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megashadowdragon · 3 years

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Love is the bane of honor

I think Aegon's role narratively is "don't put all your faith in perfect kings", especially not a kid. It's all about the pressure of being a hereditary ruler, the pressure of duty, of others' expectations being placed on a child solely due to his birthright, and of a life sacrificed to duty.

"He is here. Aegon has been shaped for rule since before he could walk. He has been trained in arms, as befits a knight to be, but that was not the end of his education. He reads and writes, he speaks several tongues, he has studied history and law and poetry. A septa has instructed him in the mysteries of the Faith since he was old enough to understand them. He has lived with fisherfolk, worked with his hands, swum in rivers and mended nets and learned to wash his own clothes at need. He can fish and cook and bind up a wound, he knows what it is like to be hungry, to be hunted, to be afraid. Tommen has been taught that kingship is his right. Aegon knows that kingship is his duty, that a king must put his people first, and live and rule for them."

What Varys has said is all about Aegon ruling for others. That implies serious self-sacrifice. But is Aegon truly fit for this? Note how Varys never speaks of love, it's all about Aegon being raised to fulfill his duty, and one that has been placed on him based on his supposed birthright by others, which to us readers is uncertain to begin with and could even become uncertain to Aegon himself at some point.

"Jon, did you ever wonder why the men of the Night's Watch take no wives and father no children?" Maester Aemon asked.

Jon shrugged. "No." He scattered more meat. The fingers of his left hand were slimy with blood, and his right throbbed from the weight of the bucket.

"So they will not love," the old man answered, "for love is the bane of honor, the death of duty."

We have here the literal kryptonite to Varys' expectations.

Aegon is still young and we have no indication he has any experience with women other than being raised by a septa, which considering the faith's tenants has served the opposite interest.

Love is sweet, dearest Ned, but it cannot change a man's nature

Arianne, a very intimidating woman, is coming to push herself onto Aegon, yet Aegon's entourage believed the support of Dorne was expected due to their existing blood ties to Aegon, not thanks to a new union between Aegon and a Dornish princess, a union which would also alter Doran's current plans which did not factor in Aegon at all.

A union to Aegon, from Doran's perspective, might also cast uncertainty into the master-strategist's mind; what will Dorne do when the real dragons come? And what if Dany's entourage sends a letter to Dorne along with Quentyn's body, telling them the prince was burned by the dragons he tried to steal? Would Arianne and the Sand Snakes believe it at all, especially if Arianne is trying to put herself between Aegon and Daenerys?

Daenerys on the other hand is preferred by Connington, who says the prince must hold off on any marriage as she may yet come, and he holds no found memories of Elia Martell, which might tarnish his view of Arianne no matter how "healthy" she might appear:

A bride for our bright prince. Jon Connington remembered Prince Rhaegar's wedding all too well. Elia was never worthy of him. She was frail and sickly from the first, and childbirth only left her weaker. After the birth of Princess Rhaenys, her mother had been bedridden for half a year, and Prince Aegon's birth had almost been the death of her. She would bear no more children, the maesters told Prince Rhaegar afterward.

"Daenerys Targaryen may yet come home one day," Connington told the Halfmaester. "Aegon must be free to marry her."

"My lord knows best," said Haldon. "In that case, we might consider offering potential friends a lesser prize."

Pushing lesser prizes onto Dorne is unlikely to be well received, chiefly by Arianne herself.

Connington is trying to shield the prince from doubt:

"I like the sound of that. My army." A smile flashed across his face, then vanished. "Are they, though? They're sellswords. Yollo warned me to trust no one."

"There is wisdom in that," Griff admitted. It might have been different if Blackheart still commanded, but Myles Toyne was four years dead, and Homeless Harry Strickland was a different sort of man. He would not say that to the boy, however. That dwarf had already planted enough doubts in his young head. "Not every man is what he seems, and a prince especially has good cause to be wary … but go too far down that road, and the mistrust can poison you, make you sour and fearful."

Yet Connington is joined by Tyrion's proposal, even if unknowingly, to wait for Daenerys:

"You do not need to win," Tyrion told him. "All you need to do is raise your banners, rally your supporters, and hold, until Daenerys arrives to join her strength to yours."

Tyrion sold the idea to Aegon as follows:

"I told you, I know our little queen. Let her hear that her brother Rhaegar's murdered son is still alive, that this brave boy has raised the dragon standard of her forebears in Westeros once more, that he is fighting a desperate war to avenge his father and reclaim the Iron Throne for House Targaryen, hard-pressed on every side … and she will fly to your side as fast as wind and water can carry her. You are the last of her line, and this Mother of Dragons, this Breaker of Chains, is above all a rescuer. The girl who drowned the slaver cities in blood rather than leave strangers to their chains can scarcely abandon her own brother's son in his hour of peril. And when she reaches Westeros, and meets you for the first time, you will meet as equals, man and woman, not queen and supplicant. How can she help but love you then, I ask you?"

The temptation is that of a mother figure and a rescuer who would fly to him like the wind, her brother's son, a boy becoming a man. Similarly, agreeing to this would place trust in his father-figure's plan. There is reassurance in taking this road, the one of parents he never had.

One way or another, Aegon must chose, at a time when war rages. But there is much room for doubt to keep him undecided, and if word reaches them that Daenerys has hurriedly flown away on her Dragon, could it be that Tyrion and Connington were right? Is the Mother of Dragons flying to the prince as fast as wind can carry her?

Aegon might hear the echo of Tyrion's words:

"Your father knew the dangers of being overbold."

The prince stared at the playing board. "My dragon—"

"—is too far away to save you. You should have moved her to the center of the battle."

Wait, and wait, and wait, but the war does not.

The death of duty

As the pressure mounts on Aegon to either keep on waiting for Daenerys or secure an alliance with Dorne, will Aegon break? And more importantly, if he does, how?

What if this is exactly what happened with Rhaegar? What if Rhaegar buckled under all the pressure that was on him? From prophecies to the duty of kingship.

"Lingering here will never bring it any closer. The sooner we take our leave of this place—"

"I know. I do." Dany did not know how to make him see. She wanted Westeros as much as he did, but first she must heal Meereen. "Ninety days is a long time. Hizdahr may fail. And if he does, the trying buys me time. Time to make alliances, to strengthen my defenses, to—"

"And if he does not fail? What will Your Grace do then?"

"Her duty." The word felt cold upon her tongue. "You saw my brother Rhaegar wed. Tell me, did he wed for love or duty?"

The old knight hesitated. "Princess Elia was a good woman, Your Grace. She was kind and clever, with a gentle heart and a sweet wit. I know the prince was very fond of her."

That answer from Jorah is fairly clear; Rhaegar married Elia out of duty, and maybe a hint of prophecy for all we know. He did not do so out of love.

Remember, Rhaegar thought he was expected to become a warrior. So we have another self-sacrifice for duty's sake:

"As a young boy, the Prince of Dragonstone was bookish to a fault. He was reading so early that men said Queen Rhaella must have swallowed some books and a candle whilst he was in her womb. Rhaegar took no interest in the play of other children. The maesters were awed by his wits, but his father's knights would jest sourly that Baelor the Blessed had been born again. Until one day Prince Rhaegar found something in his scrolls that changed him. No one knows what it might have been, only that the boy suddenly appeared early one morning in the yard as the knights were donning their steel. He walked up to Ser Willem Darry, the master-at-arms, and said, 'I will require sword and armor. It seems I must be a warrior.'"

And there is another hint that Rhaegar may have wanted to move away from the pressure of ruling, although a subtle one that remains to be cleared up:

Prince Rhaegar shook his head. "My royal sire fears your father more than he does our cousin Robert. He wants you close, so Lord Tywin cannot harm him. I dare not take that crutch away from him at such an hour."

Jaime's anger had risen up in his throat. "I am not a crutch. I am a knight of the Kingsguard."

"Then guard the king," Ser Jon Darry snapped at him. "When you donned that cloak, you promised to obey."

Rhaegar had put his hand on Jaime's shoulder. "When this battle's done I mean to call a council. Changes will be made. I meant to do it long ago, but . . . well, it does no good to speak of roads not taken. We shall talk when I return."

But love is the bane of honor, the death of duty:

"Swords win battles," Ser Jorah said bluntly. "And Prince Rhaegar knew how to use one."

"He did, ser, but . . . I have seen a hundred tournaments and more wars than I would wish, and however strong or fast or skilled a knight may be, there are others who can match him. A man will win one tourney, and fall quickly in the next. A slick spot in the grass may mean defeat, or what you ate for supper the night before. A change in the wind may bring the gift of victory." He glanced at Ser Jorah. "Or a lady's favor knotted round an arm."

So I posit that the fear of it all frightened Rhaegar into the arms of Lyanna, who similarly ran from a duty imposed on her in marrying Robert, and as the war began to rage on both escaped away from it all to the Tower of Joy.

Kill the boy and let the man be born

Many wonder what Arys Oakheart's narrative point was. He is a good example of a man who struggled between love and duty.

You know I have no other woman. Only... duty.

Which led him to his death:

Arys, my sweet knight, why did you do it? You should have yielded. I tried to tell you, but the words caught in my mouth. You gallant fool, I never meant for you to die, or for Myrcella...

I believe that as history seems to so often repeat itself in the world of Ice and Fire, Aegon will flee into the arms of love. But whose' love?

Come break of day, they were off again. Elia Sand led the way, her black braid flying behind her as she raced across the dry, cracked plains and up into the hills. The girl was mad for horses, which might be why she often smelled like one, to the despair of her mother. Sometimes Arianne felt sorry for Ellaria. Four girls, and every one of them her father's daughter.

Elia Sand, who bears the name of Aegon's mother, is similar in more ways than one to Lyanna Stark.

"We will see about that." Valena wheeled her big red around and put her heels into him, and the race was on, through the dusty lanes of the village at the bottom of the hill, as chickens and villagers alike scrambled out of their path. Arianne was three horse lengths behind by the time she got her mare up to a gallop, but had closed to one halfway up the slope. The two of them were side-by-side as they thundered towards the gatehouse, but five yards from the gates Elia Sand came flying from the cloud of dust behind them to rush past both of them on her black filly.

"Are you half horse, child?" Valena asked, laughing, in the yard. "Princess, did you bring a stable girl?"

"I'm Elia," the girl announced. "Lady Lance."

Lyanna was also a horse-rider:

Arya was breathing hard herself then. She knew the fight was done. "You ride like a northman, milady," Harwin said when he'd drawn them to a halt. "Your aunt was the same. Lady Lyanna."

And she was literally said to be "half a horse"

Horses … the boy was mad for horses, Lady Dustin will tell you. Not even Lord Rickard's daughter could outrace him, and that one was half a horse herself.

And similarly to Elia, Lyanna could fight:

"Lyanna might have carried a sword, if my lord father had allowed it.

And we have this in Bran's vision:

Now two children danced across the godswood, hooting at one another as they dueled with broken branches. The girl was the older and taller of the two. Arya! Bran thought eagerly, as he watched her leap up onto a rock and cut at the boy. But that couldn't be right. If the girl was Arya, the boy was Bran himself, and he had never worn his hair so long. And Arya never beat me playing swords, the way that girl is beating him. She slashed the boy across his thigh, so hard that his leg went out from under him and he fell into the pool and began to splash and shout.

Elia can joust, and we all know that the Knight of the Laughing Tree is believed by many to have been Lyanna:

"I am almost a woman grown, ser," she responded haughtily. "I'll let you spank me, though... but first you'll need to tilt with me, and knock me off my horse."

"We are on a ship, and without horses," Joss replied.

"And ladies do not joust," insisted Ser Garibald Shells, a far more serious and proper young man than his companion.

"I do. I'm Lady Lance."

Arianne had heard enough. "You may be a lance, but you are no lady. Go below and stay there till we reach land."

Note the point earlier where Elia surprises Arianne by racing ahead of her? It is a very tempting hint that Elia will steal Arianne's place and become Aegon's love interest, one no one is pushing on him. Her playful and courageous nature might attract him, comfort him at a time of incredible pressure, just as Lyanna may have with Rhaegar before.

But Rhaegar in the end found his courage, and went into battle. He killed the boy to let the man be born. And died.

"Can a man still be brave if he's afraid?"

"That is the only time a man can be brave," his father told him.

But the question, what bravery will Aegon be pushed into?

"Your father knew the dangers of being overbold."

I won't theorize on what Aegon might throw his courage at here, as the above might bring enough down-votes on its own. I'll just say that Elia, the lance-wielder, has a strong connection to Aegon already:

"Vengeance for Oberyn and Elia."

"Prince Aegon was Rhaegar's heir by Elia of Dorne"

"You raped her. You murdered her. You killed her children."

TLDR: Aegon's and Elia Sands' story parallels Rhaegar and Lyanna's, and will end tragically. “

#asoiaf #A Song of Ice and Fire

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cruelfeline · 4 years

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I’ve been thinking about choice again. In relation to Hordak, of course.

It’s been debated to death, but I still think about people’s insistence that Hordak confirmed himself an evil, irredeemable person once he decided, upon arrival, to conquer Etheria rather than living peacefully. I think about the nature of this choice from our human perspective and his clone perspective. I think about how these perspectives differ not only in terms of morality, but in terms of what making a choice really means. And I think of how all of this affects my personal judgement of him.

To most of us, the moral difference between “live peacefully” and “conquer the innocents” seems very clear. It seems a natural, obvious distinction, but something that I often consider is whether this distinction seems obvious because it is an irrefutable, natural law, or because of the heavy social conditioning each and every one of us, as fairly average human beings, undergoes from the moment we are born.

I think of our conditioning, which is pro-social and generally geared towards empathy, compassion, and equality, versus Hordak’s. I don’t know what Hordak’s conditioning was like. Not really. Not with any true certainty or accuracy (though I can make some really disturbing guesses). But I can pretty much guarantee that it wasn’t anything like ours. We are social animals raised to live in cooperative societies. Hordak is a manufactured clone soldier made to fight someone else’s war.

And I think that’s an important thing to consider, y’know? I think there is a difference between an individual raised with our understanding of good and evil choosing to do what Hordak did, and an individual raised as he was doing the same. Being taught, extensively, that an action is evil and doing it anyway is different from being taught that the same action is expected and acceptable before choosing it. That, to me, is the huge difference between us and Hordak, and indeed between Hordak and characters like Shadow Weaver and Catra: characters who had some level of socialization and guidance that adheres to our idea of morality rather than whatever fuckery Horde Prime instills in his clones.

Going further along this train of thought, I often consider what Hordak internally understood to be valid options. To you and me, “live peacefully” and “conquer the innocents” are, besides being morally opposite, both workable choices. “Workable” meaning that both can result in a stable, livable situation with an acceptable quality of life. Essentially: neither one means instant death when chosen.

Is this true for Hordak?

In my opinion: no. Knowing what we know about him, knowing where he comes from and whom he answers to, it’s not.

From Hordak’s perspective, whether due to conditioning via socialization or just plain programming, failing to serve Horde Prime in a satisfactory manner isn’t just dishonorable or shameful. It’s akin to death. And I don’t just mean in the practical “if you’re useless, you’re thrown away to die” sense, though we physically see that during his backstory. I mean in the mental, emotional sense.

Hordak makes it very clear that, in his mind, being useful to and valued by Prime is imperative for feeling at peace with himself. He needs to be accepted by Prime because otherwise his life isn’t just worthless, it’s... hm. I don’t truly know how to express the severity of it. It almost has the air of a deeply religious person being rejected by their god. Especially when one notes how reverently Hordak speaks of his Brother, how he borderline worships him. Essentially, failing Prime carries the weight of intense moral, almost spiritual failure. Which makes sense when considering that Hordak is a clone manufactured with the sole purpose of serving Horde Prime.

This is why I don’t buy the whole “he had a choice” argument as truly valid. It seems logical on the surface, but I think that once one really understands Hordak’s mindset, one can see that, to him, there isn’t really a choice at all.

And I understand that this might be hard to really grasp. Many of us, during our socialization, are taught again and again that we have many choices, many options in life. That as long as we try hard and apply ourselves, we can direct the courses of our lives. We can be whatever we want to be. Make of our lives whatever we wish. Hordak likely never received this sort of education. In fact, he likely never received any encouragement in making choices and directing his own life, if Horde Prime’s outburst upon hearing of Hordak’s will and self-naming is any indicator. Hordak wasn’t born into a life of possibilities. He was born a tool, manufactured to perform a task for his master.

To Hordak, there is one way to live life, one direction that leads to an acceptable existence: servitude to his Brother. Hence why he elects to conquer Etheria. And why he makes the abysmal, life-threatening decision to return to Horde Prime rather than... well, honestly, literally anything else would have been a safer bet.

The idea of his “choosing” to conquer Etheria rather than living a civilian life is a bit of an illusion. It exists to us, but to him, a defective clone woefully trapped in whatever abusive web Prime has woven, it’s simply not there. To Hordak, the choice is between “impress Brother” or “die in disgrace” and thus not a real choice at all.

Now, it is worthwhile to note that there is one point in time where Hordak does suddenly see a real choice, a way to live life that is outside of what he previously thought possible. It is perhaps the first time he is able to see a life for himself that does not include his Brother, and it is all thanks to Entrapta.

Entrapta, with her companionship, doesn’t play that stereotypical “turn the evil man good with the power of love” role. What she does is provide a real, true choice. Entrapta opens Hordak’s eyes to the possibility of living a life, a good life, without Horde Prime’s involvement. She essentially alters Hordak’s notion of what is and isn’t a viable existence. Through her companionship, he is able to entertain the notion that it is possible to be worthy and live happily without Horde Prime’s blessing.

