lord superior

anonymous asked:

In regards to an abortion...Numbers 5:11-31, Hosea 9:14-16, 2 Samuel 12:14-18...

The verses cited in Numbers regard making a woman infertile and barren, not killing an unborn child. (the same with Hosea 9:14)

The other two are acts of God, who, unlike mere men, is the ultimate judge and therefore just in all his decisions. We cannot make those same choices. After all, God also wiped out nearly the whole human race except Noah’s family because he found them to be wicked. That doesn’t make it righteous or just for us to commit genocide. We can’t make ultimate judgements like that–only the Lord.

In both deaths, (a) the act is fully referred to as a murder or death, thereby supporting the fact that there was indeed a full, fruitful life to be ended, and (b) both were the direct consequence of sinner’s actions. David’s child was born dead because he murdered Uriel in cold-blood to try and cover up his own mistakes; the childlessness of Israel came about from their constant betrayal of God to paganism.

@patron-saint-of-smart-asses @captainvatican feel like adding anything?

Books you need to read right now so some books, like Percy Jackson or Raven Boys have big happy fandoms and thats GREAT but here are some books I feel are just as good but never seem to have gotten the love they should

The Half Bad Trilogy (Half Bad, Half Wild, Half Lost) Bisexual main character, epic gay love story, Harry Potter by way of Raven Boys, go read them, cry.

Young Wizards (So You Want to Be a WizardDeep Wizardry, High Wizardry,  A Wizard AbroadThe Wizard’s Dilemma, A Wizard Alone) before there are a Harry Potter there was Nita and Kit, hispanic main character, a gay couple (in the 1980s no less!) magic by way of Star Trek

The Old Kingdom (SabrielLiraelAbhorsen) do you want Lord of the Rings with a bad-ass woman lead? and way more magic? okay go read this, maybe the richest fantasy world ever written

The Dark Is Rising (Over Sea, Under StoneThe Dark Is RisingGreenwitchThe Grey King, Sliver on the Tree) the classic of classics, one part Narnia, one part Lord of the Rings, and one part Harry Potter, weird and otherworldly 

Bartimaeus Sequence (The Amulet of SamarkandThe Golem’s EyePtolemy’s Gate) Steampunk magic, grubby Victorian London with demons and snobbish wizards and one sassy djinni

The Keys to the Kingdom (Mister MondayGrim TuesdayDrowned WednesdaySir ThursdayLady FridaySuperior SaturdayLord Sunday) steampunk clockwork weirdness, really I can’t think of a book to compare these too, a well realized and original world with lovable characters 

PC Peter Grant (Rivers of LondonMoon Over SohoWhispers Under GroundBroken HomesFoxglove Summer) With a mixed race main character and black goddesses it’s a diverse cast, Harry Potter as an all grown up police book, very smart and well written 

so go read them, now, come on what you waiting for? well I’ll be waiting, let me know if you do read any of them? 

I cannot get over this hadith 😍

Narrated Abu Huraira:

Allah’s Messenger (ﷺ) (p.b.u.h) said, “Our Lord, the Blessed, the Superior, comes every night down on the nearest Heaven to us when the last third of the night remains, saying: “Is there anyone to invoke Me, so that I may respond to invocation? Is there anyone to ask Me, so that I may grant him his request? Is there anyone seeking My forgiveness, so that I may forgive him?”

(Bukhari 1145)

The state of Marvel right now

I don’t even hate things like Secret Empire, and I’m actually kind of looking forward to the Ben Reilly book, but overall it’s just so depressing.

A parallel between Arya and Jon that I really like is how men of the Night’s Watch contribute to their characters’ growth, in roughly the same situations where the siblings struggle in their new environment. It happens to Jon in his third chapter of the first novel, and to Arya in her first chapter of the second novel.

Donal Noye explains to Jon - in very harsh words - that he’s been unfair to his fellow recruits of the Night’s Watch, by beating them violently in the yard.

They’re not my brothers,” Jon snapped. “They hate me because I’m better than they are.

