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miajolensdevotion · 2 years

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January 16 2021

Verse: Genesis 38-39 Write/ Copy Gods words :

Judah and Tamar 38 At that time, Judah(A) left his brothers and went down to stay with a man of Adullam(B) named Hirah.(C) 2 There Judah met the daughter of a Canaanite man named Shua.(D) He married her and made love to her; 3 she became pregnant and gave birth to a son, who was named Er.(E) 4 She conceived again and gave birth to a son and named him Onan.(F) 5 She gave birth to still another son and named him Shelah.(G) It was at Kezib that she gave birth to him. 6 Judah got a wife for Er, his firstborn, and her name was Tamar.(H) 7 But Er, Judah’s firstborn, was wicked in the Lord’s sight;(I) so the Lord put him to death.(J) 8 Then Judah said to Onan, “Sleep with your brother’s wife and fulfill your duty to her as a brother-in-law to raise up offspring for your brother.”(K) 9 But Onan knew that the child would not be his; so whenever he slept with his brother’s wife, he spilled his semen on the ground to keep from providing offspring for his brother. 10 What he did was wicked in the Lord’s sight; so the Lord put him to death also.(L) 11 Judah then said to his daughter-in-law(M) Tamar,(N) “Live as a widow in your father’s household(O) until my son Shelah(P) grows up.”(Q) For he thought, “He may die too, just like his brothers.” So Tamar went to live in her father’s household. 12 After a long time Judah’s wife, the daughter of Shua,(R) died. When Judah had recovered from his grief, he went up to Timnah,(S) to the men who were shearing his sheep,(T) and his friend Hirah the Adullamite(U) went with him. 13 When Tamar(V) was told, “Your father-in-law is on his way to Timnah to shear his sheep,”(W) 14 she took off her widow’s clothes,(X) covered herself with a veil(Y) to disguise herself, and then sat down(Z) at the entrance to Enaim, which is on the road to Timnah.(AA) For she saw that, though Shelah(AB) had now grown up, she had not been given to him as his wife. 15 When Judah saw her, he thought she was a prostitute,(AC) for she had covered her face. 16 Not realizing(AD) that she was his daughter-in-law,(AE) he went over to her by the roadside and said, “Come now, let me sleep with you.”(AF) “And what will you give me to sleep with you?”(AG) she asked. 17 “I’ll send you a young goat(AH) from my flock,” he said. “Will you give me something as a pledge(AI) until you send it?” she asked. 18 He said, “What pledge should I give you?” “Your seal(AJ) and its cord, and the staff(AK) in your hand,” she answered. So he gave them to her and slept with her, and she became pregnant by him.(AL) 19 After she left, she took off her veil and put on her widow’s clothes(AM) again. 20 Meanwhile Judah sent the young goat by his friend the Adullamite(AN) in order to get his pledge(AO) back from the woman, but he did not find her. 21 He asked the men who lived there, “Where is the shrine prostitute(AP) who was beside the road at Enaim?” “There hasn’t been any shrine prostitute here,” they said. 22 So he went back to Judah and said, “I didn’t find her. Besides, the men who lived there said, ‘There hasn’t been any shrine prostitute here.’” 23 Then Judah said, “Let her keep what she has,(AQ) or we will become a laughingstock.(AR) After all, I did send her this young goat, but you didn’t find her.” 24 About three months later Judah was told, “Your daughter-in-law Tamar is guilty of prostitution, and as a result she is now pregnant.” Judah said, “Bring her out and have her burned to death!”(AS) 25 As she was being brought out, she sent a message to her father-in-law. “I am pregnant by the man who owns these,” she said. And she added, “See if you recognize whose seal and cord and staff these are.”(AT) 26 Judah recognized them and said, “She is more righteous than I,(AU) since I wouldn’t give her to my son Shelah.(AV)” And he did not sleep with her again. 27 When the time came for her to give birth, there were twin boys in her womb.(AW) 28 As she was giving birth, one of them put out his hand; so the midwife(AX) took a scarlet thread and tied it on his wrist(AY) and said, “This one came out first.” 29 But when he drew back his hand, his brother came out,(AZ) and she said, “So this is how you have broken out!” And he was named Perez.a 30 Then his brother, who had the scarlet thread on his wrist,(BB) came out. And he was named Zerah.b Joseph and Potiphar’s Wife 39 Now Joseph(BD) had been taken down to Egypt. Potiphar, an Egyptian who was one of Pharaoh’s officials, the captain of the guard,(BE) bought him from the Ishmaelites who had taken him there.(BF) 2 The Lord was with Joseph(BG) so that he prospered, and he lived in the house of his Egyptian master. 3 When his master saw that the Lord was with him(BH) and that the Lord gave him success in everything he did,(BI) 4 Joseph found favor in his eyes(BJ) and became his attendant. Potiphar put him in charge of his household,(BK) and he entrusted to his care everything he owned.(BL) 5 From the time he put him in charge of his household and of all that he owned, the Lord blessed the household(BM) of the Egyptian because of Joseph.(BN) The blessing of the Lord was on everything Potiphar had, both in the house and in the field.(BO) 6 So Potiphar left everything he had in Joseph’s care;(BP) with Joseph in charge, he did not concern himself with anything except the food he ate. Now Joseph was well-built and handsome,(BQ) 7 and after a while his master’s wife took notice of Joseph and said, “Come to bed with me!”(BR) 8 But he refused.(BS) “With me in charge,” he told her, “my master does not concern himself with anything in the house; everything he owns he has entrusted to my care.(BT) 9 No one is greater in this house than I am.(BU) My master has withheld nothing from me except you, because you are his wife. How then could I do such a wicked thing and sin against God?”(BV) 10 And though she spoke to Joseph day after day, he refused(BW) to go to bed with her or even be with her. 11 One day he went into the house to attend to his duties,(BX) and none of the household servants(BY) was inside. 12 She caught him by his cloak(BZ) and said, “Come to bed with me!”(CA) But he left his cloak in her hand and ran out of the house.(CB) 13 When she saw that he had left his cloak in her hand and had run out of the house, 14 she called her household servants.(CC) “Look,” she said to them, “this Hebrew(CD) has been brought to us to make sport of us!(CE) He came in here to sleep with me, but I screamed.(CF) 15 When he heard me scream for help, he left his cloak beside me and ran out of the house.”(CG) 16 She kept his cloak beside her until his master came home. 17 Then she told him this story:(CH) “That Hebrew(CI) slave(CJ) you brought us came to me to make sport of me. 18 But as soon as I screamed for help, he left his cloak beside me and ran out of the house.” 19 When his master heard the story his wife told him, saying, “This is how your slave treated me,” he burned with anger.(CK) 20 Joseph’s master took him and put him in prison,(CL) the place where the king’s prisoners were confined. But while Joseph was there in the prison, 21 the Lord was with him;(CM) he showed him kindness(CN) and granted him favor in the eyes of the prison warden.(CO) 22 So the warden put Joseph in charge of all those held in the prison, and he was made responsible for all that was done there.(CP) 23 The warden paid no attention to anything under Joseph’s(CQ) care, because the Lord was with Joseph and gave him success in whatever he did.(CR)

What is your Favorite verse(s): 38: 6In the course of time, Judah arranged for his firstborn son, Er, to marry a young woman named Tamar. 7But Er was a wicked man in the LORD’s sight, so the LORD took his life. 8Then Judah said to Er’s brother Onan, “Go and marry Tamar, as our law requires of the brother of a man who has died. You must produce an heir for your brother.” Explain in your own words what you just read.

What we have here is a story of blood lines and genealogy; but it is also a story that relates cultural information from that era, as well as historical data that we’ll find linked in later times to cities and places and people. Almost all the names of places that we find here…..Adullam, Chezib, Timnah, and Enam…..will appear later in the Bible as being located within the tribal territory of Judah. So, while this section of Israelite history seems a little disconnected from the direction the Torah is taking (making Joseph’s life the central theme for the remainder of Genesis), in fact it is there to show Judah’s rise to prominence, and make connections even in the life of the future King David

Commitment / what will i do : I will continue to have faith in God

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zbeez-outlet · 2 years

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Stumbling at Light Speed Masterlist

Five Hargreeves x OC | TUA Canon Universe | Slow Burn Relationship

Concept || On the 12th hour of the first day of October 1989, 43 women around the world gave birth. This was unusual only in the fact that none of these women had been pregnant when the day first began. Sir Reginald Hargreeves, eccentric billionaire and adventurer, resolved to locate and adopt as many of the children as possible.

He got seven of them.

That is, until a rather extraordinary eighth is perched drearily on the Academy's front gate six years later.

A/N: This is going to be a multi-book, multi-chapter story! A kinda big endeavor, but I'm excited to get into it because this character has been bouncing around my head for months now. Book One is going to follow them all as children in the academy; the following three books will be about seasons 1-3. It's definitely a slow burn series, and Five will be physically aged up to 20 because I refuse to write minors in relationships. I hope you enjoy!

**NOTE ABOUT VICTOR: I want to respect the character of Victor and the journey that he takes to discover himself because, while it wasn't planned from the beginning, I think they write his transition from Vanya fluidly and respectfully. So, in line with the show and his character arc, until I get to season 3 and his transition, Victor will be depicted as Vanya. I hope this isn't upsetting to anyone, and if there are ways I can write Victor pre-transition more respectfully, please don't hesitate to reach out and let me know, your feedback means everything!

Books ||

Growing Up Curious How Not to Stop an Apocalypse by Five and Noa Do It Again, But With Style! Something Wicked in the Works

#five hargreeves #five hargreeves x oc #number five #umbrella acedmy #five hargreeves x reader #fanfiction #original character #umbrella academy oc #tua #tua netflix

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olivetreehugger · 3 years

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SnK Warriors as Health Care Workers

I’m an ICU nurse, and I’ve come across a tonnnn of different types of healthcare workers in my line of work. These are just my hc’s for what kind of HCWs the Warrior unit would be. These are totally my opinion! Also, real healthcare is NOT the same as TV healthcare, not every doctor is a surgeon (and they’re not the best, either). Anyway, here we go :)

Warnings: mentions of blood, medical procedures, opioids, death

-Zeke: he’d be a fourth year neurosurgery resident. Neurosurgery residents are either cold, arrogant assholes or fun bros. No in-between. They’re always on the move or in surgery honing their skills. They don’t sleep and they’re on call 24/7.

Zeke is always carrying a strong, black Starbucks coffee and reeks of cigarette smoke. He’s always exhausted because he's covering all the neuro patients in the hospital overnight and then rounds with the attending (Magath? idk) in the morning til like 2pm. It’s a miracle he doesn’t kill anyone. He’s wicked smart and super talented in the OR, but kind of a dick with the nurses. He shows up at the bedside to do a quick procedure, doesn’t tell the nurses ahead of time. He grabs all the supplies on his own because “the nurses don’t know what I like” and then when he’s done he’ll leave the leftover dirty gloves, removed drain, stray bloody gauze, and empty boxes all over the room. He has a somewhat asinine attitude towards patients, poor bedside manner. He doesn’t order pain medication for the intubated patient before removing a drain bc “they’re sedated, right?” No, Dr. Jaeger, neuro patients don’t get heavy sedation. Please order a small dose of pain meds. You’re hurting them. “Oh, right. I’ll order that.” No, he won’t. Zeke always promises to throw in orders, always forgets.

You’ll spend your shift paging him for orders, cleaning up after him and getting rude comments over the phone. He’s gonna make a fantastic neurosurgeon, though. He’ll save your life.

-Porco: An ER resident for SURE. He loves the chaos of the emergency department. A typical male in healthcare-he loves the trauma, the blood and guts, the crazy. He tries to avoid pregnant women and kids, they freak him out. BUT, that didn’t stop him from holding a woman’s hand when she gave birth right there in the ER lobby. Great bedside manner. So smart. And he’s super sweet, actually??? He also creates secret handshakes with the kids and sweet talks the old ladies to make them more comfortable. He tells them to call him Pock or Porco, not Dr. Galliard.

Unfortunately, When he first started, he got a little too cocky and claimed he didn’t need to scan a patient after getting hit in the chest with a hockey stick. Patient suffered a ruptured vessel and almost died right there. After a very rigid monitoring program, he was able to practice again. He’s also a giant flirt. He dated most nurses in the hospital and they ALL talk about his dick game.

Porco rides his motorcycle to work and sometimes skips his helmet. All the nurses shame him for it, reminding him of the horrible head injuries that come in through the trauma bay because of motorcycle crashes. He comes in double fisting Monster energy drinks and jamming to whatever his air pods are playing probably Hamilton. ER residents are chaotic and funny and Porco is no different. During a code blue (a patient’s heart stopped) he kept calm and hummed “stayin’ alive” while they performed CPR. He runs a code like a goddamn CHAMP. He has ACLS memorized to a T and intubates better than most attendings. The nurses will tell him the patient’s labs look better after the medication he ordered and he’ll be like “Hell yeah, let’s keep it goin’” or “A’ight let’s get crazy” before an emergency procedure. If the nurses can’t place an IV, you bet your sweet ass he’s grabbing the ultrasound and throwing a few in for them <3

Pieck: She’s an infectious disease PA. She’s very soft-spoken, patient and intelligent. Orders and notes are always flawless. Apologizes whenever she orders blood cultures and even offers to draw them for the nurses if they’re busy. She buys everyone pizza when she’s on the unit. All the nurses love her. She’s perfect.

Annie: A nightshift CVICU nurse. There’s a joke online that cardiovascular/cardiothoracic ICU nurses are the biggest bitches ever. And it’s true, most are. BUT. Annie is probably the best nurse to have if you’ve just come out of open-heart surgery or had a lung transplant. She knows exactly what to do when a patient is crashing and is a BEAST when it comes to chest compressions. She is a pro at putting in IVs and troubleshooting pumps/machines when they don’t work. She has every single lab value, test and medication stored in that brain of hers and can pull it out before you can finish asking a question.

She gives a quick, concise report on all her patients and expects the same. If you don’t, she rolls her eyes at you and rushes you. “I don’t need useless information. What drips are you running?” She gets in trouble sometimes because she makes her student nurses cry, but “why don’t they know how to zero an arterial line? it’s not my fault they don’t know their stuff.” No, Annie. You’re supposed to teach them. “Oh.”

She wears the newest, cutest scrubs and has an ivory and rose-gold stethoscope. Don’t tell her it’s basic, though, she’ll put you on her shit list lol. She also hates being floated to the medical ICU because “they don’t know what they’re doing”.

Reiner: Our king is a medical ICU nurse who started in the ER. He loved the wild west that was the ER but started to feel burnt out after seeing so many child deaths and cases of abuse. When he finally realized what it was doing to him he applied for a medical ICU position on night shift and transferred right away.

Baby, he thrived there. This guy is so compassionate with his patients and knows how to advocate for them well. He has a great rapport with all the physicians (except Porco, when Reiner was working ER they would butt heads frequently) He’s great to give report to, never gives the previous nurse a rough time. When he reports off to the next shift, his rooms are a little messy sometimes but he ALWAYS has extra supplies for you and the patient is clean. He learned so much from the patients and his peers that he was eventually promoted to charge RN. He’s the best charge nurse. Knows all the protocols and will call any doctor for you. Anytime you need help doing a procedure, he’s your man: IVs? “How many you want?” Blood draw? “I’ll grab the tubes”. Patient’s about to code? “I got compressions”. Call security for the violent patient down the hall? “I AM security”.

His scrubs are a little snug around his shoulders and chest and he knows this. Baby likes to show off. He likes to flex his muscles for anyone watching, but he’s not a douche. Reiner is an absolute gentleman with his female coworkers, never complains when they ask him for lifting help. In fact, he loves being of use. It’s why he’s a nurse in the first place: he loves helping people <33

Bertholdt: He started with Reiner in the ER but wanted something more stable so he transferred to the burn unit (get it?). Reiner still hasn’t forgiven him.