Well. Until he believes that she is dead. Once he believes that, the option is null and void, and so he falls back to the only understanding of life he’s ever really had, returns to his Brother, begs him for acceptance, and loses himself to mental violation and erasure.

Because again: without an outside person’s help, Hordak really only has his own conditioning to go on, and that conditioning is very specific regarding what is and isn’t a viable life. Despite how the situation appears to us, the tragic fact of the matter is that said conditioning does not really afford Hordak truly equivalent options.

And that is such a major reason why I just can’t see him as an irredeemable monster: he still hasn’t had the chance to make a real, honest choice.

#hordak #horde prime #entrapta #entrapdak #she ra

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vr2 · 3 years

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i think kaeya’s suffocating one-way loyalty to others, especially diluc, is one of my favourite parts of his character. an inhumanly knightly ideal stretched transparent, gauze-thin to try and obscure the deficit of your own personhood. like clawing shut a black hole with bloodied fingers but still finding it weeping uncontrollably, hysterically. it’s not exactly self-sacrifice but more like some ill-fated way of seeking validation, plunging yourself into the dark to reaffirm that there is something light, barely alive, faintly flickering within. something worth saving, something human after all. its knowingly asking a question that cannot be answered or taken back. an irreversible change of state is the culmination of rubedo, the metamoprhic stage preceding it symbolized by the peacocks tail, cauda pavonis. understanding the true weight of flesh without blood is to kill the creature beforehand, but this is the only way a true value can be known. childhood dreams denature into scar tissue, charred memories leave a bitter taste in your mouth no matter what you wash it down with. twisting the knife to feel agony once more, confirmation there was some soft underbelly to to the beast, still made of blood and bone, steel carapace and blood-dark claws nothing more than bygone idles. this body can catch alight, can burn brilliantly. this maddening fragility can only be human.

an enduring but deceptively frail nature. i think most of his potential as a character is just waiting for him to shatter and reveal what exactly is left underneath it all like a kinder surprise! but the surprise is abject misery compounded upon whatever fucking awful events would have to cause him to break cleanly in two. i think, naturally, if left to his own devices with little change other than his tentative limbo with diluc, the niggling fear of his truth being exposed and his true utter loneliess, rather than breaking, kaeya would slowly be eroded with time. already well entrenched in the safety of his masks in the city he all but rules, slowly the glaciers hes built turn into the sea and without realising it one day he’d be stranded in an ocean of his own making completely and utterly desolate. eventually kaeya will find himself swalloed by the abyss and he will not struggle as the water comes to claim him.

as fun as that is i think there are much more interesting avenues to go down. for all kaeya is mond’s glacial cavalry captain he’s paradoxically also characterised by his emotional vulnerability. and i just think it’s delicious to prey on that and have some extreme emotional distress that tears him apart. although it’s never alluded to ingame outside of jean’s story quest it seems that kaeya orchestrates a lot of things and is relatively deeply involved with the personal lives of many characters who could not particularly offer him anything in return. specifically jean, klee, lisa and amber. somehow slowly he has scraped together some semblance of friendship and camraderie if not outright family. with him being abandoned twice over, one more final abandonment making kaeya compeltely lose all sense of reality would utterly break him for the last time. like realising all this time, all this change, everything yous aid and did was not only pointless but it was a distraction. the ice beneath your feet is is cracking even if you screamed for help you’d simply be damning another person to die with you, selfishly, thoughtlessly, cruelly. realising your purpose was nothing so grand, but with lies and misdirection they sent you to die in the snow convincing yourself a martyr. there is nothing to catch you, nothing to hold onto but whatever is lurking beneath. you can at least trust a beast to be beast, you were denied to live amongst the land of men but in the depths of the abyss you monsters you call your kin reach out to you, knowing. its only a matter of control now, to either fall off of the edge of the world or dive into it.

like a bird trying to swim beneath the water and finally succumbing to the waves. abandon yourself to your fate. revel in it, drink it down in huge gulps, fall into the spiral and dont look up, don’t acknowledge any other ending than this. there is no use making wishes, the stars are not listening.

i think the event that makes kaeya lose his tenuous grip on reality will actually be completely unnoticeable to anyone who doesnt particularly know him ie other than maybe jean, rosaria and diluc. kaeya will not endanger mond directly, but he is aware, that when he falls, so does a pillar of mond’s defence. he will not raise his sword against the place that gave him a wonderful illusion of belonging but he will not save it either, there was no way for him to understand this land of wind, as someone who was born not knowing the sky.

kaeya would mostly act as usual but there’s something distinctly off-kilter. his usual teasing more strange and obtuse, his usual silvertongue tempered into something more humble, cut with a strange truthfulness, a quiet gentleness of a youth from long ago. as if the captain had suddenly turned back time, as if slowly opening up and blooming like a flower. jean is happy to see kaeya smile again, even if she knows it if an affectation of a memory of a memory. she feels like the anemo archon had gifted him wings, this lightness a blessing she should be thankful for rather than weighed down with niggling worry for her oldest friend. rosaria finds it rather liberating, feeling as if kaeya has finally had the strength to shake off the great weight he carried, that burdensome melancholy has finally thawed. if it was not for the face master diluc is making at him however, she might have missed how wide and unseeing that smile seems.

diluc would be torn. there is something wrong with kaeya. but at the same time isn’t this what he wanted? perhaps in another life if kaeya ragnivindr had the chance to grow up, to bloom into adulthood, this is what he’d be. there is a childish softness he had thought he had burned away, the specter of a boy from another life warm and real before you. that makes something in his throat catch, the back of his eyes ache. diluc would feel tormented, kaeya surely had found some peace but here diluc has convinced himsef its ill-gotten. theres a warring inside him of wanting to reach out and hold this person you’ve never seen before, lest the disappear like snow come dawn and at the same time dig your fingers into it, sift through it until its in pieces before you and find what must exist in the heart of this illusion, even if it means tearing it to pieces. its often, often, he curses demanding the truth. honor and code and chivalry mean nothing any more but he has chosen the path and he can no longer go back. because now it means he cannot leave this kaeya, who can at least pretend to smile like he used to, intact. even this short reprieve must be burnt away.

questioning kaeya is painful, he uses his truthful emotions to disarm and its impossible to get anywhere. kaeya knows what hes doing. if he must be a liar to the end, he will give them the grandest, most beautiful illusion he can create. he pulls on his own strings until he feels them dig into skin, closing around his throat. choking down all his childish wishes to be saved, and turning once more to the audience. smothering it is the kinder alternative than to let the small voice in his heart live, take pitiful struggling steps and have to watch it fizzle and die out with a whimper under the weight of the world. the show must go on, such a mundane performance is not worthy of the king of khaenriah.

kaeya has always known that no matter how he comes to the finale, he has his part to play. in the end his choices dont matter, nobody has ever let kaeya have anything but (a photograph set alight by the fireplace. black satin ribbons tied in neat loopy bows, order in unruly heads of hair, scratchy facial hair against your cheek, the smell of cologne and grapes, not yet wine, three bodies curled on an armchair, a book of fairy tale held in two sets of hands. there is hole is in the center). his body has always belonged to khaenriah, his sword to the knights of favonius, his life to mond. there a quiet vindictive selfishness still, of owning and having complete control of your heart. one ill retaliation that gurgles out of your throat and takes the form of half-aborted laughter spilling out like tar, like sickness. turning the world upside down and righting your positions. kaeya sets the board to its rightful place.

is it still falling if you jump? no need to fear of someone letting go, if you had no intention of holding on. one final indulgence, one last rebellion. the childish vindictiveness of taking something from someone and not giving it back, getting the last laugh even if you laugh alone.

the peacock stage in alchemy, is the stage of transcendence, to destroy the original form and purify it to its final rubedo. the peacock must be swallowed by the phoenix. burning through its brilliant colours to achieve the transmutation between the mundane and divine. this is the the purpose of the cauda pavonis. it is to represent a form that is to be destroyed to achieve completion. a sacrifice.

to kaeya, knowing his purpose yet still foolishly living beyond it is the thing that truly truly sinks its teeth in. knowing that everything he built will be destroyed and he must allow it for being foolish enough to build it in the first place. he knows his impermanence and yet still he is beside himself with a festering rage called humanity creeping into his bones. having no way to process this as anything other than some inherent malignant evil that must be intrinsic to himself, i think kaeya takes ‘pleasure’ in not only burning that bridge but proving to everyone that he was an awful person who deserved this and he really is getting the last laugh. and truly there is something about it, for once, destroying something for your own pleasure. even if it is taking your own chance of redemption, that weak-hearted hopefulness and crushing it between your teeth, finding your saviour just to spite their naivety. the onyl thing left ot destroy is yourself so kaeya will make it absolute and spectacular! a performance seen this night and never again.

but the just straight up sacrifice for the sake of devotion, feeling as if he truly has nothing left but himself and he is his own person to destroy, his only act he can take, the only move on the board is sexy too. in another world, those deeper desires never breaking the ice, layers of permafrost scarred over and scratched raw - idle fantasies of love and forgiveness and belonging, mundane dreams reserved for better people - that could not be burnt out of you that night, like your hair, like your hands, like your flesh, like your heart. an ashen taste that lingers, a bitter aftertaste ever present no matter what you try and wash it down with. you can at least appreciate that the ache of your lungs filling with water, with wine, with the heavy weight of lies -- you can imagine you will sink, heavy with this grief. no one can change this punishment you have decided for yourself, they cannot save you without your consent. you see an invitation to be smothered, for your death to have a purpose, just as your life and birth had predetermined value, how could you deny such a privilege?

what is this if not a final act of devotion? to who, it’s undecided. but the fact you have burnt through this life for others, that you have bled for them, have been their hope, perhaps with this you can finally earn the title of a good man in their eyes. but your own dull gaze is the only one that looks back at you.

to think of their faces, their names, their warmth would sully this divine duty with pointless sorrow so you would close your eyes and clutch at the chest, where an abyssal heart would beat fast and scared, a betrayer and coward til the end. in the cold water, the outline of a dream, the gauzy silhouettes of people you loved, the light of the sun cast shadows across lands both alien and comforting, and, and - anything at all would be worth it. anyone but you.

perhaps this is simply the end. the final act lay unwritten for there is no point writing words that will never be read. perhaps the mask has slipped and you never noticed, insisting the show must go on when there is no one to play to. a performer perpetually stuck on the stage, turning about the head of a pin, boring into you with every revolution.

the depths of the abyss, pale in comparison to a gaping maw of this despair so wide, that this ocean is nothing but shallow waters to you. walking into the sea, with sword in hand, a sickness in the form of a love that is incomprehensible and cold. to finally rest free, a sojourn with no hope of return a voyage to far away from here. kaeya alberich falls to the end of the world and you will not save him.

as well and good all this rambling is, i think my favourite rendition of kaeya alberich shattering into tiny little pieces is to the tune of ‘kelly clarkson - since u been gone’

#damn you ren #its a banger song #i like my vindictive kaeya he deserves it king #renshin impact #unhinged kaeya rambling time #cw suicidal ideation #i am jus rambling its nothing coherent #organic free range delusions served fresh and hot #if even 20% of this is intelligeible i am a goddamn GENIUS #unfortuantely i will never know since i do not intend to ever read this again

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pamphletstoinspire · 3 years

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Christmas Day, The Nativity of Our Lord Jesus Christ - December 25, 2020

The Nativity of Our Lord Jesus Christ Music: O Magnum Mysterium

O great mystery, and wonderful sacrament, that animals should see the new-born Lord, lying in a manger!

Blessed is the Virgin whose womb was worthy to bear Christ the Lord. Alleluia!

by Fr. Raphael Frassinetti, 1900

Gospel. Luke ii. 1-14. At that time: There went out a decree from Caesar Augustus, that the whole world should be enrolled. This enrolling was first made by Cyrinus the governor of Syria: And all went to be enrolled, every one into his own city. And Joseph also went up from Galilee out of the city of Nazareth into Judea, to the city of David, which is called Bethlehem: because he was of the house and family of David, to be enrolled with Mary his espoused wife, who was with child. And it came to pass, that when they were there, her days were accomplished, that she should be delivered. And she brought forth her first-born son, and wrapped him up in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger: because there was no room for them in the inn. And there were in the same country shepherds watching, and keeping the night-watches over their flock. And behold an angel of the Lord stood by them, and the brightness of God shone round about them, and they feared with a great fear. And the angel said to them: Fear not: for behold I bring you good tidings of great joy, that shall be to all the people; for this day is born to you a Saviour, who is Christ the Lord, in the city of David. And this shall be a sign unto you. You shall find the infant wrapped in swaddling clothes, and laid in a manger. And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly army, praising God, and saying: Glory to God in the highest: and on earth peace to men of good will.

Who does not rejoice with a holy joy on this great feast, when we celebrate with the Church the appearance of the Son of the eternal Father, our most amiable Redeemer! Behold the expectation of ages has at last made His appearance among us! Come then, all ye Christian nations, to see the new-born Messias, and prostrate yourselves in adoration before Him. Adore Him with Mary, His Virgin Mother; with St. Joseph, His foster-father; with the angels who surround the manger, and sing “Glory to God in the highest.” O mystery of divine love, that a God should descend from heaven and become man for us! St. Francis of Assisi, while giving a discourse on this very subject, was so moved that he could not utter another word, and he and his audience wept floods of tears. My dear young people, I also feel moved on this subject, and would rather give a sermon in tears than in words, when I think that God so loves the world that His eternal Son became a mere infant for us. O what can I do to set your hearts on fire for Him? I confess I am not equal to the task; but with the aid of the Child Jesus, I will relate in a few words the history of His birth, and make some humble and loving comments on it. Who knows but that you will be touched by the great condescension of our good Lord, and may offer Him a few tears of gratitude!

Let us go, my dear young friends, to Bethlehem, and ask the shepherds who were so privileged as to hear the first news of the birth of Christ from the angels, what they saw and heard. “Oh joy and gladness!” they will say. “We have seen the new-born King, we have seen the Child, the most beautiful of the world, wrapped in swaddling-clothes; we have heard His childish cries, and falling down in adoration we have kissed His sacred feet with the greatest veneration. O if you could see how beautiful He is! His rosy cheeks, His golden hair, the pearls of tears in His eyes: all more beautiful than an angel of paradise. Above the Child hover angels, His servants, praising Him, singing hymns of glory and announcing peace to men of good will. We have seen Him born and the choirs of angels praising God.” And where is that divine Infant to be found, in a house or in a palace? Oh, He is to be found in a poor stable; He is laid in a manger, wrapped in swaddling-clothes and exposed to the cold air! Two animals, an ox and an ass, keep Him warm with their breath and seem to recognize their Creator. A man with a radiant face, weeping tears of joy, and full of wonder, adores Him. A young mother, in ecstasy, is busied about the little Child’s necessities; she covers Him with what she has about her, to keep away the cold, she kisses His little feet as a recognition that He is her God, and then His face to show that He is her Son. The little Infant holds out His hands toward His Mother, and looks at her with a joyous smile.

Happy shepherds, what were the gifts that you brought to this divine Infant? In our poverty we had but little that we could give; we brought Him fruit, milk, cheese and a young white lamb. If you could have seen that dear Child, with a smile and a grateful look, receive these poor gifts; He appeared to thank us with His cries and to ask us to give Him our hearts with our other gifts. We could hardly tear ourselves away from that dear Child. This is what these poor, simple people would say. But you, my dear young people, what are your thoughts about that holy Child? This poor Child, who is only a few hours old, is the Son of the Most High. Before there was a heaven or an earth, He existed; the home of that Infant is heaven. Though you see Him wrapped in swaddling-clothes, His vesture is a mantle of purest light; though you see Him between two animals, His usual companions are the angels of heaven. This beautiful Child is God; these small members are the strong arms of a God. But if He be God, why is He in such poverty? He is born poor because He wants it so, and to gain our love and confidence. He might have come into the world in a palace, surrounded by servants; but He preferred a manger for His cradle and a little straw for His bed. He wished to begin His infancy in tears. “Oh, truly happy tears,” cries out St. Thomas of Villanova, ” which obtain for us the pardon of our sins; when we were all lost to God, this Child comes to save us.”

But what does this Child of infinite love ask of us in return? He asks gratitude, acknowledgment and love. The shepherds adored Him indeed, but the rest of mankind did not recognize Him. All the inhabitants of Bethlehem turned Him from their doors; “the foxes have holes and the birds of the air nests, but the Son of man hath not where to lay His head.” The prophet says, “The ox knoweth his owner and the ass his master’s crib, but Israel hath not known Me.” Even in our time many Christians do not give Him the honor which is His due; they heap insults on Him, blaspheme His sacred name, and live in enmity with Him, or do not believe in Him.

Yes, my dear good children, you understand now that the Child Jesus, in return for the great love He showed us, should have gained all hearts on this earth. How many sinners are there in the world and how many sins are committed by them still! Does this look as if Christ had conquered our hearts? Perhaps more sins than usual are committed on Christmas day. The feasts of the Church seem to give occasion for sin, such as going to places of amusement that are dangerous to morals. But let me beg of you, my dear young people, no longer to be ungrateful to the Child Jesus. See, this little Child God has already begun to suffer for you; He is doing the penance which you refused to do, and which you should not omit. Do you hear the cry of the Child? He is already making reparation for those wicked conversations in which you sometimes indulge. Go now to the manger in which Our Lord is placed, and take a good look at Him. See in what poverty He is placed all for you, and then give yourself up to God. Will you not give your heart, your affection to Him?