No. They hate you because you act like you’re better than they are. They look at you and see a castle-bred bastard who thinks he’s a lordling.” The armorer leaned close. “You’re no lordling. Remember that. You’re a Snow, not a Stark. You’re a bastard and a bully.

A bully?” Jon almost choked on the word. The accusation was so unjust it took his breath away. “They were the ones who came after me. Four of them.

Four that you’ve humiliated in the yard. Four who are probably afraid of you. I’ve watched you fight. It’s not training with you. Put a good edge on your sword, and they’d be dead meat; you know it, I know it, they know it. You leave them nothing. You shame them. Does that make you proud?

 Jon’s been really inconsiderate towards other young men and smug about his superior skills, and it took Donal Noye to make him realise that he has been privileged in life, as far as sword-training is concerned. Jon has been trained by a master-at-arms since he was a little boy, while the majority of the other new comers to the Wall never had the opportunity to hold a sword in their lifes.

Donal Noye leaned forward, into Jon’s face. “Now think on this, boy. None of these others have ever had a master-at-arms until Ser Alliser. Their fathers were farmers and wagonmen and poachers, smiths and miners and oars on a trading galley. What they know of fighting they learned between decks, in the alleys of Oldtown and Lannisport, in wayside brothels and taverns on the kingsroad. They may have clacked a few sticks together before they came here, but I promise you, not one in twenty was ever rich enough to own a real sword.” His look was grim. “So how do you like the taste of your victories now, Lord Snow?

 Above Jon’s superior fighting skills, his violence was in part driven by his resentment and disillusionment with the Night’s Watch. Donal’s words are what make Jon think about the situation he is in, change his behavior, develop friendships with his brothers of the Night’s Watch, and ultimately, grow as a character.

 In Arya’s case, Yoren is the one who gives her a similar lesson when they are travelling up the King’s Road. Hot Pie and Lommy, the orphan boys, were mocking and verbally bullying Arya, but her reaction was really excessive - she beat Hot Pie so violently that Yoren had to drag her off him.

Hot Pie was on his knees, his fist closing around a big jagged rock. She let him throw it, ducking her head as it sailed past. Then she flew at him. He raised a hand and she hit it, and then his cheek, and then his knee. He grabbed for her, and she danced aside and bounced the wood off the back of his head. He fell down and got up and stumbled after her, his red face all smeared with dirt and blood. Arya slid into a water dancer’s stance and waited. When he came close enough, she lunged, right between his legs, so hard that if her wooden sword had had a point it would have come out between his butt cheeks. 

By the time Yoren pulled her off him, Hot Pie was sprawled out on the ground with his breeches brown and smelly, crying as Arya whapped him over and over and over. “Enough,” the black brother roared, prying the stick sword from her fingers, “you want to kill the fool?

Arya’s and Jon’s responses, when Donal and Yoren mention the new recruits of the Night’s Watch, is exactly the same too.

They’re not my brothers, Arya thought.

They’re not my brothers,” Jon snapped.

 Arya’s brutal reaction was not the result of Hot Pie and Lommy calling her names, but rather of the anger she felt because of her father’s death. She internalized the violence she witnessed - directly or indirecty - in King’s Landing, and unconsciously chose an innocent person on whom to relieve her pain, and Yoren made her realize that.

He spat. “That pie boy’s hurting worse. It wasn’t him as killed your father, girl, nor that thieving Lommy neither. Hitting them won’t bring him back.

I know,“ Arya muttered sullenly.

 Just as with Jon, Yoren’s lesson helps Arya to adapt to her new - albeit one that would be short-lived - world, and her character to grow. Following it, Arya develops friendships with both Hot Pie and Lommie (a friendship that would land Lommie’s killer on her list, and to his death in Winds of Winter).

 Jon and Arya had similar reactions and violently rejected their new environments at first, and both were helped by Donal Noye and Yoren respectively, to better adapt to them.

anonymous asked:

"you're family." with damian and jason please !

I cheated the prompt again.

“He’s coming around.”

“That much is obvious.”

“You know what Damian—“

“Woah, okay. Tim, you come with me and we’ll find Bruce. He’ll want to talk to Jason now that he’s awake.”

