young woman with a veil

anonymous asked:

Headcannon or drabble on the chocobros seeing a girl that they are like "love at first sight" for, but she speaks a different language and hardly knows any English or whatever language they know? Thanks ❤❤❤

I’m gonna be honest with you anon, that is the CUTEST effin thing I have ever heard! My heart is just WOW. I legit had to hold my heart and stop from crying. o(≧∇≦o)

I’m gonna make you proud! (I hope :P) This went a little longer than I thought it would…that’s why it took so long. ❤❤❤



“An escort mission, seems simple enough.” Ignis stated, holding a piece of paper.

“Iggy’s right Noct, with that money we won’t have to worry about anything from here to Tranbene.” Prompto added, looking into the backseat. “Please it’s on the way, so we can technically kill two birds with one stone.”

“It would add a little excitement to this 2 week bachelor party you wanted to go on.” Gladiolus chuckled.

“If I recall correctly, I didn’t want a party at all.” Noctis groaned.

Now here they all sat in the Regalia, a young woman squeezed between Future King and Shield, a long veil over your face. You never responded to any of the banter, making the car ride rather uncomfortable.

The mission was simple, drive 2 days east, and drop you off to your future husband.  About an hour out of your old city, you shocked the entire car as you uttered your first words.

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In Omo Valley, Ethiopia you have the chance to explore tribes that live like thousands of years ago.

Nudity is something normal and the veil only protects this young woman from the sun. She is part of Arbore Tribe.

The 4G mobile network is already there. Soon they will all have smartphones.

“Mnemosyne” Fiction|Smut

Moodboard by @48gmoodboards

Characters: Matsui Jurina (Mnemosyne), Matsui Rena (Lethe); Kojima Haruna (Persephone); Oshima Yuko (Hades)

Summary: Time moves forward. The mind forgets but the heart remembers. 

Author’s note: This is my take on the Lethe x Mnemosyne prompt suggested by @rukakikuchi. She made Part 1 and I made Part 2 with some tweaks from her. I’m not a hardcore wmatsui shipper like before but they are still very precious. I hope you guys enjoy this. It was an “emotionally draining but totally worth it writing experience”. 

P.S. An anon asked me for a smut so so so long ago, but it is only now that I succumbed to it. You guys, this is my first smut so do forgive me if it falls short. 



Hours pass

The weeks turn into months

And I’m still alone

Wondering when I’ll see you

Still I watch the hourglass

The symbol of our love

When we were so sure

Our love would be everlasting

(The S.O.S. Band - “Sands of Time”)


They cannot kill me even if they wish it with all their heart. They cannot destroy me even if I am the last of the ancient immortals.

I am nostalgia; I am melancholy; I am yearning; I am desire.

I am the forbidden knowledge of the world.

I am Mnemosyne.





Time flows like an endless river reaching the large expanse of the open sea. Without end or beginning. It trickles without pause; without caution—with selfish inevitability. Time heeds no one’s bidding. It grants no one’s request. It only moves forward despite the unquenchable thirst in our hearts to remain as we are or as we once were.

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The young girl approaches the young police officer, turns her (very beautiful) face toward the camera, lifts her veil in a way that obscures the police officer but embraces the camera, and asks in a close-up of beautiful suspension, “Excuse me, officer, what time is it?” Of course, the whole purpose at this point is precisely “time” and its whereabouts, but in more than one sense. The camera freezes on the face of the young girl, the music syncopates, as she repeats again, “Excuse me, officer, what time is it?” […]

The camera stands still. The young woman holds her veil tightly, hugging the camera, as two hands enter the inner sanctity of her face, one offering her a flowerpot (instead of a gun) and the other a piece of bread (instead of a knife, which Makhmalbaf had used in the attempted robbery) - history remade. I remember soon after we saw the film in Locarno, Mohsen told me that the whole film is really a postcard, that he made the film in order to arrive at that concluding image.