Love this little Jesus with all your heart, with all your mind and with all your soul; no longer give yourself to the devil; be sorry for the past, throw yourself at the feet of Jesus, and make an entire offering of yourself to Him, saying, “Here we are, dear Infant Jesus, at your feet, with our gifts in our hands, the gift of our hearts; but such miserable hearts, that the gift is unworthy of Thee. But, dear Infant, Thou art omnipotent; Thou canst, if we co-operate with Thy grace, make them pure, holy, and acceptable in Thy sight. Thou canst fill them with virtues and then they will be fit gifts for a God that is in search of souls. We volunteer to give our own souls first, and then we will go forth and gather many others. We now leave our hearts at Thy feet; do not despise them. Thou didst not despise the poor gifts of the shepherds; then take also this gift of our hearts, keep them and make their entrance into heaven sure.”

(by Father Francis Xavier Weninger, 1876)

“When shall I come and appear before the face of God?”–Psalms xli, 3.

Five thousand one hundred and ninety nine years after the creation; 2957 years after the flood; 2015 years after the birth of Abraham; 1510 years after the departure of Moses and the children of Israel from Egypt; 1032 years after the anointing of King David; in the 65th week, according to the prophecy of Daniel; in the 194th Olympiad; 752 years after the building of Rome; in the 42d year of the reign of the Emperor Augustus, when peace prevailed over the whole earth, and in the 6th age of the world, “Jesus Christ, Eternal God, the Son of the Eternal Father,” to bless the world by His coming, was conceived of the Holy Ghost, and nine months later, was born at Bethlehem, of the Virgin Mary. Hence, today is the human birth of our Lord and Saviour.

In these words the holy Church announces, in the Roman Martyrology, today’s great and glorious festival, the birth of our Saviour. The entire account of this festival cannot be given better than it is related in the Gospel of St. Luke, wherein we read as follows: Octavius Augustus, the Roman Emperor, had given peace to the whole empire by conquering his enemies. Nowhere was war heard of, and peace reigned over all the world. The emperor, desiring to know the strength of his empire, and the number of his subjects, profited by this calm, and gave command to his officers to register the names of all the inhabitants of his dominions. Cyrinus was charged with the census of Syria and Judea. In order that this registering might be correctly made, the command was issued that everyone should be enrolled in the city from which his family came. Mary, the Blessed Virgin, and St. Joseph resided at Nazareth, a small town in Galilee; but as both were descended from King David, who came from Bethlehem, a small hamlet or town in the tribe of Judah, five miles from Jerusalem, they went thither. There they found all the houses so filled with strangers, who had come for the same purpose, that although St. Joseph took all pains to find a lodging for his holy spouse, he could not succeed. As the night approached, nothing was left for them but to repair to a cave in a rock, outside of Bethlehem. Both submitted to divine Providence, humbly worshipping the judgment of heaven, as they recognized that the only begotten Son of God, who became flesh to teach us humility and poverty, had Himself chosen this lowly and miserable stable as His birthplace.

Mary, the Virgin Mother, knew the hour of His birth, and remained deeply absorbed in contemplation of the great mystery which was soon to be fulfilled. At midnight she brought forth, without pain and without detriment to her virginity, Him whom she had conceived of the Holy Ghost, Jesus Christ, the only begotten Son of the Heavenly Father, the Saviour of the world. Seeing the Divine Child, she was filled with heavenly joy, and, sinking on her knees, she worshipped Him with deep humility and reverence, while her heart burned with motherly love. To God alone is known the greatness of the devotion and love which the Virgin Mother felt at that most holy moment. She took the Child into her arms, kissed it, and pressed it to her happy heart, wrapped it in poor swaddling-clothes, and, as no better place could be found, laid it in a manger. At that time, an ox and an ass were in the stable, and with their breath warmed the Divine Child trembling with cold. Mary and Joseph, prostrating themselves before the new-born Saviour, worshipped Him most devoutly. The Angels united their adoration with that of Joseph and Mary. They had already adored Him at the first moment of His Incarnation; but St. Paul assures us that they were commanded by the Almighty to adore him again at the time of His birth.

While Mary and Joseph were kneeling before the Child, their souls enraptured with love and awe, the Heavenly Father announced the long-desired birth of the Redeemer of mankind to the heathens and the Jews; to the former, by a star; to the latter, by an Angel. During that night shepherds were watching their flocks in the field, when suddenly an angel, surrounded with wonderful brightness, appeared to them. The men, seized with fear at this apparition, knew not what to say or think. The Angel addressing them, said: “Fear not; for behold, I bring you good tidings of exceeding great joy, that shall be to all people. For this day is born to you a Saviour, who is Christ the Lord, in the city of David. And this shall be a sign to you: you shall find the child wrapped in swaddling clothes, and laid in a manger.” Hardly had the Angel said this, when a multitude of heavenly Spirits appeared, praising God and saying: “Glory be to God on high, and on earth peace to men of good will.” The pious shepherds heard with astonishment the singing of the Angels, and, after they had seen them return to heaven, they said to one another: “Let us go over to Bethlehem, and let us see this word that is come to pass, which the Lord hath showed to us.”

They went hastily to Bethlehem, and found, in the stable, all that the Angel had told them: a lovely new-born Child, wrapped in poor swaddling-clothes, lying in a manger, and the Virgin Mother and St. Joseph kneeling beside it. Knowing from the words of the Angel and still more from a divine light, that this beautiful Child in the manger was the long-desired Saviour of mankind, it is not to be doubted that they worshipped Him with great reverence, and giving due thanks for the grace done to them, offered some gifts according to their station. After this they returned to their flocks, and praising the Lord, they related to others what they had heard and seen. So much is known to us from the Gospel of St. Luke concerning the Nativity of Our Lord and Redeemer, Jesus Christ.

The further considerations, to which we are led by this birth, are so manifold and so great that whole books filled with them, would not suffice to contain them all. Above all, we should consider the fact, that the only begotten Son of God saw the light of the world in so lowly a place, in the depth of winter and in the silence of the night. No doubt He could have celebrated His visible arrival in this world with grandeur and magnificence in the most noble palace in Jerusalem. But He did not, and why? St. Bernard writes: “Can we then believe that it was by chance that He was born in darkness and in the cold of winter, He who is Lord over winter and summer, day and night? Other children cannot choose the time of their birth, as they have neither reason nor liberty; but Christ, though man, was, as the Son of God, in the beginning with God, and was then the same wise and mighty God He is now. He, as the only begotten Son of God, who could choose for His birth whatever time He preferred, chose what was most painful and hard for a little child, especially the child of a poor mother, who hardly possessed a few swaddling-clothes to wrap it in.” He chose in everything what was most trying to human nature. And for what reason did He do this? The Holy Fathers give the following answers:

First, to show, in the most exquisite manner, His infinite love for us, and to move us to love Him in return. Had Christ been born at another time, in a palace, surrounded by luxuries, He would still have shown great love for us; but it could not have been compared with the love He manifested when born in such a night, in such abject poverty and in so lowly a place. Had He been born rich, we should have great cause to love Him; but how much more reason have we now to love Him, when we consider the manner, so full of love to us, in which He deigned to come into the world. Yes, our beloved Saviour, in the poverty of His birth, evinced His great love, and wishes to gain our entire heart. “He who desired to be beloved by us,” says St. Peter Chrysologus, “would be born in this and in no other manner.”

Secondly, Christ, our Lord, wished to show us, at His birth, the path that leads to heaven, and to teach by his example what later He would teach by words. “He announces in works, what He afterwards teaches with words,” says St. Bernard. Yes, not only He, but the stable, the manger, the swaddling-clothes speak to us, and point to the way we must walk, if we wish to derive benefit from the birth, the passion and death of our Saviour. The immoderate desire of the riches, honors and pleasures of this world, or, as St. John says, “the concupiscence of the flesh, the concupiscence of the eyes, and the pride of life,” are the principal sources of all vice, and the principal causes why so many men forfeit heaven and are cast into the depth of hell. The new-born Saviour teaches us, by his abject poverty, the deepest humility, and by voluntarily bearing so many discomforts of place and time, how we may overcome the three concupiscences, destroy the source of three most hurtful vices, and if we are solicitous about our salvation, to despise all that is temporal, or at least not to fasten our heart on it, but to live in due humility, and, by constant mortification, preserve our purity according to our station. The Saviour teaches all this by His example. Hence, the Holy Fathers called the manger, the pulpit of the Divine Child. We are all obliged to listen to this Teacher, who came down from heaven, and to live according to His precepts. The Heavenly Father says the same words now to us, which He proclaimed from heaven when our Saviour was baptized: “This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased; hear ye him!”

From these reasons why Christ was born in a stable, at so rough a time of the year, and in such humility, follows a twofold lesson for us, which I will add in the words of St. Bernard. The first is: “Let us love the Child in the manger,” because the new-born Saviour has so loved us, and desires that we should love Him in return. Let us love Him, but with our whole heart, and in works, not only with the tongue and in words, as He has loved us, not only in words, but in deeds. The second is: “Let us endeavor to resemble this Child in poverty, in humility and in despising temporal pleasures.” For here we see the truth of the words which, later in life, Christ spoke to His disciples, when He placed a little child in the midst of them: “If you do not become as this little child, you cannot enter heaven.” It is this we should especially consider, in regard to the nativity of Christ, on to-day’s festival. Besides, it should be remembered, that this is one of the oldest and most sacred feasts in the whole year, and was instituted by the Apostles themselves. The manger in which the Saviour was laid, and the stable in which He was born, have always been kept in great honor. The wickedness of the heathens erected, on the spot, a temple dedicated to Adonis, that the Christians might be prevented from visiting the holy place; but in the course of time, a magnificent Christian church was built in its stead. Many convents were established at Bethlehem, in one of which St. Jerome spent many years.

Later, the manger, sanctified by Christ, was taken to Rome into the Church of St. Mary Major, where it is still honored at this day. In the holy Chapel, at Paris, are preserved the swaddling-clothes in which the Divine Child was wrapped, and which St. Louis received as a gift from the Emperor Baldwin II. (9)

Adapted from The Liturgical Year by Abbot Gueranger

History of the Forty Days of Christmas

We apply the name of Christmas to the 40 days which begin with the Nativity of Our Lord, December 25, and end with the Purification of the Blessed Virgin Mary, February 2. It is a period which forms a distinct portion of the Liturgical Year; as distinct, by its own special spirit, from every other, as are Advent, Lent, Easter or Pentecost. One same Mystery is celebrated and kept in view the whole 40 days. Neither the Feasts of the Saints, which so abound during this Season; nor the time of Septuagesima, with its mournful Purple, which often begins before Christmastide is over, seem able to distract our Holy Mother the Church from the immense joy of which She received the glad tidings from the Angels (Luke 2:10) on that glorious Night for which the world had been longing 4000 years. The custom of celebrating the Solemnity of Our Savior’s Nativity by a Feast or commemoration of 40 days’ duration is founded on the Holy Gospel itself; for it tells us that the Blessed Virgin Mary, after spending 40 days in the contemplation of the Divine Fruit of Her glorious Maternity, went to the Temple, there to fulfill, in most perfect humility, the ceremonies which the Law demanded of the daughters of Israel, when they became mothers.

The Feast of Mary’s Purification is, therefore, part of that of Jesus’ Birth; and the custom of keeping this holy and glorious period of 40 days as one continued Festival has every appearance of being a very ancient one, at least in the Roman Church. And firstly, with regard to Our Savior’s Birth on December 25, we have St. John Chrysostom telling us, in his Homily for this Feast, that the Western Churches had, from the very commencement of Christianity, kept it on this day. He is not satisfied with merely mentioning the tradition; he undertakes to show that it is well founded, inasmuch as the Church of Rome had every means of knowing the true day of Our Savior’s Birth; since the acts of the Enrollment, taken in Judea by command of Augustus, were kept in the public archives of Rome. The holy Doctor adduces a second argument, which he founds on the Gospel of St. Luke, and he reasons thus: we know from the sacred Scriptures that it must have been in the fast of the seventh month (Lev. 23, 24 et seq.) that the Priest Zachary had the vision in the Temple; after which Elizabeth, his wife, conceived St. John the Baptist (the ‘seventh month’ corresponded to the end of our September and beginning of our October). Hence it follows that the Blessed Virgin Mary having, as the Evangelist St. Luke relates, received the Archangel Gabriel’s visit, and conceived the Savior of the world in the sixth month of Elizabeth’s pregnancy, that is to say, in March, the Birth of Jesus must have taken place in the month of December.

But it was not till the fourth century that the Churches of the East began to keep the Feast of Our Savior’s Birth in the month of December. Up to that period they had kept it at one time on the 6th of January, thus uniting it, under the generic term of Epiphany, with the Manifestation of Our Savior to the Magi, and in them to the Gentiles; at another time, as Clement of Alexandria tells us, they kept it on the 25th of the month Pachon (May 15), or on the 25th of the month Pharmuth (April 20). St. John Chrysostom, in the Homily we have just cited, which he gave in 386, tells us that the Roman custom of celebrating the Birth of Our Savior on December 25 had then only been observed ten years in the Church of Antioch. It is probable that this change had been introduced in obedience to the wishes of the Apostolic See, wishes which received additional weight by the edict of the Emperors Theodosius and Valentinian, which appeared towards the close of the fourth century, and decreed that the Nativity and Epiphany of Our Lord should be made two distinct Festivals. The only Church that has maintained the custom of celebrating the two mysteries on January 6 is that of Armenia; owing, no doubt, to the circumstance of that country not being under the authority of the Emperors; as also because it was withdrawn at an early period from the influence of Rome by schism and heresy.

The Feast of Our Lady’s Purification, with which the 40 days of Christmas close, is in the Latin Church of very great antiquity; so ancient, indeed, as to preclude the possibility of our fixing the date of its institution. According to the unanimous opinion of Liturgists, it is the most ancient of all the Feasts of the Holy Mother of God; and as Her Purification is related in the Gospel itself, they rightly infer that its anniversary was solemnized at the very commencement of Christianity. Of course, this is only to be understood of the Roman Church; for as regards the Oriental Church, we find that this Feast was not definitely fixed to February 2 until the reign of the Emperor Justinian, in the sixth century. It is true that the Eastern Churches had previously to that time a sort of commemoration of this Mystery, but it was far from being a universal custom, and it was kept a few days after the Feast of Our Lord’s Nativity, and not on the day itself of Mary’s going up to the Temple.

But what is the characteristic of Christmas in the Latin Liturgy? It is twofold: it is joy, which the whole Church feels at the coming of the divine Word in the Flesh; and it is admiration of that glorious Virgin, Who was made the True Mother of God. There is scarcely a prayer, or a rite, in the Liturgy of this glad Season, which does not imply these two grand Mysteries: an Infant-God, and a Virgin-Mother. For example, the magnificent Anthem, Alma Redemptoris, composed by the Monk Herman Contractus, continues up to the very day of the Purification to be the termination of the Divine Office. It is by such manifestations of Her love and veneration that the Church, honoring the Son in the Mother, testifies Her holy joy during this season of the Liturgical Year, which we call Christmas.

We are aware that, when Easter Sunday falls at its latest—that is, in April—the Ecclesiastical Calendar counts as many as six Sundays after the Epiphany. Christmastide (that is, the 40 days between Christmas day and the Purification) includes sometimes four out of these six Sundays; frequently only two; and sometimes only one, as in the case when Easter comes so early as to necessitate keeping Septuagesima, and even Sexagesima Sunday, in January. Still, nothing is changed, as we have already said, in the ritual observance of this joyous season, excepting only that on those two Sundays, the fore-runners of Lent, the vestments are violet, and the Gloria is omitted.

Although our Holy Mother the Church honors with special devotion the Mystery of the Divine Infancy during the whole season of Christmas; yet She is obliged to introduce into the Liturgy of this same season passages from the holy Gospels which seem premature, inasmuch as they relate to the active life of Jesus. This is owing to there being less than six months allotted by the Calendar for the celebration of the entire work of our Redemption: in other words, Christmas and Easter are so near each other, even when Easter is as late as it can be, that Mysteries must of necessity be crowded into the interval; and this entails anticipation. And yet the Liturgy never loses sight of the Divine Babe and His incomparable Mother, and never tires in Their praises, during the whole period from the Nativity to the day when Mary comes to the Temple to present Her Jesus.

The Greek Church too makes frequent commemorations of the Maternity of Mary in the Offices of this Season: but they have a special veneration for the twelve days between Christmas Day and the Epiphany, which in their Liturgy are called Dodecameron. During this time they observe no days of abstinence from meat; and the Emperors of the East had, out of respect for the great Mystery, decreed that no servile work should be done, and that the courts of law should be closed, until after January 6.

#nativity of our lord

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incorrectsmashbrosquotes · 5 years

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Reflections of the Demon King

*A bit of a character study of our favorite Demon King. Please enjoy!

This was submitted by @ganondorfthedarklord and we worked together on it. Thanks bro!

Within his personal quarters did the infamous demon king spare glance at tapestry and relic, art and artifact. The Gerudo who stood an immortal king had lived millennia, his memory stretched far and vast, and pieces of himself could be drawn to a time before time itself existed. He was draped in soft scholarly robes over metal boots, black etched over with gold as he allowed himself a moment outside his conflict. As fingers slid across the stitching of textiles from his own time, preserved through extensive magics of his own making, he began to settle into contemplating that long past, back to his youth, considering how he came to be as he was now.

Fingers drifted from art that depicted his home to things far more personal, a wooden mug, roughly carved from a solid chunk. It was not something fit for a king, it was rugged, uneven, but fit for his enormous fingers and shaped comfortably. Even now he recalled the day he received it…

One year. Only one year had passed since he had been crowned King of the Gerudo, and already dozens of the desert tribes had fallen to his might. Some called him the Witch King, others the Dark Master. In the end it didn’t matter to Ganondorf what he was called, so long as they fools knelt before him.