There was the sound of a door closing, and Jason swam back toward consciousness, blinking bleary eyes. “Wha happ’nd?” he directed the question at the blurry shape that was probably a person next to him.

“Tt. You managed to get yourself injured on patrol.”

So the shape was Damian, but what was he doing here? He hated being around injured people more than absolutely necessary. He even fled when Dick was hurt, and the kid would do anything for Dick.

“Why’re you here?”

Damian crossed his arms. “As I am the one who found you, I am ensuring that you don’t ruin my work by running off.”

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2

Requested by @fabulouspotatosister


“We did it!”

Sometimes the Doctor was just a little bit too cheery. Although, in this case, he was perfectly justified. You did just escape death-by-exploding-TARDIS, after all, and that was worth being cheerful for.

“Yeah,” you breathed, slumped against the control console. Man, that was a close one. That could have been bad. Very bad. Death-bad. “We did.”

What you had done, you weren’t sure, but the Doctor had told you to do it and the mauve alarm had stopped flashing and that shrill whistle was finally silent and the TARDIS wasn’t rocking back and forth anymore, so you could only assume that it had worked. And that you weren’t going to die, which was good.

The Doctor was at your side out of nowhere. “You okay?”

“Fine,” you assured him, but he didn’t seem convinced.

“C'mere,” he murmured, pulling you into a hug. “Shh, easy. It’s okay.”

“I just said I’m fine,” you muttered, but who were you to resist a hug from the Doctor? You gripped the fabric of his suit, not wanting to pull away. Every hug from the Doctor was something you treasured. If you were smart, you wouldn’t torture yourself with all this closeness, all this touching that would have been, from any human, rather suggestive of… something. Anything. Any possibility of a thing that was vaguely more-than-friendly-like. But no, of course this was not so with the Doctor. He couldn’t just-

Oh, who were you kidding? The Doctor was a romantic; he just wasn’t a romantic with you.

And just so, you thought. He was, as some might put it, “way out of your league.” And you knew it. So you wouldn’t sulk like a little girl. No. You would sulk like a grown woman, staying up ‘til the crack of dawn with your favorite food and a good movie and some stolen hugs from the Doctor.

“If you say so,” the Doctor finally conceded. “How about we stay in tonight, huh? I think that was more than enough near-death experience for one evening.”

“Definitely,” you agreed. Well, it was time for a shower. Or a bath. And a nap. That had been an exhausting experience. Or, well, if you were going to make this an indulge-myself-because-I-nearly-died therapy session, why not take a nap in a bath? The TARDIS would keep the water fresh and warm and it wasn’t like anyone was going to care if you got pruny. Oh, yes. This was a good idea. There was only one obstacle between you and a therapy bath that potentially could include bubbles.

The Doctor wasn’t letting go.

“Mm… Doctor?”

“Oh!” The Doctor took a few steps back from you, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry.”

“No problem,” you said, and in a desperate attempt to make sure he hadn’t gotten the wrong idea, you said, “I like hugs.”

Well, dumber things had been said by you before, but the Doctor was either oblivious or was kindly ignoring the blurb of awkward that had just slipped out of your mouth.

“Um… well, y'see, the thing is…” The Doctor was doing that eye thing, where he would look at you a bit sideways and squint. It always made him look a bit guilty, although the expression was actually a sign of anxiousness, you were discovering. He scratched the back of his neck, another anxious habit, and you were immediately on alert. "You’re brilliant, you know that?“

"You might have mentioned it once or twice.” He had. It was like his catchphrase. Save the Earth? You’re brilliant! Talk to aliens without being weirded out? You’re brilliant! Give him a banana? You’re brilliant! But then again, you tried not to take anything the Doctor said too seriously. He had once been in the habit of calling you foolish girl and stupid ape, so you knew his words, even the complimentary ones, were to be taken with a grain of salt.

“No, I mean, really brilliant,” the Doctor insisted. “I mean, we do this stuff, all the time, nearly dying, and sometimes you lose your cool but you never give up. And regeneration! You stuck through regeneration and just accepted that I’m still me even though I’m nothing like old me was, and nobody does that!”