Colt: He’s in nursing school but loved the idea of being a trauma nurse. Then he did a clinical rotation in the trauma ICU and fainted when a confused patient ripped a screw out of his fractured arm. After that he decided to do pediatrics lol.

#aot headcanons #zeke jaeger #reiner braun #porco galliard #pieck finger #annie leonhardt #colt grice #bertoldt hoover #bertholdt hoover #zeke headcanons #reiner headcanons #porco headcanons #pieck headcanons #annie leonhardt headcanons #attack on titan #snk

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revisitingsundayschool · 3 years

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Genesis 37-40: Joseph Interprets Dreams + Judah and Tamar

Joseph Sold to the Midianites - Genesis 37

Synopsis: Joseph (17 years old at this point) was his father's, Jacob's, favorite son. Jacob gave him an ornate robe. Joseph had two dreams that he told his family about. First, all of Jacob's sons were bringing bundles of grain in from the field. Joseph's bundle rose up and the other bundles gathered and bowed to his. Second, the sun, moon, and eleven stars bowed to Joseph. Joseph's brothers did not like that he was shown favoritism from Jacob and that he was sharing dreams about how Joseph would rule over them. Later, Jacob sent Joseph out to the field to check on his brothers. His brothers were plotting to kill Joseph. Reuben, however, suggested to throw Joseph in a cistern, keep him in the wilderness, then rescue him later and bring him back to Jacob. Joseph's brothers then captured him, took his ornate robe, and put him in a cistern. Then, Judah suggested to sell Joseph to a caravan of Midianites (Ishmaelites) so they could make a profit. They sold Joseph to the Midianites for 20 shekels of silver. The brothers dipped Joseph's robe in goat's blood and gave it to Jacob. Jacob was upset because he believed Joseph was killed by animals in the wilderness. Jacob said he'd mourn for Joseph until he joined his son in the grave. The Midianites sold Joseph to Potiphar, one of Pharaoh's officials in Egypt.

Young Joseph is kind of annoying. Even as a Christian child, I remember thinking that Joseph should have shown more humility. It seems that he did not have to work as hard in the field as his brothers. Then, on top of that, he shares a prophecy that he will rule over the rest of his family. I understand Joseph's brother's jealousy. However, like other stories of jealousy in the Bible, they take it too far. In church, this story was used to fit the narrative that bad things happen to good people as a part of God's plan. As Joseph's story continues, this interpretation will make sense. Even though this thinking can be comforting to some who are in tough times, I think it's harmful to invalidate people's struggles. I think that bad things happen to people, good and bad, by chance. It's a bad thing and it is unfortunate.

Judah and Tamar - Genesis 38

Synopsis: Judah had 3 sons with a Canaanite woman: Er, Onan, and Shelah. Er married a woman named Tamar. Then, God killed Er for being wicked. Judah told Onan that it was his duty as a brother-in-law to have and raise a child with Tamar. However, when he had sex with Tamar, he would ejaculate on the ground because he didn't want to provide his brother with offspring. God saw Onan as wicked for this, so Onan was killed as well. Judah told Tamar to move back with her father as a widow until Shelah comes of age. Later, Tamar heard Judah was going to Timnah, so she disguised herself as a sex worker and sat on the road to Timnah. Judah saw her, but did not recognize her. He asked to sleep with her in exchange for a goat. She asked for his seal, its cord, and his staff as collateral. He agreed, they had sex, and she got pregnant. Judah went back to try to give the goat to the woman she had sex with, but could not find her. Later, Judah was told that Tamar was guilty of sex work. Judah said that she should be burned to death. When Tamar was brought in front of Judah, she showed Judah the seal, cord, and staff. Judah recognized these and said "she is more righteous than I, since I wouldn't give her to my son Shelah." When Tamar was giving birth to the twins, Zerah's hand came out first, so the midwife put a scarlet thread on his wrist to mark him as the first born. However, Perez was the first to fully emerge.

It is unclear why Er is seen as wicked in this story. When I tried to find an answer for this, I was surprised to see less speculation for his wrong-doing than there was for Noah's son Ham. Onan's sin was used in my church to dissuade people from masturbating or having any version of sex without the purpose of procreation. Although, in my interpretation, Onan's sin in God's eyes was not "fulfilling his family obligation" to give Tamar a child. Either way, this story is icky. Later, Judah orders to have Tamar put to death for being a sex worker. However, he changes his mind after being shown the staff and seal. I wish that this story had more of a moral of not shaming sex work. There could have been a moment where Judah realizes his hypocrisy that he was going to kill a woman for sex work, even though he uses their services. Instead, Judah's takeaway was that he should have given Tamar to his third son instead of sending her away to protect him. Finally, there is a bit of a parallel with Jacob and Esau in this story with Zerah and Perez fighting as they come out of the womb.

Joseph and Potiphar's Wife - Genesis 39

Synopsis: Joseph had favor in the eyes of his Egyptian master, Potiphar. He was put in charge of the household, and Potiphar did not have to worry about anything. Potiphar's wife was attracted to Joseph, and she demanded to have sex with her multiple times. Joseph refused each time because of the good standing he had with Potiphar and that it is a sin to have sex with another man's wife. Eventually, Potiphar's wife accused Joseph of trying to rape her. When Potiphar heard about the accusation, he sent Joseph to prison. Then, God protected Joseph and granted favor in the eyes of the warden. The warden put Joseph in charge of the prison and did not worry about him.

This story is used to show the power of God's protection. In a bad situation, Joseph received benefits and was seen favorably by those around him. Unfortunately, many people in bad situations don't actually receive these benefits, even those who are devout Christians. Also, Potiphar's wife is used to justify being slow to trust women accusing men of sexual assault. Finally, there's a VeggieTales version of Joseph's story that I watched as a kid called "The Ballad of Little Joe". In typical VeggieTales fashion, they censored the sex parts of the story. Instead of trying to have sex with Joseph, Potiphar's wife tried to get Joseph to steal money and leave.

The Dreams of the Cupbearer and the Baker - Genesis 40

Synopsis: Joseph met the baker and the cupbearer of Pharaoh in prison. While in jail, they both had dreams that Joseph interpreted with the power of God. The cupbearer dreamed about a vine with 3 branches. After they ripened with grapes, he squeezed the grapes into Pharaoh's cup and put the cup in Pharaoh's hand. Joseph interpreted that this meant that in 3 days, Pharaoh would reinstate the cupbearer's position. Joseph asked the cupbearer to remember him and tell Pharaoh that he was wrongfully in prison. The baker had a dream that he had 3 baskets of bread on his head, but birds were eating the bread from the baskets. Joseph interpreted this to mean that the baker would be executed in 3 days and birds would eat away at his flesh. Three days later, it was Pharaoh's birthday. Joseph's interpretations of these dreams came true. The cupbearer, however, forgot Joseph and did not tell Pharaoh about him.

The church used this story as an example of how God uses his power through people. However, I have more of a connection with this story because of my grandmother. She was a spiritual person, and she used to interpret dreams. She was a great person, and did a lot of work at a local retirement home and for raising money for hospice care. I don't buy into spirituality, but when she described interpreting dreams to me, it sounded more based in memories and psychology than in supernatural power. She died a few years ago, and I miss her a lot.

Feel free to share your thoughts in the comments below or in the Discord. The passage for next Sunday will cover more stories about Joseph in Egypt (Genesis 41-45).

#bible #atheist #ex christian #joseph #jacob #judah #tamar #potiphar #egypt #dreams #genesis

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czuritaa · 5 years

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One-Shot

Words count: 673

After a six months of a nice, non-toxic relationship, Anne couldn't be more happy. All of the Queens liked Philip, lucky to her not in the romantic way. Philip was the sweetest guy on earth and she was surprised about the angel God send her.

Today was different though. She paced around her room, nervous, biting the nails of one hand and holding a pregnancy test on the other.

It has been two weeks since her period had had to come. When it didn't she searched several reasons about it, one shocking her. Pregnancy was the main one and it was something she knew too well.

She was scared yet excited. If she was pregnant it could lead to a miscarriage, something that she has already passed and didn't want to again, and maybe Philip could leave her for that. But if she gave birth that baby, Philip would go away if it's not a boy or get mad about it like Henry? Would he stay with her? This would count as betraying her daughter Elizabeth?

More and more questions burned her brain down. She sat on her bed, impossible for her to look at that weird thing in her hand.

Before she could see the answer she heard a slightly knock on her door. She got extremely nervous and after shooting a 'hold on!' she ran to her bathroom and hid the test.

When she came back to her room she found her baby cousin sitting in her bed. A bit concerned she approached to her. "What's wrong babe?" Kitty hugged her immediately, trembling. "I had a nightmare..."

They stood in an embrace for an hour or so. Anne didn't mind it though. Everyone knows she would do anything to make her baby cousin smile or laugh.

"Wanna hot cocoa?" Kitty just nodded and both of them went down.

Anne prepared two hot cocoas with a bit of cinnamon and caramel. Her secret recipe.

She gave one to Kitty and she drank the other. The only thing was that in the moment to drink it the smell of cinnamon made her wanting to puke. She got up and ran to the nearest bathroom where she throw up.

Katherine, concerned, followed her cousin quickly. "Annie! Are you OK?!" She knelt down, holding Anne's hair and rubbing her back.

Anne nodded sitting up and laying her head on Kitty's shoulder. "Yeah..."

Kitty hugged her a bit tight, she was so scared. "Are you sure?"

Anne knew that she had to tell her eventually so with a silent nod she got up and started walking towards her room.

Kitty followed her pretty nervous and curious. What was going on?

Anne grabbed the box and opened it. There was the pregnancy test laying. "Here. Check this."

Kitty approached her and sat down on the bed next to her cousin.

Anne passed her the box.

"What's this?" Kitty tilted her head in confusion.

Anne sighed and played with her hands, a little tiny nervous tick. "A pregnancy test..."

Kitty opened her mouth. "Are you...?"

Anne just shrugged and pointed inside. "I don't know. I didn't check."

Kitty quickly grabbed it and checked it. Positive... It was freaking positive!

Kitty screamed in joy at the top of her lungs making the rest of the Queens ran upstairs, finding Anne being tackled by Kitty.

"What's going on?" Cathy asked the question that rounded everyone's mind.

"Anne's pregnant!" Kitty said still hugging Anne.

There was an uncomfortable silence.

"Surprise?" Anne smiled nervously.

"What?!"

That was heard even in Australia.

Everyone hugged Anne, happy for her.

"Did you tell Philip yet?" Jane asked smiling softly but widely.

"Not yet."

"What are you waiting for?!" Ari and Anna grabbed her arms and dragged her downstairs to plan how to tell the father.

@wicked-books-101

#six the musical fanfic #six the musical #six fanfiction

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atlas-of-a-human-soul · 5 years

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Wicked, pt.9/finale (DT royal AU)

A/N - instead of a summary, I wanted to let you know that this is the finale and thank those who have stuck with the series and gave me the inspiration to keep going. I know this was an ambitious endeavor, but I’m glad I stuck to it. This part will have a lot of things packed into it in only about 3.5k words and there’s a lot there to say and explain but I didn’t want to drag the series out unnecessarily. In case you have questions about the series and their future or concepts about the series, feel free to send them in and I’ll answer when I can and tag it under #wicked.

Enjoy the last part :)

Warnings: angst, indicating smut, fluff, swearing

Word count: 3500

WICKED - SERIES MASTERLIST

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There was a moment when Y/N realized she'd misinterpreted Grayson’s actions, his words, his expressions from the moment they met... as if he'd been speaking a language she couldn't understand... that moment was the moment her heart broke...She could hardly speak in her shock then, but this shockingly defining moment was much different than that first moment.

Body exhausted, heart tortured, drenched in her pain, Y/N could barely stand as she watched her supposedly dead husband dismount the beautiful horse he rode in, her hands grabbing onto Ethan for support. She didn’t believe she was seeing clearly, certain her mind is playing tricks on her. After all, she was far from recovered from her extremely difficult delivery and in moments of great heartache many people see and hear things that aren’t truly there. She believed it to be one of those moments.

Ethan had gripped her tightly, not only to hold her from falling as he felt her shaking in his arms like she could collapse at any given moment, but to also secure himself for he believed his eyes lied to him.

“Get away from her!” Grayson shouted angrily, his jaw clenched and his eyebrows furrowed as he strode toward the shaken pair, fists clenched at his sides.

He barely came within arm’s reach when Y/N noticed someone else at the gates, her mind and body finally giving out and letting the shock overwhelm her. Eyes rolling back in her skull, body going limp in Ethan’s arms, Y/N fell into darkness she was lost in.

“Y/N!” Ethan screamed in horror, holding her tightly as Grayson practically growled.

“What now, huh? Faking it so she can figure out some excuse to save you both from me?!” Grayson turned around, rubbing his chin in frustration as Ethan realized what’s happening. Not only was Grayson alive, but he had concocted some ridiculous theory about how he nearly lost his life.

“Brooks?!” Ethan didn’t need to look to know the knight was near, already rushing to carry the young queen back to her bed. The moment Brooks walked into the castle, Ethan unleashed his own anger toward the king, grabbing him by the shoulder to force Grayson to look him in the eye.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Huh?! You don’t deserve that woman, brother. She is too good for you!” Ethan spat, pushing Grayson back to hopefully stop himself from punching him. He was ecstatic his brother was alive, but he was done being quiet.

“Me? I mean, it makes sense. I wish I saw it all earlier. Should have known you two would join forces to have me killed! Was there ever a Gandria, Ethan? Because you just happened to disappear to Dracovia and then have me come because she was apparently giving birth to my son?! A month early?!” Grayson paused to shake his head, convinced it was all just a wicked plan of his dragon wife – seduce his power-hungry brother and fake a delivery? She still looked very pregnant to him. And not only that, but they had him declared dead within ten days and would have buried him without a body? She probably already knew he left her the kingdom from before…for Grayson, it was all a ploy. She never loved him – he never said it and he decided to believe what he was given…and in his mind, he was given nothing.

“You really want the throne so badly, E.? My wicked dragon wife? Because if you’re willing to kill me for it, you can have it all. Take it, but you’ll never see me again!” Grayson spat, barely holding himself back from calling his guards and taking his brother prisoner.

“Follow me,” Ethan growled out, pushing Grayson toward the castle. There was no use in talking to him, but he’ll try before he can also show his brother he’s an idiot.

“You think we did this? That the woman you saw today was celebrating your death? Like she didn’t kill hundreds of people in her grief and burned a fucking island?” Ethan ranted, his throat tight and his voice low as he vibrated in the anger that consumed him. Grayson held onto his every word, shaken by the revelations of what she had done in his name.

“The same woman who wept for you, whose heart broke?! Who mobilized all her men to find you? Who had sharks killed to make sure you weren’t a meal?!” Ethan chuckled lowly, gritting his teeth as he stopped in front of the door that separated them from Y/N – the door to the room Grayson and Y/N shared in their marriage.

“You think the delivery story was a lie?” Ethan chuckled dryly once more, staring intently at a stone-faced Grayson, no emotion passing his features. Until they heard a tiny, yet loud wail like cry that stopped as quickly as it began and Grayson’s eyes widened.

“It wasn’t a lie.” Ethan snapped as he gripped Grayson’s shirt and pulled him closer in the most violent manner.

“That woman nearly died giving birth to your son that night. She called your name in delirium the entire time and when morning came and she opened her eyes, she got the news of your death and she refused to accept it. She didn’t do it because it’s her duty as a wife, she did it because she loves you and you need to shut up about the theories that aren’t true and focus on giving her a loving home she never had.” Letting go, Ethan straightened Grayson’s shirt and forced a smile for he could tell Grayson was coming back to his senses. It was evident Grayson went through the ringer considering the long cut on his right cheek that reached from his eye to his jaw, but Ethan knew a friendly approach wouldn’t be of use in this case.