On this day, the one year anniversary of his kingship, the leaders of the tribes he conquered presented him with gifts. Some were extravagant works of gold and silver, others were wickedly sharp weapons. He had received little else, save for a few scrolls containing spells of which he already had mastered. He was mentally dividing up the gifts, intending to use them for more useful pursuits than gathering dust on his shelves, when he was interrupted from his thoughts.

“Your Majesty?” came a shy voice. Ganondorf turned to see a little girl, no older than eleven summers, standing near him, nervously shifting about. She was of the Jabari Tribe, one of his conquests, but there was clearly Gerudo ancestry in her features.

“What?” he questioned, dutifully keeping his voice neutral.

“I… I know that… that I have nothing worthy of you… but I wished to give you a gift anyway.” she said. Without another word she presented a simple wooden cup to him. The Dark King took up the offering, examining it critically. The rough hewn wood was nothing to show off about, but it had obviously been carved with care.

Ganondorf turned to the nervous girl and spoke with clarity something he had never said before.

“Thank you.”

As Ganondorf drank from the cup he inwardly chuckled at the memories of the odd looks he’d received from nobles due to his use of this cup. He never bothered to share the story of it, they had been unworthy to hear it anyway. Simple yes, but it was his. He shook himself from such thoughts and returned his attention to the tapestry before him.

His time before his ascension was a mystery to many, but he remembered it well. He had been born to a young she-warrior whose name he had never learned. It had never truly seemed important really, she had died birthing him after all. Nor did he know his father, save that he was a wandering Hylian Knight who had been taken by the Gerudo for a short time. In truth he had been a child of the Gerudo Tribe, rather than any individual. They had forged him into what he was. They had taught him to stand, to strive, to slay. What need of traditional parents had he then?

Upon his thirteenth summer the wisest and strongest of the Tribal Elders, Koume and Kotake, had taken him into their hands. He knew that they had loved him, but it was not a gentle love. It was a cruel love, hard and sharp like a sword. They had turned him into a weapon of magic and steel. No mistakes had been tolerated, and any he made were punished harshly…

“Fool of pup!” screamed Koume at the prostate child before her. “You are to be King of our people! A savior! And yet you continue to make mistakes that a brain-envenomed Goron wouldn’t make!” she shrieked in Gerudo tongue.

“I… I am sorry, Elder Koume.” he ground out.

For that she blasted him with dark fire that etched into his skin. He took it silently, malice building in his gut. “Never apologize you weak pup! Kings do not apologize! They simply are!” Ganondorf stood, feeling the aches in his muscles. Something was building inside him. Something ancient. Something terrible.

Something very, very, angry.

“Perhaps then, it is your fault.” he said, not fully conscious of his actions. He only knew that what was inside him NEEDED to be free. “Perhaps I make mistakes because my teacher is a wretched, ugly, weak, PATHETIC BAG OF DUST!” he thundered. The world seemed to fade around him, his nose picked up the faint burn of ozone in the air.

“You- you wretched-” Koume never got the chance to finish her sentence as Ganondorf loosed a beast’s roar, and with it a bolt of solid black energy from his mouth. It smashed Koume through solid stone.

With that he fell to the ground. The last thing his senses could grasp before losing consciousness was Kotake walking up and standing over him, a broad smile on her wizened face.

“Finally.” she said.

After that his strength grew in leaps and bounds. He learned every spell his teachers knew, practiced every martial skill his tribe could offer. His nights were consumed by scrolls and books, filled with the sciences and philosophies of the wise and powerful alike. He became voracious, seeking every scrap of knowledge and power he could find. Soon he towered tall above all his peers in both body and mind. The many scars of his pursuits were left untouched, he took pride in the growth drawn from each cut.

The path forward had become clear to him. To be free one must have power, to have power one must be intelligent, one must be strong, one must be cunning, one must be willing to utilize that which was necessary. To be a true sovereign one must be able to overcome all that could question him, and in later ages which he had not yet reached he would come to include the gods among those who must be overtaken. He would learn self-reliance as the only reliance. For then he still prayed to the gods to better his lands and strengthen his might.

Perhaps the only person who ever truly knew him beside himself was his second, a young Gerudo girl who had managed to sneak into his training sessions during that age. For a time, she had been a trusted and wonderful companion a few years younger than himself, sharp of tongue and mind with strength that could hold longer than any other of his kin against him. Such trust was misplaced, he would later learn, as she was not as loyal to him as her own ideas of the Gerudo, and over time their visions of the future would irreconcilably divide. She hid her betrayal well, and it had been wrenching to learn of this treachery.

It was first with hope that he approached Hyrule, while he had long studied the history he was yet young and naive in all practical sense. War had long existed, but there was perhaps some potential for a more peaceful progress. He soon learned the truth of the Hylians.

They were a soft people. A people made weak by wealth and plenty. Their King was nothing like what a king should be. He was like his people, soft and weak. A sorry excuse for a monarch. And slowly,steadily, Ganondorf became angry. These weak creatures hoarded and hoarded all they could, unwilling to share with his own. The so-called blessed races which infested the mountains, fields, forests and hills shared in the plenty, but his own were outcasts in the desert wastes.

His fury could not truly be described. Soon he realized that the only way forward was domination. Control. Conquest.

Ganondorf began with his native home. He turned the Gerudo people from warriors to soldiers. He forged them as they had forged him. An army was born. And one by one, the tribes of the great Southern Desert fell to his rule.

His rule was not as stable as he had anticipated. He was far more young and ignorant than he had believed of himself, his older self understood. That passion, that fury, had not yet been as under control as he had believed and in frustration he made many mistakes which further destabilized his rule. He may be proud and unrelenting, lacking in regret, but one did not grow so powerful without correcting where one faulted or erred.

He had tried a measured hand, but the pride of the tribes he conquered refused to be denied. He was plagued by little rebellions, internal conflicts, and assassination attempts. Slowly he applied more and more pressure upon his conquered peoples. Blood and steel became the law of his rule, but he never went further than what he deemed necessary. For every ten rebels he executed with a swift and brutal hand, another thirty were cowed into submission. He came to realize an important truth: Men do not fear swords. They fear Monsters. And so a monster he became.

It was that philosophy that finally led him to the Triforce, and to Hyrule’s conquest.

But it was in his seventh year of rule and conquest that his greatest failure came. His confidant and friend had betrayed him. Only through his mothers did he even allow suspicion of her, allow himself to question her. It should have been obvious, but he had been blinded by the trust he had placed. Such a mistake he would not make again, and he swiftly discovered another most trusted servant had never been on his side at all. It was rare any saw what he did not, such mistakes boiled in his veins and he cursed and spat. Steadily, rather than the support he had intended, he had lost ground.

Defeat was long and it was attrition combat which finally wore his powers from him. He had total confidence in himself all throughout that fight, he needed to, for he was to conquer the heavens themselves, he had brought Hyrule to heel, he had taken their most sacred relics and children were all that faced him. He did not see the gods behind them, and he fell into his hatred, let it control him in ways he would not allow again so easily.

Many foes had claimed he did not feel as man did, could not see as a person, but something almost all failed to realize is he empathized greatly with those he slew. To manipulate as he has one must truly understand those they are using, and he did not ever act without reason when he had sound mind, but he was ruthless and ceaseless, endless, eternal in his conquest. It was not without consideration that he would end a life, rather he considered each greatly, but of comparison to his goals there was little to decide. Zelda herself had done similar such things in her battles to bring down his reign.

Ganondorf set his sentiments from the ancient past aside and beheld the present as he rose, though the mug never left his hand, to the bright stained windows which peered into the realm beyond. He saw out into the era as it was. Here he stood outside of his time and realm among countless beings of differing origins beyond his own. Such ripe pickings, such choice pawns and pieces, and the most loyal of servants of all time did follow him again. There was much that had happened here. He deliberated on it as he drank deep of his liquid caffeine.

Ironic, that one of the beings who most spent her attention upon him was a goddess of light in her world while the other a powerful witch, one of not insignificant strength and deeply wrapped in darkness herself. He had hesitated to call the bonds shared with them love at first, despite the deliciously debauched acts they participated in, but competition as the two challenged him deeper into the embrace was ever driving, as was his passion. As tightly controlled as it may be, upon release his passion was consuming and he was one to fight in every battle before him, even ones of affection. Those bonds developed much further than he had ever anticipated.

This established, none of the trio possessed the same beliefs, the same ideals, and he well knew they would often come against him no matter how pleasing their time together. It was refreshingly pleasant, though, to take this occasional escape from his constant war. In a way it reminded him of his youth, rejuvenated him. Such bright passion was not as common in him these days, the flare of heat was appreciated. The joining of flesh also produced something he had wanted but not anticipated finding before his final victory — children.

An heir was something Ganondorf long sought despite his immortality. While there had always been many who sought him it was difficult to find one capable enough, enticing enough, powerful enough for him to even lightly consider the idea of truly bedding. He had first come to have a biological one, and he managed two such children with the first of his mates, the witch, but they had not joined him in his cause. The first had become a beacon of justice in his own world, making himself a symbol not unlike Ganondorf himself. The second had trodden a path similar to his own, rebellion against authority and the divine. Although his actions were far more… altruistic in their motivations.

But despite their difference in goals he was still proud of both of them. However, no matter his pride, neither could be his heir.

Then whispers had reached his ears of another child. One so like him yet so very different. A child filled with rage and darkness. A devil in the making, soaked in the blood of genocide and betrayal. He had sought out this child, and the little demon had been everything he had hoped. And so he had his heir. From this child he would forge a scourge upon the Sacred Realm itself. All of creation would one day tremble before this creature… this Angel Fallen Underground.

Ganondorf once more returned attention to the ancient mug as he considered his relations and reflected upon the state of his kin. He would never admit it, but it had been gutting to see what had become of them.

The last and yet living king of the Gerudo was a man well out of time, he had long recognized. Life changed around him, the Gerudo were long dead; while others might question him of the statement they had died millennia ago. What remained of them was a corpse mutilated into something he cared nothing for. Gone was their savage strength, their terrible will. They had been… domesticated by that wretched scourge that was Hyrule.

Independence had died, rebellion gone, their leadership had been gorged out and replaced with one far too similar to that of the Hylians. Worse still they now served under the family of Hyrule. It disgusted him to see such proud resistance fall into line beneath the kingdom he fought. The only value of it was the idea of resurrection, he had forged it once, he could forge it again in the crucible of blood and steel. The world had indeed changed, but never was it to benefit him lest he force it.

Ganondorf contemplated the future, turning from the window toward his maps and plots where much was yet to be subjected and subjugated to his influence.

What still stood before him was Hyrule, and with it the Triforce. It remained difficult, but to him there had never been such a thing as the impossible, merely heightened and difficult obstacles to overcome. Even fate was one to be taken and conquered. Once he finally wretched these things from the gods and their champions he would have all in hand. From there he could forge all existence as he desired. From there he could remove the thrice damned gods from their thrones. They were his truest of enemies, and such cowards they were to hide from him in the heavens behind their champions.

Though he rarely spoke such words he truly respected those two ceaseless opponents, both nearly as stubborn as himself. The princess could meet him in wits, the boy in swords, and though separate they could never defeat him they could gather quite the remarkable forces to lead against him together. Each piece of the pair impressed him. He would have to overcome them alone one day, and he would not have it otherwise. For him his victory must be complete and then he shall be able to end all who would stop him. It must be total, eclipsing, and it shall be, no matter how long it takes. He has lived countless centuries, he can take countless more. Existence will cease before he would do so.

The mug disappeared from his fingers in a mix of black and purple flames, off to a safe location, as did the soft cloth which had cloaked him during this time alone. Donning armor of war made of dark metal detailed in gold and cloaked with crimson beneath fiery hair, the time for contemplation had ended. The time to act neared, he was to convene his forces and prepare for it. Nothing would ever stop his march, only delay, only slow. Fierce fangs glinted in a smirk formed from devious designs taking shape. The giant pair of metal boots moved ever onward to a faint, almost silent, rhythmic click. Always forward.

Because for Ganondorf, forward was the only possibility.

#incorrect super smash bros #super smash bros #incorrect quotes #submission #Smash Bros #Ganondorf #Nabooru #Bayonetta #Palutena #Joker #Captain Falcon #Chara #Legend of Zelda #Kid Icarus #Persona #F-Zero #Undertale

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choiceslife · 5 years

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When Worlds Collide: Part Four (Limited Series)

Disclaimer: Based upon characters in Choices - Endless Summer, It Lives in the Woods, The Royal Romance, #LoveHacks, Home for the Holidays, and The Elementalists series. All characters presented are the property of Pixelberry Studios. I claim no ownership. This story is purely the work of the poster as fanfiction. Overall Series Rating: 18+ Warnings: Adult Language, Adult Content, Sexual Discussions. Future chapters may contain SMUT and Gratuitous Sexual Descriptions Overall Series Summary: The sisters are together again and Ava Cunningham believes only they can help her. Author’s Note: This Limited Series is a companion/sequel to Divided By Circumstance. I suggest you at least read that series in order to understand this one. As with most of my stories, this is a crossover and is part of my interconnected Chromatic AU. My MC’s are as follows: Carrissa Monroe (TRR), Abby Bennett (#LH), Scarlett Joy (HFTH), Taylor Reed (ES), and Donovan Bailey (TE). Previous Chapters can be found in my Master List located in my header. Tag List: @cinnamonroll-duffy @darley1101 @brightpinkpeppercorn @debramcg1106 @regrettingnathan @katurrade @teamtomsato @luxurylives @akrenich @riseandshinelittleblossom @ladynonsense @kinkykingliam @jlouise88 @littlecrookedheart @i-choose-liam@tmarie82 @bobasheebaby @boneandfur @europeanguy @walkerismychoice @pixieferry @sstee1 @endlessly-searching-for-you @eileendannie @imogen-wescott

*** Westchester, Oregon - Many Years Ago Not many people came to visit the old lady in the woods. Just the way Cora Pritchard preferred. The last time she had company, her visitor had traveled from relatively nearby Pine Springs for some advice. But that was some time ago. The new guest she was expecting would be coming from much further away and would be in a much more dire situation.

