.”

Friend. Right. Well, maybe a little humor was appropriate right then.

Still, Corabe stopped laughing soon enough. “Alright, the full prayer doesn't really fit what I'm doing so there's some improvisation here. Has that ever happened before?”

“Yeah, with Falon last year. It still worked so I guess if the feeling is there it's all good.”

That seemed so long ago, but Mointz didn't comment on it. Instead, she took the sword Corabe handed to her. It was shiny; someone had polished it while she was out. Thanks to that, it reflected just how tired she actually looked. Beat down was a good way for it, but also just ready to have this over. Soon it would be, and all this would be a memory. In a way it was sad, but she was glad. After all, her mission all along had been to return the items to save the village she loved.

It had just been one weird detour after another. Now she was back on track.

Mointz approached the podium as the first rays of dawn cracked over the horizon. It was beautiful, but also made her stomach turn as the night turned into a blood red morning. Falon's mutterings of old rhymes about what that meant didn't sit right with her, but it wasn't as if she could change the color. It was red, sailors be warned or not.

“Great omen for today, huh?”

Corabe didn't laugh. She was too focused for that. Just the sight of her made Mointz want to focus too. She took one last breath, looked down at the sword in her hand, and let it go. Soon it would all be over.

“Alright. You say your part and I say mine.”

The last thing she needed to do. After 3 years of running and fighting, it seemed like child's play. After this, it would all go back to normal. Her life would be her own once more, in the tiny village where she had been born and raised.

Though, Mointz had to frown at that as she looked down at the scars that dotted her wrist and arm. Even she knew that there was no going back to exactly the way things were. She had done and seen too much, and so had Corabe. No longer were they the young girls they had once been. Strangers stood there now, molded by what they had gone through.

So no, they couldn't go back. And while that was sad, there was comfort in that there would be many days to come after this. The past was over, but the future had yet to be decided. And now all they had to do was go to meet it.

Corabe stood at her side, face unreadable. She cleared her throat, and soon her words rang out over the small courtyard. “Oh ancient stone that has seen all and watched our many failures. We return with that which had been missing, a fragment of the ancient maiden. Please forgive our sins, for we were only mortals and knew not what we did.”

A shiver ran up Mointz's spine as goosebumps appeared on her skin. Sure, she had heard variances before, but something about this got her right down to her core. And yet she waited – it wasn't done yet.

“Accept this prayer of a humble mage and allow this messenger, she who sees and walks through the world, to reunite the fragments and make all whole. To you I pray, oh ancient one.”

Then she was looking at her partner. This was the point where Mointz came in. Swallowing hard, she walked up to the pedestal. In their slots, the former two items glowed as if they felt her presence. For the first time, they actually looked like they could do something even though she knew they couldn't. Maybe it was a trick of the light or her own nerves. Whatever it was, this would be the last time she saw them, so she got as good a look as she could.

She took a deep breath, and then she spoke. “I have searched your soul and found your identity-”

And then she paused. If Corabe could change the words, so could she. “In my own name because I found the damn thing, I name you Cuillel.”

“Remain calm and trust in your actions.”

Corabe's words came just as she drove the sword home – there was no going back now. It slid in all the way up to its hilt, letting the metal flowers she had worked so hard for catch the morning rays as the sun rose higher in the sky, mingling with the bright beam of light that shot from the heart of the stone. It was a beautiful, blood red dawn, and now she had the rest of her life in front of her.

And then the pedestal shot out more light. It was a blinding blend of pink and white and thousands of other colors she couldn't name, filling the courtyard with its glow. Everything was reduced to white as the feeling of utter nothingness took Mointz over. She was suddenly falling,, removed from the world as light closed around her.

And yet... as she began to lose her consciousness to join the light... she got the feeling that this was the same nonsense as usual. Great.

#The Magpie's Stash #Dull One #Next chapter is like 4.3k #I may need to cut down my purple prose

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tawakkull · 3 years

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ISLAM 101: Spirituality in Islam: Part 129

Irshad and Murshid (Guidance and the Guide)

A guide who himself is in need of special favor Cannot know how he can impart favor to others! It is truly as if this proverb has been coined in regard to such people. Salim Suleyman Uskudari[1] voices the same consideration in a poetic way:

Our teacher himself suffers from a lack of knowledge, So how can he know what guidance really is? Ruhi of Baghdad[2] approached the matter a bit more humorously:

A couplet, whose writer is unknown, reads:

Go to a guide, to a guide, a guide, A guide has a cure for any suffering, O “father!” Anwari[3] contributes to this meaning with the following:

Do not offer your hand to whoever claims guidance, For he may lead you to a slope which is impossible to climb, Whereas the path of a perfect guide Is easy enough to follow. Niyazi Misri[7] However transcendent in general knowledge and knowledge of God they may be, in particular, guides are perfect preachers who can combine, in a balanced way, their ascension toward God while still maintaining the level of their audience when conveying to them what they should convey. They always consider the dispositions, feelings, and thoughts of those whose education they have shouldered, and they avoid causing any misunderstandings or ambiguity in conveying the messages that arise from the particular gifts they have received in the horizon of their relationship with God. A true guide is a strict follower and meticulous student of the Qur’an and is, therefore, obliged to follow the Qur’an in the duty of guidance. Despite being the Word of the All-Great, All-Transcendent One, the Qur’an came to the horizon of the Prophet, upon him be peace and blessings, not in a wholly transcendental manifestation of the Divine Attribute of Speech, but rather, in consideration of the levels of all its audience. Thus, just as the Qur’an addresses humankind according to their many levels of understanding, its first and greatest communicator—and the greatest of all guides—the Prophet Muhammad, upon him be peace and blessings, also considered the different levels of his audience and said: “We, the community of the Prophets, have been ordered to address people according to their capacity of understanding.”[8]

[2] Ruhi of Baghdad (d. 1605) was one of the important figures in Ottoman-Turkish classical literature, who usually wrote about moral issues.

[4] It refers to the Prophet Moses’ desire to see God on Mount Sinai and God’s reply to him, saying: “You will never be able to see Me (while in the world).” See the Qur’an, 7:143.

[7] Mehmed Niyazi Misri (d. 1694), a Sufi poet who was born in Malatya (Turkey), educated in Egypt, and lived in Istanbul and Edirne.

[8] ad-Daylami, al-Musnad, 1:398.

[9]Ibid., 1:144; Abu Nu’aym, Hilyat al-Awliya, 2:382.