Ah. The Regeneration Incident. That had been a lot of fun. You wondered if this was finally the day when you would look back on that event and laugh off how traumatizing it had been for everyone involved, but the Doctor didn’t look to be in the laughing mood. And, he wasn’t done.

The Doctor was swaying back and forth on his feet, scuffing his trainers and running his hands through his hair. You leaned back a little bit, confused. He should be relaxed, not stressed out. You had just successfully survived. What was his problem?

“Do you know that I watch you?”

… Well. That was a new one. “Um…”

“I do,” he said, working his jaw. “I watch you. I know humans get a bit freaked out by that, but it’s a Gallifreyan thing. We watch time, we watch the universe, we watch… important things. I watch you 'cause I can’t not watch you. Because you’re in my brain, all the time. I’m afraid of lettin’ my gob run without checking it, because I know that if I’m not careful, I’m gonna mention you every other sentence. That’s mad!” He wildly threw his arms up in the air to emphasize his point, but you thought the way his hair was defying gravity was probably a better illustration. Wait, no, it was time to be serious. The Doctor was being serious. Leave the hair alone. Do not fantasize about ruffling. “That’s absolutely insane! Loco, bonkers, off my rocker! My big, superior, Time Lord brain, and all I can think about is…”

There were a lot of directions this could be going in, but you had half an idea that it was going somewhere emotionally dangerous. “Is..?”

The Doctor stepped close to you, so close that you thought that he was going for another hug, but his hands -his manly, hairy hands that he was so proud of- reached up to cup your face. He leaned down so that his forehead nearly bumped yours.

“You fill my head,” he said in a hushed, reverent tone, and you noted that his breath smelled like banana and cinnamon. That was, of course, before you realized exactly what it was that he said. 'You fill my head.’ Your heart stuttered at the implication. "I hate going on adventures without you. I want to show you everything, I want to know what you think; I want to have you be with me, always. Forever. Because you were my best mate, and you still are, but you’re so much more than that and you’re amazing and brilliant and if I ever lose you I don’t think I’ll… and I just… I want… Please.“

"I…” What were you supposed to say? I love you? No, you couldn’t say that! No, no, no-no-no. Your mind went to Red Alert when you realized that the Doctor was waiting for some sort of response and you were so without a proper answer that you were learning the true meaning of the phrase 'tongue like lead.’

Wait, what was he doing? He was pulling away!

You looked, and the disappointment and hurt in his eyes was like a punch in the gut.

“It’s alright,” he said with a weak, thin smile that lied, lied, lied, filthy lying liar who lies. “I didn’t expect you to feel the same-”

It was only two seconds. Maybe just one. But in those two-seconds-maybe-one, your experienced what the Doctor might have identified as some sort of Time Sense. You saw your life, from this point on, without the Doctor. It wasn’t half bad. In fact, it was quite pleasant. You were married, successful in a career that you enjoyed, and surrounded by friends you would gain over the years. But then you imagined life with the Doctor. It was wild, and a bit scary, and there were certainly no mortgages or commuting to work. But you had a key to the TARDIS, and the Doctor looked at you like you held the universe, and there were no boundaries. No walls or fences. And you were so, so happy. With him.

And that only took a second or two. He had dropped his hands from your face and was pulling away, but oh no. That was not gonna happen, not if you had anything to say about it.

You reached out, grabbed the straying Doctor by the collar of his coat (the tie had been tempting but not within reach), and yanked him back to you. Forget whether or not it was in your nature, forget whether or not you were the sort to make life-changing decisions in a split-second, and please, forget caution! Throw it to the wind! Because you were not letting him get away. Not this time, and not because you were too silent to tell him-

“I love you.”

Your imagination realized that it made an error in its prediction of the future and corrected this mistake by adding kissing to the 'stay and love the Doctor forever’ scenario. Lots and lots of kissing. Because the Doctor was good, which was saying something, considering that he was practically attacking your mouth with his mouth. Points for the noises, though. He was whimpering, and you were quite sure that it was the most adorable, desperate sound you had ever heard.

“You mean it?” he panted into your mouth when your mouths finally broke contact, sounding far too close to heartbroken. “Really?”

