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orthodoxydaily · 6 months ago

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Icon, Saints&Reading: Monday, August 5, 2024

july _august 5

ICON: POCHAEV OF THE MOTHER OF GOD

The miraculous Pochaev (Ukr. Pochaiv) Icon of the Mother of God is one of the most renowned relics in the Christian world. It holds a special place of veneration in Ukraine, Belarus, Russia, as well as in Eastern Poland, Slovakia, Bosnia, Serbia, and Bulgaria.

This sacred icon is commemorated on 5 August (23 July Old Style), 24 April (11 April Old Style), 21 September (8 September Old Style), and on the Friday of Holy Week.

For over four centuries, the Pochaev Icon of the Blessed Virgin Mary has been enshrined at the Holy Dormition Pochaev Lavra, situated in the western region of modern Ukraine. Pochaev is a small town in the Ternopol region, located 22 kilometres southeast of Kremenets and 67 kilometres north of Ternopol.

Monastic life on Pochaev Mountain traces its roots back to the 13th and 14th centuries. At that time, these lands were part of the principality of Galicia-Volhynia, one of the appanage principalities of ancient Rus’.

While historical records first mention the Monastery in 1527, monastic activities on Pochaev Mountain began around 1240, according to some sources, or 1340, according to others.

According to tradition, monks from the Kiev-Pechersk Lavra, fleeing the Mongol-Tatar invasion led by Khan Batyi between 1237-1240, sought refuge in the Volyn lands. They settled in the rocky caves of an uninhabited hill covered in impenetrable forests, which would later become known as Pochaev Mountain.

Another version suggests that an hermitage was founded on Pochaev Mountain by the Athonite monk Methodius in 1228, predating the Tatar invasion.

One day, an extraordinary event occurred atop Pochaev Mountain. The Most Holy Theotokos Herself appeared to one of the two monks who were leading an ascetic life in the caves. She stood on a rock, enveloped in a pillar of flame, reminiscent of the Old Testament burning bush. Overwhelmed by this divine sight, the hermit called his companion to witness this miraculous event.

A local resident named Ivan Bosoy (Barefooted), who was tending to his sheep nearby, also witnessed this divine apparition. He saw the Most Holy Mother of God in a pillar of fire on a rock, alongside a monk in prayer. The shepherd hurried to the monks and inquired about the vision. They explained that the Mother of God had appeared at this sacred spot, and where Her right foot had touched, a spring of water had miraculously welled up.

This holy spring, stemming from the pure feet of the Holy Mother of God, flowed ceaselessly, never running dry regardless of how much water was drawn from it. In time, the Church of the Assumption was constructed at this hallowed site, giving birth to a thriving monastic community.

The miracle-working Pochaev Icon of the Mother of God made its appearance in Pochaev Monastery during the mid-16th century. This sacred icon was gifted to Anna Hojska, a local landowner, by the Greek Metropolitan Neophytos. Metropolitan Neophytos, who later became the Patriarch of Constantinople, was passing through the Volyn lands at the time. While there is indirect evidence suggesting the Metropolitan had Slavic origins, possibly Serbian or Bulgarian, his precise lineage remains uncertain.

Anna Tikhonovna Erofeyeva Hojska hailed from the esteemed Russian noble family of Kozinski. Metropolitan Neophytos, during his journey to Moscow to seek material assistance from the Russian sovereign (or on his return journey, according to some sources), paused at Anna's estate near Pochaev. In gratitude for her hospitality, he bestowed upon the devout widow a small image of the Mother of God, also known as "Eleusa" or "Tenderness" (from the Greek "Ελεούσα," meaning merciful or gracious).

For a period, this sacred relic remained within Anna's house chapel. During this time, those who prayed before the icon began to notice an extraordinary radiance emanating from it. In 1597, a miraculous event occurred: Anna's brother, Philip Kozinski, who had been blind (or, according to other sources, lame), was miraculously healed after praying before the icon. Overwhelmed by the sanctity of this image, Anna felt it improper to retain it solely for herself and decided to entrust it to the monks of the Pochaev Monastery.