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theshatteredrose · 6 years

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Guardian of Healing (Chapter 14 - Final) - Etrian Odyssey 2 Fanfiction

AN: Ridiculously long chapter ahead XD But it’s full of fluff and others fussing over Lynus so it’s no surprise it’s longer than the other chapters. Well, this is the last chapter to this saga. After this one I think I might take a small break from novels for a little while. Maybe chill out with some rping or something. Who knows, I certainly don’t half the time. Anyway, hope you enjoy reading!

AO3 | Wattpad | FFNet

Chapter 14:

Lynus sat against the pillows propped up behind his back and gazed out the window of his hospital room. Two days had passed since the end of the Hex Epidemic and he had spent the majority of that time sleeping, awaking only to eat. It was an odd feeling, being so exhausted. Eating and sleeping, and doing little else. It was something he was not at all used to. He probably never would become accustomed to it.

Another thing he was still acclimatising to was being the centre of everyone’s concerned and worried attention. He had caused worry before, completely unintentionally each time, but this time was different.

What had happened truly scared them. No, terrified them.

Lynus sighed as he sunk deeper against the pillows and continued to stare outside the window. It was a clear day outside so the window was open allowing for a gentle breeze to drift in on occasion.

He was currently alone in his room, but Axel was just outside speaking with Hamza about something. Something they obviously didn’t want to concern him with. But even though Lynus was still suffering from exhaustion he could sense their auras and they weren’t bristling with anger or concern, so the conversation was likely that of idle talk. Or perhaps planning for what they were to do in the future. Lynus was unlikely to be allowed in the labyrinth for a few more days.

Sitting in this bed, alone with his thoughts, Lynus couldn’t help but feel anxious. Well, not quite anxious perhaps restless was a better word. He was in the hospital and though he was currently a patient, he still felt the urge to get up and do his rounds.

He truly was a workaholic, wasn’t he?

He didn’t remember much of the last couple of days. He remembered seeing the others on occasion, finding them sat by his bedside, seemingly waiting for him to awaken. Or being gently awoken by them in order to get something to eat and drink. He did remember the relief upon seeing them, though. He trusted and believed in what Axel said, about how he had managed to heal them all, but he still needed to see for himself.

And thankfully he couldn’t sense any lingering curses or hexes upon them. He may have been exhausted, on the brink of falling back to sleep during many of their encounters, but it was his pure instinct to assess them immediately.

They truly were safe and unharmed.

He was…glad. He didn’t understand how he had done it and he tried not to think about it too much. He just needed to focus on himself, to get himself to a state where he didn’t have to worry anyone anymore. Focusing on himself was going to be difficult, he had been trying for ages now with little progress, but he had to try.

For Axel’s sake. For his family’s sake.

The presence of Dr Stiles’ aura as it grew closer caused Lynus to roll his head away from the window and to instead look expectantly at the door. He waited for what felt like a minute as Dr Stiles paused to speak with Axel and Hamza outside before he opened the door and stepped in.

“Ah, good, you’re awake,” he said with relief in his voice and quickly made his way over to the bed. “How are you feeling?”

Lynus gave the head doctor a small smile. “Just a little tired yet restless,” he answered honestly. “I actually feel as though I should be getting up and making myself useful.”

Dr Stiles nodded his head, not at all surprised. “That’s not surprising. But if you attempt it…”

Lynus had to chuckle at the threat that was left hanging. He fell silent as Dr Stiles began his usual inspection, checking his vitals, ensuring he was comfortable and that he had been eating the food he had been given. He asked the typical questions medical staff ask a patient and Lynus knew them off by heart, and knew how to answer them to offer the best indication to his health.

However, Dr Stiles seemed to be asking more questions than usual. He was also fussier than usual. Well, he could have been like this during his previous inspections but Lynus was too tired to take too much notice. His questions were more…parental, though.

“Your blood pressure is still a little on the low side of things, but I’m not overly concerned,” Dr Stiles spoke after he conducted his inspection and perched himself on the edge of the bed.

“Ah, so I’ll be stuck here for a few more days?” Lynus questioned.

Dr Stiles thought to himself for a moment. “Well, if you’re good, you might be able to leave tomorrow afternoon.”

That was a relief! Nothing against the hospital, of course. But his own personal space and his own bed, with Axel with him, he would feel so much better. It would also reassure his guildmates.

“I’ll try my best,” Lynus said in return before he smiled in a soft and playful manner. “But that window is looking awfully tempting right now.”

Dr Stiles uttered a chuckle, seemingly despite himself. “You wouldn’t be the first to try, I assure you,” he said with a smile before his expression abruptly changed into a somewhat stoic and serious look.

It honestly made Lynus feel a little nervous.

“I need to ask you something,” Dr Stiles said with a serious tone, his voice low. “It’s a personal question but I need to know so I can help you.”

Lynus immediately felt a spike of fear appear in his chest and he subconsciously swallowed hard. He was fairly certain he knew what Dr Stiles was going to ask him. And he wasn’t sure if he could answer it. He understood why he wanted to know, why he needed to know. It was just…he didn’t know how Dr Stiles would react to the truth. He didn’t want him to change his feelings or thoughts on him.

Curling his hands tightly around the bedsheets pooled at his waist, Lynus reluctantly nodded his head. “…Ok.”

“How old were you when you started healing?” Dr Stiles asked, though made no attempt to pull out his usual notepad.

Lynus thought for a moment. “I remember using a cure spell for the first time when I was about six,” he admitted around the lump that had formed in his throat. He somehow managed a shaky smile as he added; “Axel fell out of a tree and hurt himself.”

The corner of Dr Stiles’ mouth twitched into a smile and he nodded his head. That smile soon faded as he repositioned himself on the bed so that he was focusing more clearly on Lynus. “And how old were you when you started healing consciously?”

Once more, Lynus fell silent as he took a moment to think. “Um, about eight, I think. It was more so healing cuts and scrapes. I…don’t really remember, I’m afraid,” he admitted as he found himself sinking back against the pillows. “My village and childhood, I mean.”

Dr Stiles’ brow furrowed slightly and his eyes searched Lynus’ carefully. “Did you have a mentor or teacher?”

Lynus just shook his head no. No, he didn’t. He was really the only healer of his village. From what he could remember at least. He wasn’t entirely sure of that. But he was certain that he did not have a mentor. He did not have anyone try to act as his guide. It was just…him.

The head doctor’s brow furrowed even deeper as he leaned forward slightly. “Self-taught?”

Lynus pressed his lips together and nodded his head once.