“I’m willing to forget this ever happened and she doesn’t have to know you suspected her, but you have to stop expecting the worst of her…and of me.”

Nodding, Grayson opened his mouth to apologize, but Ethan interjected. “It’s fine. Just go in and meet your kid because he’s pretty fucking adorable. And make sure to be gentle with her…she went through hell her whole life while you only had days of it.”

Opening the door, Grayson held his breath. He wondered how the hell did he let himself think she would kill him when she never did when she had much better opportunities. In the moments between realizing he’d crash into the ocean and drowning in the water, Grayson only thought of her – the beautiful, fiery eyes that changed emotion as often as wind changed direction, the incredible ability to argue on any topic with such passion that he would goat her to go on just to enjoy the way her entire body engaged as she spoke, or the way she’d grip her thighs tighter and her hands would press deeper into his back and hips to pull him closer to her when they would make love. She was all he could think of and in the moment when he could no longer hold his breath, he had prayed she forgives him for giving up on her, on them.

How did he go from such love to thinking the worst of her?

“She’s asleep. She came to for a few seconds, but she was out like a light right after she whispered your name.” Brooks spoke, his mistrust toward Grayson and loyalty to Y/N evident immediately. The blue eyes that usually had a melancholy tone to them now bore a fire that matched Y/N’s and Grayson nearly slipped up and asked the man of his dragon patron only to remember how Y/N told him their patrons are usually a secret, a very intimate detail to be shared.

Yet she shared hers with him.

“Alright. You can go. She’s my wife and I plan on protecting her myself if need be.” Grayson knew it was unnecessary but he still felt the need to remind this overprotective knight that Y/N was indeed his and that wasn’t changing anytime soon. Perhaps it’s silly jealousy, maybe the feeling of inadequacy or the possessiveness inside, but Grayson wanted it known.

“I’ll remain close by,” Brooks responded before dragging himself out of the room. He wanted to stay and care for his friend, for his love, for his queen, but Grayson was right – he was her husband and Brooks knew she loved him. He wouldn’t stand in their way.

Sighing, Grayson looked to the ashen beauty on the bed, back to where she belongs – in their bed, by his side. But no matter how every atom in his body wanted him to lay beside her and tuck his face in the crook of her neck, the small sound made from a crib to his left had taken all his attention. Guided by his heart, Grayson walked toward his son, looking down on the sleeping child with such glee that his eyes watered immediately. He couldn’t stop shaking as he watched the little one smack his lips before sticking out his tongue ever so slightly, all with his eyes still closed.

“I named him Bailey.” Y/N’s weak voice startled him, turning back to face her without hiding the tears that flowed. Not wanting to upset the baby and make him cry, Grayson decided to talk to Y/N first and sort everything out. He missed her so much for so long that seeing her felt unreal. But he welcomed the feeling nonetheless.

“You always did love that name.” He managed a smile before he laid beside her.

“I can’t believe I missed my firstborn being brought into this world.”

“It’s okay. You weren’t exactly on vacation.” She turned on her side, her shaky hand momentarily suspended in air, just above his chest in uncertainty. It isn’t until he places a hand over hers that she lets it fall to his chest, feeling his heart beating.

“You’re really alive.” She croaked, looking at their hands placed over his chest and her eyelids flutter to keep tears away.

“And we’re really parents, huh?” Grayson smiled before bringing her hand to his lips, leaving a tender kiss on her palm.

“Yeah.” She whispered. “You better not miss our second child being born. That I won’t forgive so lightly.” She teased.

“Oh? Second?” Grayson couldn’t help but chuckle, content she’s thinking of a future with him.

Daring to look up at him, she licked her lips. “How did you manage to survive this? They said it was hopeless.”

Grayson watched her with the softest smile he could muster, noticing how in each and every line of her face there was emotion and it was there for him. She had lost the dull, empty look in her eyes and she wasn’t cold with him anymore. She was warm, very caring, very close.

“I had promised you I would always come home to you and bother you for years to come and I didn’t plan on becoming a liar so early in our marriage.” Grayson teased as he reminded her of the promise given only hours before he had imprisoned her to conquer Dracovia in her name. But he had much more to tell her and he knew she wouldn’t be as forgiving or as calm when he does.

“And earned yourself a scar there.” Tracing the cut on his right cheek, Y/N chuckled softly as he bowed his head shyly, pecking her forearm swiftly. “I think it’s sexy.” She stated, pushing herself closer to him.

“But I had help.” Grayson drew in a deep breath, looking for some strength to tell her what he had to. Unfortunately, other people had different plans as the door opened and the helping hand decided to be introduced to his wife.

“My darling dragon.”

Y/N sat up so quickly that her head hurt and her vision blurred, but she finally realized that the person she saw at the gates wasn’t a hallucination as she believed. This person was very real and Y/N connected the dots rather quickly.

“Mom?” Grayson thought she’d run into her mother’s arms and cry happy tears as she did for his return but she didn’t. Her eyes narrowed and her voice turned venomous. “How…how could you?!” She shouted, scaring Bailey into a scream-like cry. Grayson wanted to rush to his son, to hold him and offer him some solace, but Y/N needed him immeasurably more.

Before the woman has a chance to speak, Y/N had already passed her judgment. Struggling to stand, she grips the bed tightly and pulls herself up.

“I thank you for saving my husband, but I want you gone. And don’t even think of going to Dracovia.” Y/N’s eyes have never been as cold as they were when they looked at the woman she called her mother.

“Please. I…I had to do it! He would have killed me anyway. I was lucky our men were loyal to me.” The woman insisted but Y/N wouldn’t hear it.

“You left me with that monster! You left me with a man who had manipulated me every step of my life! He had killed me day in and day out! He is why I associate love with pain! I never knew what love is until Grayson! And you allowed that! You were the queen! You say the army was loyal to you?! Then why didn’t you kill him or imprison him if murder was too much to stomach?!” Y/N heaved, struggling to stand, to breathe, to even keep her eyes open. There was so much pain, so many unsaid things left inside her that wanted out that she was crumbling. Grayson held onto her, his mind exploding as his baby was screaming along with his wife – his two greatest loves both needing him and he was but a single man.

“Dracovia is mine. You’re not welcome there or anywhere near me. You once said I should never give up my crown for anyone and I won’t. Not for you.” Y/N managed to say before nodding to Brooks who was standing just behind the former queen. He was quick in removing her from the room and Y/N finally felt like she could breathe again.

“Let me help you.” Grayson mussed as he tried moving her to the bed, his own strength affected by the events of the past ten days.

“Don’t. Bailey needs help more.” She spoke firmly and calmly, but Grayson recognized the brass tone. She was upset and angry and frustrated, her emotions in shambles as her memories haunted her again.

Grayson knew it would be a losing battle to fight her on this, watching her grab onto the bed frame before letting her go and turning to get the baby. He had only ever held a baby once, but he remembered how his mother taught him – support the head and all would be good. He also made a mental note to go see his mother after for she too had suffered in his absence. She had been there for him like no one was ever there for Y/N and he had a lot of gratitude to express.

Bailey settled down rather quickly in his father’s arms, simply needing a sense of safety and a calm atmosphere. It’s as if he could feel his mother was battling her own demons but as she stilled and her tears stopped, so did his and Grayson knew it wasn’t over, but he could draw a full breath without thinking about his inhaler.

Putting the infant back in the crib, Grayson tucked him in and smiled to himself, thinking ‘We really made a beautiful baby’ before turning to his distraught wife.

“Don’t defend her…She left her child with an abusive man and she never looked back. Maybe I’d understand if I didn’t have my own little potato, but I do and I could never leave my child in such a toxic environment.” Y/N glanced at Grayson quizzically, certain he has something to say as he always does, but she just found him to be confused. “What?”

“Potato?” Grayson chuckled as he remembered how she told him she never even saw a baby in her life, only in pictures and they always reminded her of potatoes. He couldn’t wait to see her maternal instincts and love, because even though she never had a model parent or any siblings, she already acted like a good mother.

Laughing through it all, she pushed his shoulder playfully and leaned into him with an airy “Shut up” aimed at him. He thought about pointing out how she’s starting to talk more like an Astrovian, but decided against it as he put an arm around her and ran his hand up and down her shoulder.

“Look, love. You don’t have to forgive her or even speak to her if you don’t want to, but she did save my life. The submarine she was in with one of the navy armies was close by and if she didn’t order them to check what happened, I’d have drowned. In fact, I was dead. They got me back and they treated my injuries from the fall and the pulmonary edema I got from swallowing all that salty water. It’s why I couldn’t come sooner. I was trying to survive to come back to you.” Grayson felt her eyes on him as he spoke, looking down on her to catch that beautiful gaze of hers that could rob any man of his sanity.

“And I am grateful. It’s the only reason why I didn’t have her executed.” Y/N reasoned and Grayson stiffened visibly. She felt him tense up and the way he looked at her changed as well.

“Would you really do that?” He asked in disbelief, genuinely worried about what happened to his soft-hearted dragon bride. When they met she talked about unimaginable things in moments she thought to be alone, but she talked of horrors publically now.

“You have no idea what I’d do to protect my family. And I don’t trust a mother who abandons her child to save herself. Maybe one day I’ll be able to be civil with her, but I can’t even look at her now. Grayson please don’t make me.” Her eyes weren’t hard as one would expect. Her words, her thoughts hurt her and despite the unmistakably dark part of her soul, Grayson embraced her again and pressed a kiss to her forehead before letting her go. He had to ask his savior to leave, but he’d make sure the woman was secure for life concerning money. It’s the least he could do.

“Wait, please.” Y/N caught him by the wrist, curling her fingers around it. She couldn’t watch him walk away from her, not when she knew what she said shook him deeply. He wasn’t like her and he definitely would never understand that part of her – the darkness her father created couldn’t be cleared no matter how long she spent away from the man. But if she ever lost Grayson to the fiery blood that controls her, she’d be lost too.

“You must allow me to tell you how wholeheartedly I admire and love you. And if you wish for me to leave, I will do so, but I cannot lie to either of us anymore. Because I do love you. You’re why I know what love is.”

Within moments, Y/N found her lips molded to Grayson’s, stealing her breath away. He drew her fully against him and in her wonder, Y/N parted her lips on instinct. Her senses overflowed with Grayson – his hands, the touch of his lips, his tongue, his hardened length brushing her lower abdomen and his masculine scent.

Groaning, Grayson had to break the kiss. Parting, breathless, he whispered an ‘I love you’ against her lips as Y/N tried to get a grip on reality for her mind was drunk on Grayson and for a moment she thought about urging him to continue only to remember she wasn’t in any state to make love to him for a month longer.

“Really can’t wait. This month will drive me insane.” She complained, palming him through his pants, but Grayson couldn’t handle her touch when they couldn’t finish what she started. Grabbing her wrist, he growls with eyes closed and forehead resting on hers.

“We’re going to break the bed when they give us the green light, but I don’t want to hurt you. Love, I’ll wait, but for all that you hold sacred, never put your hand on my dick again if we can’t go the distance because I’ve been practically celibate and I’m not sure I’ll be able to control myself and I never want to lose control with you.”

Y/N swallowed thickly, wondering what the hell her experience would be with Grayson if he lost control because she never realized he was holding back with her. She wanted to know exactly what that entailed but she was sensible enough to wait a while longer. Even if it was insanely hard to keep her hands off him.

“Go.” She tapped his cheek and he opened his eyes eagerly, wanting to see her flushed cheeks again. Her cheeks darkening was possibly his favorite thing about her – it’s the first thing he noticed about her whenever he’d come close. It’s how he knew she was attracted to him despite her claims.

“I’ll come back. I promise.” He pressed a feathery kiss to her lips before running off, adjuting his pants in the process and she couldn’t help but chuckle, whispering to herself, “I believe you.”

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Tags: @graysavant @yaren-ates @beinscorpio @dolandolll @godlydolans @dolanstwintuesday @accalialionheart @peacedolantwins @heyits-claire @graydolan12 @gia-kerks @justordinaryjen @dopedoodes @sunshinedolantwins @pitreshawn @melodiesforari

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fierypen37 · 5 years

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The Oasis: Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Jon woke to the now-familiar torment of Daenerys curled into the curve of his body. Predictably, his morning erection ached against the small of her back. Fuck, he was ruined for sex without her now. That wicked combination of sincerity and shyness, hunger and trust made for a potent cocktail. He was hooked. Strung out on it. Just thinking about it made him want her again.

“Dany,” he whispered, floundering through her thick curtain of hair. Dany shifted in his arms, rolling over to look at him.

“What time is it?” she asked around a yawn. Jon groped for the square burner phone on the nightstand.

“Shit. We slept in. It’s ten after ten,” he said.

“Mmm, I never sleep this late. Only when I’m with you. I can’t seem to want to get out of bed,” she said with a shy smile. Gods, he was truly fucked. Head over ass in love with her.

“Me neither. I can’t stop wanting this,” Jon said, leaning close to kiss her. It started as a simple brush of lips, meant to be sweet and playful. Also, predictably, the passion caught, and soon they were kissing madly. Daenerys rolled on top of him, her mouth hot and greedy on his. Jon hummed against the seal of her mouth, hands kneading her back. His stomach gave a long embarrassing growl. Daenerys stopped all manner of delicious grinding and kissing, to his dismay. The sight of her flushed and smiling above him, violet eyes almost glowing in the half-dark, made his heart stutter in his chest.

“Maybe we need breakfast before we start up again,” she said. Jon pulled her down for another lingering kiss. He nibbled on the plush softness of her lower lip.

“Later,” he said, his voice sleep-rough and husky.

Daenerys hummed in agreement, her tongue slipping into his mouth. Jon slid his hands over the sweet lines of her body. The ticklish caress of her hair, the bumps of her vertebrae, the soft plumpness of her arse. He spread her cheeks, settling her on his hips. His cock throbbed, trapped against his belly. Daenerys broke the kiss, moving to suck along his jawline, down his throat. Half-smothered by her hair, Jon shivered at the delicate scrape of her teeth.

“Dany,” he gasped. She arched her hips in sinuous little circles, lubing him up. Jon thumped his head back on the pillow. If she kept that up, he might come before he was even inside her. The sawing of his breath rang in his ears. Breathe it down, breathe it down, idiot! He sucked in air, breathing in the lavender tang of her shampoo, the sweat and musk of sex. Jon’s hands gripped her hips, trying to urge her up, to take him inside.

“Hmm-mm, not yet,” Daenerys breathed in his ear, bending to suckle his nipple. Pleasure was a sharp-sweet burn. Sweat broke out on his face and chest.

“Please,” he whispered, reaching between them to fist his cock. Fuck, her pussy was so slick and hot against the backs of his fingers.

Daenerys rose above him, batting away his hand. Grinning wickedly, she moved above him, rubbing her clit against the weeping head of his cock. Glancing touches. Not enough. Jon uttered a sound caught between a whine and a groan. At last, she took pity on him. A breathless slide down. A slow, rocking rhythm. Yesss. Jon gasped, shuddering. Gods, she was so hot and wet around him. A silken heaven made just for him. Despite all she’s been through, Daenerys was so sweet and open with him. His eyes fogged up. Fuck! Jon clenched his eyes shut, feeling a tear leak out.

“Jon?” Daenerys said, soft with concern. Jon hid his face in his hands.

“I’m ok,” he bit the words out. Hated the thick, hoarse tone. A hot knot of emotion choked him. How fucking embarrassing! Getting all weepy during sex. Daenerys peppered his hands with kisses.