It's noteworthy that this miracle transpired a year following the Brest Church Union of 1596. This union was an unsuccessful attempt to reconcile the Western and Eastern branches of Christianity, with grave consequences. The Pochaev Monastery's brethren firmly adhered to Orthodoxy and did not accept the Union...Continue reading St Elizabeth Convent

PROPHETESS HANNAH, MOTHER OF THE PROPHET SAMUEL.

The Holy Prophetess Hannah dwelt in marriage with Elkanah, but she was childless. Elkanah took to himself another wife, Phennena, who bore him children. Hannah grieved strongly over her misfortune, and every day she prayed for an end to her barrenness, and vowed to dedicate her child to God.

Once, as she prayed fervently in the Temple, the priest Heli thought that she was drunk, and he began to reproach her. But the saint poured out her grief, and after she received a blessing, she returned home. After this Hannah conceived and gave birth to a son, whom she named Samuel (which means “Asked from God”).

When the child reached the age of boyhood, the mother herself presented him to the priest Heli, and Samuel remained with him to serve before the Tabernacle (1 Kings/1 Samuel 2: 1-21).

1 CORINTHIANS 5:9-6:11

9 I wrote to you in my epistle not to keep company with sexually immoral people. 10 Yet I certainly did not mean with the sexually immoral people of this world, or with the covetous, or extortioners, or idolaters, since then you would need to go out of the world. 11 But now I have written to you not to keep company with anyone named a brother, who is sexually immoral, or covetous, or an idolater, or a reviler, or a drunkard, or an extortioner-not even to eat with such a person. 12 For what have I to do with judging those also who are outside? Do you not judge those who are inside? 13 But those who are outside God judges. Therefore "put away from yourselves the evil person."

1 Dare any of you, having a matter against another, go to law before the unrighteous, and not before the saints? 2 Do you not know that the saints will judge the world? And if the world will be judged by you, are you unworthy to judge the smallest matters? 3 Do you not know that we shall judge angels? How much more, things that pertain to this life? 4 If then you have judgments concerning things pertaining to this life, do you appoint those who are least esteemed by the church to judge? 5 I say this to your shame. Is it so, that there is not a wise man among you, not even one, who will be able to judge between his brethren? 6 But brother goes to law against brother, and that before unbelievers! 7 Now therefore, it is already an utter failure for you that you go to law against one another. Why do you not rather accept wrong? Why do you not rather let yourselves be cheated? 8 No, you yourselves do wrong and cheat, and you do these things to your brethren! 9 Do you not know that the unrighteous will not inherit the kingdom of God? Do not be deceived. Neither fornicators, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor homosexuals, nor sodomites, 10 nor thieves, nor covetous, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor extortioners will inherit the kingdom of God. 11 And such were some of you. But you were washed, but you were sanctified, but you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus and by the Spirit of our God.

MATTHEW 13:54-58

54 When He had come to His own country, He taught them in their synagogue, so that they were astonished and said, "Where did this Man get this wisdom and these mighty works? 55 Is this not the carpenter's son? Is not His mother called Mary? And His brothers James, Joses, Simon, and Judas? 56 And His sisters, are they not all with us? Where then did this Man get all these things? 57 So they were offended at Him. But Jesus said to them, "A prophet is not without honor except in his own country and in his own house." 58 Now He did not do many mighty works there because of their unbelief.

#orthodoxy #orthodoxchristianity #easternorthodoxchurch #originofchristianity #spirituality #holyscriptures #gospel #bible #wisdom #faith #saints #icon #sacredarts

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mamamittens · 3 months ago

Note

super hype for this.

Marco x Ray x Ace <3

stuck between Marco and Ace being cult priest and cultist and fae... so you can pick.

I have a chocolate orange and sour patch, tootsie roll, ring pop, toffee. In my paper bag.

As for booze...

Mind eraser, jager bomb, pink schnapps

Thank yooou. I ca give more deets if you need

intried to give a mix of things that could work for cult or fae

Trial by Unholy Fire (+18)

This is part of the Spooktober 2024 Event, for context!