“I see,” Dr Stiles murmured, though he did not look all that pleased. Confused, but not exactly happy by any means. But then he asked a question that Lynus had feared since their talk began. “How old were you when you started healing professionally?”

Tears immediately pooled in Lynus’ eyes and he felt his breathing and heartrate increase. He pressed his lips tighter together and shook his head. Please, don’t ask him when and how, or why. Please, just leave it. He didn’t want to remember. He didn’t want Dr Stiles to look at him differently.

But of course, Dr Stiles immediately noticed his tears and reaction and he looked puzzled. He, however, shuffled forward to take Lynus by his shoulders, his touch thankfully soft, as he tried to comfort him. “I’m sorry if this is painful for you. But please, please I need to know. I want to know everything. I want to help you. Your skills are extraordinary, but your healing is external and none internal. Lynus, I need to know why you can only heal others and not yourself. Please, tell me everything.”

Lynus’ chest burned as tears blurred his vision. He tried to shake his head. He didn’t want to say those words again. He didn’t want to remember.

“Wh-when I was ten I was kidnapped by a violent lord to act as his personal medic,” Lynus blurted out as tears rolled down his cheeks unimpeded and he began to hiccup as he tried to talk and breath at the same time. “I was…I was there for e-eight years. I had to learn everything myself. I had to look after others. I was never…I don’t know…”

Dr Stiles was silent and though tears blurred Lynus’ vision to the point where everything was a mash of different colours, he knew that he was just staring at him. He could sense the shock in his aura. He could feel his hands tightening on his shoulders.

A sob hitched in Lynus’ throat as he took Dr Stiles’ silence at a bad sign and he covered his face with his hands. However, the hands that held his shoulders tightened further and suddenly he found himself being pulled toward Dr Stiles as he arms came around him in a tight, almost crushing hug.

Another sob found its way passed Lynus’ lips, but this one held a sense of relief to it and he clutched at the front of Dr Stiles’ shirt with his hands. He cried softly into his shoulder at the unwanted memories of being under the steely control of a violent and egotistical lord, and Dr Stiles’ continued to hold him, whispering soft words of reassurance and apologises into his ear while he ran his fingers soothing through his hair.

He didn’t ask him anymore questions. He seemed to understand enough now. About how long he had been holding that in, how long he had been a hostage for, and how long he had been free.

“You’re so much stronger than I could have ever imagined,” Dr Stiles unexpectedly murmured as he continued to rake his fingers through his hair.

Strong? Was he really as strong as people believed? He…didn’t think he was.

“I’m sorry,” Dr Stiles said as he pulled back from Lynus but kept his hands on his shoulders. “I had no idea you were carrying such burdens.”

Lynus kept his head down as he hastily wiped as his tears. He shook his head, though, and tried to respond with his habitual brand of reassurance. “It’s…ok. I wanted to forget. Only my guild knows. I’m…fine now.”

Dr Stiles suddenly uttered a sigh. “You do yourself a disservice by stating you are fine.”

His chest still burned, and he felt heavy and fatigued. And yet, he also felt a sense of…peace. He had feared how Dr Stiles would respond to learning of his past, of how he became a healer. The longer he had worked with him and for him, the deeper the dread and fear he felt that one day he would learn the truth.

But he knew now. And his response wasn’t negative.

He was so relieved.

“I’m glad that I know why you are the way you are now,” Dr Stiles continued. “When I first met you, I knew you were an extraordinary medic. And I was right. You have remarkable inner spiritual power that is born of love, wisdom, and grace. You have inspired so many to be the best healers they can be. Including me. Truly, your inner light illuminates the path for those who walk beside you.”

Lynus could only stare at Dr Stiles in disbelief and shock before tears welled in his eyes once more as what he just said slowly registered in his mind. To think that the man he considered to be his mentor and friend thought so highly of him, to give him such praise…

Surprising? Relieving? Humbling? He wasn’t sure. But he was…happy.

“Although it seems that I have little more to teach you, I can and will teach you to turn some of your extraordinary healing power inwards,” Dr Stiles said as he idly smoothed down his hair in a purely parental manner. “First, though, I need your consent. The first and most important step to begin your own healing is being able to recognise that you need it.”

That…was true, wasn’t it? He really did want to learn how to take care of himself. Although not entirely for himself. But for Axel and the others. It was a start, though, right? Maybe…it could become a habit of his?

“I want to try,” Lynus admitted. “Healing myself, I mean.”

Dr Stiles smiled at that. A small but soft smile that held pure relief. “Then I will do everything I can to bring you to full health. You are under my care now. Everything will be all right.”

Lynus immediately believed him. “Thank you.”

But Dr Stiles shook his head and gently rubbed the pad of his thumb against Lynus’ cheek. “No, it’s the least I can do. After everything you’ve done for us. But for now, get some sleep. Axel is just itching to get back in here.”

A small chuckle slipped past Lynus’ lips and he nodded his head. He did feel tired and yet…content. He readily sunk back into the pillows behind him and closed his eyes, easily falling into a restful sleep.

… … … … …

It was a few hours later when Lynus was gently awoken by Axel’s voice urging him to open his eyes. It was lunchtime, he said. Time for something to eat. Though Axel felt guilty about waking him up from a restful sleep, Lynus was indeed on a diet plan where he was to have at least three meals a day. Snacks in-between permitted.

Slowly, Lynus opened his eyes and looked up to his right where Axel stood. He had a gentle and fond smile on his lips and Lynus couldn’t help but smile back at him. Though he felt tired and drained from his previous talk with Dr Stiles, he allowed for Axel to help him to sit up and let him prop the pillows up behind him once more.

As Axel fussed over him, Lynus had to push back the urge to tell him that he was ok and not to worry over him too much. It was his instinct to reassure and brush aside his own needs, after all. But Axel was going to fuss over him regardless. And, honestly, he probably deserved it. He scared the life out of him so letting him fuss was allowing him to elevate some of his own concerns. So, it was good for him in the long run.

When Lynus was settled and comfortable against the pillows behind him, Axel paused next to him and lifted a hand to play with a strand of his orange hair. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

Lynus smiled as he idly tilted his head toward Axel’s hand, letting him drop his hold on his hair to instead tenderly touch the side of his face. “I feel better than I did this morning,” he answered honestly. “Dr Stiles knows about…that.”

Axel sighed and didn’t look surprised. “I know,” he said simply.

Lynus peered up at him curiously. “Did you know beforehand?” he asked, not accusingly, but curiously because he felt that if Axel knew beforehand he would have intervened somehow for his sake.

