Sesungguhnya orang-orang yang mendatangkan cobaan1 kepada orang-orang yang mukmin laki-laki dan perempuan kemudian mereka tidak bertobat, maka bagi mereka azab Jahanam dan bagi mereka azab (neraka) yang membakar.
Quienes sometan a los creyentes y a las creyentes a una prueba y no se arrepientan luego, tendrán el castigo de la gehena, el castigo de su fuego.
It mattered little what might become of himself. If he could drink himself out of the world, it might be an end of things that would be not altogether undesirable.
I followed you last night ~But in your feverish rush ~You didn’t even notice ~The taxi that kept paceWith yours ~
I’ve known for some time now ~That all those late nightBusiness meetings you justHad to be there for ~ wereNo such thing ~
And when I saw you use yourLatchkey on her door ~ I knewThat I had lost ~ and I wept asI watched her throw herselfInto your arms ~
I wonder if she knows about…
‘Her experience of being trained almost from birth as an assassin leaves her less than fully able to acknowledge her own capacity for good. Not for doing good. But for being good. He knows all of his partners, sometimes better than he knows himself. He knows, for instance, that if Dick—Nightwing—had disobeyed his order to come back to the ship, it would have been because of his need to be useful—and because of his unabating desire to demonstrate his filial loyalty. He knows that if—Tim—Robin—had come back, it would have been because of his empathy, his inability to leave someone else in harm's way. Jason, the one he lost—he was headstrong and disregarded orders as a matter of rebellious individuation. Batman doesn't want to lose another one, which is why he wishes he didn't so well understand what brings this one back.’
Then I felt the Fool’s touch on my back. If Dutiful’s hands had been cold to my fevered skin, then the Fool’s fingers were as icicles. Their jabbing ice probed me. All eternity paused in anticipation of that dreaded, desired touch.
its only half-dizzied with pain, every wall and every pretense dropped, that his awareness of his desire for the fool surfaces..........oh fitz
“Then I shall take my leave of you and prove you wrong.”
“A story.”
“What?”
“Let’s make a second wager. I’ll tell you a story, and if it doesn’t move you, I’ll know I was wrong to accuse you of loneliness. Then I’ll make my amends if you’ll have them, or see you off into the night if you won’t.”
“How is that possibly related?”
“It’s a story about love. It’ll break the heart of any lonely man.”
“I have heard many love stories before.”
“Not this one,” said Hob, “Not this one, you haven’t. It’s never been told.”
“And if I have heard it before? What then, for your wasting of my time? For your insolence?”
“You can keep your own counsel on the consequences. You won’t have heard it before.”
“Very well. Tell me this story.”
“Not yet. I haven’t named the stakes if it succeeds in moving you.”
“I presume you will say you have somehow proven your offensive suggestion,” he said. “I do not think it will be a concern.”
“No. I won’t say anything on it. And I’m sorry for upsetting you. I am. I’d name a different prize.”
“What would you have?”
“A question. One question. And you’ll answer it.”
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thank u!! taking confetti quite literally here and sharing the early bare bones dialogue from the start of a Secret WIP that only @moorishflower has ever heard abt! it is set in 1889 and a sort of 1001 Nights meets a Hob who speaks instead of hesitates when he stands up angrily after Dream does; who might say stupid things but isn't a stupid man, who sees how stories are what captivates his stranger, whose frustration at being constantly denied knowledge of his friend has boiled over and caused this fight where he tried to name the knowledge himself, who refuses to lose him, who has lived for five hundred years now and knows how to tell a story, and will use them to bargain now not for his life but for the regard of the stranger he loves.