Summary:

Ray enjoyed exploring unusual places. He found the spooky, abandoned corridors zesty. Hours of b-roll footage and amazing sights for his personal enjoyment. A silent admirer of quiet repose, it's quite unusual to come across living company of the human variety. The trap springs shut and Ray finds himself at the mercy of a devout cult, worshipping an old spirit, a Good Neighbor, who promises to scorch the land unless his heart is set aflame.

Ray's not an arsonist, but under Marco's firm hand, he'll set a blaze all the same.

(Yandere!Cultist!Marco/Urban Explorer!Ray(OC)/Yandere!Fae!Ace)

Warnings: Dubious Consent, ritualistic aphrodisiac, rough sex, degradation, double penetration, unprotected sex, outdoor sex, yandere behavior,--no the 'anchor' thing is not a reference to pregnancy, I promise-- and overstimulation.

Word Count: 5,966

Ray usually didn’t travel far for his little ‘excursions’.

Sometimes he’d hear about an abandoned hospital or something and drive a couple of hours, but normally nothing that couldn’t be done over the weekend. Which is what made this trip so special, really.

His first full on camping trip.

An entire week set aside for it, generous gear and even a breakdown of the weather. He didn’t want to get swept away in a flood or have to weather a thunderstorm in a tent, after all. As moody of a video as that would be, he’d leave that to the hardcore enthusiasts for ASMR.

What was he doing that required an entire week?

Well, Ray had gotten a tip from a seasoned urban explorer about an old fairground—rides still intact—within the forest. Apparently, it was meant to be a temporary thing for a town that used to be nearby but the owner died and all his assets were basically left to rot. Something about a fire?

Whatever had happened put the entire fairgrounds firmly into the ‘scrap’ pile.

Usually, Ray avoided fairgrounds simply because the temporary structures rarely held up very well over time—as opposed to once functional buildings left to the ravages of time. The worst fear in an abandoned hospital was usually asbestos or a very territorial homeless person. Fairgrounds tended to be really out of the way and, as a consequence, also partly taken over by nature. Who knew what kind of critters called the abandoned structures home now?

Not Ray, and usually not in a million years either…

Okay, so he had a slight fear of fairgrounds and clowns—it was a whole thing he’d rather not get into but his source swore it never housed clowns so—

But anyway!

He was a man!

A grown adult! No longer did he have to worry about scary as shit people in strange clothes towering over him! Not… not as much at least—he wasn’t breaking any records or scaring small children himself, but he wasn’t a little squirt anymore either.

Gear packed and a map well notated was all Ray had to fuss over as he drove through the winding back wood, dirt roads. Real out in the sticks where the trees periodically hung low over the path, creating a picturesque canopy of thick green and gold as the sun rose up in the sky. There wasn’t many potholes to worry about—not even desperate semis taking such beaten paths, but frequently Ray wondered what he’d do if another car was coming in the opposite direction. With no shoulder to speak of, just a sudden, jarring ditch on either side, his modest car would be hard pressed to do anything but sputter at the suggestion.

The radio was fading in and out of snow frequently, the hazy remnants of… some kind of music or maybe just really melodic arguments slipping through the speakers as Ray kept a look out for a ‘hidden’ path. He’d been driving since dawn, having no desire to navigate the woods and backroads at night. It had been decently described to him and he was pretty confident he wouldn’t miss it.

Still, he nearly drove past it. Briefly cursing himself as he wondered if his glasses needed an update before brushing it off as just owing to how hidden it was ot begin with.

Only the only yellow tape fluttering in the wind signaling the downed tree was actually intentionally felled to hide the path. It was pretty big at first glance, bigger than his car. But, upon careful inspection and nearly tumbling into the muddy ditch, Ray realized it was two large tree branches pulled together like a natural gate. Almost eating into the small dirt road in an effort to obscure the even less identifiable side path.

It wasn’t easy to move them—the task greatly improved when he stopped trying to push the limbs aside entirely. Instead swinging them back in a pivot just enough for his car to safely make it through. If it wasn’t for his timeline and the polite request to return the branches back to their original position, Ray would have left them like that. Bark and branches scrapping his pale skin as he cautiously moved them back once he cleared his car of their reach.