“Come here,” she whispered. Jon let her peel away his hands and sought her mouth. That was better. The hot magic of their kisses. Jon fisted handfuls of her silky silver hair, holding her head as he fucked her mouth with his tongue. Panting, she peeled back. She was so beautiful. Eyes dark with pleasure, a sheen of tears making them shine. Oh Dany, I love you. Be with me. The words rested on his tongue. He swallowed them.

“Dany, fuck me,” he said instead. Daenerys bit her lip, nodding. Straightening above him, hands braced on his chest, Dany did her level best to fuck him into the mattress. Hard, heavy strokes. Her breasts jiggled gloriously with each thrust. Through the wild veil of her hair, her lip curled into a snarl.

“Uhh, you feel so good inside me. I love having your cock in me,” she said. Jon groaned, his arousal skyrocketing up toward madness. Yesyesyes he wanted to drink her in, drown in her juice, fuck her until he couldn’t remember what it was to be without her. The madness of passion was easier than surrendering his own soul to her. The bed squeaked beneath them. He felt the tension building, heard it in her grunting little cries. He braced his heels on the bed, guiding her down, kneading her clit with his pelvis.

“Jon!” she cried as she came. Slick inner muscle fluttered around his cock, milking him. He couldn’t hold back, couldn’t so much as whimper as he came. Hot pulses of come filling her. Behind his eyes was a red-black nothing, shot through with gold. A warm, sweet emptiness where there was only him and Dany. When he could marshal his vocal cords, he hissed her name. The intensity never slackened. Nope, it was world-ending orgasms along with soul-deep intimacy. A dangerous combination. How was it this good, every time? He'd been in love before, years ago with Ygritte, and it had been that sweet consuming passion of first love. Even that paled in comparison to what he felt now.

An idle passing thought remarked on the glut of unprotected sex. Going at it every chance he got since nearly the day he met her. He always wore a condom. Always. Jon couldn’t bear the thought of getting a woman pregnant. Like father, like son. Ned Stark was a great man in many ways, and Jon adored him, but Jon could never forgive him for the circumstances of his birth. And yet . . . when he thought about Dany pregnant with his child, there was none of the ubiquitous self-loathing he usually felt whenever the thought crossed his mind. No. It terrified and delighted him in equal measure. Maybe she would marry him if she got pregnant. Maybe she would feel trapped in a relationship with him.

"Fuck," he whispered as the thunder of his heartbeat began to slow. He shoved that train of thought down deep. It didn’t matter. She was on birth control. And they had bigger problems at the moment. Daenerys gave a soft laugh.

"Eloquent as always," she said, resting her chin on his chest. Thank the gods, he could grope his way back to playful lightness. No declarations of undying love, no vows of willing sexual slavery, no blurting out worries about babies. Jon grunted, giving her ripe arse a light smack. Dany squeaked, squirming in his grip. After some playful back and forth, she nestled into his side with a sigh. The silver tumble of her hair tickled his nose but he couldn't stir himself enough to care.

Outside, he could hear the musical din of rain on the roof, and a distant grumble of thunder in counterpoint. Perfect day to laze around indoors. Or better yet, in bed.

"I love rainy days. Especially when you don't have to work. I wonder how long we can stay. It's . . . nice being here with you," he said. Wan, weak words but true nonetheless. He hoped she wouldn’t bring up his earlier weepiness.

"We could stay here a thousand years and no one would ever find us," she whispered. Fuck me. Humor, sweetness, and a deep romantic streak. In seconds, he was right back in that emotional loop. Jon's throat closed at the sentiment.

"W--We'd be very old," he croaked finally. Daenerys snorted, leveling a narrow violet look.

"Yes, well come on. I'm hungry."

Daenerys, true to form as a high-strung intellectual, was hopeless in the kitchen. The steak from the fridge was in the oven, warming in a puddle of butter and thyme. Jon set her to the task of scrambling the eggs. Salt, pepper, and a touch of milk.

"Don't rush it, Dany," Jon said, covering her hand with his on the spatula and moderating her stirring.

"It looks good enough to me," she said. The yellow puddle of egg began to congeal in the pan. A suggestive wiggle of her hips teased his groin. Jon hummed, his free hand splayed on her hip. Gods, breathing her in, teasing and touching together doing something as mundane as cooking breakfast. It made him feel giddy. Or worse, lovestruck.

"If we do it my way, it'll be edible," Jon whispered the words, punctuating them with a nibble on the curve of her ear. Her silver hair lay piled in a messy bun on top of her head, smelling of lavender shampoo and the faint tang of sweat. Hmm, she was certainly edible.

"Such exacting standards, Chef Snow," Daenerys said in a breathy tone. Jon let her stir, his hands dipping low to find the sash of her robe. Underneath, she wore a purple bra and matching panties, a shiny satin kind. Jon slipped his hand in the cup of her bra, teasing her nipple with his thumb. Couldn't keep his hands off her. Drinking in the neat shape of her, the warm energy humming on her skin.

An acrid smell curled in his nose. The roasted rosemary potatoes smoked on the island burner. Jon cursed as Dany laughed. Jon lunged and snagged the skillet. A bit over-brown on the bottom.

"Looks like I'm not the only one who's distracted," she said. Jon pulled a face in her direction while trying to salvage the potatoes.

The eggs were perfect. Fluffy and hot. The steak miraculously didn't overcook, but stayed a tender medium. Jon usually preferred his steak a bit rarer, but not bad for reheating. They both tucked in. He loved her tidy table manners, even sitting cross-legged with her robe half undone. The silence was companionable as they ate.

From the kitchen nook, the two of them could look out at the expense of the lake reflecting the deep stormy grey of the sky. Jon watched the evergreen trees sway and the rain ripple like curtains in the wind. All the terror and noise of the past couple days melted away.

"Mm, the potatoes are delicious. A bit of a smoky flavor," she said with a wink. Jon's heart stopped. In that moment, across the breakfast table after a teasing joke, he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life making her happy. Some of the humor bled from her expression as he stared, trying to jumpstart his short-circuiting brain.

"I'm sorry. I--"

"I--It's not my fault my kitchen assistant drives me distraction," he said at last.

Daenerys rolled her eyes, but the wattage of her smile returned. Jon scooped a bite of egg onto his jellied toast. Get it together. Eat your fucking breakfast.

"Yuck," Daenerys said, pointing to his toast with the prongs of her fork. Grateful for the distraction, he mustered a smile as he chewed.

"You think this is bad? Robb likes mustard on his eggs," Jon said. Daenerys wrinkled her nose.

"Mustard? The only good thing on eggs is hot sauce," she said, around a bite of steak.

"Objection, Counselor," Jon said in his best lawyer voice. Daenerys straightened in her chair, like a queen on her throne.

"Overruled. Hot sauce makes everything better. Let the record show that my opposing counsel is agreeing with me," she said. Jon chuckled, leaning back in his chair. He took a sip of tea from his mug. Delicious. The tea was a bold variety from here in the North, softened with a bit of honey. It tasted like home.

“I’m stuffed,” he said. Daenerys murmured in agreement, snagging one last bite of egg off his plate. Casually, she took his hand. A comfortable silence fell between them as they sipped their tea and watched the rain.

“I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you and your family once all this is over. How about an island? I can buy you an island in the Summer Isles.”

Jon uttered a startled laugh even as he winced inwardly. The chasm between them yawned wide. A billionaire lawyer and a two-crown construction worker? A Targaryen princess and a bastard-born black sheep? In the grand scheme of things, the money didn't matter. He was proud of what Dany had achieved, at such great personal cost. Kicking ass and spitting fire, he liked her best that way. Still . . . his pride smarted a little.

"Aim smaller," he said, occupying his hands with his mostly empty tea cup. Daenerys nibbled on her lower lip in a way that was deeply distracting.

"You're right. Individualized gifts are better. Vis has a bunch of old Targaryen memorabilia. Bran might like that. A new sloop for Rickon, a trip to the Arbor for-" Jon stoppered the sweet words with his mouth. Daenerys' lips moved, sliding against his. Pleasure was a slow, building throb.

Fuck. He was stuck right back in the thick of it. Words of undying devotion bubbled up and stuck in the back of his throat. Jon wanted to sweep the dishes off the table and ravish her right there. Just listening to her talk about gifts for his family made the future so achingly tangible. Instead, Jon kissed her, stretched awkwardly over the table (and he was pretty sure his elbow was in the butter). It didn't matter. The world fell away when Daenerys Targaryen kissed him. Jon tugged her arms and she obeyed, climbing into his lap. Tangled together. Making out like teenagers.

"What was that for?" She asked when they broke away to breathe. Violet eyes dark as twilight, Dany was just as affected as he. Jon nuzzled her cheek with his nose, pecking soft kisses on chin, her jaw, her throat. Mmm, he loved that little shiver when he found a sensitive spot.

"You're just so . . . so . . . good," he said, cringing at the inane wording. He wasn't a bleeding poet. Daenerys watched him flail with a gentle smile.

"You've worked hard to get where you are, but you still care about the little guy. It's a noble thing." The smile faded.

"Don't build me up into some shining paragon. I'm not perfect. Rising Dragon has so many arms in so many areas, I can't manage them all. And look at what my good intentions have done. A trail of bodies littered behind me." Jon playfully pinched her arse, earning a squeak.

"Fuck that. You're not responsible for the decisions others make."

Daenerys heaved a sigh.

"Yeah. Hero complex. I can't help it," she said. Her gaze wandered to the rainy day outside.

"Let's take a walk."

"In this?" Jon said with an incredulous look, “I seem to remember a certain someone hating the rain.” Daenerys squinted at him.

"I was unprepared. I seem to recall I was in spike suede heels and a silk shirt at the time. Under normal circumstances I love walking in the rain. Before Mother got sick, we would walk all over Dragonstone in the rain," she said softly. The words stirred an ancient grief for his own mother. Jon coughed.

“Let’s go, then,” he said.

They chatted as they cleaned up their breakfast dishes and dressed. Robb had left him some of the clothes left at Winterfell, supplemented by a few of Margaery’s purchases. He chose old denim jeans and a black t-shirt. Daenerys joined him downstairs in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, her hair in a single braid down her back. Jon opened the door to a gust of cold, rain-scented air swirled around them.

The rain was a cold, heavy pounding on her head and shoulders, soaking her to the skin within minutes. Cold! A gust of wind blew in from the lake, buffeting the two of them. Daenerys heard Jon curse and she uttered a shaky laugh. Northern thunderstorms were much colder than she was used to. Daenerys breathed deep of the cold, crisp air. Gods, she loved this. The peace of nature and solitude washed over her soul. Jon’s hand was warm in hers. She couldn’t look at him very long. Sustained eye contact meant she’d tumble into those dark eyes and get lost. After yet another devastatingly erotic and emotional sexual encounter this morning, Daenerys couldn’t deny it another second. Somewhere amidst the craziness of the past five days, she’d fallen in love with Jon Snow.

The ground squelched underneath their feet as they walked. Daenerys kicked water from a few puddles.

“Are you sure about this? We might catch pneumonia.”

“Where is your northern stoutness? We’ll walk to the pier and back. Besides, part of the fun is the getting clean and warm after. That tub in the bathroom looks nice,” she said. Jon’s slow, sultry smile stole her breath.

“Or the hot tub?”

“There’s a hot tub?” Daenerys asked, nudging his hip with hers playfully, “Jon Snow, you’ve been holding out on me.”

On the pier, surrounded by the din of the rain, Jon tugged her close. Their breath mingled in a thin white cloud. His face filled her vision, brooding and soulful and so overwhelmingly handsome. The kiss tasted like rain and home. Jon pressed her hand over his heart.

“It’s all yours,” he said.

#fp37fic #the oasis #jonerys #Masseur!Jon #CEO!Dany #smut

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bylagunabay · 4 years

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In Praise of MARY

MARY, KEEPER OF THE GATE (2/2)

The image is the painting of our Blessed Mother by St. Luke. And now to our incredible miracle story on the Panagia …

HOW A SAUDI ARABIAN MAN WAS MURDERED, HIS BODY CHOPPED UP YET LIVED TO TELL HOW THE PANAGIA STITCHED HIM UP BACK TO LIFE

A Saudi Arabian Moslem, appeared before several new agencies to relate the following incredible event he experienced, which changed his life (this story appeared on TV, the Internet, radio, and was circulated in newspapers, magazines, and pamphlets throughout Saudi Arbia, Syria, Palestine, and evidently in all neighboring countries).

Some years ago, this man married a very rich Moslem woman but she was sterile. As the years passed, and despite all their efforts and significant medical expenses with many doctors, they remained childless. The man’s parents suggested to him that he marry a second woman, while upholding his initial marriage (as the local laws permits up to four concurrent marriages).

Being exhausted, worried, and downhearted, he did not accept his parents’ advice but rather chose to vacation with his wife in Syria. There, they hired a limousine with a driver who would serve as tour guide for all their site-seeing excursions throughout Syria. As the vacation progressed, the driver noticed that the Saudi Arabian couple was experiencing bitterness, pain, and grief. Having gained familiarity with the couple, the driver cautiously asked them why they appeared to be so unhappy-was it perhaps because he was not conducting the tour to their satisfaction?

The couple confided to the driver that the source of their unhappiness was their inability to have children. The driver who was also a Moslem, then told them that in Syria the Christians, specifically the Orthodox Christians, have a monastery named Panagia Saidraya (Arabic word meaning Our Lady) and that many people who can’t have children take refuge to Her miracle-producing icon. They go to the monastery and there they are given to eat, the wick from the lamp which burns before the miraculous icon. And then the “Mary” of the Christians gives them according to their faith, what they wish for.

Becoming excited, the Saudi Arabian and his wife asked the driver to take them to the monastery “Saidnaya” of “The Lady of the Christians” and said that if we have a child, then I will come back and I will give you $20,000.00 US and, I will give the monastery $80,000 US. So they went to the monastery and did as they were instructed. Later they returned to their homeland and after some time the wife was found pregnant. In a few months she gave birth to a charming baby boy. It was truly a miracle of Our Lady Theotokos (Mother of God).

Now, as soon as his wife gave birth the Saudi Arabian man wanted to return to Syria to uphold the promises he had made. Upon his return he called the same driver and asked to be picked up at the Damascus airport. But the driver was cunning and wicked and he persuaded two of his friends to go to the airport with him to pick up the rich Saudi Arabian man and to take his money and kill him. So they picked up the rich man at the airport who, as they drove, without realizing that they had planned to kill him, told the friends of the driver that he would give them also $10,000 US each.

These men still not satisfied, deviated from the route to the monastery and went to a deserted place and proceeded to slay the Saudi Arabian man and to cut off his head and other parts (hands and legs) of his body into pieces. Blinded by passion and overcome by the horrific act that they just committed, they put the man’s remains in the trunk of the car rather than just leaving him there. After taking his money, watch, and all that he had, they proceeded to find another deserted place to discard the remains.

Then on the National highway, their car broke down and stopped in the middle of that road. The three men got out to determine why the engine had stalled. Then a passerby stopped to help them but they, afraid that their terrible act would be discovered, pretended that they did not need any help. But as the passerby motorist was leaving, he noticed blood dripping from the rear of the vehicle and he called the police to investigate because the scene and the three men looked suspicious. The police came and they saw the blood under the car and on the pavement so they ordered that the trunk be opened.

Well, when the opened the trunk, lo and behold, the Saudi Arabian man lifted himself out, obviously and amazingly alive and in good health, saying to them “Just now this PANAGIA finished stitching my neck, right here (showing them the area of his Adam’s Apple), after first stitching up the rest of my entire body”. Seeing this, the three criminals immediately lost their minds-becoming like mad. The police handcuffed them and as they were being taken away to an asylum for the insane, the criminals started raving that it could not be possible that the Saudi Arabian man whom they killed, beheaded, and dissected could yet be alive.