“I do,” you answered, your bottom lip brushing against his. “More than anything.”

He would say it back to you later. You knew he would. In the meantime, he was going to enthusiastically teach you about all the different types of kisses in the universe. There was, apparently, a whole book about that particular subject. And he had been reading a lot lately.

ain’t no sunshine

for @timepetalsprompts ‘bed sharing’ trope. originally had a cracky interlude with donna, but sort of got too long (it still exists somewhere, though). fluff. and a little bit of crack and angst. ten x rose reunion fic.

AO3

He came around slowly; blinked a couple of times and attempted to focus on the mild haze of peachy and yellowish pinks in front of him. His head throbbed dully and persistently, inducing the vague feeling of nausea, which ricocheted upwards to his dizzy head. Feeling inexplicably warm and fuzzy, he let his eyes fall closed. When he opened his mouth, what escaped was a somewhat throaty sigh.

Instantaneously, a voice came drifting.

“Doctor?”

(Oh, what a nice voice. What a nice voice.)

“Donna, d’you know.” He slurred, tongue stiff and clammy in his mouth, “You sound JUS’ like Rose.”

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anonymous asked:

why do you love the bhalla so much ? he is so evil and disgusting

He is evil and creepy (definitely not disgusting)

Also, to answer your question, his character is pretty intriguing for me. Like he is all soft spoken, so deceiving with his sweet words that’s said out loud only when its needed to be heard and I’m so certain there are a million other things that runs through his head at the same time. When people have plan A or plan B, Bhalla surely has another 15 plans in his head. And that kind of mind is what makes me love him as a character, makes me want to understand every shade of him. Also, he is definitely devoted to the cause of his kingdom in the start and turns his back on it only when the people forsake him for his popular brother.  When he plays by rules, his mother comes up with new laws at her own whims. Now that kind of attitude from a person of authority above you will cause discontent in anyone, please… Discontent and frustration cause everyone obviously preferred his brother over him! I feel like if he had been given the proper chance, he might have turned out a little better and undoubtedly he would have been the most powerful character of them all (he still technically is to certain degrees, he outwitted most of them)

I think the next big fandom on Tumblr should be the Keys to the Kingdom by Garth Nix

Why?

  1. Nerdy main character with a disability.
  2. Set in the not-distant future so has a touch of cool sci-fi
  3. Also set in a magical alter dimension with science-like magic.
  4. Bad-ass realistic female characters, both on the ‘good’ side and the 'bad’ side
  5. Magical alter dimension adopted the fashion of Victorian london.
  6. Has everything from robots to pirates and winged creatures everwhere
  7. While being (Obviously but not officially) religious based and has a 'great creator’, said creator is often defied, questioned, and portrayed as sort of prideful and snobbish. (Also female.)
  8. One of the books has a whale 100 miles long, what’s not sweet about that?
  9. Despite the 2 main side characters being female while the main character is male, there is never any mention of romance, romantic feelings, or love of a non-platonic fashion.
  10. Realistic depictions of what a person would go through when traumatized physically. 

All in all people should read these books and I’m upset more people haven’t!

Prophet Muhammad (ﷺ) said,

“When it is the last third of the night, our Lord, the Blessed, the Superior, descends every night to the heaven of the world and says, ‘Is there anyone who invokes Me (demand anything from Me), that I may respond to his invocation; Is there anyone who asks Me for something that I may give (it to) him; Is there anyone who asks My forgiveness that I may forgive him?’ ”

- Sahih al-Bukhari 6321

Bring Me Back, Part Three: Don't Look Down

WARNINGS: Nothing that wasn’t in the previous parts.

Written for @breathingstops because I can’t resist a reader who buzzes.

(Hey, kids, find the “Firefly” reference!)


“They are released at the front and told to go home - this is all they know. But to get there they must fly over war. Can you imagine such a thing? Here you are flying over so much pain and terror - and you know you can never look down. You have to look forward or you’ll never get home. I ask you - what could be braver than that?”