“No, but Hamza apparently did,” Axel replied with a slight shake of his head. “He had to hold me back from kicking in the door after I heard you…talking.”

Crying, more like it. Still, Lynus had to smile. “I’m actually relieved,” he said as he reached up to cover Axel’s hand with his own. “I don’t have to worry about it anymore. And maybe I can…start to heal myself.”

Axel gently stroked his cheek with his thumb before he leaned down to place a soft and lingering kiss to his forehead. Lynus closed his eyes and relished in the gentle affection.

The feeling of his guildmates’ auras and approaching footsteps caused Lynus to open his eyes and turned his attention toward the door as Axel stood up once more. He also glanced over at the door and seemed to wait until the footsteps outside paused.

“You guys can come in!” he called out to them.

Not a moment later the door to Lynus’ room opened, almost with a flourish and the entirety of his guild was seen huddled outside. They were very clearly relieved to see him actually sitting up, conscious and able to engage with them again.

Magnus was the first to hurry toward into the room and over to the bed. He then did something that was rather out of character for the shy alchemist; he threw his arms around Lynus in a tight hug. Lynus was surprised, but only for a moment before he slipped his arms around Magnus and returned the hug with as much strength as he could muster. He could tell by the way Magnus held him that he needed this comforting hug for quite a while now.

After a long moment, Magnus pulled back and looked at him with his big blue eyes. His lips were parted slightly, as if he wanted to say something, to ask him something. But Lynus gently silenced him by leaning forward and placing his forehead against his.

“I’m going to be fine,” he whispered. “It’s all right. Don’t worry. I’m still here. We all are.”

Magnus pressed his lips together and swallowed thickly, but he nodded his head nonetheless. And he looked reassured. Relieved. Lynus gave him a reassuring smile before he pulled back and watched as Shen approached. He slipped up behind Magnus and placed his hands on his upper arms before he leaned forward to whisper something to him.

Magnus nodded his head to whatever Shen said to him. He didn’t step back. Instead he stayed pressed against the bed and against Shen, as Shen removed one of his hands from Magnus and unexpectedly reached out to gently touch Lynus’ own arm. It was a gentle touch, a simple touch, but it was significant. And it spoke volumes.

Lynus glanced down at his hand in surprise, but felt a smile return to his lips and he turned his gaze back toward Shen. He didn’t say anything. Instead he lifted his hand and placed it on top of Shen’s. He squeezed his hand back, silently telling him in return that he was ok and that he was glad that he, along with everyone else, was ok.

Shen gave his arm a gentle squeeze before he pulled his hand away and Lynus let his own hand drop to his lap. Only then did Magnus step away from the bed, Shen accompanying him.

Lirit was the next person to approach him and he immediately slipped his arms around him in a hug. Not hesitation whatsoever, which was usual for him. He, however, also did something somewhat expected; he planted a quick and purely familial kiss to his cheek.

“You’re looking better,” he said as he pulled back and smiled at him. “You have colour back to your cheeks.”

Lynus smiled at him, thankful for Lirit’s idle chatter as it, too, seemed to put everyone at ease. “I’ve done nothing but eat and sleep the last couple of days. I feel like I’m on vacation.”

Lirit laughed freely and Lynus could feel the tension from the others drop even further. “Well, you certainly deserve one. Binah and Becky couldn’t come today as Matron wanted them to stay at the inn with her so they can prepare a few things.”

Hmm? Prepare? Ah, probably for his eventual return. No doubt that Dr Stiles had sent a list of meals and whatnot to her in preparation of his new health plan. Hope he wasn’t causing too much trouble at the inn.

He didn’t have time to ask Lirit, though; as soon as he stepped back Cedric stepped forward, and soon had his arms around him in an exuberant hug. So cheerful that Lynus had to laugh softly as he returned the hug, his laugh continuing as Cedric planted a kiss to his cheek also.

“We’ve brought you some real food,” Cedric said as he pulled back. “We’re certain that you’re sick of hospital food.”

“The food hasn’t been that bad, but a home cook meal would be so nice right now,” Lynus said as Cedric turned to fuss over a few parcels he and the others must have carried in.

With Cedric focused elsewhere, Macerio quickly took his place by the bed and like what Magnus had done; he wrapped his arms around him and pressed his face against his shoulder. Lynus immediately slipped his arms around him in return, resting his cheek against Macerio’s temple and running his fingers through his hair as he whispered words of reassurance into his ear.

Macerio didn’t say anything, surprisingly, but nodded his head on occasion and Lynus could feel him getting shaky and emotional. So, he kept idly running his fingers through his hair to comfort him.

It took Hamza stepping up behind Macerio and placing his hand on his back to prompt Macerio to pull back. He thankfully didn’t have tears on his cheeks, but he was considerably relieved to have been able to hug him, to reaffirm to himself that Lynus was indeed all right.

Hamza gently guided Macerio away from Lynus and toward Lirit, who quickly pulled him into another hug. Hamza then turned back to him and gave him a small smile. “Needlessly to say, we’re relieved. Your children are looking forward to your return home.”

Children, hmm? Well, they were family so why not?

“If I’m good I may return home tomorrow afternoon,” Lynus replied, his answer seemingly bringing a new wave of relief to the occupants of the room.

“Ah, you must be eager to return home, also,” Jhon said as he walked over to the bed and leaned his tall frame forward to give Lynus a hug also.

Lynus, of course, reached up to return the hug. However, his grip on Jhon’s shirt tightened subtly when he whispered something into his ear. “We all would feel reassured to have you safe at home.”

“I want nothing more than to be home, also,” Lynus whispered in response as he pressed his cheek against his shoulder.

Jhon tightened his arms around him ever so slightly, prolonging the hug before he eventually pulled back. He smiled as he stepped back, and without any prompting from him whatsoever, Tobyn took his turn to step forward. And without any hesitation, just like the others, he promptly wrapped his arms around him in a hug as well.

The hug was surprisingly not awkward or silted at all. It was warm and sincere. A testament that he had been greatly worried about him and he, too, was relieved that he, that everyone was all right.

Tobyn didn’t say anything as he hugged him and Lynus didn’t speak either. He just hugged him back as tightly as he could, silently telling him that he understood everything he had felt. They were all ok. And that was all that mattered.

After a moment, Tobyn pulled back also. As he did so, though, his brow furrowed slightly. “Has your hair gotten longer?” he asked.

Lynus instinctively reached up to touch his hair. “I…think so,” he said as he idly curled a strand of his hair around his finger.

“I think it has, too,” Axel said as he stood next to him and placed a hand on his back. “It suits you, though.”