The trees, which were already thick and a mixture of fiery orange and evergreens, seemed to grow more dense on this side path. He was to drive until he reached a clearing and leave his car there in the shade. It would be a good base camp and provide him with emergency shelter should the weather turn suddenly. Not as good as a trailer but better than the admittedly basic tent he’d been using reliably for years.

Luckily, his guide hadn’t failed him yet and proved to be well deserving of their reputation online. The clearing was still covered by the thick canopy everywhere but the dead center, ensuring that passing planes wouldn’t spot him possibly trespassing unless he decided to light up the night sky. With no burn watch made public, he was even safe to light a small campfire—which he fully intended to for traditional hot dogs to celebrate a successful set up.

Sometimes his sources were… greatly exaggerated. So, Ray had learned to make the journey itself something worth celebrating.

And damn was the clearing pretty.

Thick grass and a sea of flowers tangled together in a way only nature can accomplish after years of the seasons gently turning over.

Barely a few couple of hours before sundown, the sun poured into the thick grass and wildflowers with abandon, shadows shifting as a breeze whipped by overhead. Birdsong and insect cries ringing in the air around him reassuringly. Not even his old car could disturb them, which did tell Ray that it wasn’t quite uncommon for visitors in these woods. Still, he had a tent to set up and gear to look over one more time.

The canary yellow tent settled nicely, a ways off from his car, not quite in the center of the clearing. Just barely covered by the thick branches overhead as he carefully dug out a fire pit. He had a portable stove he could use, but preferred the fire. It just felt… better. And gave him an excuse to do some light wondering about for sticks—the bricks already having been stored in the truck of his car for exactly this situation.

Ray was not going to feature on the news for setting acres of old growth on fire, thanks.

When he left, he was going to bury the old pit and take the bricks with him. A packet of native wildflower seeds in his bag to help restore the dirt after he was gone. It was a tradition at this point, given that his overnight trips were often so far out from civilization. An… odd sort of ‘thanks’ to the temporary shelter he had enjoyed during his brief stay.

With a practiced flick of his wrists, Ray’s fire starter ignited the kindling. After ensuring that it would successfully take and consume the meager offerings Ray provided, he went about checking his equipment for any last minute damage or missing supplies. It was pretty rare that something happened, but you only get lost off the trail once with a faulty flashlight before deciding never again.

He could barely sleep for weeks, woodland creatures caught somewhere between strobe lighting and murderous rage flooding his mind every time he closed his eyes.

Ray took in a deep breath and let the upsetting memories go. Hands methodically flicking through his equipment to ensure they all turned on and acted appropriately. He gave a pleased smile after confirming both his cameras, all three of his flashlights, and emergency satellite phone worked perfectly. He couldn’t count on regular signal this far out and it had proven to be a wise investment a few times before.

Content he had checked over everything, Ray set about roasting his hot dogs for a hot meal. The night closing in around him completely by the time he turned in for the night—prepared for a truly early morning.

He dreamed of a fire. Burning hot deep inside him. Licking at his flesh like a lover’s caress. Whispers and adulation roaring around him in a cacophony of sound. Eyes peering from within the smoke. Silver and blue, bearing down onto him with hunger.

A promise.

A benediction.

A warning.

“…chosen of the eternal flame… you. Will. Burn.”

Ray woke up to his cheery alarm just an hour before the sun would bother painting the distant horizon. Blearily preparing for a long day before downing a protein shake for breakfast—anything too heavy would do him little favors if the terrain got rough. He was hopeful about finding the fairground before noon and scouting the area for good shots. Breezy Hawaiian shirt draped over his thin tank top and cargo pants as he shouldered his heavy backpack.

After checking over his campsite for anything he’d forgotten, Ray pulled out a compass and set out due east. Where, hopefully, a fairground awaited him. The dense woods swallowing his footsteps in thick shadows and barely present deer trails. Early morning light filtering in from above, the birds singing a lovely tune as they greeted the day.

It was peaceful.