The Saudi Arabian went to a medical facility to undergo examination by doctors and medical examiners who confirmed and attested that the stitching was done very recently, thereby validating the miraculous event. The stitches were, and still are, obvious. When the Saudi Arabian came out of the car’s trunk, he had the appearance, literally, of just having been refabricated (put back together) to which he continuously confessed that the PANAGIA had rejoined his body and resurrected him with the help of her Son.

Immediately after this, the Saudi Arabian called his relatives to come to Syria and they all went together to the monastery of Panagia Saidnaya and offered up prayers, praises, and glorification, and instead of the initial gift of $80,000 US (which was promised), he gave $800,000 US to the Theotokos.

Today, as this man relates the details of that overwhelming miracle, he starts his narration with “When I was a Moslem this happened to me” this indicating he is not longer a Moslem, as neither is his family.

This miracle stunned with awesome surprise the entire Arabic/Moslem nation and all of the Middle East.

Source: http://full-of-grace-and-truth.blogspot.com/2009/01/great-miracle-in-syria-and-convent-of.html

#catholic #orthodox #mary #virgin mary #theotokos #mother of god #panagia #st. luke #miracles #icon #blessed mother

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thedragonsexcalendar · 5 years

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The Great Re-Branding (Logo) of 2019

Stupid Font

Back in 2015, when the first edition of the Dragon Sex Calendar (DSC) was released—I had designed the whole thing with zero anticipation of longevity. The calendar was simply a silly concept, yet one that might have a chance of succeeding, due to its stupidity alone. So I hired artists to paint gorgeous images of dragons banging, designed the calendar, built an accompanying Word Press website modeled after a Harry’s Razor’s website (LoL). I did all of this just to prove to myself that I could do it. Nike status. It was one of those ideas that if I didn’t follow through on I’d beat my self up for eternity about. Just like not telling that special someone you loved them, or not being able to apologize for something wicked you said to someone in your youth and you have no way of finding them now to properly apologize. I never anticipated that the 2015 Dragon Sex Calendar would sell out—elevated to cult status thanks to a post on Reddit in a subreddit called r/thisiswhyimbroke (thanks Adam at thisiswhyimbroke.com, BTW). So, all this to say that in that hustle and bustle of creating the first DSC I went with one of the first fonts I found on dafont.com that I felt worked. Times have changed. And I hate my current font. Sorry, "Motion Picture" font! I will always appreciate you.

Branding Crisis

Ever since the aftermath of the success of the Dragon Sex Calendar, I’ve had a branding crisis. I’ve been battling between two different "company” personas. How do I present myself? How seriously do I take myself? Do I position the calendar as a super-serious piece of art and market it that way? Or position it as a silly product, filled with subversive humor—marketing it under the guise of “seriousness,” (and everyone is in on the joke). These types of questions have had a big impact on the overall design over the years—everything from the printed calendar itself to the website, and especially the logo. The results have been a weird hodgepodge of both ideas. A deformed hybrid. This is what the homepage looked like back in 2015. Quite charming actually.

Sad Interlude

Short interlude. I’ve had a rough 2019. My wife and I miscarried twice. In May of this year, my brother Philip died in a car accident. He left behind a pregnant fiancée, who gave birth to my nephew Sullivan a month ago (he’s the spitting image of his dad BTW and I’m going to spoil the fuck out of him). The grief around the loss of my brother and our miscarriages has drained me mentally, spiritually, and emotionally. It’s impacted my relationship with everyone in my life. I’m quicker to anger than before. Things stress me out easier. I’ve had trouble focusing. But, I’m getting better. I’m aware of my grief and my “new normal” and am trying to forgive myself for setbacks but also work harder on loving those around me. All this to say I haven’t able to focus on the calendar or put much energy into it at all. For the last few years, and during all the heartache this year, I’ve known that I’ve needed to fully dive into the Dragon Sex Calendar as a brand. I’ve been ignoring it and taking it for granted. And in a way, refocusing on it has been a bit healing for me. It’s a place to put all this energy. And the first step in diving back in has been to get some professional help.

Re-Branding

Yes, I’m seeing a therapist but I’m talking about a BRANDING therapist. Enter Seafoam Media out of St. Louis. One last thing—my brother left me some money when he died. His best man speech at my wedding he spoke about how proud he was of me, at the man I’d become, and how I’d always followed my dreams, no matter how stupid. This was a direct reference to the Dragon Sex Calendar. The only way I could have ever afforded to work with a creative agency was through his grace. Thank you, Philip. I love you.

I’ve met with the agency, Seafoam Media, a few times now—most recently this last month. I a 4-hour brainstorming session with their team of experts; the social media person was there, along with the google analytics person, the copywriter, and mega supervisor who knows everything. They gave me some insanely solid advice. I’ll go into that in another post. Needless to say, the Lil’ coal in my heart was ignited by the kindling of creativity. (Barf-worthy analogy).

I’ve been making updates to the website over the last month. Which, if you’re a regular visitor you’ve probably noticed. This will continue to be updated as I come up with more and more ways to optimize and bring you guys value. Because that’s the whole point. To build a community of people who love this stupid-ass calendar and return time and again to look at my content. I can’t wait to engage with you people.

via GIPHY

On to the crux of the branding crisis. In many ways, the logo IS the product. It IS the company. "It is known." (said like Ygritte from GoT).

A good logo adds an extreme amount of value. Knowing this and not doing anything about it is something I’ve been struggling with for 5 years. And it’s finally time for a change. So this font is what I’ve been using since 2015. I want to take this “logo,” wood-burn it into a baseball bat, wrap the baseball bat with barbed-wire, and pay someone to shove the barb-wire-wrapped baseball bat up my ass 3X.

Although I’m an Art Director by day, I’m shitty at logo design. Super shitty. And tbh, sometimes the last thing on earth I want to do when I get home from designing things all day is to do more design work. So….I’ve hired an amazing agency to design a new logo for the Dragon Sex Calendar. Check out their website https://coldcastlestudios.com. This shit is amazing. Here are some samples of their logos:

My direction to them in this process was literally, "We realize how stupid the product is but we're positioning ourselves as if we take ourselves completely seriously.” With that in mind, here is a sneak peek, guys, of the preliminary look and feel of the logo. I put a bunch of ridiculous watermarks over the logo for some reason. The next round is going to include a design with a frame around the logo, a la the World of Warcraft logo—to see if that looks good and serves the logo.

I simply cannot fucking wait to reveal it to all of you. I will finally have a brand. This brand will live across all print and social media. It’s the next chapter in my company. And I couldn’t be more excited. This logo will provide the base for future, ridiculous calendars, pins, coloring books, electric cars, personal spacecraft, and dolphin tattoos. Let me know what you think of the preliminary design in the comments below. I love you all!

#new logo #branding #new branding #dragon sex calendar

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whatzaoverwatch · 6 years

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The Demon’s Bride (Part 12)

Suspense, plans, excitement! What will happen next? Only I will know (lmao I thought this fic was going to be shorter than the last one but it just might be a few parts longer) First Previous Next

Female Pronouns

You had no clue when you passed out. Last thing you recalled was Hanzo beginning to attack Genji. Watching as both of their spirits clashed between the both of them. It was a dance and wonder that you couldn’t have imagined. But then you felt uneasy in your stomach. You found yourself slumping back against the tree, falling into a sudden slumber.

You felt cold, empty, and alone in a veil of darkness. You were unsure of what was happening and something told you that you shouldn’t be here. A sudden flicker passed your vision. It seemed to be Hanzos spirits. They floated around your form. Letting their scales tickle against your skin. Strangely watching them roam around your abdomen. Nuzzling close into your stomach with a protective purr. Reaching down to try to pet them, they quickly looked to you. Just then, a voice captured your ear.

“Protect the heir.” Blinking rapidly, it looked as if the dragons were telling you this. Looking down to your stomach, you watched them nudge close to your skin.

You were confused until you had a sudden epiphany. The sickness, the clothes, the change of food. How much the spirits were lingering close to you. There was only one explanation for it.

Just as you were putting the pieces together, two hands suddenly found themselves wrapped around your neck. Gasping sharply at the claws that dug into your skin. Your hands moving away from your stomach causing the spirits to roar and flare into a hellish red. Gripping your hands against the wrists that held onto the strangulation, you squirmed in the darkness as you felt your life draining before you. Eyes frantically looking for the source of the choking. Their grip against you pricked your flesh, blood gently seeping onto its fingers. You weakly cried as a familiar glowing pair of eyes staring down at you. The air escaping you as the perpetrator revealed himself. Hanzo, filled with anger and rage as he tightened his hold on your throat. Shaking your head, you pleaded with horrified tears only to scream in pain. Shutting your eyes until you felt a complete release.

You gasped and shook yourself awake, sitting up in complete sweat. Your hair a complete mess over your face. Panting for air as you felt the cool air ghost against your skin. Quickly touching your neck, you felt a burning sensation causing you to hiss in pain. Observing your environment, you had only realized that you were no longer in the forest.

You weren’t even in Hanzo’s chambers. You were back in your own quarters from before your marriage. Why would you be back here? Did Hanzo take you back? Turning over to the vanity of the room, you looked at yourself in the mirror. Finding a sudden red mark formed against your neck. Your fingers trembled at the lines causing you to look downwards. Ghosting your hand over your stomach wondering if it was real. It felt real. The pain still lingered in your body. But something was certain now that you pressed your palm against your stomach.

You were pregnant, how could you have not known? The signs all pointed to it. You were too bewildered by Hanzo and discovering the source of his hatred to not be aware of your own conditions. It probably explained why the Elders were so watchful of your condition. But did Hanzo know of it?

In the midst of your thoughts, you heard a knock on the door. A soft voice spoke until they opened the door. It seemed to be the very servant that was always there after you spoke to Genji. In their hands was a tray with what seemed to be a tea set. Steaming a little as if it was just brewed fresh. They bowed with a sigh of relief as they approached you.

“Ah, my lady, you are awake,” They softly hummed as they approached your bedside, “Thought I would offer you some tea.”

“How did I get here?” You questioned feeling a rawness in your throat as you spoke. The servant clicked their teeth in displeasure before placing the tray before you.

“You just about passed out during your stroll. Gave The Elders quite a scare when they found you unconscious.”

“Why wasn’t I taken to Hanzos quarters?”

“All are forbidden from his quarters. Only the two of you are to reside within those walls. That is the law.”

“Where is Hanzo?” They seemed to tap their fingers rapidly at that statement. Not addressing it as they continued.

“He is still attending to his distant business. He will return within the week,” No, that couldn’t have been true. You just saw him. You knew those visits with Genji were true. Did he not return to the estate when he got home? You were going to call them out, but if they had discovered your secret outings, then you feared you would be concealed within the walls forever. Puzzled, you stared at the tea and slowly reached for it, “You must be careful, we wouldn’t want anything to happen to the Lords wife and heir.”

Before you reached for the cup you stilled your hand. Turning over to the curious look of the servant.

“Heir?” They gave you a crooked smile and nodded in content.

“Why yes, demons have been well known to sense other demons no matter their conditions. Forgive me for not giving my congratulations,” Gesturing to your abdomen they chuckled, “It is a strong one, as expected of the Shimada clan. The Elders sensed it within you after your ailment earlier in the month. It shouldn’t be long until they arrive.”

So you were right, you were pregnant. From what you studied about the demons, is that the pregnancy of the demon was much shorter than that of mortals. Where it took nine months for a mortal could only be a few for a demon. But you were still human, you barely showed signs of being pregnant besides a slight bump and bigger clothes. It was a month since the first signs, so it was hard to say how much longer you had. Were you to expect the birth in between the time gap? Furrowing your brows, you slowly ghosted your hand over the cup observing the demon.

“Wouldn’t it be wiser to inform the carrier that she was pregnant?” The demons grin twitched a little before sighing. Placing their hand above yours, pushing your hand towards the cup.

“Indeed, but they didn’t predict the pregnancy to happen as soon as it did,” They nodded and brought the tea cup to your lips, “Now drink, you must keep your energy up.”

You finally gave them the relief as you took a tiny sip of the tea. It tasted awfully bitter, and had a strange after taste. But nevertheless you took the drink slowly. They looked relieved as they got up.

“Good, now take your time and relax,” They got up and began to move towards the door, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I must attend to the Lord. He is very demanding of his work I am sure you are aware of that.”

You halted yourself from taking another sip and looked towards the servant. Frowning as you spoke in a firm tone.

“You said that Hanzo wasn’t going to be home until later in the week.” They halted their steps before they could leave. Seeing them shift a little in their stance. You could instantly feel something uneasy in their presence.

“Oh…yes of course, my mistake. These are instructions he provided before his arrival.” They stammered out as if they were hiding something. Placing your drink to the side, you sat upright.

“Hanzo is here isn’t he?” They hesitated in their response causing you to become more suspicious. If he was here, then why didn’t he see you? Setting the tray away you scowled at the demons back, “I want to see Hanzo.”

“I’m sorry My Lady, but he is fairly busy a-“

Not wanting to take any more of these lies, you slowly began to pull the sheets away from your form to get out of bed.

“It’s fine, I am going to see him myself.” You firmly stated.

The servant spun around towards you and quickly went over to your side. Trying to keep you firm onto the futon.

“My Lady, you mustn’t get up. Just relax with your tea and it’ll be fine.” You slowly shook the demon away as you tried to get up.

“I am not relaxing until I see Hanzo. Let me go.” You declared finding the servants grip on you to be a little too firm.

“Lady [Name],” They became a little a bit sterner in their tone as if they were a parent. You felt your body weaken in their grasp, “The Elders have instructed me to keep you in bed. So rest back, drink your tea, and do not go out of line.”

Feeling as if you had no control over your life. Like you were back with your caretaker at home. Being told what to do under the eyes of your parents. Your family that the Elders seemed to never let you see. You were sick of these Elders having control of everything. Pushing the demon away, you got up quickly with a hardened glare.

“Let go of me! I am tired of being told what to do by everyone I see with no reason. I no longer want to be scolded like I am a child. I am Lady [Name] Shimada and I demand to see my husband!”

You strode towards the door, ignoring the pleas from the servant. You slid the screen door open into the darkened halls. Just as you were about to step outside, a cold aura wavered behind you, as the demons voice trickled down your spine.

“I wouldn’t leave if I were you, mortal.”

Just as you were about to question them, you felt your legs become heavy. Your body becoming too weak to hold itself up. Finding your breath becoming shallow and weak. Your skin forming into a complete sweat. Moving your foot only caused you to lean against the frame. Gasping for air until you collapsed onto the ground. Head spiraling as the demon lurked above you. Trembling and shivering, you glanced up to the demons wicked smile as they looked at your distraught. Eyes blood red while you tried to hold your ground.

“W-What…ngh…did you do to…me?” They shook their head and parted away some of your loose locks over your face. Chuckling to themselves as you struggled away from their touch.

“Nothing for you to worry about, just relax,” they mocked in a heavy tone as you felt yourself getting picked up, “Soon you will be free from your only purpose in your pitiful life.”

Blinking deliriously, you struggled against their grasp as you found yourself back upon the sheets. Watching as the demon stroked its knuckle against your cheekbone with a hiss.

“W-What do you…want from me?” You croaked in your gasped breaths. The demon snickered and patted your head gently.

“It’s not what I want…it’s what The Elders want. An heir to the throne,” As you drifted off, the demons final words left you in a complete state of fear in your sleep, “And the brides soul to nourish upon.”