“Hmm, well the longer it is, the easier for it to be tied back, I suppose,” Lynus said with a shrug and dropped his hand back onto the bed.

He was about to say something else but was interrupted when Chi-hung practically climbed onto the bed and Lynus laughed as he threw his arms around the white-tiger’s neck and hugged him. Chi-hung purred loudly as he nuzzled his head against his arm and the side of his head.

With Chi-hung happily nuzzling, Lynus realised that he had been embraced by all members of his guild. Besides one, that was.

Resting his chin atop of Chi-hung’s head, Lynus glanced around the room to find Rahas standing near the window. The open window. He hadn’t made a break for it yet. So that was a good sign. He was uncomfortable, though. But the open displays of affection toward him.

Lynus could sense that a small part of Rahas wish he could also participate in such open displays. He just didn’t know how. He didn’t know how to let himself show open affection.

It was…sad. But Lynus understood. And he couldn’t push him.

He wouldn’t push him. However, someone else might. And that someone else was approaching quickly. Lynus could sense his aura so clearly.

Lynus lifted his head from Chi-hung’s and glanced over at the door. Not a moment later the door opened and Shiki stood on the threshold, his hand on the door handle and his eyes immediately locking with Lynus’.

There was an immediate expression of relief on his face and his shoulders sagged ever so slightly. He didn’t bother to excuse himself or explain his presence. He simply stepped into the room and quickly made his way to the bed.

Chi-hung seemed to understand what was to happen so reluctantly, and with an annoyed flick of his tail, climbed off the bed. As soon as he did so, Lynus found himself wrapped in Shiki’s arms as the other man hugged him so tightly.

Once more, Lynus readily returned the hug he was given. He slipped his arms around Shiki the best he could. However, his hand slid along Shiki’s injured left arm and he felt himself pause. He could feel the injuries beneath the thick bandages. Feel heavy scars and deep wounds. And the weakness in the muscles. Well, in the muscles that were left.

What? What had happened to his arm?

Shiki suddenly pulled back and held him by his shoulders. “I can’t believe it; you’ve gotten even skinner. Is that even possible? Honestly, at this point you’ll have to run around in the shower to get wet!”

Lynus felt himself simultaneously blush and pout at the same time. He couldn’t say anything in response, though. Even he noticed that he had lost some weight. His clothes were looser than they usually were.

“Shi, get your Emo Son to stop being emo for a second and give Mama Lynus here a hug!” Cedric suddenly and unexpectedly ordered.

Shiki immediately turned to look in Rahas’ direction, his brow furrowed slightly. “You haven’t hugged Lynus yet?”

Seemingly surrounded by Cedric, Lirit, and Macerio, Rahas immediately bristled, but he seemed to fumble over his words. “Well, how could I when everyone else is hogging him!” he unexpectedly shouted.

Shiki scoffed in a way that was purely fatherly before he crossed the room to where Rahas stood. Rahas instinctively took a step back with a wary and suspicious look on his face while Lirit and Macerio scurried out of the way, both wearing similar expressions of amusement on their faces.

Moving suddenly, Shiki had Rahas in a headlock with one arm and he dragged his knuckles through his hair. “Well, no time like the present. Hop to!” he said as he dragged Rahas toward the bed, the dark hunter kicking and flailing. Not biting and shrieking yet, but he was most likely on the verge of doing so.

Lynus had to laugh, but of course took mercy on Rahas and reached out to hug him both playfully, but sincerely the moment he was close enough. He felt Rahas stiffen in his arms, standing awkwardly still. But Lynus kept his arms firm around him and Shiki kept him pushed toward the bed.

Slowly, Rahas began to relax. Had it only been the two of them Lynus was certain that Rahas would have quickly returned the hug. Maybe even desperately. But because they had company, he would have to settle for Rahas lightly returning the hug.

It was all right. Maybe he could get a sincerer hug from Rahas later. When it was just the two of them. Or maybe even the three of them if Shiki was there also.

“Now Shiki, be careful,” Hamza chided in an almost playful. “We’re in the hospital and Axel is looking as though he wants to acquaint the both of you with his fist, which honestly would be completely warranted at this point.”

When he felt Rahas stiffen again, Lynus removed his arms from around Rahas’ neck and shoulders, and he gave him a small smile as Rahas shuffled back. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket and slunk back. He didn’t immediately head for the window, though, which was a good sign.

“I haven’t had the pleasure of being punched by the infamous Axel yet, but from reputation alone, I wouldn’t want to,” Shiki said with a purely cheeky smile on his lip as he shot Axel a glance.

Axel simply snorted in response but said nothing else. He simply stepped closer to the bed and closer to Lynus. Lynus just smiled up at him, thankful for his patience as everyone show their relief and affection towards him. He’d be sure to allow Axel time to show his own affection toward him later when they were alone again.

“Well, time for something to eat, I think,” Cedric said in a chatty manner as he revealed a couple of plates of precooked food. “Matron has been waiting ever so eagerly to have you home so she can fatten you up.”

“Oh, that’s right! Matron made you a get-well gift, too. The pinkettes helped of course,” Lirit added as he picked up a brown paper bag pulled out something purple and made of wool.

He stretched it out, revealing to him that it appeared to be a piece of clothing. A woollen poncho type garment that was a dark purple in colour, similar to that of the gemstone amethyst, with a hood and large buttons down the front.

It looked large yet comfortable. Fluffy even.

“Matron made that?” Lynus asked, surprised and yet not totally shocked.

Lirit smiled. “Yep. Something warm and comfortable for you to relax in,” he said as he approached the bed, motioning for Lynus to try it on.

With Axel’s help, Lynus slipped off the cardigan he wore and allowed Lirit to help him pull the poncho on over his head. Lirit busied himself soothing the warm, fluffy material against his shoulders as Axel carefully pulled his hair free to drape over his shoulders and back. Lynus idly smoothed down the clothing over his stomach and lap.

It was warm and comfortable. Lovingly made. Made for him.

“That colour purple suits you so well,” Jhon complimented with a smile as the others nodded their head in agreement.

Lynus smiled in return and snuggled into his new and comfortable piece of clothing. He settled back against the pillows once more, feeling warmer than before as he watched as the others mingled around the room, chatting him with him and each other. Fussing over him and allowing each other to take turns in their fussing.

As he sat there, allowing himself to bask in their attention without guilt for once, Lynus was quick to realise how truly lucky he was.

He loved his guildmates, his friends, his family so much. Everyone. He loved them all. He’d do anything to protect and heal them. All of them. Do whatever it took.