This picture (and with it the sequence and the entire film) is a cinematic will to rewrite history, to remake the world, to revise its destiny, modify its verdict. Here Makhmalbaf the rebel is in full control of a cinematic urge to dismantle and dismember the fate of an entire nation. This is a deliberate act of mis-remembering history in order to let it forget itself - for its own good. - Hamid Dabashi

anonymous asked:

The hijab isn't even a fucking part of Islam. That's why I don't support it cause it's not even in the religion. There's literally no where mentioning the head covering it only said be modest, so many scholars have proven wearing a head scarf isn't a part of Islam

women..are supposed to cover up in islam .

Quran (33:59)


“Tell thy wives and thy daughters and the women of the believers to draw their cloaks close round them…”

Quran (24:31) - “And say to the believing women that they cast down their looks and guard their private parts and do not display their ornaments except what appears thereof, and let them wear their head-coverings over their bosoms, and not display their ornaments except to their husbands or their fathers, or the fathers of their husbands, or their sons, or the sons of their husbands, or their brothers, or their brothers’ sons, or their sisters’ sons, or their women, or those whom their right hands possess, or the male servants not having need (of women), or the children who have not attained knowledge of what is hidden of women; and let them not strike their feet so that what they hide of their ornaments may be known.” The woman is not only supposed to cover herself, except with relatives, but to look down, so as to avoid making eye-contact with men.

Quran (33:55) - “It shall be no crime in them as to their fathers, or their sons, or their brothers, or their brothers’ sons, or their sisters’ sons, or their woman, or the slaves which their right hands possess, if they speak to them unveiled” A woman may present herself without a veil only to family and slaves.

Hadith and Sira

Sahih Bukhari (6:321)

- Muhammad is asked whether it is right for a young woman to leave her house without a veil. He replies,

“She should cover herself with the veil of her companion.”

Sahih Bukhari (60:282)

- After Muhammad issued the command (Quran 24:31) for women to cover themselves, the women responded by tearing up sheets to cover their faces.

Abu Dawud (32:4092)


The Apostle of Allah… said: “O Asma’, when a woman reaches the age of menstruation, it does not suit her that she displays her parts of body except this and this, and he pointed to her face and hands”

This was narrated by Aisha.

Abu Dawud (2:641)


The Prophet (peace_be_upon_him) said: Allah does not accept the prayer of a woman who has reached puberty unless she wears a veil.

Sahih Bukhari (52:250)


girl do your hw. hijab isn’t mandatory? lol  where did u get that from? your like those muslims who put up those pathetic arguments that weed isn’t haram 

Shadows among us

Using @dogmatix prompts (it seemed that title ones are my jam). I reaalllyy liked writing this one.

When Anakin was nine, his Master came to Tatooine with his own Apprentice. 

That was true in most universes.

Except in this one, they weren’t Jedi.

« Master, why are we on this dreadful planet ? There is nothing here but Hutts and sand. » drawled Dooku, scowling at said sand as it crunched beneath his booth.
« Patience, my former Apprentice. » said Sidious. « You’ll soon understand. »

They soon arrived in a slave village, one of many on the planet. Nothing usual, for slavery was common in the Empire.
Darth Sidious didn’t slow his pace, ignoring the stares and the whispers with practiced ease, until he reached a small hut.
In front of it stood a woman and a child.

The woman bowed.

« My Lord… » she whispered, her hands clutched in front of her.
« I see you have raised him quite well. » said the Sith, observing the child with a satisfied smile. « You have completed your task. Even if my Master is dead, I’ll fulfill his promise. Shmi Skywalker, you and your son are free. »
He placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder, steering him towards Dooku.
« Lord Tyrannus, meet Anakin Skywalker, my new Apprentice. You’ll teach him when the matters of the Empire will prevent me to do so. »

The Sith Temple was a magnificient place, all in red, black and gold, standing proudly on the highest peak of Korriban, surrounded by thousands of previous Sith’s tombs. The whole planet basked in the purest Dark Side, the Force thrumming through Anakin’s veins as he opened himself to it, letting his emotions run free, freeing him as well.

Coruscant was good, but he disliked politics.
Nothing could compare to Korriban.
He was home.

Dooku and Anakin were standing in front of the Sith Court. The Emperor and Supreme Lord was here, of course, his Master always presiding if he could. 

Darth Maul and Asajj Ventress were sitting in either side of him. Usually, Darth Tyrannus would seat where Ventress was, but today, he was the one sent on a mission.