To be continued

#overwatch #overwatch scenarios #overwatch imagines #overwatch au #hanzo #hanzo shimada #hanzo x reader #demon hanzo #only a shimada can control these tags #overwatch x reader

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jisforjudi · 6 years

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Finty Williams: Me and my mum, Judi Dench

As Finty Williams stars in a role her mother, Judi Dench, played to acclaim, she tells Andrew Billen about the joy and pain of being in a famous family

Andrew Billen

September 28 2018, 12:01am, The Times

During a play’s rehearsal period, the most likely moment a journalist will interview its star is over lunch. This is often unsatisfactory. The reporter finds the actor’s mind still half in the rehearsal room; the actor, between answers, barely gets through a sandwich. So I am pleased that Finty Williams, who is in a revival of Hugh Whitemore’s subtly anguished 1983 play Pack of Lies, agrees instead to see me at the end of a day’s rehearsals at the Menier Chocolate Factory in south London.

Now we are talking in its bar, however, she seems to me exhausted: vulnerable and unsure. It is a perception, admittedly, enhanced by her pale skin and slight frame. Still, it cannot be good when an actress answers a question about what she is doing next with “probably run a cat home on a Greek island” or describes herself as a participant in a race in which her mother is hundreds of places in front of her.

Judi Dench is a subject hard to avoid when interviewing Williams, and impossible to do so today. This is the first London production of Pack of Lies since it opened at the Lyric Theatre, London, in 1983 when Dench was cast in the very part that Williams, her daughter, plays now. When I ask if this a coincidence, Williams’s riposte is: “You’d have to ask somebody else that.” I could, but what could the theatre say other than that she is the best actress for the role? No doubt she is, but in a wicked world where publicity angles sell tickets, the reply might not tell the whole story.

The play is based on a true espionage case from the early Sixties. The Jacksons, a suburban London couple, are approached by Special Branch for permission to spy from their bedroom window on their friends, the Krogers, across the road. The Canadian bookseller, Peter, and his vivacious wife, Helen, are, in fact, Soviet spies. Williams plays Barbara Jackson, whose fate is to discover that she has been lied to by Helen and must betray her best friend back. In a coda, we learn that she dies soon after the Krogers’ unmasking. This is not true of the real “Barbara”, Ruth Search, but the play ends with a death knell.

An intense day of rehearsal, I suggest to Williams, sensing her mood. “Really intense because it’s a play about spies, obviously, but it’s also a play about friendship,” she says. Friendship, I shall discover, is a delicate subject for her.

Williams, who was 46 this week, remembers finding the play intense in performance when she first saw, or rather heard it, many times, from the Lyric’s dressing room. She was 12 and her father, Michael Williams, was in it too, as Barbara’s husband. Her godmother, Barbara Leigh-Hunt, played Helen. “I remember being very upset by the end,” she says. “Really shocked.”

Dench and her husband acted on stage several times together, and enjoyed it. However, when Dench became M in the James Bond franchise in 1995 and when, four years later, she won an Oscar for Shakespeare in Love, equivalence in their two careers was destroyed. Michael Williams was hugely proud of Dench, their daughter says, but Hollywood can be “quite a ruthless place if you’re the plus-one”. She says: “I think he found that very difficult.”

The question that she will have heard before (oh, imagine the number of times) is how difficult it is for her, as an actress, to be the daughter of Britain’s greatest actress. Her sensible reply is that if she had entered the profession wanting to be either as good or famous as Dench, she would have set herself up for a fall. She did not. The problem is other people. “A lot of people want to go, ‘She’s not as good as her mother,’ which is true, but I can also name you another 80 people who probably aren’t as good.”

Does it piss her off? “It pisses me off being pre-judged. That pisses me off, pisses me off hugely. Just because I don’t think it’s fair. I don’t know whether, if your father is a brain surgeon, people go, ‘He’s not as good a brain surgeon as his father.’ I don’t know whether that happens, but because of who Ma is, a lot of people have an opinion, which they form before they get to know me or before they see what I can do.”

A terrible thought occurs to me. Theatre critics go on for so long in this country that there must be at least one who will review this new Pack of Lies having seen the original. (Sure enough, I later find The Guardian’s Michael Billington reviewed it in 1983 and singled out for praise Dench’s “totally unpatronising portrayal” of Barbara. As she tended to, she later won an Olivier for it.)

“Oh, don’t worry,” Williams says. “I’ve had that thought about a month ago. I’d put about £100 on the fact that it’s going to be mentioned at least once. There’s no escaping that. There is no escaping the fact that people are going to go, ‘Well, she’s not as good as her mum was,’ but do you know what? I’d really like people to come and see it with an open mind.

“If it was Grand National day, she [Dench] is up and leaping Becher’s Brook and I’m in the novice race at the beginning, and you think about all the hundreds of actors between me and her. She is jaw-dropping, but I also happen to think that Helen McCrory is jaw-droppingly brilliant. I happen to think Ruth Wilson is jaw-droppingly brilliant. Zoë Wanamaker. I don’t aspire to be any of those people. I’m me, and I’ve got the cards that I’ve been dealt.”

Her hand is undoubtedly a tricky one, not because she is not close to her mother, but more likely because she is, very. In her twenties she lived with her parents in London, notoriously burning down their house one night having fallen asleep next to a lighted candle. “Just a shit thing that happened,” she says, unhappily. In her thirties she lived with Dench, who was by then widowed, in Surrey, and although she has long since moved out, she talks to me of the “production” that Christmas Day always is for the family in her mother’s home.

She had not intended to follow her parents’ vocation. As a girl she aspired to be a dancer, but did not grow into the kind of willow that was prized. Instead she successfully auditioned for a children’s TV show and, while continuing with her A levels, went into a play with McCrory. At the Central School of Speech and Drama she tellingly studied musical theatre, a genre that her mother was not known for. Her final college show was A Little Night Music. A year later, wouldn’t you know it, Dench won an Olivier for the musical at the National.

That was in 1996. The next year Williams, then 25, became a single parent (the father’s name has never been made public). Neither Dench nor her husband discovered she was pregnant until a few weeks before Finty gave birth. Dench’s director at the National Theatre, Richard Eyre, later said that Dench was “massively wounded” by not being told — although it is likely that it was Michael Williams, a traditional Catholic, whom Finty had feared telling more. In the end, naturally, Williams Sr came round. “Who couldn’t be pleased with Sammy in your midst,” she says. He is now 21 and travelling. “He’s an excellent chap.”

Since Pack of Lies is about secrets, I wonder what her take on that period of secrecy is. “Oh, man! No, it is not helpful. It was something that happened to me when I was really young,” she says, adding that she should be allowed to move on from her mistakes. “Bringing it up brings back those old feelings. ‘Oh yes, I remember how that feels: it makes you feel pretty shit.’ ”

After her father died of lung cancer in 2001, Williams hit some terrible times, but pulled herself out from under them four years later when she entered a clinic for her alcoholism. She has not drunk since. “It was a whole mixture of things . . .” she begins and peters out. Her head sinks almost until it hits the table. “I suppose a lot of it was I didn’t feel pretty enough, or talented enough, or funny enough, or interesting enough. I always felt the most interesting things about me were things that weren’t about me.”

But possibly to do with her parents? “Yes. And not many — and I really do stress not many — but there are a few people I have met in my life who have reinforced that feeling. Maybe they were friends with me for reasons other than being friends with me.” This was all a long time ago, she says. She is now “incredibly happy”, “very well” and “very, very content”.

“It doesn’t mean I still don’t sometimes feel how I used to feel, but now, what do I do now? I watch reality television and I drink tea and I eat a Terry’s Chocolate Orange and I get on with it.”

She has done rather more than that. She has worked consistently as an actress, in films such as The Secret Rapture and Gosford Park, on television in Cranford and Born and Bred, and most frequently on stage, including with her mother in The Vote at the Donmar Warehouse in 2015. Performing at the Globe in Nell Leyshon’s Bedlam in 2010, she met the actor Joseph Timms and they have been together ever since. With Timms, she says. she “won the lottery”.

“Genuinely, I am so content. Funnily enough, about two months ago somebody sent me a thing on Facebook and it said, ‘Wanted, person 40 years plus, to go out to a Greek island to look after 55 cats for seven months. Accommodation supplied. You will be paid per month. Please apply.’ And do you know what? There was a part of me that thought, ‘Yeah, I could do that.’

“We’re all puppies at the end of the day. We’re all puppies who do a job and go, ‘Please like us! Please like us!’ I needed that at one point in my life. Actually, I’ve got to a stage where I could go and look after 55 cats on a Greek island and I would be just as happy.”

I really hope she doesn’t because while she may not be the marvellous Dame Judi, plenty regard her as the marvellous Finty Williams. This is not flattery. After we part, on good terms I think, I contact three directors who have worked with her.

The first to reply is Michael Attenborough, who as Richard’s son knows something about families that cast shadows. Directing her in JB Priestley’s Dangerous Corner four years ago, he discovered, he says, a “Rolls-Royce”. He speaks of her “effortless sensuality”, her “sense of humour” and her “energy within”. “If I was putting a company together I would have Finty in it any day.”

Roy Marsden, best known as Adam Dalgliesh in the ITV PD James adaptations, directed her in Noël Coward’s Volcano in the West End in 2012. He extols a “delicate, beautiful talent” with whom it was “a delight” to rehearse. “Her facility as an actor is enormous, but her own self-doubt, I know, frightens her. Yet as soon as she walks on to the stage from the wings it all disappears and you go, ‘Wow!’ ”

Finally, the actress Eve Best, who directed her as Lady Macduff in Macbeth at the Globe in 2013, comes back to me. “Finty,” she says, “has that rare mix of heart-shattering vulnerability and a sort of flinty toughness that says, ‘Don’t f*** with me.’ Utterly brave, utterly generous, ready to put her heart on the line.”

Attenborough says one other thing. In rehearsal Williams, he says, “gives everything”. He is not at all surprised that I should find her somewhat spent by 4.30 in the afternoon. “She gives her all.” She has given me her all too. Next time we meet, let’s settle for a lunchtime sandwich. Pack of Lies is at the Menier Chocolate Factory, London SE1, to November 17

picture credits

1) Finty Williams and her mother, Judi Dench (DAVE M. BENETT/GETTY IMAGES)

2) CHRIS MCANDREW FOR THE TIMES

3) Jasper Britton, Chris Larkin, Macy Nyman and Williams in Pack of Lies

4) Williams in 2000 with Michael, her father, and DenchMICHAEL CRABTREE/PA

#judi dench #finty williams #pack of lies #1888 #28sep2018

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sweetness47 · 6 years

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Sweet Revenge

Pairing Cas x reader

This is for @maggyme13 and #maggies300challenge

Prompts used: Boys, lets do this! Combined with You know who I am. You don’t know where I am, and you’ll never see me coming

Warnings: fluff, fear, maybe angst, smut?, taunting, mentions of torture, abuse, assault…MATURE CONTENT ONLY!!! NO ONE UNDER 18!!!

Summary: Revenge is just around the corner, payback for something awful that happened to you on your 21st birthday. But when your tormentor turns the tables and begins hunting you, can you still come out on top?

Three years ago:

I can feel the cold dampness in the air, my head feels like it’s caught in a vice. Every muscle in my body aches, I don’t even know what day it is anymore. One moment I was in my motel room, the next I was being raped, beaten, burned, cut, all because I was a Winchester. Fucking demons. It’s dark, and the only company I get is either the occasional rat, or a demon looking for some fun. I’m chained, and kept naked…easy access and I can’t fight back. I get food occasionally, though not often. Once in a while it’s semi-decent.

I can see now out of my left eye, it was touch and go at first, they beat my face pretty bad when they first took me. I pray my brothers find me, or I die from hypothermia. At least that would be better than having to endure one more of those demonic asswipes forcing themselves on me.

A scream followed by sounds of fighting grabs my attention, and from what I’m hearing, the demons are the ones losing. Finally! Relief floods my senses as I hear my name called. “Here!” I shout, my voice hoarse but loud enough to signal my whereabouts.

It’s Castiel who finds me first, releases my bonds and gives me his trenchcoat to cover myself. I attempt to stand but my legs give way, weak from lack of nutrition and the constant stream of assault. Cas picks up my small frame and carries me to where my brothers are taking care of the rest of the demon scum. They see me and both are hugging me, showering me with kisses and concern. They take me out of there, and back to the bunker, where I spend a good hour or two showering, washing off the filth and the blood, silently crying, silently thanking whatever power helped Sam and Dean, and Cas, find me and rescue me.

Present:

Even three years later I still get the occasional nightmare. I wake up in a cold sweat, screaming, then strong arms surround me, comforting me. Cas is there stroking my hair and calming me down. He has been my solid rock since he helped rescue me. I don’t know exactly when the falling in love happened, but I can’t imagine it any other way.

We hunt other monsters as needed, but when we aren’t busy, we work on finding out who orchestrated my kidnapping those years ago. Now we have the culprit, we just need to find him. Asmodeus seems to elude us at every turn, and it’s frustrating as hell. No one wants to find and ask for Lucifer’s help, even though I think it’s a decent option. Mary suggests Jack helps find Asmodeus, but so far that has been a dead end as well. It’s not that I don’t think Jack can do it, he certainly has the power. I think Asmodeus is blocking him somehow, though I can’t imagine how, since the first time I saw those two square off, Jack kicked his ass.

Among the unanswered questions, is the one that still baffles everyone, especially me…Why did this happen to me. Cas already exhausted all his contacts, and we have done massive loads of research, but to no avail. No one has come up with a reason, or can find a reason. So far as anyone knows, I’m human, so it’s not a power thing. I’ve never run across Asmodeus before, so its not payback for him.

My phone rings, and I don’t recognize the number. Everyone falls silent as I answer the phone, putting it on speaker. “Hello?” I say the greeting with reluctance, dread creeping up my spine.

“Y/N. So pleased to finally hear your voice.” Came the drawl of Asmodeus. I shuddered.

Bile rose in my throat but Cas gently laid a hand on my shoulder, willing me to remain calm. I did, barely. “You sick son-of-a-bitch, what the hell do you want?”

He sounded surprised at my question as he answered. “Why, I thought that would be obvious, it’s you Y/N, that’s what I’ve always wanted. You, with your royal blood, are a perfect match for a whole new line of demons, ones that would be unstoppable.”

Royal blood? Me? Fuck, Fuck, Fuck!!! That’s all I need, not that I know what the hell he’s talking about. When I remain silent, he speaks again. “You’re wondering why I called you royal. No surprise, since you were a newborn infant when you were placed in the care of the Winchesters.” Now I’m intrigued.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I ask, enraged at the audacity of this ‘prince’.

A wicked chuckle comes from the phone. “Your true birthright Y/N. As for your kidnapping, you weren’t to be harmed, that I was very upset about. You were supposed to be kept safe and prepared for my arrival. You were to be my intended, my bride.”

I visibly paled and my stomach gave way, its contents landing on the floor, and my shoes. Cas pulls me close, as if to protect me, and I sink into his warm embrace. “So then who are my parents?” I had to ask, not that this could get any weirder, or maybe it could.

“Well dear, that’s a funny story. Remember how the bible tells the story of Jesus, God came and got a virgin pregnant, etc…” he paused for effect, “You were created by God’ sister, Amara. She slept with a guy, well you know how that goes.”

I blinked, unsure of what I was hearing, shocked was an understatement. I hung up the phone, not wanting to hear anymore. I ran from the dining area, not stopping till I was inside my bedroom. My whole world turned upside down, and I buried my face in my hands. My whole body shook as sobs escaped my mouth, everything I thought I knew about myself was just gone, gone in a matter of minutes.

Those strong arms I’d come to love were around me suddenly, and I leaned into him, tears spilling over his coat, his shirt. “Why Cas, why?” was all I could say. I felt used, and I felt stupid at not seeing this sooner, my heritage reduced to a creation to spite God, to make a new breed of demon to destroy angels for good?