If it meant sprouting wings and a case of severe exhaustion, then so be it.

Lynus was pulled from his musings when Axel kissed him upon his forehead once more. “Are you all right?” he asked him.

Lynus smiled as he leaned forward to lightly kiss Axel on his lips. “Yeah, I’m all right now.”

#Etrian Odyssey #etrian odyssey 2 #Guardian of Healing #Guardian Guild #fanfiction #CtS Crew

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avengingsupernatural-blog · 6 years

Text

Infected Part I Dean Winchester X Reader

Kansas City, Missouri. A city overrun with the deadly disease, the Croatoan virus. It is known that this virus turns any living being into a mindless flesh eater, only locking on the scent of skin and blood, pursuing the victim with haste. This infection is unforgiving, never slowing the spread of it's deadly toxins until the host's body cannot live with them anymore, and they move on. With no cure, unless its a bullet to the head, survival rates have dropped into the low twenties. The life expectancy now is 30's-40's, anyone who lives longer than 50 is said to have become immune to the virus and is encouraged to donate blood, although no real scientific evidence proves this may cure the disease.

Elderly have almost all died out, having little to no ways to stop the virus, they die almost instantly. Pregnant mothers are even more exposed to the disease, yet the effects are different. Rather than over taking the woman, the Croatoan virus develops in the fetus, but doesn't kill it as the unborn child is sucking nutrients and life from its mother, now the host. The woman almost always dies giving birth, since the child rips and eats its way out of her. These beings are even more intelligent and can live longer than those who were merely infected, becoming the ultimate killings machine.

It was July 17th, 2020. (Y/N) (L/N) is a 29 year old that has survived all five years the Apocalypse and the Croatoan virus had taken over her life. From a hard working, just out of college, 24 year old who planned to earn a living doing (Dream Job), to a stone faced, machine gun operator, 29 year old who now fights for her life and for others. She is an armed and deadly guard in the only safe haven in Kansas City, Missouri, the only safe haven within a 50 mile radius of Missouri. Constantly training in weaponry, combat, and learning all she can on how to stop the virus as well as the devil who showed it to the world. (Y/N) was once a happy go lucky woman, paying off college debts, now having seen her mother turned into one of those beasts and having to shoot her right before her eyes, she doesn't smile anymore. She shows no emotion, only except those of determination to kill the ones who ruined her life as well as others. No one approaches her unless it's to give orders or for necessary communication, she is alone. Trapped in her own world of death and solitude, she waits for the day the world's terror is over, or when the world will be kind enough and take her away from such an unforgiving battlefield.

"There are about twenty or so Croats approaching the Southeast border of Wall Victoria." A scout reported to you through your walkie talkie, the other 100 soldiers also heard the announcement, hustling over to you to hear your orders.

"You heard Lee, grab your gear, we head over to the Southeast border in 3 minutes. I want only 30 troops, since this mission will only be either long range or observation." You ordered, all your troops saluted, quickly organizing their weapons and packs.

At this safe haven in Kansas City, Missouri, called The Outlier, about 7,000 people live within the city border. The massive wall standing over 160 feet, made of pure metal that was 10 feet thick and had four massive doors in all of the Cardinal directions, called The Brinks. The Apocalypse as well as the Croatoan virus had only been in Kansas City for 5 years, but it had started to form years before that, luckily in cities farther away from Missouri. The national government ordered specific safe havens to be built in different states, and Missouri was one of them. The wall, named Wall Victoria, had taken only 10 years to build, as the construction never stopped, and workers had been hired from all around the world to build these massive refugee havens. Most of the world now lives in the U.S, with only a few remaining strongholds in Asia, Australia, and Europe. People of all different cultures have managed to put aside disputes and rivalries, all for the sake to keep the human race alive.

There was a sort of military system within The Outlier as well. It was nothing formal like the Navy, Marines, or Army, and not nearly as extensive, but it was something to keep the average citizens alive. Every soldiers of authority had daily workout regimens to keep them fit and alive for battle. Weapons cleaning, supplies and provisions checks, and population count was also a weekly activity that the Outlier military performed.

In the military, there are four branches. First, there were the troops, scouts and soldiers, the lowest level of authority. Then there were the Captains, who all have about 100 soldiers under their command. There were 16 squadrons and 16 Captains. You were the Captain of squadron 14, your brother was the Captain of squadron 13. Next was the Commanders. Your father was also one of these Commanders, he oversaw the South Brink, where both you and your brother were also stationed. There were four of these people, each governing 4 squadrons, and each Commander was stationed at either of the four Brinks. At the very top was the General. This person oversees the entire military force as well as the civilian populations. The General gives all the orders and makes the rules while also consulting with the four Commanders. General Henry Mayhan was his name, this man was the most dependable person within The Outlier.

"Troops return and report." You spoke into your walkie talkie, within seconds your 30 soldiers were filed in rows, their items gathered, expressions tense.

"This mission is strictly observe and report only. Unless I get the command that we are to engage in battle, I want all of your eyes, minds, and reflexes sharp and focused. We must observe what the Croats are doing, without getting noticed by them. We will be climbing the top of the South Brink to observe, have your binoculars ready. The Croats are one mile out from Wall Victoria and are slowly heading towards the civilians. If I do receive the order we are to engage in combat, we will only use long distant weaponry, as there will be no need to fight them on the ground since there are no civilians or scouts within the area. Squadron 14, are we clear?" You shouted, head held high.

"Yes ma'am!" They shouted back.

"Load up into the trucks, I will lead our way to the South Brink, wait on my signal." You ordered.

"Yes ma'am!" The saluted and quickly filed within the army trucks nearby.

You secured your pack on your back, retrieving the keys from your pocket and revved up the engine to truck #1. Once you saw that all the trucks were packed, you pressed your foot on he accelerator, speeding off down the secured military roadways. Your gloved hands gripped the steering wheel, processing how the mission may go. Worst case scenario was the Croats were smart enough to use the metal foot holdings on either side of the Brink and climb up on top of Wall Victoria. You had hoped that you didn't need to fire off any rounds, since hitting a Croat from such a distance square in the melon was something tricky, and would cost the military precious ammunition.

You had noticed that Croats these days have become more and more intelligent. Picking up discarded guns and finding half empty magazines, loading them in properly and knowing to aim and push the trigger. They were not anything special with a malfunctioning gun and used up magazines, never becoming a real threat but they did plan their attacks much more strategically than before. years before, Croats would attack at random, only up to five at a time, and only clawing the wall and muttering incoherent sayings. Now they send in decoys, ones that are mindless and only look for flesh, while the more intelligent scurry around the burnt obstacles and objects surrounding the outside of Wall Victoria. You noticed the Croats look before they act, maybe not necessarily thinking before they run towards the wall, but they have picked up the sense to detect danger.