The young, and very pregnant, brunette arrived at Cora’s door late one night, knowing the elderly woman was the only person that could help keep her unborn daughters stay safe. She knew after her first trimester that something was different about the pregnancy. Her coven wasn’t sure what to make of her complications, so she made her way across the country to find Cora. Members of her coven had always held Cora in high regard as one of the most powerful witches in the country. If anyone could help, it would be Cora Pritchard. As the last few months of Anastasia Freeman’s pregnancy progressed, Cora tended to her needs as best as an old woman could, especially with limited resources. Anastasia appreciated it all. She knew Cora had modest means, but her willingness to help a stranger be as comfortable as possible during the final days of her life was truly a blessing. “Cora,” Anastasia called with shallow breath. “It’s almost time.” Cora gripped the young woman’s hand tightly. “Are you sure this is what you want my dear? There is still time to get to a hospital.” “No. We can’t. They’ll ask questions. It will get back to my children’s father and he can never know they exist.” Anastasia cried out as her contractions began to intensify. “He’s hell-bent on power and if he knew that his mistress bore children with such gifts; he’d exploit them. I want my daughters to grow up with a normal childhood Cora. Promise me you’ll do as we discussed. Promise me that Adam Vega will never know of his daughters.” “I promise you Anastasia. Your secret is safe with me. Your daughters will never end up under Vega’s control.” Years had long passed since Cora performed a binding spell, but back then it was to reign in a rebellious young witch who didn’t realize the honor it was to possess such magical powers. This binding spell was much different; much stronger. The three infant subjects had no idea their birth was a once in a millennia event that could unleash a power struggle between good and evil that would decimate the planet. Cora intended to keep their births unknown per Anastasia’s final wish. There would be groups on both sides searching for the trio of sisters, but Cora would do everything in her power to keep them protected from harm. Cora successfully bound the powers the infants possessed, but the massive spell drained most of her energy. Recuperation took several days, yet she still managed to tend to the trio of babies left to her charge. After a few day of caring for the newborns and a private burial ceremony for Anastasia, Cora prepared the sisters to be taken to their new homes. The incantation she used would allow her to always know their locations should the need ever arise where Cora had to undo the spell and unleash the sisters’ powers. For most of their childhoods, things went smoothly for Abby and Scarlett. They were both raised in loving family units. Carissa’s situation, however, was unexpected. The young couple Cora had selected to raise Carissa ended up divorcing a few weeks after the she was placed with them. Rather than contacting Cora, the couple abandoned the baby at a local hospital. Cora debated finding baby Carissa a new home, but didn’t want to raise suspicions with any entities or groups seeking the power of the sisters. So she left the baby in the care of the state. As the years passed, Cora monitored from afar. Only once did she have to interact in the lives of all three to avert the sister’s discovering each other. The trio had all been drawn to New York City in their early 20’s. For Cora, it made her realize just how strong their bonds were to one another. The three unknown sisters lived within a few blocks of one another and it would only be a matter of time until fate brought them together. Until Cora changed all that from happening. San Francisco, California “We are never going to find a writer worthy of what we’ve established here.” Martin thrust his fists against the glass conference table, tired and annoyed at looking through countless résumés. “ClickIt is at the top of its game TJ and we can’t just accept anyone. We need someone with quality and a thirst to get ahead of the trends.” “You’re so right bro. They should also be hot.” Before TJ could continue, a knock at the conference room door interrupted his train of thought, which no doubt would have continued down the path of wanting a writer for their physical attributes. “What?” The elderly secretary from the Temp Agency shuffled her way inside. She was friendly enough, but something in her scared TJ to his core. “I’m sorry to interrupt gentlemen,” she began, “it seems that this one résumé was previously misplaced.” She dropped the document off in front of Martin before making her way back to the door. “I think you’ll agree that this woman would be the best candidate for the company.” Martin quickly glanced through the woman’s qualifications and liked what he saw. “Thank you Cora,” he said, but she was already gone. It would be the last time Martin or TJ ever saw the elderly woman. “Abby Bennett huh?” TJ remarked after snatching the résumé from Martin’s hands. “She is definitely qualified. And she sounds like a hottie. Let’s hire her and be done with this nonsense.” New York City, New York Three dates with the reclusive billionaire and Abby couldn’t believe just how wrong she had been about him. She had imagined that Adrian Raines was like every other rich guy she ever met: Arrogant. Selfish. Philanderer. After getting to know him, however, Abby realized Adrian was nothing like the others. As an interview subject, he was rather boring; but the dates were a very different story. Abby snuggled her back close to Adrian’s firm chest as he wrapped his strong arms around her midsection. She was absolutely floored at how ridiculously muscular Adrian was beneath his expensive Italian suit, but she certainly wasn’t complaining. And the sex - goodness was the sex incredible. Abby couldn’t believe that someone so young could perform as if he had a lifetime of experience. Adrian brushed a strand of hair from Abby’s neck as he placed a gentle kiss to her collarbone. “I can’t believe that just happened. I usually don’t move to intimacy so quickly, but something about you Abby just drew me into your grasp.” “Squats. I do squats like you wouldn’t believe. Never underestimate the power of a nice booty,” Abby joked as she turned into Adrian’s embrace. She ran her fingers up his washboard abs, eliciting a soft moan from her lover. “You clearly know the benefits of going to the gym as well.” Abby pressed her lips to Adrian’s while pushing him onto his back. She straddled his waist, raking her fingers down his taut chest, ready to go for another round when her cell phone blared with an incoming call. She glanced at the number, immediately recognizing the San Francisco area code, and promptly rolled off Adrian. “Sorry. I’ve been expecting this call and need to take it.” Several minutes passed and Adrian propped his body up on his elbow while still lying in bed as he watched Abby pace his penthouse master bedroom. Adrian could tell she was excited, but was actively working to contain that emotion from coming through in her voice. “Seems like you’ve got some good news,” he commented when she hung up her phone. “I’ve been offered a position as a Featured Contributor with ClickIt in San Francisco,” Abby squealed as she jumped back onto Adrian’s bed. She shoved him onto his back once again and re-straddled his lap. “I’ve wanted this job for months. I can finally work at a place that is solely focused on digital media, unlike the frickin’ Manhattan Daily which keeps stifling my attempts to expand their digital footprint with an app.” “San Francisco huh? I’m happy for you, but I won’t lie. I was hoping to get to know you better.” “Oh Adrian. I’m sorry. I wasn’t really looking for anything serious. I figured we were just having some fun.” Abby pressed her hips down tightly on Adrian’s waist, slightly gyrating until she felt his manhood respond. “You’re a fantastic guy and one day you’ll make some lucky lady very happy.” Abby kept grinding into Adrian as she leaned forward and kissed his soft lips once again. “Until then, we’ve got the rest of tonight to have a good time and I think you should give me a proper send off.” Adrian rolled Abby over and positioned himself above her. “With pleasure,” he whispered as he slowly pressed inside Abby’s core for the second time that night. ___ “I wish you didn’t have to go through with this Liam. Just tell Leo to take it back.” Drake nudged his head tighter into the crook of Liam’s shoulder. His hand draped across his best friend’s bare chest. Drake lightly massaged one of Liam’s nipples into a hardened peak as his mind came to the realization that this could very well be the last time he got to cuddle in his lover’s arms. “I hate him for doing this to you. To us.” Liam understood Drake’s pain. For as long as he knew what it meant to love, Liam always believed that he would be with Drake. However, all of that changed when Leo abdicated the throne. As progressive a country Cordonia was, Liam knew that his time with Drake was over. While the people of his kingdom may accept a Prince Consort, the laws were still deeply archaic and required him to produce a natural-born heir to the throne lest the reign of the Rys family come to an end. Liam knew he had to put his country before his own needs. “You don’t hate him Drake. As much as it pains me that I can no longer be with you, we both know that this is what is best for Cordonia. I love Leo, but can you imagine him running a country?” Drake chuckled at the thought before rolling on top of Liam, pressing his chest tightly to his best friend’s firm body. “All I want to think about his going down on you one last time.” Drake slipped beneath the covers, about to pleasure Liam, when the bedroom door flew open. He felt his best friend immediately tense up at the intrusion and once he heard the voice, he knew why. “What are you still doing in bed Liam? I have a night of fun planned. Tariq and I are downstairs waiting,” Maxwell said with ferocious energy as he plopped himself down on the bed beside Liam. “Do you know where Drake is? He wasn’t in his room. I checked.” “Not a clue. How did you get in here? The door was locked.” Liam made sure not to pull the covers too tight so Drake would not be revealed hiding beneath. “I had keys made to everyone’s room. How else am I to give my patented Beaumont morning greetings?” Maxwell sprung from the bed and was back by the door in an instant. “Anyway Liam, hurry up and get dressed. I’m gonna search for Drake. See you downstairs.” The energetic young Beaumont disappeared as quickly as he arrived. Liam peeled back the covers to reveal a startled Drake looking up at him. “Well that kinda killed the mood.” “Yup.” Downstairs, Maxwell found Tariq waiting in the lobby without Drake. Lord Beaumont had checked his room a second time after leaving Liam’s, but it was still empty. “Still no sign of him Tariq.” Maxwell was simply met with a knowing smirk from the nobleman. “He’s gonna miss out on all the fun.” Maxwell began to rattle off all of the places he planned for the group to experience tonight, when a gentle hand tapped him on the shoulder. “Yes?” He questioned spinning around to see a frail looking old woman. “I’m sorry to interrupt young man, but I couldn’t help overhearing your plans for the evening. With your exciting agenda, you’re going to work up quite the appetite. There is a quaint bar not too far from here that has the best burgers in the city. Ones that will change your life.” “Ooooooh. That sounds yummy!” “Indeed they are. And if you go, I hope that you get Carissa as your server. She is a bright flower in this concrete jungle waiting to bloom.” “Like a little blossom?” Maxwell questioned. “Exactly my dear.” “This is awesome. Thank you Miss...?” “Cora.” “Thank you Miss Cora.” Maxwell took the elderly woman’s hand and kissed it gently, when he spotted Liam and Drake step off the elevator and into the lobby. He excused himself from his new friend to greet the King-to-be and Drake. “It’s about time! We are gonna have so much fun. And this sweet old woman just gave me a lead on a fantastic place for burgers later.” “What old woman?” Drake questioned. Maxwell turned to see that Cora was no longer where he left her. “But she was just...?” A look of confusion crossed his face as he craned his neck around the lobby to no avail. “Tariq? You saw her right?” Tariq shook his head not even looking up from his phone, no doubt swiping to find a hook-up for the night. “Right. Well shall we go?” Liam asked ready to get the group focused on having a good time for his bachelor party. “I’m looking forward to having a great night out with friends. And we will definitely be going to grab those burgers later because I’ve been craving one ever since we landed in America.” ___ The following morning, Cora Pritchard found herself sitting on one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs situated on either side of the worn brown door belonging to the office of Damien Nazario, Private Investigator. The building was rather rundown, borderline squalor, but no more decrepit than the shack she called home. Several moments passed before the attractive former police officer arrived. His dark hair was matted to his head and his body covered in a fine layer of sweat. If Cora had to venture a guess, she must have caught him after his morning run, before he went for his usual morning coffee with his friend Kyle. “Good morning ma’am,” Damien said with a smile as he grabbed his office key from his pocket to unlock the door. It was quite unusual for him to have someone waiting for him so early in the morning since he tended not to open for business until well after 10am. Hell, even then it was unusual for him to have a walk-in client. Most of his business operated on referrals. “I hope you haven’t been waiting long. I usually don’t open for another three hours.” “Oh that’s quite alright Mr. Nazario,” Cora said with a grandmotherly smile as she followed the fit investigator into his office. The place was an average size and, much to Cora’s surprise, was fairly well organized. Several pictures of him with a pair of people, who appeared related, adorned the walls. More pictures with the same people were in frames on Damien’s desk. “I won’t take up much of your time.” Cora took a seat across from where Damien usually sat when meeting with clients, nonchalantly swiping the closet framed photo to take a look. “A Ms. Scarlett Joy had applied for a Junior Editor position with Piquant Press recently and we wanted to schedule an interview for her with the Editor-in-Chief, Mr. Peralta. I’m afraid the phone number she provided is incorrect, so we weren’t able to reach her. She listed your office as the most recent place of employment so I thought I’d stop by to set up the interview.” A brief look of disappointment washed over Damien. He was looking forward to catching another case since he could use the money. “Oh I see,” he replied fumbling around his office looking for a spare shirt to cover himself. Unable to locate one quickly, Damien took a seat across from Cora. “I’m sorry ma’am. I don’t usually have conversations with people dressed like this,” he said motioning to himself. “Or undressed like this,” Cora joked. “But it’s quite alright Mr. Nazario. I’ve seen plenty of shirtless men in my time, although few as remarkable looking as you.” A chuckle escaped Damien’s throat as his face blushed slightly. “Well, thank you,” he replied caught off guard by the old woman’s remark. Cora could sense he was a little flustered by her comment. “I’m old Mr. Nazario. Not dead,” she laughed. “Your boyfriend here is a lucky man.” Cora placed the picture of Damien with his arm wrapped around a young man’s shoulder, both smiling brightly, back onto his desk. “Who? Kyle?” Damien stammered. “No, no. Kyle is my best friend. He and his cousin, Nadia, are in fact. I’m actually dating Scarlett.” “My apologies Mr. Nazario,” Cora said as she stood from her seat. “Well if you could have Ms. Joy call Mr. Peralta’s office so that her interview can be scheduled, it would be greatly appreciated.” “Not a problem.” “Thank you for your time. And again, I’m sorry for my confusion.” “It’s quite alright,” Damien said standing behind his desk as Cora made her way towards the door. “Can I ask you a quick question though?” Cora stopped and looked back towards the investigator. “Why did you think Kyle was my boyfriend?” “All of the pictures in your office feature you and him. You both look very happy together in them.” Cora watched as Damien glanced around looking at all of the photos. She could tell that he was taking in her words. “Life is short Mr. Nazario. Don’t be afraid to follow your heart or chase your dreams. I hope that you’ll encourage Ms. Joy to follow her dreams as well. I have a very strong feeling that she will do well on this interview. Piquant Press would be fortunate to have a woman with her talents.” With a final nod to Damien, Cora exited the office. Westchester, Oregon Minutes after speaking with Damien, Cora collapsed down into an overstuffed chair in her living room. Her body wasn’t used to astral projection, let alone doing it three times in repeating days. She needed time to rest and recover, but she hoped that her efforts to keep the sisters apart and safe proved fruitful. *** (To be continued)

#choices fanfic #playchoices #choices fandom #it lives in the woods #perfect match #lovehacks #choices blood bound

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roman-catholic-mass-readings · 5 years

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11th August >> Mass Readings (Europe, Africa, New Zealand, Australia & Canada)

Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle C

(Liturgical Colour: Green)

First Reading

Wisdom 18:6-9

You made us glorious by calling us to you

That night had been foretold to our ancestors, so that,

once they saw what kind of oaths they had put their trust in,

they would joyfully take courage.

This was the expectation of your people,

the saving of the virtuous and the ruin of their enemies;

for by the same act with which you took vengeance on our foes

you made us glorious by calling us to you.

The devout children of worthy men offered sacrifice in secret

and this divine pact they struck with one accord:

that the saints would share the same blessings and dangers alike;

and forthwith they had begun to chant the hymns of the fathers.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm

Psalm 32(33):1,12,18-20,22

R/ Happy are the people the Lord has chosen as his own.

Ring out your joy to the Lord, O you just;

for praise is fitting for loyal hearts.

They are happy, whose God is the Lord,

the people he has chosen as his own.

R/ Happy are the people the Lord has chosen as his own.

The Lord looks on those who revere him,

on those who hope in his love,

to rescue their souls from death,

to keep them alive in famine.

R/ Happy are the people the Lord has chosen as his own.

Our soul is waiting for the Lord.

The Lord is our help and our shield.

May your love be upon us, O Lord,

as we place all our hope in you.

R/ Happy are the people the Lord has chosen as his own.

Second Reading

Hebrews 11:1-2,8-19

Abraham looked forward to a city founded, designed and built by God

Only faith can guarantee the blessings that we hope for, or prove the existence of the realities that at present remain unseen. It was for faith that our ancestors were commended.

It was by faith that Abraham obeyed the call to set out for a country that was the inheritance given to him and his descendants, and that he set out without knowing where he was going. By faith he arrived, as a foreigner, in the Promised Land, and lived there as if in a strange country, with Isaac and Jacob, who were heirs with him of the same promise. They lived there in tents while he looked forward to a city founded, designed and built by God.

It was equally by faith that Sarah, in spite of being past the age, was made able to conceive, because she believed that he who had made the promise would be faithful to it. Because of this, there came from one man, and one who was already as good as dead himself, more descendants than could be counted, as many as the stars of heaven or the grains of sand on the seashore.

All these died in faith, before receiving any of the things that had been promised, but they saw them in the far distance and welcomed them, recognising that they were only strangers and nomads on earth. People who use such terms about themselves make it quite plain that they are in search of their real homeland. They can hardly have meant the country they came from, since they had the opportunity to go back to it; but in fact they were longing for a better homeland, their heavenly homeland. That is why God is not ashamed to be called their God, since he has founded the city for them.

It was by faith that Abraham, when put to the test, offered up Isaac. He offered to sacrifice his only son even though the promises had been made to him and he had been told: It is through Isaac that your name will be carried on. He was confident that God had the power even to raise the dead; and so, figuratively speaking, he was given back Isaac from the dead.

The Word of the Lord

Thanks be to God.

Gospel Acclamation

Matthew 11:25

Alleluia, alleluia!

Blessed are you, Father,

Lord of heaven and earth,

for revealing the mysteries of the kingdom

to mere children.

Alleluia!

Or:

Matthew 24:42 44

Alleluia, alleluia!

Stay awake and stand ready,

because you do not know the hour

when the Son of Man is coming.

Alleluia!

Gospel

Luke 12:32-48

You too must stand ready

Jesus said to his disciples: ‘There is no need to be afraid, little flock, for it has pleased your Father to give you the kingdom.

‘Sell your possessions and give alms. Get yourselves purses that do not wear out, treasure that will not fail you, in heaven where no thief can reach it and no moth destroy it. For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.

‘See that you are dressed for action and have your lamps lit. Be like men waiting for their master to return from the wedding feast, ready to open the door as soon as he comes and knocks. Happy those servants whom the master finds awake when he comes. I tell you solemnly, he will put on an apron, sit them down at table and wait on them. It may be in the second watch he comes, or in the third, but happy those servants if he finds them ready. You may be quite sure of this, that if the householder had known at what hour the burglar would come, he would not have let anyone break through the wall of his house. You too must stand ready, because the Son of Man is coming at an hour you do not expect.’

Peter said, ‘Lord, do you mean this parable for us, or for everyone?’ The Lord replied, ‘What sort of steward, then, is faithful and wise enough for the master to place him over his household to give them their allowance of food at the proper time? Happy that servant if his master’s arrival finds him at this employment. I tell you truly, he will place him over everything he owns. But as for the servant who says to himself, “My master is taking his time coming,” and sets about beating the menservants and the maids, and eating and drinking and getting drunk, his master will come on a day he does not expect and at an hour he does not know. The master will cut him off and send him to the same fate as the unfaithful.

The servant who knows what his master wants, but has not even started to carry out those wishes, will receive very many strokes of the lash. The one who did not know, but deserves to be beaten for what he has done, will receive fewer strokes. When a man has had a great deal given him, a great deal will be demanded of him; when a man has had a great deal given him on trust, even more will be expected of him.’

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

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the-ships-to-rule-them-all · 6 years

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21!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

two of my favorites moments of this year, going to comic con and getting to meet Colin with my cousin @dashing-rapscallions (who is the greatest person) and meeting some of my favorite authors and then going to HVFF again, having David remember me, meeting some amazing people, getting to spend time with my mom AND BEING IN A OLICITY SANDWITCH.

my favorite people on the planet, the ones who make my universe brighter just by existing

@goodqueenalys I am so completely and utterly grateful that I had the courage to send you that message Mere. You are one of the smartest most genuine humans I’ve ever met. I am in awe of the way you have nothing but kindness in your heart and that at the same time your spine is pure solid steel. your strength in your convictions, your passion, your willingness to educate, your creativity, the way you listen, the way you care. I am so so glad to call you my friend and to have you by my side.

@blyedeeks SOUL TWIN!!! can you believe that we only met 2 years ago? it feels like we’ve known each other our entire lives. Sometimes you meet someone who can understand you in ways that don’t seem real because they get you on such a deep level. I think I said something like that last year but it’s still so true. And you are the kindest more brilliant star in sky Cams. I truly don’t know where I’d be without you, definitely not as confident or as loud. I love you a lot and I am so blessed to have your kindness and positivity on my side.

@marauders-groupie Lana’s words are spun starlight, she just captures something so instinctively human and tender with her poetry. She’s one of the kindest people in the world and she serves the universe. Oh, and she is determined and dedicated and passionate and she just believes so strongly in the goodness of a single person, in her own value that I can’t help but believe in myself more because of her strength and courage and beauty.