Probably about half of the enjoyment of Ray’s hobby was soaking in how gentle such isolated places could be. A cool, comfort that life goes on. Even in the city, where he could usually hear traffic in the distance, there was a sense of harmony. Not as clear as in such quiet woods as these, but still present even among the concrete jungle. His feet crunching in dry foliage as opposed to glass and the grind of concrete beneath his heels. Air crisp and thick with the scent of greenery.

Despite his early morning rise, Ray felt energized as he walked along towards the vague directions of his source. Strange dream far behind him, just like his campsite. Ray was certain he could always turn back around and make it to camp with little difficulty. Wildlife chirping and calling out to one another all around him.

The first sign of his goal was an abandoned turnstile, half buried in the earth. Looping metal slanted towards him with a massive spiderweb in the middle. It didn’t look particularly connected to anything, or even especially broken. Just… abandoned. Like someone intended to cart it away and dropped it without noticing.

Still, it was a sign he was going in the right direction.

Carefully stepping around it, Ray continued on his way. Noticing more debris buried into the forest floor as he went. Usually candy wrappers or popcorn buckets. The occasional off-putting shoe. And the further along he went, the more… scorched they appeared to be. Until it took Ray a long, hard look to realize he was looking at a small wagon, the metal frame warped from the heat nearly beyond recognition.

It was oddly sobering as he found more as the trees thinned. Their barks bearing old scorch marks in the direction he was going. Until they cleared completely and Ray was staring into the ruins—utterly speechless.

At one point, it must have been magnificent.

Large, utterly massive, with new growth sprouting between abandoned structures. A scorched carousel, fantastical animals nearly skeletal on their poles. The crumbling, vague box shape of prize stands. Piles of melted polyester lining the back. A towering, rusting frame of a ferris wheel. The sun cast over each one equally, uncaring of the devastation it lined with gold.

Ray took in a deep breath, leaning against the toppled cart of what appeared to once be an ornate popcorn machine. It creaked under his weight but did little else of note.

It was odd that it still smelled of a horrible fire. Chocking, acidic smoke on the back of Ray’s tongue as he continued looking around. The ground crunching beneath his feet in odd places, buried debris complaining under a thick carpet of grass. Birdsong a distant echo as he looped around buildings burned beyond recognition. For the time being, he didn’t bother looking inside. Not wanting to spot something particularly tragic within like the shapes beneath the scorched canopy of a circus tent on one side of the fairgrounds.

It was spooky as hell and beautiful. Life reclaiming what the fire left behind.

Ray resolved to do research on this particular site later. He’d wanted to surprise himself after initial searches proved fruitless—likely owing to the obscure nature of the fairgrounds itself. There had to be answers somewhere.

Ray had made nearly two whole loops of the fairgrounds by the time he noticed it.

In a cleared arena, like one that horse races or animal shows would use, was a massive pile of wood.

Rather, a bonfire?

The start of one, at least.

It was several feet wide, thick, cleaned tree limbs tied together to form a platform. A strange shape creating an upside-down ‘V’ shape in the center.

The start of an effigy.

That was definitely not a normal part of the fairgrounds.

In fact, it looked new.

Hazy dreams of fire and watching eyes made his breath quicken with fear. Cold sweat dripping down his spine.

Ray aggressively shoved down the impulse to get closer. Certain that would be a very bad decision.

Now suddenly much more eager to leave, Ray turned and began to quietly evacuate the area. Certain that whoever made the structure had to be nearby. It was too much work to just abandon on a whim. Too intricate to be a joke.

He’d just turned the corner on a relatively untouched ticket booth for something long gone when there was a soft crunch behind him.

SMACK!

And nothing but pain and darkness followed.

Ray came to in a haze, whining softly as a headache bloomed down his entire spine. He shifted, pulling hard against rough twine and wincing as wood ground against his back. With a harsh squint, Ray opened his eyes. Finding the dark shadow of the forest looming before him, sky cast a deep, burning red as the sun set. His glasses perched precariously on his nose at an angle, like they’d been set back in place as an afterthought.

Ray jerked, panic igniting inside him as he found his body tied. Arms outstretched above his head around the thick neck of the effigy and legs lifted up over sturdy chunks of wood, secured by his knees with the same twine. A wreath of flowers draped over his shoulders and chest, a mixture of hibiscus, honeysuckle, and wild roses. It did little to soothe Ray though, as he was still held aloft several feet in the air by the monstrously large effigy holding his thighs open. Words muffled with a cloth gag that tasted oddly sweet.