If their evolution continues, the Croats will have no doubt formed a more threatening battle strategy that would cause even more problems within The Outlier.

"We are approaching the South Brink." You radioed to the other trucks, hearing responses of acknowledgement in return. You drove over the the soldiers stationed before the gate, stopping your truck and rolling down the window.

"Captain (L/N), reporting for a mission at the top of the South Brink, orders to observe and report only." You told the guards who stood before you.

"Yes ma'am, be careful." The soldier saluted and told his fellow troops to allow you and your squadron passage through.

You climbed out of the truck and your soldiers followed suit, following you in double lines. You entered the inside of the wall, climbing the many flights of stairs before reaching the top of Wall Victoria. You looked out above the city then turned towards the outside world. Taking out your binoculars you scanned over the horizon, walking farther and farther towards the East, where the Croats were spotted. You managed to find them through the haze and heat, you counted 22 in all.

Your troops had been following you, but as a distance in case you needed to retrace some steps. They also took out their binoculars and began to observe the desolated area.

"Captain (L/N), Croats spotted!" A soldier reported.

"Yeah, I see em'. Get into position." You ordered, your soldiers began to spread out across the wall in either direction, continuing observation.

You backed away from the ledge, turning your walkie talkie to a different channel. "Commander (L/N), Squadron 14 is now is the stationed position, any further orders?"

A gruff and tired voice spoke through the device. "No, just keep doing what your doing, within the next twenty minutes I will have contacted you again with any further instructions, Captain (L/N)." There was a brief pause, "Stay safe, (Y/N)." This was no longer Commander (Y/N), but your father.

You showed but a brief smile, "I will, Dad." before disconnecting. Your family were the only people who could ever see the old (Y/N).

"Within twenty minutes we will have more orders, until then eyes are sharp and and the look out for any danger." You yelled so your troops could hear you.

"Yes ma'am!"

You sighed, turning towards the city, your hands resting on the ledge, supporting the rest of your upper body weight.

It was 2:23 p.m. You had eaten nothing but a can of baked beans and chugged a bottle of water for lunch. You managed to sneak in a few packets of ketchup and mustard along with four pinches of brown sugar in your Bush's baked beans, a little trick to make the flavor in the sauce be pronounced even more. Something your mother had taught you at a young age.

The city was scrapped and falling apart, having to wait another month for more building and construction materials to be delivered from California. Most of the houses were either shacks made of soggy and used wood scraps, or multiple families might have fixed up a still standing house and made something from it. You lived in your childhood home with your father and brother, you were fortunate enough to even have the structure still standing after the first wave of Croats wrecked havoc among the city.

Money was not really any concern anymore. The safe havens around the U.S now have to trade to survive, but no one has to pay money for the materials. There is no more economy, paying jobs, or banks anymore, at least not in America. This country was hit the hardest, why waste even more effort to keep up an economy or banking systems? Right now neither of those things are of top priority to the U.S government. People within the safe havens have been chosen as "vendors" of sorts. They are shipped the materials and set up stands to hand them out to anyone who needs them. Though materials are always kept under strict surveillance, especially food, and are limited to certain amounts a day. Everybody loves free things, but never under these circumstances.

"What have we become?" You sighed, staring at nothing in particular.

"Captain (Y/N)!" One of your soldiers yelled, putting his binoculars down and looking in your direction.

"What is it Evans?" You asked, walking over to the soldier.

"I am seeing strange activity from the Croats."

"Oh? How so?"

"They seem to be guarding something, but I can't tell what it is. It's a large dark object, some are also carrying weapons, but I suspect they must be damaged, but nonetheless, this is suspicious." The Soldiers named Evans reported.

"This is very strange." You hummed to yourself. Guarding? What are they guarding? The Croats never showed actions like this before, this is definitely odd.

You pulled out your walkie talkie, contacting your father.

"Commander (L/N), we have strange reports coming from the South Brink, the Croats-

"(Y/N)! Shoot them down now!" Your father yelled frantically into the device.

"Dad! What is happening!" You shouted, urgency filling your voice.

"Scouts have reported the Croats have gotten their hands on a missile, a missile that could tear a hole in Wall Victoria." Your father said.

"A missile? How the hell did they getta damn missile!" You growled, turning to watch the Croats.

"I don't know, it may have been left in the outer city on accident from the first few Croatoan attacks years ago." He sighed, you knew he was probably blaming himself for something beyond his control right now.

"Troops!" You shouted, lowering your walkie talkie. "The dark object has been identified at a missile, one that could potentially cause major damage to Wall Victoria." You walked among them, briskly pacing down the row. "Shoot down the Croats, without shooting the missile itself. The damn thing could explode with a sing hot from a bullet, make haste but with extreme caution!"

"Yes ma'am!" Squadron 14 began to assemble their long distance rifles, and taking aim. You had begun to do the same, knowing that the quicker the threat was eliminated, the better for the while city.

One after another, the Croats' guards began to drop, your squadron's aim proving it's worth today. All 22 Croats had been taken down in 6 minutes, less than 200 bullets were used, the missile was never shot.

"Commander (L/N), this is Captain (L/N), the threat has been completely wiped out, all that's left is the missile." You reported back, a sigh escaping your lips.

"Good, Squadron 15 will retrieve the missile, head back to your camp. (Y/N), I only need you to report to Headquarters at 7 pm tonight, you along with the other Captains will be briefed on why we are holding this meeting during this time, understood?" Your father said.

"Yessir, I will see you then Dad." You had disconnected and began to make your way back to Camp 14.

Later that evening, around the time you were eating dinner, your brother had decided to show his face. His name was Charles, but everyone called him Charlie. (If you don't have a brother, bear with me, and if you don't have a brother named Charlie, continue to bear with me.)

"(Y/N), long time no see." You brother walked into your camp, a smile on his face.

"I saw you a week ago, not necessarily a long time, dontcha think?" You snapped, continuing to ignore him and eat your dinner.

"Stop being so harsh, just because I put that garter snake in your bed last week doesn't mean you can't talk to me! I said I was sorry! Besides, living animals that aren't infected these days are rare, you should consider yourself lucky." He pouted, sitting down next to you on the bench.