@gabrielledelacour Caroline!!! my girl, my wonderful amazing girl. I cannot believe that I was your Tumblr crush. There’s such a softness to your words, a willingness to share and that all too familiar desire to love and be loved in return. the fact that you send me stuff about my hockey boys legit has made me cry because you take such an interest in me and I just I feel so warm when we talk, I love that your life is so wonderful and yet mundane, I love hearing about your day and I love watching you believe in yourself

@gustinfucker BABE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! the amount that I love you is beyond words. You are so passionate and sweet and if I could save your messages when reacting to my poetry to just constantly brighten my day I would because every time I remember how you react I feel so inspired and worthy. I feel like my life isn’t right when I don’t talk to you and I’m so grateful that we both shipped Poly Rangers and got to sharing headcanons and writing fic and you are so talented and wonderful. it seems impossible that we only met last year. Your willingness to put up with my rants and the way you support me and love me is the greatest feeling in the world

@abazethe100 Anna!!!!! I’m so glad that you are so busy even if it means that we don’t really ever talk, I love you so much and the moments where we get to just do deep dives into this show that we love so much are one that I hold incredibly close. you are so intelligent and wonderful

@sometimesrosy there’s something to be said about having someone who has lived a life believe in you. I feel like I can go to you for anything, Rosy. You are so so smart that sometimes I read your answers and it takes me a minute to reorient myself.

@everybodyknows-everybodydies my soulmate, god I’m so jealous you are back in the place where we began but I’m so utterly proud of the person I’ve seen you becoming over the past year. You are so talented, so talented and you are so tiny and cute that sometimes I can’t believe how much passion you have in your body. Your art, your convictions, your passion, it’s so beautiful to see and I love you so so much

@clarkebell the fact that I get to read Karly’s work, the fact that I encourage her brilliance is something I hold as one of my greatest contributions to humankind. Not to mention that she is absolutely gorgeous, inside and out. She is funny and smart and passionate and I love her a lot. Thank you for making my year so great babe!

@thesnowyswan my darling Rae!!!! you have made me a so much better writer, a so much better person and I love you so so much. thank you for all your support and encouragement and I love talking any and everything with you. you are such an utter badass and passionate and dedicated and I can’t wait to meet you!

other people who are absolutely incredible and whom I adore so so much

@harpermcintyre (Al, babe thank you for always being kind and generous) @clarkeseden (Scarlet you are so talented and genuine, I love you a lot) @kazghaffa (for introducing me to Six of Crows and being so hilarious) @scodelariokaya (Nik is brilliant and beautiful and she deserves the universe) @martinlydia (G!!!!!!!! I’m so so grateful to have you in my life, you are so talented and wonderful and I’m so glad that stydia brought us together) @wellsjahasghost (Jade is remarkable and funny and her words are spun gold) @mego42 (Meg is one of the smartest, calmest people on this site and she deserves only good things) @wellamyblake (MJ makes me laugh on the daily and her understanding of nuances is only matched by her passion) @thatonekimgirl (Kim!! when we met at HVFF I didn’t think that we’d end up linking back so soon, thank you for dragging me into the spiral that is loving VirtueMoir) @bellamysprincessa (Katie, I love you. I love that you are so supportive and I adore that we always seem to watch the same shows as you scream about something in the chat) @head-and-heart (Kate is a gem, a smart supportive gem of a human whose tags I live for) @deadshotbellamy (Grace is a gorgeous girl who has two of the greatest urls I’ve ever seen) @thelovelylights (Jen is a badass, a beautiful badass but yeah, her best quality is that she is strong in her convictions and passionate about the things she chooses to give her heart to) @clarkebellamy (Karo, you are so incredibly talented, like you make magic with my words and I hate that timezones make it impossible to really talk but know that I love you a lot) @jynersos (Cody, you are so talented and smart and I cannot wait to meet you next semester and just hang out and be IN LONDON) @montygreen (Leila, you are so talented and wonderful and I love you so much and your gifsets are so beautiful they take my breath away) @ohmypreciousgirl (to think that five years ago your blog was one of the first that I followed, that your passion and intelligence were a reason I even joined Tumblr in the first place, the fact that we are friends, that we talk a lot is still shocking to me. I’m so grateful to you)

the writers who own my heart, whose ao3 pages I'm constantly refreshing, who make me fall in love with these characters all over again

@deadcatwithaflamethrower (HER WORLDBUILDING IS TO DIE FOR, she just is constantly reinventing the universes that she plays in and reinventing my own opinions of characters by making them so much more complex) @so-caffeinated/ @dust2dust34 (their verse of FICON is one of the most awe-inspiring things I have ever read and it’s funny and sweet and action-packed and so full of family feels. I fangirled so much when I met Bre at HVFF, it was great and I just, they are so talented and I love writing poetry inspired by their writing) @rongasm (Rachel creates such works of art for Stydia and Percabeth and they are tender and touching and I could read the Harry Potter au for the rest of my life) @lottswrites (Lotts has such a way with dialogue and scenes and masterfully portraying universal emotions. They are funny and amazing and I’m really grateful for their encouragement) @ticogirls (SO FUNNY AND TALENTED, her gifsets are beautiful, her opinions are fire and Mel’s writing just makes me grin) @welllpthisishappening (Laura is a master at creating perfect pieces that I didn’t realize I wanted, she’s so talented and passionate and her stories just cause me to have such a massive grin on my face and she definitely reignited my love of CS) @ink-splotch (creates such masterpieces of Harry Potter and Marvel in terms of character study and what ifs and it’s just, I sometimes read them and cry but also rejoice) @lostcap (Phia’s poetry is pure spun sunshine and steel, there’s such a force to her words as though she is channelling the greek muses and the moment that she named me as one of her favorite tumblr poets is quite possibly one of my greatest accomplishments)

some other amazing people who have made this year spectacular

@bellameblake @bellsblake @bellblake @asexual-mechanic @apirateslifeforsmee @jahaliel @flynnintime @molliiholmes @nerdybellamy @prosciuttoe @jbuffyangel @turtlejustice @junebugninja @scottsvirtue @clarissasjace @missemarissa @rashaka @dangerous--waters @griffndors @blarkebitch @grumpybell @kindclaws @ravenbellclarke @dreamcourtrhys @flydestiel @stydixa @ofnailbatsandaxefives @llysandra @whoeveryoulovethemost @impvlsivee @stilesprefers-screamers @readymachine @bellarketm @clxrkblakee @warriorsaralance

#abby speaks #abby celebrates 21

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cfijerusalem · 3 years

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KEEPING OUR EYES ON THE WHEAT FIELDS

Another parable He put forth to them, saying: "The kingdom of heaven is like a man who sowed good seed in his field; but while men slept, his enemy came and sowed tares among the wheat and went his way. But when the grain had sprouted and produced a crop, then the tares also appeared. So the servants of the owner came and said to him, 'Sir, did you not sow good seed in your field? How then does it have tares?' He said to them, ‘An enemy has done this.' The servants said to him, 'Do you want us then to go and gather them up?' But he said, ‘No, lest while you gather up the tares you also uproot the wheat with them. Let both grow together until the harvest, and at the time of harvest I will say to the reapers, First gather together the tares and bind them in bundles to burn them, but gather the wheat into my barn Matthew' " 13:24-43.

Our learning today is about the most important of the Seven Species of the Land: wheat. In Hebrew we say ‘chi-ta’. The sound that is transliterated does not exist for ‘ch’, so try the throaty sound “h” from the back of the throat. From wheat comes bread-food for the hungry. The Hebrew word for tares (weeds) is ‘esev rah’ which need to be controlled in any field from taking over the wheat. I used to watch my father when I was a child walking his wheat fields pulling out the weeds from their roots so that his field would be clean. He had to be careful to not uproot the wheat.

At Passover time in Israel we do not eat bread with ‘hametz’ (symbolic of sin). As my Jewish friend and I study the Bible we are looking at more meanings behind the words. It is interesting that Jesus (Yeshua) tells us that we are to let the wheat and tares grow together in the end times. In Genesis 1 and 2, God created the universe. He said His creation was “very good” (‘tov meod’ in Hebrew). On the third day when He created the plants such as wheat, He said “very good” again because He knew the wheat needed to do its duty to produce bread. However, when Adam and Eve sinned and it was seen in Heaven, the wheat no longer produced only wheat but it was found growing with tares (because of sin). It is thought that the roses were without thorns before the sin of Adam and Eve. Everything changed, animals began eating one another, and the wheat was growing with tares. Jesus is saying that the first couple in the garden sinned, the tares began to grow and will continue, until He arrives to fix all that went wrong. Before eating the fruit, both man and woman were of pure mind and heart. This is what Jesus desires for His Kingdom which is coming to the earth, pure hearts and minds. We see Jesus teaching us that tares and wheat “look” pretty much alike, but the Lord will determine at that time whether He truly knows each believer or not. “But I will reply, ‘I never knew you. Get away from me, you who break God’s laws’” (Matthew 7:23). When He comes, He will solve the problem of sin mixed with those of pure hearts – He will judge. All creation needs the Lord since Adam and Eve. When He comes He will gather into His “barn” (His Kingdom) pure bread for the Kingdom, without “hametz” (sin). May our lives show us daily whether we still have some “hametz” in our hearts toward others, motives and behavior in our walk with God.

Let Us Enter the Throne Room of Grace

Pray for rain for the Land. Even without the expected winter rainfall, the Land is very beautiful and the Sea of Galilee very full; however, we do need the seasonal rain in order to maintain the amount of rain in the Sea of Galilee and other smaller lakes and reservoirs. Amidst Covid, the Land remains beautiful to behold in the valleys, hillsides and vales. “I will send you the seasonal rains. The land will then yield its crops, and the trees of the field will produce their fruit” (Leviticus 26:4).

Intercede fervently for Israel’s government leaders that God would give the system He wants and which is right for Israel. May the Biblical concept of leadership emerge among the present candidates. As God separates the wheat and the chaff now more than ever before, wherever there is darkness ruling, let it be exposed, and may Godly leaders emerge. “You shall appoint for yourself judges and officers in all your towns which the Lord your God is giving you, according to your tribes, and they shall judge the people with righteous judgment” (Deuteronomy 16:18).

Thank God for more Muslim believers in the Middle East countries but pray for the persecuted Christians in Iran, Iraq, Syria and around the Middle East. “Do you remember what I told you? ‘A slave is not greater than the master.’ Since they persecuted me, naturally they will persecute you. And if they had listened to me, they would listen to you” (John 15:20).

Beseech God to remove from the United Nations the hateful nations that are passing many resolutions against Israel (many in 2020) than any other nations. “His words are as smooth as butter, but in his heart is war. His words are as soothing as lotion, but underneath are daggers!” (Psalm 55:21).

Proclaim His Word that “every jot and title” which the Lord told us would come to pass in the Torah will do so in these end times, bringing Israel through all of her struggles and giants that face her and bringing her back to Him with not one atheist in the House of Israel. “I tell you the truth, until heaven and earth disappear, not even the smallest detail of God’s law will disappear until its purpose is achieved” (Matthew 5:18).

Rejoice in Him that we are getting closer to His Return. Now as He sat on the Mount of Olives, the disciples came to Him privately, saying, "Tell us, when will these things be? And what will be the sign of Your coming, and of the end of the age?” (Matthew 24:3). Today we have more signs each and every week confirming His Soon Return.

Ask God to change hearts as Hamas lead its first-ever joint military exercise with Gaza terror factions recently making their plans against Israel. “Call your councils of war, but they will be worthless. Develop your strategies, but they will not succeed. For God is with us!” (Isaiah 8:10).

Close in prayer with asking God to help us all “Watch and Pray” as He asked us to do as we near the Coming of the Lord and His Kingdom rule. We must remember that the antichrist kingdom is also rising. We must be ready for whatever comes as we live day-to-day, one day at a time, waiting for His Return. With His Return will be the “rising of Israel” to enlighten the entire world. “But take heed to yourselves, lest your hearts be weighed down with carousing, drunkenness, and cares of this life, and that Day come on you unexpectedly. For it will come as a snare on all those who dwell on the face of the whole earth. Watch therefore, and pray always that you may be counted worthy to escape all these things that will come to pass, and to stand before the Son of man” (Luke 21:34-36).

May the Lord bless each of you wherever you are. Many use the Watchman’s Prayer Letter around the world. It is a privilege to write and be in touch with all of you. Thank you for including Christian Friends of Israel in Jerusalem and around the world in your prayers, that God will sustain us, strengthen us, expand the vision and cause us to be more fruitful than ever before, even in dark times. With your help and prayers, we will move through tough times together.

Working Together for Him,

Sharon Sanders

Christian Friends of Israel - Jerusalem

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cookieswriting · 7 years

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“Run and Save Yourself!” (SSC/Rosvolio One-Shot)

Benvolio Montague wondered how he managed to stumble into these messes so often. Apparently Truchio had not been the only one working for their mystery mastermind; the masked man before him was a much better swordsman, and was relentless in his attack. Gramio, a bitter cousin of Rosaline’s, stood nearby, watching the battle and taunting Benvolio like the coward he was. The Montague leapt nimbly up to the stone ledge overlooking a pool of water to avoid a vicious swing. His attacker followed suit, and Benvolio counted himself blessed to have excellent balance. Even so, the man before him was not abiding by rules of honor, and had given Benvolio no time to gain his bearings. He parried another blow, and was caught offguard when his free hand collided with his ribs. With a low grunt, Benvolio stumbled backwards, heart leaping into his throat when his foot slipped off of the ledge.

“Benvolio!” The cry from the other end of the courtyard spurred the Montague to twist himself and land somewhat gracefully facedown, which allowed him to force himself back to his feet instantly. The attacker had heard Rosaline too, and had dropped to the ground to start towards her.

With a roar, Benvolio leapt forward and tackled him from behind. Once he was sure he had a hold of the stranger, he allowed himself to look up at his betrothed, terror clear on her face. “Capulet, for the love of God, run and save yourself!”

Stars exploded in his eyes when an elbow connected with his face, and before Benvolio could regain his grip fire erupted across his chest. The man shoved him back, and he could not fight against the gravity that left him collapsing onto his back. As his attacker rose to his feet, attention solely on the wounded man on the ground, Benvolio fought to catch his breath. Gramio cackled from just behind the masked man, but Benvolio could not make out his words. Glancing around, he realized his sword had fallen feet away. With one hand pressed against the bloody wound on his chest, he scrambled for the weapon, until it was snatched away from his grasp. His attacker loomed over him, black mask taunting, and Benvolio found himself praying that Rosaline had - for once - listened to him without question. He did not want her to witness his death...not like this.

Death never came, though...instead, Benvolio watched in horror as the man turned and buried his sword in Gramio’s belly. Without looking back to Benvolio, the attacker released the sword, still embedded in the Capulet, and darted off into the shadows. “S-stop!” Benvolio cried. He struggled to push himself upright, clenching his jaw against the fire burning in his chest.

A scream drew Benvolio’s attention, and an older woman stood at the entrance into the courtyard with a hand to her mouth. “Murderer!” she accused, pointing to Benvolio. He desperately looked back to Gramio, and shook his head in denial, but when he looked back to the entryway the woman was gone.

Spent, and resigned to the fact that he’d never make it up and away before the Royal Guard arrived, Benvolio collapsed back to the ground. Suddenly, gentle hands were on his face and shoulder. Rosaline. “Capulet...you’re not supposed to be here…”

“Hush, save your breath,” she insisted, eyes fixed on his injury and fingers carefully drawing his doublet away to get a better look. Tears were pooling in her eyes, and Benvolio reached up to weakly brush them away. “We have to get you to the Friar...he’ll fix this.”

“Friar Lawrence...has been banished from Verona. You have to go, Rosaline,” he breathed tiredly. “A maid came across the fight after the masked man fled. I am falsely accused of murder, my lady...the Guard will be here in a moment.”

“No,” Rosaline growled. In spite of his weakness, he could not help the swell of pride and affection. Even in the face of such a dark situation, she maintained her ferocity and determination. Without another word, she slid her arm under his shoulders, and gave him no choice but to assist her the best that he could in getting him to his feet. He bit back a groan, trying to make sure her dress stayed away from the mess of his chest. The trek out of the courtyard was slow and breathtakingly painful on his part, and they managed to make it to the cover of trees just before the Guard arrived. Rosaline breathed a heavy sigh of relief, and turned to Benvolio with concerned eyes. “My father’s cottage is not far. Can you press on until we make it?”

A determined nod was his only response. Rosaline ducked smoothly under his arm, and he drew strength from her to continue on. By the time they made it to the cottage, his legs were trembling with each step, and she was taking on more of his weight than he could handle on his own. As soon as she guides him inside, she eases him down on a bed and brushes sweat-matted hair away from his forehead.

“I will return shortly with my sister...she will be able to tend to your wound, and we will determine what to do from there. I will not let you take the blame for a murder you did not commit.”

“You...speak with such confidence...yet you did not see your cousin slain.”

“My dear Benvolio, you claim innocence. That is enough for me.” She pressed a kiss to his forehead, startling him with her affection, and then rose to her feet. “Rest. We will make haste in our return, so long as you hold on.” He could only nod with a tired smile, and rested himself back, grateful for the comfort provided by the mattress.

As instructed, the young Montague took the opportunity during his beloved’s absence to rest. He drifted in and out of awareness for a while, woken from time to time by a particularly painful throb. It was a gentle hand to his shoulder that brought him back to steady wakefulness, but it was not the Capulet he expected to see leaning over him. Livia was staring at him, confused and concerned, and his own worry stabbed at his heart. “Rosaline?” he rasped.

“The Prince had a few...questions for her. You are a wanted man, Montague…” Her hesitation worried him, and his eyes turned to the door. “I do not know what happened, but my sister seems to believe you innocent, and her trust is enough for me. You will be safe here until Rosaline is able to get away from the Palace.” With that, she got to work cleaning and suturing the wound on his chest. She was gentle as she could be, and apologized when he groaned in pain. Once she finished and was able to apply a soothing poultice, she helped him to sit up so that she could wrap a bandage around his chest. A hand at his shoulder helped to ease him back down, and he nodded his thanks to her. “You are lucky, my lord, an inch deeper, and it would have been your death.”