Castiel’s gentle hands cupped my face as he brought his lips to mine. The kiss was soft, caressing my mouth, soothing the pain and tears. “Y/N, you aren’t to blame for this. Please don’t be hard on yourself. You’re a good person, and there’s no way in hell that I will ever let him or anyone else touch you ever again.” He kissed me again, and I turned to him, accepting the kiss, needing to forget, needing to be distracted. Cas didn’t disappoint, moving his hands to remove my blouse, then my bra. He began kneading my breasts, rubbing his thumb gently across my nipples, extracting a moan from my lips, a moan that was swallowed by his kisses.

I move to take off his coat, shirt, tie, and his response is one of intensity, pushing me down onto the mattress. Hands are removing pants and underwear, his and mine, then he is inside me, giving me the distraction I so desperately need. Our bodies move rhythmically, both synchronized to the needs of the other. Then with a cry from both of us, we find release at the same time. He holds me then while I sleep, keeping his promise to keep me safe.

I’m awakened by a voice in my head. I look around the room but see no one other than my beautiful sleeping angel. Quietly as I can, I dress and take a walk around the bunker, trying to find the source of the voice, but my searching comes up empty. I hear it again, calling to me, and I walk outside, not feeling any danger, just a weird sense of, well, weird. Then I see her, standing in front of me, her smile greets me, and she moves to hug me, but I step back.

“Who are you?” I demand, though I fear I know.

“You know the answer to that already my child.” Amara addresses me. “I am your mother.”

My eyes grow blurry, as I struggle to maintain my composure. There are a lot of unanswered questions for this woman who claims to be my birth mother. “If that’s true, then explain how. You were locked up until about 2 years ago.”

“True, however, I am a deity. I simply projected my astral form as a solid mass and created you. Yes, the original intent was to wed you to Asmodeus, but I decided against it last minute. Once I formed you and brought you forth, I couldn’t bear the idea of him having you, so I hid you until I couldn’t keep you safe here, then I sent one of my followers to deliver you to the Winchester’s door step. You had a much better chance of survival there than you did with me in that cage.” Her voice waivered, almost remorseful at her actions.

My eyes narrowed. “And where were you and your ‘followers’ when I was held captive, raped and beaten three years ago? I went through HELL, and no one came to save me except my brothers and Castiel.” The tears are falling freely now, I can no longer hide my anger and frustration. I realize that angering her could be dangerous, but I just can’t contain it.

Her eyelids lowered, and she heaved a sigh. “That should never have happened. When I heard about that happening to you, I was furious. That’s what gave me the strength to reach out from my cage and find someone to free me. I would have rescued you myself if not for those damn restraints.” Tears now fall from her eyes, and she whispers. “I’m sorry I failed you my daughter.”

That’s when my phone rings again, and it’s the same number as before. I motion for Amara to remain silent as I put the phone on speaker. “What the hell do you want now?”

Asmodeus chuckles. “Are we starting with that questioning again? You know who I am. You don’t know where I am, and you’ll never see me coming. I’m going to have you one way or another Y/N.”

It was Amara who spoke. “Over my dead body Asmodeus. You will never have my daughter. The deal is off. How dare you presume to think you still have a claim to her, especially after your goons treatment of her.”

The click on the other end of the phone was pretty clear of his response. Amara smiled and a clear location, complete with directions of how to get there, popped into my head. I blinked and looked over at my ‘mother’, who winked at me, and left. The directions were to find Asmodeus. I went back inside the bunker and began mapping where this location landed us.

By the time the boys and Cas strode into the kitchen, I had a map laid out with the location circled, and a complete breakfast ready to eat, including pancakes, bacon, eggs, and sausage. I made enough to feed an army, which Sam and especially Dean, qualify as, and while they ate, I explained what had transpired during the night.

“Y/N, are you crazy? What the hell were you thinking going outside alone, especially when that bastard Asmodeus is still after you!” Dean’s words rang through the bunker, a mixture of concern and anger on his face. Sam and Cas were just as worried at what I had done, their looks mirrored Dean’s. I sighed. “Look, I know you’ve had some pretty crazy news recently. Your mind is reeling with the whole ‘Amara’ thing, and the whole ‘betrothal to Asmodeus’ thing. That right there is enough to drown in a bottle of whiskey or two. But it could have been a trap kiddo. One that could have ended very badly for you.”

I went over and gave him a re-assuring hug. “I know Dean. Believe me, I know. But it wasn’t, and now I know everything, including where Asmodeus is hiding his sorry ass.” I picked up my gear and my jacket, then looked at my brothers, Cas, Jack and Mary. “Mary, you stay here and keep in touch, in case we need back-up.” Then I motioned for the guys to follow me. “C’mon Boys, let’s do this!” And we strode out of the bunker, ready to take down the last prince of hell once and for all!

@maggyme13 @legion1993

#maggies300challenge #castiel #supernatural #fanfic #spn #cas #cas x reader #castiel x reader

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thewahookid · 3 years

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Why we need St. John the Baptist!

July 5, 2021

Dear Family of Mary!

On the Feast of St. John the Baptist, Fr. Cassian Sama gave the homily at English Mass in Medjugorje. I was there!! It was the perfect homily for the 40th anniversary, on the first day Our Lady appeared to the children. She came on that day, because she wanted us to realize how important St. John the Baptist is! She wanted us to learn from him how to live for Christ, how to point to Christ, how to worship Christ! St. John was the prophet who pointed to Christ, and she came to continue his work in our day, through Medjugorje. He also lived the 5 stones, which are the foundation stones of Our Lady's call. So enjoy this homily and may we all become more like St. John the Baptist!

Fr. Cassian Sama - Homily on the Feast of St. John the Baptist, June 24, 2021

Today we celebrate on of the most important saints in the Church, but sadly many of us have no devotion to St. John the Baptist. St. John the Baptist as the Gospel of Luke tells us, was filled with the Holy Spirit in the womb of his mother. And sometimes he is called a man on fire. A man filled with the Holy Spirit, burning with the Holy Spirit.

And after his birth we are told in today's gospel the child grew and became strong in Spirit. One famous Russian Orthodox Saint by the name of St. Seraphim of Sarrov, said that the goal of the Christian life is the acquisition of the Holy Spirit. The goal of the Christian life is the acquisition of the Holy Spirit. Didn't Jesus tell us, "If you then who are wicked know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the Father in Heaven give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him?"

So on this feast day we are asked to imitate St. John the Baptist. A man that was burning with the Holy Spirit. But who was the one that prompted St. John the Baptist to be filled with the Holy Spirit? We are told it was the blessed mother. We are told that when the Blessed Mother visited the house of Zachariah, we are told that Elizabeth heard her voice and was filled with the Holy Spirit! And John leapt in her womb for joy!

There was a Protestant pastor by the name of D.L. Moody. Every time he preaches he asks the Holy Spirit to fill him. So a lot of people got curious and said, Pastor why do you keep asking the Holy Spirit to fill you? Do you know what his answer was? "Because I leak!" (Ha ha) Because I leak!! You are all laughing. We all leak big time!

So the question is how do we get filled with the Holy Spirit? St. John the Baptist can tell us how!

First; Devotion to the Holy Eucharist. When Mary visited Elizabeth's house, and John recognized that she was pregnant with His Lord, what did he do? He adored Jesus in Mary's womb. Mary is the first Tabernacle. So whenever you see a tabernacle in the church, recognize that that is Mary, because that tabernacle contains Jesus. John the Baptist was the one who said, "Behold the Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world." So he is the first devotee of the Blessed Sacrament.

Second, to be filled with the Holy Spirit, because we leak - if we are leaking, guess what we do, go to Confession! when you go to confession, you stop that leaking. When we are in mortal sin, we lose what we call "Sanctifying Grace" which is God's life within us. So when we go to Confession, we are grafted back into the life of Christ.

Third, St. John the Baptist teaches us that to maintain that filling of the Holy Spirit we must fast. That is why he went to the desert. The desert is not a fun place. It is not a place where you have cocktails or drink Margaritas, and sit down and chill! No! the desert is the place that is uncomfortable but at the same time, it keeps you alert. He went to the desert to encounter God. Not to be distracted by worldly things. Because his whole life pointed to Christ. His whole life pointed to God. The Holy Spirit educated him there and prepared him so that when the Savior arrived he would point people to Him.

Fourth, the whole reason to be filled with the Holy Spirit is to know Christ. It was the great doctor of the Church, St. Jerome, who said, "ignorance of Scripture is ignorance of Christ." It always gets me when I see Catholics holding there Rosaries, and they pray and pray and pray. But when I question them about the mysteries, they look at me as if I am strange. If you don't know Scripture, you are not praying your Rosary right. The Rosary should open up yourself to understand what Christ is all about in Scripture. In Scripture, God speaks to you. In Scripture, the Holy Spirit illumines your mind to know who Christ is.

Finally, prayer. St. John the Baptist went to the desert to pray. The great doctor of the Church, St. Alphonsus Liguori said, "Of you don't pray, you will be damned." I love him, he doesn't mince his words. Prayer is the way to receive the grace to fast. To pray is the way to receive the grace to go to confession, to confess well. To pray is the way to know who Mary really is. To pray is the way to open yourself to God. And to surrender yourself to God. Prayer before the Blessed Sacrament, and the Rosary are the perfect ways in which the Holy Spirit can fill you.

You know, when I pray the Rosary, in my mind I am experiencing a Pentecostal experience. Why do I say so? Because with the Rosary you pray with Mary as she prays for you. Go back to the first Pentecostal experience. Who was there? Mary was there. In fact the Apostles had a nine day retreat with Mary! So whenever you pray the Rosary, you are having a retreat with Mary!! She helps you to dispose yourself to receive her Spouse, the Holy Spirit. That is why the Rosary is the most perfect prayer after the Sacrifice of the Mass.

You don't want to know Christ through my perspective...(even though I am a priest!) There is a Dominican saying, "To contemplate and share the fruit of your contemplation." If you contemplate the wall, you will preach the wall. If you contemplate nothing, you will preach nothing. But if you contemplate Christ, then you will preach Christ.

So the Rosary is the perfect way to open yourself to the Holy Spirit. So St. John the Baptist, as you realize, gave us the five stones of Medjugorje! These are the five stones, as Fr. Leon spoke so eloquently about yesterday.

In the Cathedral in Minnesota where I live at the back of the Sanctuary, is a rugged figure, St. John the Baptist. And he stands like this...(hand extended and pointing) and his hand is pointing to the Tabernacle. His whole life was about Christ.

On this 40th anniversary of Our Lady's Visitation here in Medjugorje, let us ask St. John the Baptist to ask for the grace for us to fast, to pray, to recognize Mary when she visits us, and to give ourselves to the Holy Spirit.

So my brothers and sisters, let us burn with the Holy Spirit! Let us be consumed with the Holy Spirit! Because without the Holy Spirit, the priest cannot consecrate the bread and wine into the Body and Blood of Christ! Without the Holy Spirit, he cannot absolve the people of their sins. Even Jesus, Himself, in His Humanity, relied on the Holy Spirit. When He received Baptism, the Holy Spirit pushed him into the desert to combat Satan. This was how He could combat Satan in people's lives.

So let us imitate St. John the Baptist, by having devotion to Mary! After St. Joseph, he was the second devotee to Mary. Let us ask St. John the Baptist to have devotion to the Eucharist.

I will end with this story: A couple of years back, when I was a third year seminarian, in Bloomington, Indiana, the Dalai Lama came to Bloomington and he rented our space. So a month before he arrived, seven of his monks came to scout the place. So one of my brothers, Brother Benedict, who has passed away, was showing them around. and they went into the back of the Sanctuary where the Tabernacle is. Br. Benedict talked and talked and then realized the place was quiet. He looked around, and then he looked down, and there were the seven monks down on their knees before the Blessed Sacrament. He said 'What are you guys doing?" They answered, "Brother, there is someone divine in that box. There is someone divine in that box." If these monks, who are not Christian, not Catholic, and they can recognize Christ's presence in the Eucharist, what about us?

So let us ask for the grace to recognize Christ in the Eucharist and surrender ourselves to Him. By so doing, we will burn like St. John the Baptist! (Homily by Father Cassian Sama, June 24, 2021 - English Mass in Medjugorje)

https://marytv.tv/english-homily-in-medjugorje-2/?smid=iqSg8As0AT3&slid=IRBKmbjFsDA

I highly recommend listening to this homily by Fr. Cassian, using the link above. His delivery is powerful!!

In Jesus, Mary and Joseph! Cathy Nolan Mary TV 2021

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thestreamofconsciousness777 · 5 years

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For not always will the poor one be forgotten, Nor will the hope of the meek ones ever perish...

"The word that occurred to Jeremiah from Jehovah, saying: “This is what Jehovah the God of Israel has said, ‘Write for yourself in a book all the words that I will speak to you. For, “look! there are days coming,” is the utterance of Jehovah, “and I will gather the captive ones of my people, Israel and Judah,” Jehovah has said, “and I will bring them back to the land that I gave to their forefathers, and they will certainly repossess it.”’”

And these are the words that Jehovah has spoken to Israel and to Judah. For this is what Jehovah has said: “The sound of trembling we have heard, dread, and there is no peace. Ask, please, O men, and see whether a male is giving birth. Why is it that I have seen every able-bodied man with his hands upon his loins like a female that is giving birth, and all faces have turned pale? Alas! For that day is a great one, so that there is no other like it, and it is the time of distress for Jacob. But he will be saved even out of it.”

“And it must occur in that day,” is the utterance of Jehovah of armies, “that I shall break one’s yoke from off your neck, and your bands I shall tear in two, and no more will strangers exploit him as a servant. And they will certainly serve Jehovah their God and David their king, whom I shall raise up for them.”

“And as for you, do not be afraid, O my servant Jacob,” is the utterance of Jehovah, “and do not be struck with terror, O Israel. For here I am saving you from far off and your offspring from the land of their captivity. And Jacob will certainly return and be free of disturbance and be at ease, and there will be no one causing trembling.”

“For I am with you,” is the utterance of Jehovah, “to save you; but I shall make an extermination among all the nations to which I have scattered you. However, in your case I shall make no extermination. And I shall have to correct you to the proper degree, as I shall by no means leave you unpunished.”

For this is what Jehovah has said: “There is no cure for your breakdown. Your stroke is chronic. There is no one pleading your cause, for [your] ulcer. There are no means of healing, no mending, for you. All those intensely loving you are the ones that have forgotten you. You are not the one for whom they keep searching. For with the stroke of an enemy I have struck you, with the chastisement of someone cruel, on account of the abundance of your error; your sins have become numerous. Why do you cry out on account of your breakdown? Your pain is incurable on account of the abundance of your error; your sins have become numerous. I have done these things to you. Therefore all those devouring you will themselves be devoured; and as for all your adversaries, into captivity they will all of them go. And those pillaging you will certainly come to be for pillaging, and all those plundering you I shall give over to plundering.”

“For I shall bring up a recuperation for you, and from your strokes I shall heal you,” is the utterance of Jehovah. “For a woman chased away is what they called you: ‘That is Zion, for whom no one is searching.’”

This is what Jehovah has said: “Here I am gathering the captive ones of the tents of Jacob, and for his tabernacles I shall have pity. And the city will actually be rebuilt upon her mound; and upon its rightful site the dwelling tower itself will sit. And from them there will certainly go forth thanksgiving, and the sound of those who are laughing. And I will multiply them, and they will not become few; and I will make them heavy in number, and they will not become insignificant. And his sons must become as in former times, and before me his own assembly will be firmly established. And I will turn my attention upon all his oppressors. And his majestic one will certainly come to be from him, and from the midst of him his own ruler will go forth; and I will cause him to come near, and he must approach to me.”