There were days when Jack Harkness missed being a coward. He missed those days before you said to him: “Jack, if you wanna be better than this, then take my hand right now.” And then you saved him, and as much as Jack missed being a coward with zilch responsibilities, he couldn’t really imagine going back to the way he was before you took his hand and told him to run. He told you that, once. For some reason, you seemed to think it was hilarious.

So, when he realized he was going to have to dive into the fray of Cybermen, he thought of the day he took your hand, and he did not regret it. He thought of the Doctor, blood-stained and wasting away, and he did not question his motivations. He thought of what he was before and what he had become, and it did not occur to him to turn back. He was going to save you, and that was that.

The journey wasn’t pleasant. Vortex Manipulators were nasty little buggers, no matter how high-tech they got. But Jack, unlike the Doctor, never went to the wrong time and place (well, almost never), and he was relying on that to get him to you. And get to you, he did.

At first, all Jack saw was blood - but then he realized what he was looking at. Upgrading was messy business, and there were bits and pieces of… people… everywhere. What was left of them, anyway. Jack had seen worse, but the smell of electricity burning flesh made his gut lurch, and he tasted bile at the back of his throat. There were Cybermen everywhere, but they were going about there business and not paying much attention to their surroundings. They obviously weren’t worried about anyone escaping, which probably meant that the building was under some sort of lockdown, which also probably meant that you were still in here. You couldn’t have been upgraded yet, Jack knew, because he had timed his landing for just seconds after you were taken, but fear cut through him so forcefully-

He screamed your name.

Fear of death was something you had learned to let go of. It’s not the sort of thing you can hold onto, not if you want to keep running with the Doctor. But fear of death and fear of dying are two very different things, and fear of dying a terrible, agonizing death that would turn you into what was basically a mechanical zombie? Yeah, not an unreasonable fear in your current situation.

You had sort of forgotten that Cybermen could be really stupid. They had drugged you (which, ow, still really hurt, because there was a puncture wound on the back of your neck that throbbed), and then they just… forgot about you? They had dumped you next to an upgrading facility. Apparently, there was a waiting list, and thank goodness for that, because otherwise you would have been upgraded in your sleep.

It was probably the smell of burning flesh that woke you up. There weren’t anymore screams, thank God, although you could only assume that meant that everybody was so far into the upgrading process that they had just stopped screaming. Which, unfortunately, meant that there was no saving them. And as unfortunate as that was, you felt a sense of relief, because that meant that there was no one left for you to save, meaning that there was no reason for you to attempt any thrilling heroics. You could run away, and run away was what you did.

You ran back to where you were sure the Doctor had parked the TARDIS. You felt that giddy sense of freedom and the feeling you got every time you managed to surprise your ‘superior’ Time Lord. Nearly dying was awful, but the look on the Doctor’s face was always worth having to pull the hey-look-I-survived-another-near-death-experience card. You were ready, so ready, to jump into the TARDIS and surprise him, or wait for him if he didn’t get back first.

But the TARDIS wasn’t there.

You gaped at the empty space for a moment, uncomprehending, before you realized.

He left.

But, no. It was even worse than that, because of course the Doctor left. This whole building was set to blow if the Cybermen weren’t eradicated, and it was too late for that, so obviously he left. There was nothing here for him to be heroic for. The people were dead or dying and the Cybermen weren’t a threat as long as they stayed inside, which they had to do, because there was no way out. If the Doctor hadn’t left, that would have been stupid. But it was worse than all of that.

He left me.

You couldn’t believe it. You had seen the look in his eyes. The despair. Both of you had been so sure in that moment that you were past the point of no return, but- but- but you weren’t! You were here! You made it! You survived, you lived, you pulled the survival-beyond-expectations act like the Doctor did all the time, but where was he? Why hadn’t he waited? You would have! You would have waited until the last possible second to escape. You would have waited.

He left me.

The throbbing pain in your neck had bloomed into a nigh-unbearable ache that pulsed through your whole body, knocking painfully against the suddenly heavy weight of the TARDIS key resting between your breasts. Blood oozed from the cuts on your hands and dripped from your trembling fingertips. Your knees shook as you panted in panic. You were alone. The Doctor had never left you alone before, not like this, and- 

The building was under lockdown. It was full of Cybermen. It was set to blow sky-high.