“There’s no point, I’m very good with knots.” A man called out somewhere behind him. Ray jerked, trying to look back but was blocked by the thick, woven chest of the effigy. “And I need you right where you are, spread open to receive your husband.” He chuckled softly.

“Mm-MM!” Ray attempted to protest but found no quarter.

“I’m almost jealous, you know. When my lord said his bride—well, husband, but the ritual states ‘bride’—would come and would require a special reception—I imagined… I suppose I’m not sure what I imagined, actually.” He admitted, footsteps echoing on the makeshift platform until he was before Ray. Tall and build, loose pants tied low on his hips in a rich, dark blue. Exposing rigid abs and broad shoulders. Eyes an intense, burning blue with blond hair messily ruffled atop his head. Light stubble across his jaw as he scratched idly with hungry eyes. “I am ever so loyal though, so I got to work. And just as he said, here you are~! Pale, hair like starlight, and… a peculiar allure to that face. Like you don’t understand a thing—it’s cute.” he grinned, white teeth sharp as he leaned in close to Ray.

His muffled cry of alarm seemed to amuse the man.

“Relax. If my lord is wrong… well, you’ll burn either way, yoi.” He sighed, shrugging his shoulders. Eyes glancing to the darkened horizon. “Ah, seems its time already.” He walked away to the edge of the platform and jumped down.

The familiar, metallic striking sound echoing beneath Ray as he began to squirm with desperation. Fears confirmed as he clearly saw a thin plume of smoke seep from beneath him. Shockingly, the man rejoined him after a few moments. Clearing the space with heavy strides as the shadows stretched across his face.

The psycho looked hungry. Pressing into Ray’s space as the scent of burning wood and herbs. Lips kissing over his gagged lips in a mocking kiss.

“I, Marco, the one who tends to the eternal flame, have let loose the first spark. I offer a bride to hold the infernal heart in their body. Let my lord walk this wretched world through them or consume their body as kindling.” He intoned with a smug grin. “As is my duty, I will ignite the bride for my lord’s pleasure.”

Ray was assuming he was going to die at the hands of a psycho when ‘Marco’ raised his hand and blue fire erupted in a violent flash.

With a fist full of ritual fire, Marco pressed his hand onto Ray’s chest. His clothes bursting into flames instantly. Heat licking over his body as he screamed.

Rather than hurt, however, the heat seemed to seep into his body. Unintentionally forcing him to relax into his bonds as he cried out. Inch by inch, his clothes were scorched off his body and left him bare. The floral wreath pushed back against his throat as it seemed to pull taut over the effigy’s own head.

Ray didn’t have time to think about it, though.

Hot, calloused hands swept over his bared skin with a surprised hum. Marco’s eyes fixated with amazement as he thumbed Ray’s nipples and fondled the soft curve of his ribs. Marco plucked a honeysuckle bloom between his fingers and flicked his wrist changing the blue fire to a burning gold that dripped shadowy melt. The honeysuckle shriveling up in the flame swiftly. Smudged fingertips lingering over Ray’s in anticipation as though savoring his canvas before moving in elegant motions.

Smearing soot over his skin in strange patterns that pooled down towards his thighs across his chest. Rings with symbols lining his throat and nipples, stray shapes curling over his ribs and his hips. Pausing occasionally to pluck another flower from the wreath and scorch it. Lines condensing in a strange form over his bared cunt, just on the soft swell of his belly. Fire licking up off the soot and seeping deeper into his helpless body.

Sweeping the heat through Ray’s body faster as Marco slipped his fingers through Ray’s spread cunt, soot turning the thick, dripping arousal into a dark smear across his folds. Spreading open Ray with burning want in his eyes. Devouring the sight of his flushed skin being tainted by the unholy fire.

Marco slipped in three fingers suddenly, fire still alight as he pressed the heat deep into Ray’s body. Ray moaned, shocked and still terrified but suddenly so wanting. Dripping onto Marco’s hand in a failed attempt to dampen the flame that only seemed to rise higher. Licking open his walls with chaotic motions that were impossible to predict but addicting.