"Charlie do you know how embarrassed I was! I screamed so damn loud Dad heard it, and he never hears jack shit!" You sighed, your cheeks becoming rosy in color.

"What? You just showed some emotion, that was all! Nothing to worry about, so can we be cool or what?" He laughed, sliding right next to you.

You produced a soft smile, looking up at him. "Yeah, we can be cool."

"Great! Because I have to talk to you about something, about that meeting tonight at 7." Charlie said.

"Why , did you hear something about it?" You asked, intently listening.

"I overheard Dad taking to the other Commanders, about these two new guys."

"So? People come in here all the time, what is so special that we have to have a meeting about them? We gonna throw them a celebration for living? Hah! They should just wake up." You scoffed, finishing your supper.

"No, these guys, the Winchesters or whatever are supposed to be incredibly skilled hunters, or that's what they called them." Charlie replied, looking down at you.

"Hunters? The hell? I never heard of that term before, well relating to our situation." You scrunched up your eyebrows in thought.

"Right! Hunters. Dad didn't say much on the term "hunter" but they are more than capable to handle the weapons and are skilled in combat. Maybe they are like specialists?" Charlie gave a theory.

"A specialist in hunting Croats? Doubt it, since there isn't much to killing them, just more of preventing the spread of them. The Winchesters you say?"

"Yeah."

"Huh, didn't Dad know some Winchester years and years ago?"

"You mean John? Yeah, he stopped by a few times a year didn't he, and take Dad for a few days." Charlie replied, reminiscing about the past.

"Yeah, John, think they are related?" You asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Nah, whats the chance they are, slim to none."

"Wanna bet?" You grinned, holding our your hand.

"Your on, your breakfast that they aren't." Charlie smirked, shaking your hand.

"I bet you your dinner and your desert that they are."

"Deal."

"Wanna take the long way to go to Headquarters?" He asked, standing up.

You checked your watch, figuring that the long way around the city would take just enough time to reach the destination.

"Yeah why not?" You smiled, walking as you and your brother took your leave from Camp 14.

"Captains, I have gathered you all here today to bring forth some news. Whether it is good or not, is your call." General Mayhan spoke, looking at each one of you in the eye. The Commanders stood behind him, also observing the meeting. "There are a new type of people about to enter The Outlier, they are called hunters."

There were whispers among the Captains, having similar conversations as you and Charlie did earlier.

"As of now, there are only two of these hunters, but they are more experienced in not only Croatoans and the Apocalypse, but also in the other things that go bump in the night, and there are plenty. They have been brought here, well traveled here actually, and they will not only seek refuge within the walls, but become an active part within our military. I present the Winchester brothers, Sam and Dean." General Mayhan stepped off to the side as two rugged men came to center stage.

They were both tall, one more than other. Flannels, leather, and layers seemed to be their outfits of choice. Obviously they were fit, you guessed they were equally intelligent as well. The shorter one scanned the crowd of Captains, hesitating on the female ones. The taller one just cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Uhh, I'm Sam Winchester, this is my older brother, Dean." The man greeted, kicking his brother when he didn't respond.

"Oh, uh, yeah, I'm Dean. We are what you call hunters. Basically we hunt, track, and kill anything supernatural or that goes killing people without a normal human explanation. Things such as werewolves, ghosts, vampires, demons, gods. The list goes on, we can kill it." Dean told the crowd.

"Ghosts? Vampires? Seriously bud? Are we supposed to believe this shit your spewing?" A cocky Captain retorted, not buying into the speech.

"Well, next time you wake up and find half your soldiers dead from unnatural causes that even the Croatoan experts can't explain, don't come whining to us that you no longer have a team." Sam sassed back. "I know it seems unlikely and not the most believable argument, but our skills can also be used her. We have been dealing with the Apocalypse since day one, we were there when it started." Sam gulped, not wanting to share the full story.

"Our father, John Winchester, was a good friend of Commander (L/N)'s. This is how we got into The Outlier and are now becoming, kinda parts of your military thingy. He was a hunter too, died a while back, but still has connections to this day." Dean added.

You nudged your brother with a stupid grin on your face, your brother admitting defeat. Your father had also noticed this, smiling as well.

"Sam and Dean will be assigned to Squadrons 13 and 14 since they used to know the Captains when they were much younger. Although this is where the pair will be most likely, they are not limited to only these Squadrons. They know even more tips and tricks that we have acquired, so allow them to teach you all they know. Captains and Commander (L/N). I leave you three here along with the Winchesters to catch up. Everyone else, have a good night, routine schedule tomorrow." The General and his Commanders exited the room, as the Captains followed suit.

"(Y/N), Charlie, I don't suppose you remember these two, Sam and Dean." Your father asked, walking over to you.

"No, I remember John, but not these two." You replied, eyeing the brothers.

"I figured." He sighed. "Your mother often whisked you away so you wouldn't be exposed to alternative line of work."

"Alternative?" Charlie asked.

"Yes, I was an on and off hunter, only traveling to hunt in areas close by, but only your mother knew." I had wanted to keep it a secret from you, but until the Croatoan attacks, I knew it wouldn't be long before you found out." Your father explained.

"Dad, you were a hunter?" You asked, needed solidification on that fact.

"Yes I was, (Y/N), I often hunted with their father, John. The boys only ever came over a few times, and never for long."

"Didn't you have a dog?" Sam asked out of nowhere, looking at you. "Wasn't she a brown lab?"

"D-dad, you didn't tell him about Mudpie, did you?" Charlie asked, surprised.

Your father laughed heartedly. "I almost forgot about that lab, ah yes we did, a good dog she was."

"(Y/N) and Charlie right?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, that's out names, were are Captains."

"Yeah, I got that part from the meeting. Small world huh?" He chuckled.

The conversation was small, the words were tense, the feelings were uneasy. The whole meeting was the definition of awkward.

"Charlie, (Y/N), you two should show them your camps and where they will be sleeping in them, it's late. The four of you ought to get some rest for tomorrow. Goodnight." Your father waved as he exited the room.

"Alright, Dean you will stay in my camp, Sam you can go with Charlie. Unless you want to stick together or whatever." You said, more or less annoyed that you would be bringing in a rookie to camp.

"Well what works for you?" Sam asked.

"One amateur would be enough, so split up for now and we will see what you got in the morning." You answered, harsher then needed.

"Watch out for yourself Dean, she seems..."

"Feisty I know, that's just how I like em." He chuckled, Sam just shook his head.

And with the entry of these two hunters into The Outlier, your life would forever change.

#supernatural #x reader #samwinchester #deanwinchester #winchester

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