“For who, now, is this one that has given his heart in pledge in order to approach to me?” is the utterance of Jehovah. “And YOU will certainly become my people, and I myself shall become YOUR God.”

Look! A windstorm of Jehovah, rage itself, has gone forth, an onward-sweeping tempest. Upon the head of the wicked ones it will whirl. The burning anger of Jehovah will not turn back until he will have executed and until he will have carried out the ideas of his heart. In the final part of the days YOU people will give YOUR consideration to it.

“At that time,” is the utterance of Jehovah, “I shall become God to all the families of Israel; and as for them, they will become my people.”

This is what Jehovah has said: “The people made up of survivors from the sword found favor in the wilderness, when Israel was walking to get his repose.” From far away Jehovah himself appeared to me, [saying:] “And with a love to time indefinite I have loved you. That is why I have drawn you with loving-kindness. Yet shall I rebuild you and you will actually be rebuilt, O virgin of Israel. You will yet deck yourself with your tambourines and actually go forth in the dance of those who are laughing. You will yet plant vineyards in the mountains of Sa·mar’i·a. The planters will certainly plant and start to use [them]. For there exists a day when the lookouts in the mountainous region of E’phra·im will actually call out, ‘Rise up, O men, and let us go up to Zion, to Jehovah our God.’”

For this is what Jehovah has said: “CRY out loudly to Jacob with rejoicing, and CRY shrilly at the head of nations. PUBLISH [it]. GIVE praise and SAY, ‘Save, O Jehovah, your people, the remnant of Israel.’ Here I am bringing them from the land of the north, and I will collect them together from the remotest parts of the earth. Among them will be the blind and the lame, the pregnant woman and the one giving birth, all together. As a great congregation they will return here. With weeping they will come, and with [their] entreaties for favor I shall bring them. I shall make them walk to torrent valleys of water, in a right way in which they will not be caused to stumble. For I have become to Israel a Father; and as for E’phra·im, he is my firstborn.”

Hear the word of Jehovah, O YOU nations, and tell [it] among the islands far away, and say: “The One scattering Israel will himself collect him together, and he will certainly keep him as a shepherd does his drove. For Jehovah will actually redeem Jacob and reclaim him out of the hand of the one stronger than he is. And they will certainly come and cry out joyfully on the height of Zion and become radiant over the goodness of Jehovah, over the grain and over the new wine and over the oil and over the young ones of the flock and the cattle. And their soul will simply become like a well-watered garden, and no more will they languish again.”

“At that time the virgin will rejoice in the dance, also the young men and the old men, all together. And I will change their mourning into exultation, and I will comfort them and make them rejoice away from their grief. And I will saturate the soul of the priests with fatness, and with my goodness my own people will become satisfied,” is the utterance of Jehovah.

“This is what Jehovah has said, ‘In Ra’mah a voice is being heard, lamentation and bitter weeping; Rachel weeping over her sons. She has refused to be comforted over her sons, because they are no more.’”

This is what Jehovah has said: “’Hold back your voice from weeping, and your eyes from tears, for there exists a reward for your activity,’ is the utterance of Jehovah, ‘and they will certainly return from the land of the enemy.’

“’And there exists a hope for your future,’ is the utterance of Jehovah, ‘and the sons will certainly return to their own territory.’”

“I have positively heard E’phra·im bemoaning himself, ‘You have corrected me, that I may be corrected, like a calf that has not been trained. Cause me to turn back, and I shall readily turn back, for you are Jehovah my God. For after my turning back I felt regret; and after my being led to know I made a slap upon the thigh. I became ashamed, and I also felt humiliated, for I had carried the reproach of my youth.’”

“Is E’phra·im a precious son to me, or a fondly treated child? For to the extent of my speaking against him I shall without fail remember him further. That is why my intestines have become boisterous for him. By all means I shall have pity upon him,” is the utterance of Jehovah.

“Set up road marks for yourself. Place signposts for yourself. Fix your heart upon the highway, the way that you will have to go. Come back, O virgin of Israel. Come back to these cities of yours. How long will you turn this way and that, O unfaithful daughter? For Jehovah has created a new thing in the earth: A mere female will press around an able-bodied man.”

This is what Jehovah of armies, the God of Israel, has said: “They will yet say this word in the land of Judah and in his cities, when I shall gather their captives, ‘May Jehovah bless you, O righteous dwelling place, O holy mountain.’ And in it Judah and all his cities will certainly dwell all together, farmers and those who have set out with the drove. For I will saturate the tired soul, and every languishing soul I will fill.”

At this thing I awoke and began to see; and as for my sleep, it had been pleasurable to me.

“Look! There are days coming,” is the utterance of Jehovah, “and I will sow the house of Israel and the house of Judah with the seed of man and with the seed of domestic animal.”

“And it must occur that just as I had kept alert toward them to uproot and to pull down and to tear down and to destroy and to do damage, so I shall keep alert toward them to build up and to plant,” is the utterance of Jehovah. “In those days they will no more say, ‘The fathers were the ones that ate the unripe grape, but it was the teeth of the sons that got set on edge.’ But it will be each one for his own error that one will die. Any man eating the unripe grape, his will be the teeth that will be set on edge.”

“Look! There are days coming,” is the utterance of Jehovah, “and I will conclude with the house of Israel and with the house of Judah a new covenant; not one like the covenant that I concluded with their forefathers in the day of my taking hold of their hand to bring them forth out of the land of Egypt, ‘which covenant of mine they themselves broke, although I myself had husbandly ownership of them,’ is the utterance of Jehovah.”

“For this is the covenant that I shall conclude with the house of Israel after those days,” is the utterance of Jehovah. “I will put my law within them, and in their heart I shall write it. And I will become their God, and they themselves will become my people.”

“And they will no more teach each one his companion and each one his brother, saying, ‘KNOW Jehovah!’ for they will all of them know me, from the least one of them even to the greatest one of them,” is the utterance of Jehovah. “For I shall forgive their error, and their sin I shall remember no more.”

This is what Jehovah, the Giver of the sun for light by day, the statutes of the moon and the stars for light by night, the One stirring up the sea that its waves may become boisterous, the One whose name is Jehovah of armies, has said: “’If these regulations could be removed from before me,’ is the utterance of Jehovah, ‘those who are the seed of Israel could likewise cease from proving to be a nation before me always.’”

This is what Jehovah has said: “‘If the heavens up above could be measured and the foundations of the earth below could be searched out, I myself also could reject the entire seed of Israel on account of all that they have done,’ is the utterance of Jehovah.”

“Look! There are days coming,” is the utterance of Jehovah, “and the city will certainly be built to Jehovah from the Tower of Ha·nan’el to the Corner Gate. And the line for measurement will yet actually go forth straight ahead to the hill of Ga’reb, and it will certainly go around to Go’ah. And all the low plain of the carcasses and of the fatty ashes, and all the terraces as far as the torrent valley of Kid’ron, clear to the corner of the Horse Gate toward the sunrising, will be something holy to Jehovah. It will not be uprooted, neither will it be torn down anymore to time indefinite.”

“’Do return, O renegade Israel,” is the utterance of Jehovah.’ ‘“I shall not have my face drop [angrily] upon YOU people, for I am loyal,” is the utterance of Jehovah.’ ‘“I shall not stay resentful to time indefinite. Only take note of your error, for it is against Jehovah your God that you have transgressed. And you continued scattering your ways to the strangers under every luxuriant tree, but to my voice YOU people did not listen,” is the utterance of Jehovah.’”

“Return, O YOU renegade sons,” is the utterance of Jehovah. “For I myself have become the husbandly owner of YOU people; and I will take YOU, one out of a city and two out of a family, and I will bring YOU to Zion. And I will give YOU shepherds in agreement with my heart, and they will certainly feed YOU with knowledge and insight. And it must occur that YOU will become many and certainly bear fruit in the land in those days,” is the utterance of Jehovah. “No more will they say, ‘The ark of the covenant of Jehovah!’ nor will it come up into the heart, nor will they remember it or miss it, and no more will it be made. In that time they will call Jerusalem the throne of Jehovah; and to her all the nations must be brought together to the name of Jehovah at Jerusalem, and they will no more walk after the stubbornness of their bad heart.”

“In those days they will walk, the house of Judah alongside the house of Israel, and together they will come out of the land of the north into the land that I gave as a hereditary possession to YOUR forefathers. And I myself have said, ‘O how I proceeded to place you among the sons and to give you the desirable land, the hereditary possession of the ornament of the armies of the nations!’ And I further said, ‘“My Father!” YOU people will call out to me, and from following me YOU people will not turn back.’ ‘Truly [as] a wife has treacherously gone from her companion, so YOU, O house of Israel, have dealt treacherously with me,’ is the utterance of Jehovah.”

On the beaten paths there has been heard a sound, the weeping, the entreaties of the sons of Israel. For they have twisted their way; they have forgotten Jehovah their God.

“Return, YOU renegade sons. I shall heal YOUR renegade condition.” “Here we are! We have come to you, for you, O Jehovah, are our God. Truly the hills as well as the turmoil on the mountains belong to falsehood. Truly in Jehovah our God is the salvation of Israel. But the shameful thing itself has eaten up the toil of our forefathers from our youth, their flocks and their herds, their sons and their daughters. We lie down in our shame, and our humiliation keeps covering us; for it is toward Jehovah our God that we have sinned, we and our fathers from our youth on and down to this day, and we have not obeyed the voice of Jehovah our God.”

-Jeremiah 31-32 & 3:12-25, NWT

DEADWOOD: Inside The Royal Arch Room

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thomasgmcelwain · 6 years

Text

Genesis 38

1 It happened at that time and came

To pass that Judah, praise and fame,

Departed from his brothers, and

Visited Adullamite's land

Whose name's Hirah, Nobility.

2 And Judah while there chanced to see

The daughter of a Canaanite

Whose name was Shua, and he married

Her and went in to her. 3 She carried

And gave birth to a son, and he

Called his name Er, or Watchfully.

4 She conceived again and gave birth

To son named Onan, Strong on earth.

5 And she conceived yet again and

Gave birth to a son, called and planned,

By name of Shelah. He was at

Chezib when she gave birth to that.

6 Then Judah took a wife for Er

His firstborn, and her name's Tamar.

7 But Er, Judah's firstborn, did wickedly

Before YHWH, and YHWH killed him quickedly.

8 And Judah said to Onan, "Go

In to your brother's wife and so

Marry her, and raise up an heir

To your brother who's not to spare."

9 But Onan knew the heir would not

Be his, and so when he had got

In to his brother's wife, that he

Emitted on the ground, lest he

Should give an heir to his dead brother

Instead of for himself another.

10 And the thing which he did displeased

YHWH, so He also killed the sleased.

11 Then Judah said to Tamar his

Daughter-in-law, "Remain, that is,

A widow by your father's throne

Until my son Shelah is grown."

For he said "Lest he also die

Like his brothers." So by and by

Tamar went home to mourn and sigh.

The levirate was once law and the custom,

Though time and weather have done much to rust them.

It does not seem inheritance of wife

Was always joyous in the ancient life.

Your Word is where I flee, however, for

Another thing impressing me much more.

When a man is a wicked one, You blow

Him down with sudden death and at one go.

The wicked now continue in their sport

Live with evil as witches live with wart.

Strike down, Beloved, the wicked one in me.

If even promise does not set You free

To slay the wickedness, I take up arms

Against my self, take refuge in Your charms.

12 In time Judah's wife, Shua's daughter,

Died, and Judah was comforted,

And went to Timnah to the slaughter,

Or rather sheering of the sheep,

He and that friend of his both did,

Hirah Adullamite, to peep.

13 And it was told Tamar, "Look, your

Father-in-law is going for

To shear his sheep at Timnah's store."

14 So she took off her widow's weeds,

Covered herself with veil, as needs,

And wrapped herself, and sat out in

An open place, as though for sin,

Which was on Timnah's road, for she

Saw that Shelah was grown, and she

Was not given to him as a wife.

15 When Judah saw her, by his life,

He thought she was a harlot, for

She'd covered up her face and more.

16 Then he turned to her by the way,

And said "Let me lie with you, say,"

For he did not know she was his

Daughter-in-law. So she said "Is

Your dowry to me up to price?"

17 And he said "I will send a nice

Young goat from the flock." So she said

"Will you give me a pledge for bed

Until you send it?" 18 Then he said

"What pledge shall I give you?" So she

Said "Your signet and cord let be,

And your staff that is in your hand."

Then he gave them to her command,

And went in to her, and she was

Pregnant by him by all due laws.

If Judah thought a temporary marriage

Then fit the bill in circumstance and carriage,

Let him look to the matters of deceit

With which such confrontations are replete.

The issue of legality can bear

Its debates and discussions anywhere.

But on the dusty road and after feast

Of labour and of song, two men increased

Their lusty cogitations there together.

Such meetings always end in nasty weather.

Guard, guard the chambers of the soul unless

I should lose signet, cord, and staff and dress.

Beloved, I turn to You instead of neighbour

When fleeces are all cut and I cease labour.

19 So she arose and went away,

And laid aside her veil and stay,

And put on weeds of widowhood.

20 And Judah sent her, as he should,

The young goat by the hand of his

Friend the Adullamite, that is,

To get his pledge back from her hand,

But he found no one in the land.

21 Then he asked the men of that place,

"Where is the harlot who showed face

Openly by the roadside here?"

And they said "No harlot was here."

22 So he returned to Judah and

Said "I cannot find in the land

Such a one, also, the men there

Said there was no harlot to spare."

23 Then Judah said "Well, let her take

Them for herself, lest for her sake

We be shamed, for I sent this goat

But you found of her not a mote."

24 And it came, about three months after,

Judah was told, the thing was dafter,

"Tamar your daughter-in-law has

Played the harlot, and further as

Is with child by her harlotry."

So Judah said "Bring her to me

And let her be burned publicly!"

25 When she was brought out, she sent to

Her father-in-law, saying "You

Say by which man I have conceived,

His things are here to be believed."

And she said "Please determine whose

These are: the signet and cord, choose,

And also staff." 26 Judah did see

And recognize them and said "She

Has been more righteous here than I,

Because I did not give her by

The right time to Shelah my son."

And he took her no more for fun.

What Judah here admits, Beloved, as fault

Is not his one arrangement for his salt,

But that he did not give his son the dame

Who waited for the child to gain his name.

When Judah knew who was the father of

The child of Tamar, he gave not a glove

To repent of his lying with a harlot.

He thought his contract binding with the starlet,

And equal to a marriage. This gives cheer

To two kinds of agreement: levirate

And temporary marriage for career.

Results of both speak for themselves and grate

On human happiness if not on gall.

Beloved, I'd rather wait here for Your call.

27 Now it came, at the time of birth,

That indeed, twins were in her girth.

28 And so it was, when she was giving

Birth, that the one put out a living

Hand, and the midwife took some red

And bound it on his hand, and said

"This is the one that came out first."

29 Then it happened, as at the worst,

He drew his hand back, that his brother

Came out surprising all and other,

And she said "How did you break through?

Therefore this breach be upon you!"

And so his name was called Perez.

30 After his brother, without fez,

Came out with scarlet on his hand.

And his name was Zerah unplanned.

What pagan connotations there may be

In Perez, Breaking Out, there's more to see

In Zerah, Rising Sun, no doubt allusion

To the red thread and the midwife's confusion.

The story smacks of mythic rising of

The sun from earth's dark womb to sail above

The forest and the sea with streaming red.

I flee to You, Beloved, from all that's said

In loving confirmation of the world

And deity of beauty when unfurled.

I bow to neither sun nor to the light

Of my illumination or my sight

Awakened in remembrance, contemplation,

Or whirling beneath stars and sun in station.

#The Beloved and I

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