Benvolio nodded, settling his palm over the bandage. “The man who truly slew Gramio was a masterful swordsman. Thank you, Lady Livia...I am sure it cannot be easy to trust a Montague, particularly one with such a serious accusation against him.”

Livia watched him silently for a moment, and then rose to her feet gracefully. “As I said, Rosaline’s trust in you is enough for me. She would not have brought you here were it not dire, and had she not deemed you worthy.” He looked around the room, finally able to take in their family’s home. “There are very few alive who know of this place. Not even the Prince is aware it exists...we spent our childhoods in this home.”

“Why did you not stay, even after the your parents were taken from you?” Benvolio whispered. Livia smiled sadly and shook her head.

“Forgive me, Signor Montague, but that is a story to be told by my sister.”

“And it will have to wait for another night. Escalus has ordered your execution for the murder of Gramio.” Benvolio and Livia were startled by Rosaline’s voice at the door. “He would not hear me, would not listen to reason. He has...called off the betrothal, asked me to marry him,” she whispered.

Jealousy swelled in Benvolio’s chest at her words, but it reaffirmed what he knew he would have to do. “You should return to him.” Rosaline stalked forward, shocked by his words and preparing to argue when he held up a hand to stop her. “I have to flee, my dear Capulet. Whether to clear my name or save my life, Verona is not safe for me at the moment.” He carefully pushed himself upright, and eventually to his feet before her. His hands came up to cradle both sides of her face tenderly. “If I know you are safe, cared for...that will be enough.”

As he should have expected, Rosaline responded with fiery determination. “You are a fool, Benvolio Montague, if you believe I will allow you to do this alone. You are injured. I am coming with you.”

“Rosaline!” Livia gasped.

“Absolutely not,” Benvolio hissed. “I’ll not risk you any further for this madman’s bloody plans to destroy Verona!”

Rosaline raised a challenging brow and crossed her arms over her chest. “And if you fail? If you are captured, or your wound becomes infected and you succumb to your injuries, and leave us without any proof that there is someone else plotting against our fair city, what then? Would I not be at risk along with everyone else anyway?” The two shared a heated glare, neither willing to concede, until Benvolio finally accepted that he would not change her mind.

“You will be the death of me, Capulet,” he grumbled.

“No, my lord, in this particular case, I will be the one to ensure the life of you. Come, we must away while we still can.” Without hesitation, she turned and yanked Livia against her chest in a tight hug. “Be careful, my sweet sister. Thank you, we will return. I love you.”

“I love you too, Rosaline. I will not tell a soul of what took place this evening. Be safe.”

Benvolio bowed respectfully to Livia and the pair snuck out into the night. He knew it would be a long and painful journey, but could not deny that Rosaline’s presence gave him the strength and motivation he needed to press on through the ache in his chest and find the answers that he so desperately needed.

#Still Star Crossed #ssc fanfiction #rosvolio #rosaline x benvolio #rosaline capulet #benvolio montague #livia capulet #scene speculation fic

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dexcidium · 7 years

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For all the times that...

{Based on @afleurdelish and my Gudao’s interactions...}

You know, after all this time… I haven’t gotten bored of this same beach. Walking past it on my way to work had its perks. Well, today was a special day. So it did feel a little different. The same sunrise over the coast hadn’t lost its touch either. It was always outstanding and beautiful; as was her smile.

Oh wow, I ended up back here? Well, it was bound to happen at some point in the day. This same road towards work always left me to my thoughts…. It was quite the blessing and the curse, really. Man… am I so glad to be able to have been able to witness it. Where was I? Right, her smile…

It was a smile that was I was so grateful for. Something that I was able to see every day. Her words were like the subtle calmness of the waves; and her beautiful locks shone brighter than any trinket or jewel. Often times, I’d just get reminded of what she looked like and that was enough to bring a bright smile to my face. Her sheer presence was something unlike any other… and for some reason, she had chosen to be my side for all that time. At that time, I was unable to comprehend that. Why me? Of all the heroes, the world’s finest… she settled for someone as boring and worthless as me. Well, I don’t quite think that about myself now. She gave me all I need to be whole. She taught me how to smile with a radiance like her’s. She imparted with me the knowledge of good will and sacrifice… Though, she had insisted that I already had all that I needed to be all that but, I still believe that I couldn’t have been at my best for all those years without her encouragement. She really knew how to get it through my thick skull that I’m really worth it… and I guess that was when I realised that I wanted her to be at my side for the rest of my days.

In turn, I gave it all. Not just for her. No, I’m not that sappy. I still had an obligation to the world. But her support was very much appreciated. And hey, we all need someone like her in our lives. She illuminated the way, and I simply walked alongside her towards our goal. Every step of the way. And it worked for us. That was ‘us’. That was our relationship. But we quickly realised that the relationship was just ‘us’ licking each other’s wounds. Covering up our mistakes, but never fixing it.

You know in a way, we were both the same being. Not in the sense that we had the same origin, but rather when the moment arose, we were both sent out by some higher power to save what we loved. Both at the same age too, actually… it was quite strange. So I think – no, I know that she saw a bit of herself in me. Perhaps she regretted what had happened to her? No, she didn’t regret anything in her life. Every bit of herself, she gave upon to them. Those people… they were ungrateful. But by the time they realised that she did do everything not for herself, but for the greater good and what she truly believed in; it had already been a decade too late.

And like I said… she saw a bit of herself in me at that time. She may not have wanted me to have same fate as her. Really… she worried too much. I truly believed that everyone at that certain place was enough to validate my existence. Proof that I, alongside them, saved the world. Even if all my records of saving the world was erased to prevent what she had feared… it was more than I deserved. I was just there to anchor everyone to the world. No, no, no, no… I shouldn’t think like that. I was there to lead everyone. To gain an understanding and to unite everyone under one banner. And with her words and help, I began to realise that that was in fact my purpose. I was… so grateful to her. I owed her all I had… and I was willing to give it all to her.

I love her.

And she loved me back.

Those words, her smile, and those eyes… they were all genuine. She and I… we were protecting a world where we could be together. That was the conclusion we came to. But we weren’t without bumps along our way to that conclusion. I went through absolute hell to get it through her equally thick head that she deserved the world, just as I deserved her love and support. Really… she had put me through much. This might sound like a crappy thing to say but… it was tougher than my journey to save the world. But I know why.

Making her realise that she wasn’t just a tool was difficult, because she wasn’t there by my side. How could she be? It wasn’t the world that I was trying to save at that time. I didn’t have her, and everyone else’s support… this time I was alone. And I had to do it alone. I had to save her from herself.

And after such a long time, without her… I grew. I grew into my own person. Someone that wasn’t so dependant on her. Someone whose whole existence wasn’t validated by her sheer existence. Someone that could walk tall and proud… so that this time, I could support her. It had been an unintended outcome of her self-deprecation and stubbornness to accept that she was more than what she thought. But you know what? I was even more stubborn than she was… and so, I finally got through to her. And we had a happy ending – that’s right! This story has a happy ending

Now, we have two kids. A home, and I have a stable job. Of course I still worked at Chaldea. Just at a different branch. That’s right, we expanded! We’re all over the world. And I was the head of all things master-related. Though that whole part me saving the world was erased from the records of history, all I needed was the words of validation from them. My beloved servants. My beloved junior. My beloved mentor. My beloved colleagues.

And my beloved Jeanne.

“…Heh…”

I wish that that’s what had happened. In reality… all that was true with a few key exceptions. Chaldea had expanded world wide. I was indeed the head of anything master related. I did have a home… but I lived alone. She wasn’t there with me. As much as I wished for it. As much as I wish that didn’t have any regrets… I had to fight for Chaldea to continue. And what that required… was everything that I feared.

In any conflict, there were always sides. And unfortunately, I had been at the side where I had to sacrifice everything that I held dear…

My servants.

Some had wanted to continue existing. A fight ensued. I had to put some of them down. The bonds that grew over years, and years… shattered into dust as if it were nothing. It was all that mage’s association’s fault… they had feared my power. They had feared that very same bond that I shattered. They gave me an ultimatum. Get rid of all my servants… or Chaldea itself would cease to exist. But the world needed Chaldea. Its purpose would need to continue until the end of time and the existence of everything there is itself. There was always a need for heroes.

If I followed my heart, I would have chosen to win and take everything. But what that meant was the possibility of billions of innocents getting involved in the worst war that the modern world had ever seen… these servants of mine were capable of that power. I knew. We couldn’t… we were heroes. And so, some decided to leave on their own accord. Those that refused to leave had to be put down… and I made sure to watch all their final moments. Some said their goodbyes, others left wordlessly and I wish that we all parted without regrets but… that wasn’t the case. To some, I betrayed them. And I think that feeling of failing to meet their expectations hurt the most.

My family… it had been torn apart. By these very hands. Hands that would never hold anything ever again.

And then, it was just us. Jeanne, and I. The love that had accumulated over the years…

Our final moments together. I remember it like it was yesterday. She didn’t have regrets feeling that love, and I felt the same. The warmth of her body… the teary look in her eye… her shaking voice… the softness of her lips on mine… and her final words.

“Thank you”

No, they weren’t ‘I love you’… but we said that through all our actions. I believe, even up to this day that I gave her the normalcy that she had so crave in her teenage and adult life… the part of her life that she had deserved. And truly we were happy. Even if the possibility of children was never there, even if we never got married… it was all there. The ‘us’ that was such toxicity wasn’t there. It hadn’t been there for so long.

It was simply Gudao Shimazaki and Jeanne D’arc.

Jeanne D’arc and Gudao Shimazaki.

Two people that existed. Two people that loved. Two people that were part of an even bigger happy family.

We were both satisfied. Even if it was only for a few years, we had nearly everything we wanted. Again, I wish I could say that I left that day without regrets but… I truly wish to do what typical couples would do.

Get married.

Have a honeymoon.

Have children of our own.

Have our fights here and there but at the end of the day, we would still love each other.

Watch our children grow up as we raise them as best we could.

Then grow old ourselves…

But all of that was never possible in the first place. I knew that going in. But everything else… I had achieved. And now…

“All right, new recruits! Welcome to Chaldea: Osaka. I’m the Grand Master, Gudao Shimazaki. You are the first batch of masters since I first became a master myself around fifteen years ago... Well, there was some complications and I was the only master for a long time… But never mind all that boring history. I have but one question for all of you…”

A smile formed on his face, one that he hadn’t bore since saying goodbye.

“I ask thee… are you worthy to be masters?”

And now, my life continues. I will live not just for her, but for everyone else that granted me this life of mine.

Jeanne… I will always love you. No matter if your memories of me fade into nothingness….Know that you will always have a place in this full heart of mine. And I know that in those last moments that you felt the same… and that was everything that we both deserved. I’m so happy to have known you… loved you… and walked alongside you… However, now, here I stand… the man that I am because of you, and everyone else. But to you, and especially you…

Thank you…

#[...drabbles]#afleurdelish #[...you are my dream || Jeanne D'arc]#{aksdgkasdh THIS TOOK ME LIKE 2 HOURS BUT YA'LL NEED TO SUFFER WITH ME}#long post

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pamphletstoinspire · 5 years

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Mary, Mother of God: The Theotokos

The Solemnity of Mary, Mother of God - Day Celebrated: January 1, Holy Day of Obligation.

What Is the Feast About?

One of the most important dogmatic Marian teachings of our faith is that Mary is the Mother of God. This title of “Theotokos” or “God-Bearer” testifies to the fundamental reality of the Incarnation: the Person of the Son assumed to Himself a human nature; He is fully God and fully Man. The Catechism of the Catholic Church explains that:

Called in the Gospels “the mother of Jesus”, Mary is acclaimed by Elizabeth, at the prompting of the Spirit and even before the birth of her son, as “the mother of my Lord”. In fact, the One whom she conceived as man by the Holy Spirit, who truly became her Son according to the flesh, was none other than the Father’s eternal Son, the second person of the Holy Trinity. Hence the Church confesses that Mary is truly “Mother of God” (Theotokos).

Mary’s Divine motherhood follows from the fact that her son, Jesus, is truly God and truly Man, as the Gospel writers attest (c.f. Matthew 1:18-25, Luke 1:26-38, John 1: 1-18).

Nor were the earliest Church Fathers shy to recognize Mary as the Mother of God. St. Irenaeus, who lived during the second century, wrote in his work Against Heresies that the “Virgin Mary, being obedient to His word, received glad tidings that she should bear God” (5:19:1). Later, St. Ambrose invited his readers to consider the life of Mary by asking themselves “What is greater than the Mother of God? What is more glorious than she whom Glory Itself chose?” (Concerning Virgins II.ii.7) In his Letter to Cledonius the Priest, St. Gregory Nazianzen explicitly ties the truth of the hypostatic union of Christ’s divinity and humanity to the truth of Mary’s motherhood, writing “If anyone does not believe that Holy Mary is the Mother of God, he is severed from the Godhead.”

The Council of Ephesus in 431 A.D. explicitly takes up the question of Mary as the Theotokos. In this Council the Church addressed the Nestorian heresy by proclaiming that Mary’s Divine motherhood directly follows from the truth of the Incarnation. In short, the Nestorian heresy overemphasized the distinction between Christ’s Divine and Human Natures, leading those who held this position to claim that while Mary might be the “Christ-Bearer” in that she bore Christ with regards to his Humanity, she was not the “God-Bearer” or Mother of God. In refuting this claim, it is worth paying attention to three key proclamations the Council Fathers make:

1. We too ought to follow these words and these teachings and consider what is meant by saying that the Word from God took flesh and became man. For we do not say that the nature of the Word was changed and became flesh, nor that he was turned into a whole man made of body and soul. Rather do we claim that the Word in an unspeakable, inconceivable manner united to himself hypostatically flesh enlivened by a rational soul, and so became man and was called son of man, not by God’s will alone or good pleasure, nor by the assumption of a person alone. Rather did two different natures come together to form a unity, and from both arose one Christ, one Son. It was not as though the distinctness of the natures was destroyed by the union, but divinity and humanity together made perfect for us one Lord and one Christ, together marvelously and mysteriously combining to form a unity. So he who existed and was begotten of the Father before all ages is also said to have been begotten according to the flesh of a woman…The Word is said to have been begotten according to the flesh, because for us and for our salvation he united what was human to himself hypostatically and came forth from a woman.

2. Therefore, because the holy virgin bore in the flesh God who was united hypostatically with the flesh, for that reason we call her mother of God, not as though the nature of the Word had the beginning of its existence from the flesh (for “the Word was in the beginning and the Word was God and the Word was with God”, and he made the ages and is coeternal with the Father and craftsman of all things), but because, as we have said, he united to himself hypostatically the human and underwent a birth according to the flesh from her womb.

3. If anyone does not confess that Emmanuel is God in truth, and therefore that the holy virgin is the mother of God (for she bore in a fleshly way the Word of God become flesh), let him be anathema.

There are some today who deny that Mary is the Mother of God, for example our Protestant brothers and sisters, who do so out of fear that calling her mother of God preempts God the Father’s role as generator of the Son. It is helpful to note as the Council Fathers do, that Mary is not the one who generates the Son insofar as He is the Second Person of the Trinity. Rather, Mary’s Divine motherhood is in fact consequent on the Incarnation of the Son: because the Son, Who assumed to His Person a Human Nature such that He is fully God and fully Man, became flesh, the mother of Him according to the flesh is not some partial mother, but rather mother of the whole, who is God and Man. Thus, Mary is truly called the Mother of God, not as if she generated the Trinity, but because she gave birth to the Son Who is fully God and fully Man. This is why the Council Fathers are so insistent on Mary being understood as the Theotokos: because to deny her Divine motherhood is to deny the full reality of the Incarnation.

Once again we see the beauty of the image of Mary as the moon, for like the moon which reflects the light of the sun, so Mary constantly reflects and points back to her Son. When we honor Mary in feasts and titles, when we meditate on her role in salvation history, she constantly draws us beyond herself to her Son. To honor Mary does not take away from Christ, rather, it opens up a vista from which we can better understand the wondrous love which led Him to come and unite us to Himself.

When Did the Church Begin Celebrating It?

This feast is the oldest Marian feast in the Church, and has traditionally been celebrated within the octave of Christ’s birth. The Eastern Church, around 500 AD, began to celebrate a “Day of the Theotokos” around the time of Christmas. This celebration ultimately became a Marian feast celebrated on December 26th (in the Byzantine Church) and on January 16th (in the Coptic Church).

While the Roman Church had strongly emphasized marking the octave day of Christmas for Mary since ~600 A.D., it wasn’t until much later, in Portugal that an initiative began seeking to proclaim a specific feast of Mary’s Divine Maternity. This led to Pope Benedict XIV decreeing in 1751 that Mary’s Divine Maternity would be celebrated the first Sunday of May.

As the years passed, more countries and congregations sought and were granted approval to celebrate this feast in their own liturgical calendars. In 1914, the celebration of this feast had shifted to October 11, and in 1931 Mary’s Divine Maternity was declared a universal feast. Finally, the feast was moved back to the octave of Christmas thanks to the Second Vatican Council, and has been celebrated on January 1 since 1969. As Pope Paul VI wrote about the shift,

In the revised ordering of the Christmas period it seems to us that the attention of all should be directed towards the restored Solemnity of Mary the holy Mother of God. This celebration, placed on January 1 in conformity with the ancient indication of the liturgy of the City of Rome, is meant to commemorate the part played by Mary in this mystery of salvation. It is meant also to exalt the singular dignity which this mystery brings to the “holy Mother…through whom we were found worthy to receive the Author of life.”(17) It is likewise a fitting occasion for renewing adoration of the newborn Prince of Peace, for listening once more to the glad tidings of the angels (cf. Lk. 2:14), and for imploring from God, through the Queen of Peace, the supreme gift of peace. It is for this reason that, in the happy concurrence of the Octave of Christmas and the first day of the year, we have instituted the World Day of Peace, an occasion that is gaining increasing support and already bringing forth fruits of peace in the hearts of many.