The Lady Sith smirked at him, and anger filled the room. Sidious smirked.

« I sensed a great disturbance in the Force. » he intoned, and both Sith stopped their glaring contest to listen. « It came from my homeworld, Naboo. While the Dark Side remains as strong as ever, I will not allow this warning to go unchecked. Darth Tyrannus, you will go, and you will take my Apprentice as well. Make sure that there is nothing on that planet that threatens the Empire. »

« Yes, Master. »

Naboo was a beautiful planet and its capital, Theed, was truly one of the Empire’s shiniest jewels. The palace, in traditional black and gold, had a magnificent roof covered in rubies, forming the Sith word for ‘Richness’, the Dark Side pulsing around it.
Some believed that it was imbued with Sith’s magicks and that it was the reason of Naboo’s slave market’s success, for you would never find better (and more expensive) slaves than on those auctions.
Most of them were sold to the clothing companies, for they were especially talented in the making of fine, expensive and impressive robes.

Anakin could see some of that work for himself when they met Queen Amidala. The young woman was absolutely stunning in dark silk and transluscent veils, a crown of grenats and obsidians resting regally on her brow.
She was not like them, but the young Sith could feel her presence in the Force, smooth and soft like velvet, but hiding an iron will.

« Your Majesty. » said Dooku, bowing. « As beautiful as ever. I’ll ask one more time, will you not reconsider your position ? You would make a magnificent Sith. »
« I thank you for your praise, Lord Tyrannus, but I believe my talents are of better use here. After all, if I had not felt the Light Side user, who would have warned the Emperor ? » Amidala answered, confident in her own power, even in front of the Emperor’s right hand.

Dooku immediately frowned.

« Light side user ? » he repeated, alarmed.
« Yes. »

They had tracked the criminal across two planets before ending up on Coruscant to foil, in extremis, his plans to kill a Senator.

The man had way more contacts than he should, and Anakin knew his Master would be looking closely on Alderaan’s loyalties once he was informed of what Tyrannus and him had discovered.

The man was no ordinary Light Side user : he was a Jedi. They were supposed to have been destroyed thousands of years ago and yet, there they were, facing one, two red lightsabers against one blue. The fight was far more difficult than it should have been, especially at two against one, but their opponent, a human male in his fifties, was quick and resourceful.

They ended up in the empty Galactic Court Room, fighting among the empty pods where representants of the Empire’s many planets would normally seat.
A well-placed kick sent Anakin flying down, crashing on the floor.

The Jedi used the distraction to behead Lord Tyrannus.

As the Sith exploded, Anakin screamed in rage, the Dark Side flowing through him. He raised his hand, sending a wave of electricity toward the Jedi, who was caught unaware.
The young Sith jumped at him, his power and his speed enhanced beyond measure by the Dark Side flowing through him.

He cut the Jedi in two and sneered at the body simply… disappeared, without a single trace, not even a wave.
Jedis were weak, even in their deaths.

« You did well, my Apprentice. » said solemnly Sidious. « Rise, Lord Vader, Dark Lord of the Sith. »

There was a lot of important people at the raising of Dooku’s pyramid, when the Sith Master’s holocron was activated inside his funeral chamber. 

Anakin stood near his Master, his arms crossed.

« They all fear the return of the Light Side. Fools. » he sneered. « The Jedi is dead. »
« He is, Lord Vader. » answered his Master, with a cold expression on his face. « But Jedis do not stand alone. When there is one, there is usually another. A Master, and a Padawan. »
« Which one did I kill, then ? » asked Anakin, scowling. « The Padawan ? Or the Master ? »

Near them, the young Stewjon Senator they had saved, Obi-Wan Kenobi, softly smiled.

Accusa segreta (1847-1848). Francesco Hayez (Italian, 1791-1882). Oil on canvas. Musei Civici, Pavia.

A young Venetian woman, in a black veil, crumples her dress, which is satin iridescent green with a generous neckline. She is tormented by a dual feeling of love and hatred of the lover who betrayed her. The pale face, expression contracted and tortured, reveals the inner drama that the woman is experiencing. She has read papers which accuse her lover, at the Court of the Inquisition, of conspiring against La Serenissima.