You were going to die here.

You swayed on your feet, body throbbing and heart thundering and throat closing. Your skin crawled as your mind raced to keep up with your emotions. You were on the edge of a panic attack.

And then a hand grabbed yours.

You screeched, jumping sideways to escape, but the hand had a firm enough grip to pull you back, and you found yourself face-to-face with the one and only Captain Cheesecake and his absolutely dazzling, shameless grin.

“Jack?!” you shrieked, relief hitting you like a truck. Your whole body sagged. Jack was here. And if Jack got into this place without the TARDIS, that meant that there was a way out! You were going to live! You were going to get back to the Doctor!

Jack grinned, pulling your body flush against his. You immediately fell into an exaggerated swooning-damsel-in-distress pose that made his grin widen. You laughed.

“Hiya, sweetheart! I say we get outta here.”

gdang i don’t know who got the superior genes out of these two 

sophie has commander hotstuff and babe inquisitor

bryce has the king of good looks and cheese and badass queen

Allah ﷻ says:

وَمِنَ اللَّيلِ فَاسْجُدْ لَهُ وَسَبِّحْهُ لَيْلاً طَوِيلاً
And during the night, prostrate yourself to Him, and glorify Him a long night through.

Narrated in Al Bukhari
Abu Hurayrah رضي الله عنه narrated the Prophet ﷺ said “Our Lord, the Blessed, the Superior, comes every night down on the nearest Heaven to us when the last third of the night remains, saying: “Is there anyone to invoke Me, so that I may respond to invocation? Is there anyone to ask Me, so that I may grant him his request? Is there anyone seeking My forgiveness, so that I may forgive him?”

Wallahi!
If you are seeking provision in the Dunya, as long as it is not contradicting your Deen…
Make Sujood to Allah in Tahajjud!
Make Sujood with sincerity in the dark hours of the night, where nobody except Al Baseer and As Samee’ and Al ‘Aleem can see you!

Requested by @bloodofthepen

*Also, the Doctor makes a less than complimentary comment about France. It was meant to be a sort of foreshadowing reference to “The Girl in the Fireplace” and I mean no offense to actual France.

Part I - Part III - Part IV


The Doctor didn’t like to admit that his great big Time Lord brain forgot things, but the truth was that he forgot a lot of things. It was all still stored in his brain, but he just wasn’t constantly thinking about everything, and the things that he didn’t think about got shoved to the back of the storage closet of his mind.

Which was kind of a pain, because the closet was a mess and he couldn’t sort through it all.

It was time to dust off some of the old memories, as well as a few books, and renew his mind on the subject of courting. Because, honestly, he hadn’t thought about that in a long time. When he was the Fifth, he had been rather charmed by one of his companions, but to think that it would actually lead anywhere hadn’t occurred to him, so he hadn’t bothered with any thought of courting. With you, though, it was different. He wasn’t going to let you slip away because he couldn’t take action.

The issue was that he didn’t know how to take action. This body was better with actions than words (although he wasn’t half bad with words, when he really got his head around a concept), but he didn’t have a clue as to how to… well, romance you. He knew how to flirt, sure, but he didn’t want to flirt with you. He wanted you to love him, not think he was some dumb ape just thinking below the waist, no different from any human bloke. Flirting might be fun, but this was serious, and therefore, he had to go about things the serious way.

Lucky for him, nothing was more serious than a Gallifreyan.

He had done his best, so far. Some of it had been instinctual, like the touching, and the staring (he was still waiting for you to rat him out for that), and some things had been brilliant, like taking you to his yet-unnamed planet (he was thinking of letting you name it, since you loved it so much). But that had been going on for a while, and while he liked to think that you were noticing his affection, he wasn’t sure. Maybe you were completely clueless. Or, if he was very unlucky, you knew exactly what was going on and you were kindly ignoring it in order to spare him pain. Hopefully not. Either way, it seemed to Nine that he needed to put a little more oomph into the process. Gallifreyan courting, real Gallifreyan courting instead of this moseying-about he had been doing, had plenty of oomph.

Time to find out what he could do.

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