Prayers for the Feast:

The Akathist Hymn to the Blessed Virgin Mary

It is becoming for you, O Mary, to be mindful of us, as you stand near Him who bestowed upon you all graces, for you are the Mother of God and our Queen. Come to our aid for the sake of the King, the Lord God and Master Who was born of you. For this reason you are called “full of grace.”

Be mindful of us, most holy Virgin, and bestow on us gifts from the riches of your graces, O Virgin, full of grace. – St. Athanasius

We honor you, O Mary, Mother of God, treasure of the universe, inextinguishable flame, crown of virginity, scepter of the true faith, indestructible temple, tabernacle of the one whom the world cannot contain, and mother and virgin. …

In your virginal womb you enclosed the immense and incomprehensible One.

Through you the Trinity is glorified and the cross is celebrated and adored everywhere on earth.

Through you the heavens exult with joy, the angels and archangels are glad, demons are put to flight, the demon tempter is cast out of heaven, and our fallen nature has again been assumed into heaven. …

It is through you that the only-begotten Son of God, who is the Light, shone amid the nations who were seated in darkness and the shadow of death.

What human voice can ever worthily celebrate the ineffable greatness of Mary?

She is mother and virgin at the same time.

Through her peace has been restored to the world.

What peace?

Our Lord Jesus Christ, whom Mary has brought forth! – St. Cyril of Alexandria

Written by: MARINA S. BRUNGARDT

#mary mother of god

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comebeforegod · 5 years

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Knowing Jesus Christ: The Lord Jesus’ Disposition Is Not Just Merciful and Loving

By Lanlan

The Bible says, “Through the tender mercy of our God; whereby the dayspring from on high has visited us, To give light to them that sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace” (Luke 1:78–79). Every Christian who accepts the Lord’s salvation enjoys the plentiful grace which He bestows on us and we experience the peace and joy He brings to us. Many people therefore believe that the Lord Jesus’ disposition is eternally loving and merciful.

This is what I believed too, after having believed in the Lord for many years. But then I read the passage in the Bible where the Lord Jesus rebukes the Pharisees: ��Why I say to you, All manner of sin and blasphemy shall be forgiven to men: but the blasphemy against the Holy Spirit shall not be forgiven to men. And whoever speaks a word against the Son of man, it shall be forgiven him: but whoever speaks against the Holy Spirit, it shall not be forgiven him, neither in this world, neither in the world to come” (Matthew 12: 31–32). From these words in which the Lord Jesus condemns and curses the Pharisees, I saw that His attitude toward them was one of abhorrence and loathing, and I understood from this that God’s disposition also has a side which brooks no offense. Coming to this realization, I felt very surprised, and I thought to myself: Could it be that the Lord Jesus’ disposition is not only merciful and loving, but is also majestic and wrathful? Because I didn’t thoroughly understand this matter, I began to seek the answer.

Thank the Lord that, after a while, my seeking finally bore some fruit. I saw several passages of words from a book: “First of all we know that God’s disposition is majesty, is wrath. He is not a sheep to be slaughtered by anyone; even more, He is not a puppet to be controlled by people however they want. He is also not empty air to be bossed around by people. If you really believe that God exists, you should have a heart that fears God, and you should know that God’s essence is not to be angered.” “What is God’s attitude toward people who aggravate His disposition, and offend His administrative decrees? Extreme loathing! God is extremely enraged by people who are unrepentant about aggravating His disposition! ‘Enraged’ is just a feeling, a mood; it can’t represent a clear attitude. But this feeling, this mood, will bring about an outcome for this person: It will fill God with extreme loathing!” “God’s love for man is not the pampering or spoiling kind; His mercy and tolerance toward mankind is not indulgent or unmindful. On the contrary, God’s love for mankind is to cherish, to pity, and to respect life; His mercy and tolerance convey His expectations of man; His mercy and tolerance are what humanity needs to survive. God is alive, and God actually exists; His attitude toward mankind is principled, not a dogmatic rule at all, and it can change. His will for humanity is gradually changing and transforming with time, with circumstance, and with the attitude of each and every person.”

From these passages, I came to understand that God is the Lord of creation and that, although He is filled with mercy and love for mankind, He is also dignified, and even less does His disposition tolerate any offense. When people unscrupulously blaspheme against God and go even further to contest with Him and oppose Him, then God’s punishment comes upon them; to those who abide by God’s words, who obey His work and who have God-fearing hearts, however, God is loving and merciful. From this we can see that God’s attitude toward man is not unchangeable, but rather it changes along with man’s attitude to God—this is God’s righteous disposition.

Thinking back to when the Lord Jesus came to earth to perform His work, He expressed many truths and performed many signs and wonders. The Pharisees, priests and scribes knew perfectly well that the Lord Jesus’ words and work carried authority and power, but in order to safeguard their own positions and livelihoods, they recklessly fabricated rumors and they judged and vilified the Lord, so much so that they even blasphemed against the Lord Jesus, saying that He cast out demons by relying on the Devil, and they tried to stop the common people from following Him. Their attitude of being hostile to the truth and sick of the truth offended God’s disposition, and that is why the Lord Jesus hated them and cursed them to experience misfortune, saying that they were of the ilk of the serpent and the sons of hell. Then there was Judas, the disciple of the Lord Jesus, who always stole money from the Lord Jesus and spent it, who did not cherish His words and who had no love for the truth at all. He also sold the Lord Jesus out for 30 pieces of silver, thus becoming a shameful traitor who severely offended God’s disposition and who, in the end, was cursed by God and died of a burst stomach. There is also the story of Ananias and his wife who secretly kept a portion of the money made from selling their land. By doing this, they not only cheated other people, but they also blatantly lied to the Holy Spirit. They thereby offended God’s disposition and God smote them down. These facts about God’s work prove that God’s disposition is not only merciful and loving, but that it is also majestic and wrathful, and this is the embodiment of God’s righteous disposition. Although God loves mankind whom He made with His own hands, to those who rebel against Him and who blatantly oppose Him, He reveals another side to His righteous disposition—that of profound anger. Thus, I came to understand that the Lord Jesus’ mercy and love is not bestowed endlessly upon us. When we do not follow God’s way and we defy God and act hostile to Him, He then unleashes His majesty and wrath upon us, and the sin offering that the Lord Jesus made on our behalf then becomes null and void. Just as the Bible says, “For if we sin willfully after that we have received the knowledge of the truth, there remains no more sacrifice for sins” (Hebrews 10:26).

To those who love the truth, who accept the truth, who truly repent and are able to abide by God’s words, however, as long as they don’t blaspheme against the Holy Spirit, then God shall always be merciful and loving toward them. Take Peter and John, the followers of the Lord Jesus, for example, as well as such people as the tax collector Matthew, who repented and confessed to the Lord. When they heard the Lord Jesus’ call, they gave up everything and followed Him. They listened diligently to His sermons, thirsted for His words, and the Lord Jesus treated them with mercy and love. The Lord also often lived alongside them, giving them His blessings and guidance. At that time, because Peter didn’t understand the work the Lord Jesus had to perform, he tried to obstruct God’s work out of the goodness of his heart before the Lord was crucified, thus becoming one of Satan’s lackeys. When he said: “Be it far from You, Lord: this shall not be to You” (Matthew 16:22), the Lord sternly rebuked him, saying, “Get you behind Me, Satan” (Matthew 16:23). From these words, we can see that the Lord Jesus abhorred Peter’s action. Yet the Lord scrutinizes the hearts of men and He forgives the immaturity of men’s statures, and so He did not punish Peter, but instead gave him a chance to repent. When Peter realized what he had done, he often felt remorse for his action and, in the end, the Lord did not remember Peter’s transgression, but instead gave him the job of shepherding the church.

I then became certain that the Lord Jesus’ disposition is not merely loving and merciful, but that it is also righteous, majestic and wrathful. If we forever delimit the Lord Jesus to being only a loving and merciful God because we have enjoyed the Lord’s love and mercy, and if we believe that God will never be angry with us no matter what sin we may commit, but that He will instead be merciful and lenient toward us, then we will be apt to displease God with our actions and offend His disposition due to our lack of a God-fearing heart. I then read another passage of God’s words: “God is a living God, and just as people perform differently in different situations, God’s attitude toward these performances differs because He is not a puppet, nor is He empty air. Getting to know God’s attitude is a worthy pursuit for mankind. People should learn how, by knowing God’s attitude, they can know God’s disposition and understand His heart bit by bit. When you come to understand God’s heart bit by bit, you won’t feel that fearing God and shunning evil is a difficult thing to accomplish. What’s more, when you understand God, you’re not likely to make conclusions about Him. When you stop making conclusions about God, you’re not likely to offend Him, and unwittingly God will lead you to have a knowledge of Him, and thereby you will fear God in your heart. You will stop defining God using the doctrines, the letters, and the theories you’ve mastered. Rather, by always seeking out God’s intentions in all things, you will unconsciously become a person who is after God’s heart.” This passage enabled me to understand that, only by knowing God’s disposition will we be able to approach every matter we encounter with caution and care. Especially at this crucial time of the last days during which we welcome the Lord’s return, we cannot determine such things as how the Lord will come in the last days, what work He will perform, based on our own ideas and imaginings, much less should we delimit the Lord in any way. We must harbor a God-fearing heart and seek more in all things so as to avoid delimiting and defying God, offending God’s disposition and committing the same mistake as the Pharisees by relying on our misconceptions and imaginings. It is evident that understanding God’s disposition is incredibly important to each and every believer in God.

#Lord Jesus #God’s words #The Bible #God’s love

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love-god-forever · 5 years

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Knowing Jesus Christ: The Lord Jesus’ Disposition Is Not Just Merciful and Loving

By Lanlan

Whenever we talk of the Lord Jesus, we all think of His abundant love for us; He personally came into the world to redeem mankind and was an innocent Man who was crucified upon the cross, and this act completely manifests His love for all mankind. The Bible says, “Through the tender mercy of our God; whereby the dayspring from on high has visited us, To give light to them that sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace” (Luke 1:78–79). Every Christian who accepts the Lord’s salvation enjoys the plentiful grace which He bestows on us and we experience the peace and joy He brings to us. Many people therefore believe that the Lord Jesus’ disposition is eternally loving and merciful.

This is what I believed too, after having believed in the Lord for many years. But then I read the passage in the Bible where the Lord Jesus rebukes the Pharisees: “Why I say to you, All manner of sin and blasphemy shall be forgiven to men: but the blasphemy against the Holy Spirit shall not be forgiven to men. And whoever speaks a word against the Son of man, it shall be forgiven him: but whoever speaks against the Holy Spirit, it shall not be forgiven him, neither in this world, neither in the world to come” (Matthew 12: 31–32). From these words in which the Lord Jesus condemns and curses the Pharisees, I saw that His attitude toward them was one of abhorrence and loathing, and I understood from this that God’s disposition also has a side which brooks no offense. Coming to this realization, I felt very surprised, and I thought to myself: Could it be that the Lord Jesus’ disposition is not only merciful and loving, but is also majestic and wrathful? Because I didn’t thoroughly understand this matter, I began to seek the answer.

#Lord Jesus #the Son of man #The Bible #God’s words #God’s work

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the-girl-who-sang · 3 years

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March 9th of 2021, 00:00hs.. - The Love Born in Human Form, and he is You! #HAPPY_YOONGI_DAY #to_SUGA #MyPreciousYoongi

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My beloved Yoongi,

I don't know exactly how to start this message, since I talk about my feelings for you every moment of each day, and yet, it seems little to express exactly, everything that inhabits inside of me, when it comes to you. Maybe this sounds like a big silly cliché, but I don't care... Because it's about you, and everything about you, it means the world to me!

So, I think that the best way to talk about what cannot be fully translated into words, is through music, exactly what united me with you…

You know, as a Classical Music Student, graduating as a Lyrical Singer, I had a lot of contact with theoretical and practical subjects, but of all, I most certainly liked Harmony & History of Music.

With the first, I learned to understand how a musical composition works, its important features and what makes it unique and special; with the second, I was able to better understand how feelings have been influencing authors and composers through the centuries, much more than I imagined!

Why am I saying all this? Well, because it all reminds me of you...

Just like Harmony, you transcend and overflow all forms of feeling, express with your gestures, actions and words, profound things that I and so many people in the world feel, but we cannot say out loud; like the History of Music, you made me understand what was in me, long before I knew that something had changed within me… It comes from other eras, from other times. Past, present and future are mixed in what can only be described as singularity.

And that is because I did not mention how you and Contraponto - a new subject that I have been studying and enjoying a lot - teach me to deal with the unexpected variants of life, with the opposites that are able to create a balance and together, even if different, manage to give life to something beautiful and inexplicable...

Yes... You taught me a lot and you have no idea! You don't understand, because everything that comes from you is so pure and natural, the very expression of the ethereal!

With you, I truly learned the meaning of what Love is, how wonderful, powerful and indestructible it is, and how it manages to transform the world around, how it is able to overcome any limit and how it does not see fear or the impossible!

But... Not everything is flowers, and even in the absence of them, something valuable can be turned into a lesson.

Lately, life has been difficult... The burden of uncertainty, doubt and insecurity has been constant companionship and, at times, end up stunning my senses, confusing my mind, shaking my heart. There are times when I am so afraid that everything will go wrong, that my dreams will not come true, that I will not be able to get through this thick layer of fog, that the love so beautiful, pure and disinterested that I feel for you it can never come true, and... Suddenly, everything stops. All the chaos and confusion are silenced, in front of a single thought: you.

Every time I feel my balance oscillating in bad waves, suddenly his voice reaches me, as well as his words, his emotions, his smile, strength and determination... And, as if by magic, I feel my heart rediscover the rhythm, the frequency of my breathing normalizes, my thoughts return to tune and everything seems safe again.

All thanks to you... It's always about you, and the immense emotional wave that you emanate without knowing.

Because you are synonymous with peace, security and refuge, in every word, act or gesture. Because you overflow with emotion, honesty and purity in everything you do, in every song you sing, in every facial expression. Even your silence speaks to the existence of the world... Because you transcend so much light, sweetness and kindness, that it is difficult to find something in you, that does not make everything collapse inside of me, in the best way possible, just to make me reinvent and renew myself.

And maybe, everything is explained based on Love... And Music. Because absolutely everything in my life orbits love and music and, since you came into my way, my life has also found a safe orbit in you.

You, Music and Love, are the precise communion of what I am inside. And perhaps, by taking a little bit of poetry, I can assure you that You are my best definition of Love...

But, if to validate this feeling I need the help of a master of the Arts, I would like to ask the assistance of Gustav Mahler and Friedrich Rückert, who expresses it purely in the final excerpt of his poem 'Ich bin der Welt abhanden gekommen' (I am lost to the world), what I feel inside...

"I live alone in my heaven, In my love, in my song!"

And living alone in a world of Love and Music, is certainly the best way to live!

But please, don't think that with my words, I expect anything from you, no... I know that this love I feel for you, will never be reciprocal, but that's okay! Because loving you makes me happy, and being happy loving you is enough...

But... Enough! I think I said too much. Forgive me for stealing so much of your time... Talk about you, about what you awaken in me and about how happy it makes me, my existence goes to another dimension!

On that special day, with the blessing of music, a universal language that united our paths in the most ethereal way, I would like to demonstrate once again, all my affection, respect and support for you.

You are, without a doubt, the most extraordinary person I have ever met!

It came into my life at a time when all my hopes were dying, suffocated in so much pain that I can hardly explain… You and your friends, transformed everything around me! They gave me back the strength, the hope, the will to move on, the motivation to overcome my limits and fight for my dreams!

On this very special date when we celebrate the blessing of your birthday, I want to thank God, for putting them in my life … But mainly, for connecting my heart to yours, even if you don't feel it, even if never be reciprocal.

Because what you arouse on me, it overflowed me… And for you, I am only love!

Happy Birthday Lil Meow Meow!!! All the best things of the Universe, I wish you!!! Many happinesses and achievements!!! Much peace, love, health, joy, success, happiness and good energies. May God protect, enlighten and guide your steps!!! That your way be always full of the best things of life, and that nothing never turn out this immense light inside your heart!! Thank you so much for being an inspiration to us all. Thank you so much for giving us so much motivation and courage. Thank you so much for never giving up. Thank you so much for always be an exemple of humility, courage and determination. Thank you so much for being so kind, even if people are sometimes not worthy of it. Thank you so much for always giving us so much love. Thank you so much for always share with us, the best of you. Thank you so much for always be by our side. Thank you so much for be this fortress and for inspire us to stay strong too!! Thank you for… Exist!

And never forget: I’m here with you and for you, don’t matter what happens. I’ll stay by your side, always, because I love you, not because you’re SUGA from BTS, but because you’re Min Yoongi, just our adorable Yoonie, and you’re so much more than the eyes can see…

I honestly love you so, I love the person you’re, I love the Yoongi behind the myth. I love who you’re inside, even though I know that only by my heart!

No matter where you are, no matter the time or distance, no matter what people think or say… I will always be with you ♡

I made this little gift for you, with all the love I have inside of me!

🥳🌌🌠🎆🎉🎁🎈🎂🍊🐱💙🎶🎵🎸🎹🎤🎧🎇🎊🔥☄️✨💐

Yasmin de Carvalho - Brazil. 09.03.2021, 00:00hs. #miewgic #미ewgic 💙

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