“Oh, usually I would not dare speak as such of my lord’s choices, but you’re such a slut. Look at you, husband—so wet already. Such good kindling, aren’t you? Summoning my lord won’t take long at all if you’re already this desperate.” Marco chuckled, pulling his hand free and shoving down his pants. Cock bouncing up and smacking Ray’s cunt. He barely had time to tense up before Marco shoved his cock to the hilt. Rough, wet hands ripped free the gag. “Go ahead, call my lord—your husband—Ace. Moaning like a whore should do it—he so hates being left out of the fun~!”

Marco gripped Ray’s ass and rammed into him. Cock burning hot in his walls as Marco fucked Ray hard. Cruel tip burying into his chest with every hilt as wanton cries were ripped from his throat. Hands bruised on twine as he tried to hold onto the other man, desperate for more despite being fully convinced he would die if he was fucked any harder.

“M-Marco!” Ray protested, sobbing with ecstasy as Marco’s thick cock bruised his cunt.

“O-Oh, calling for a man who’s not your husband? Slut. Stupid, fucking—lucky you sound so sweet—feel so fucking hot—should kill you for that—” Marco huffed, wood creaking under the rapid assault on Ray’s senses. “C’mon, show me why you’re his husband! W-When your stupid cunt’s so wet for his favored priest—are you also a reward for me? Are you rewarding me for my loyalty to our lord? O-Only way you know how, you stupid slut? S-Serving him is its own r-reward—but I guess it’s all you’re really good for, huh?” Marco sneered, heat licking up Ray’s body as they began to be consumed in a fiery orange light.

He slammed into Ray’s cunt, grinding in so deep Ray couldn’t help but sob.

“A-Ahhn—hahhhhhn~!”

“It’s all your good for, isn’t it, slut?” He growled, gold fire licking up Ray’s drenched pussy. Hot like delicate tongues over his shot nerves.

“Y-YES! I-I am—good—all I’m good for! M-Marco! ACE!” Ray screamed as Marco pressed hard over his clit, flicking the swollen mass. He came hard, crying out with confused relief as the fire within only burned hotter.

Tongues of flame licking over his spread cunt and slipping deeper. Forcing Ray to cry out in alarm as he was filled even more with ephemeral tongues. Another pair of hands slipping around his waist as hot breath washed over his slick neck. The heat choking as a deep, throaty chuckle tickled his ear. The shape of a second cock ghosting against his abused walls as Marco let out a sigh of joy.

“My lord~”

“Marco, my favored priest—I see you like my pretty husband.” Another man called out in a silky voice. Marco’s cock jerked and Ray moaned, his cry of pleasure soothed with a soft kiss to his throat. Lips like sheer fabric along his skin. Not quite there. “No shame, as usual. That’s why you’re my favorite. Seems you were correct though—my husband is quite a slut. Taking two cocks so well—we’re quite lucky like that. But unfortunately, they’re not ours yet. Do you know why, Marco?” he asked, licking up Ray’s throat as his ghostly cock rocked deeper into Ray’s stuffed cunt. Walls clenching into the semi-hardness of the foreign cock alongside Marco’s stiff length.

Marco blinked, stupor of devotion still heavy on his features as he thought. His eyes slipping to Ray’s flustered face, soft moans filling the air as Ace’s cock slipped against his sensitive walls. Hot tongue licking up his jaw like a humid puff of air and lapping at his trembling lips. The kiss consuming Ray’s thoughts despite Ace’s attention remaining on Marco, cock patiently thrusting against Ray’s walls and Marco’s still cock.

He tasted of cinnamon and scorched herbs. And despite the acidic bite, Ray wanted more, wanting his tongue to be solid and thick as the promise of fulfillment he clenched down onto. Rather than the flickering, writhing mass of heat and damp that filled his lungs and throat.

“Your husband isn’t ignited yet.” He responded, a smirk slowly growing on his lips.

Ace pulled away with a wet pop, pleased grin on his handsome features.

“He’s not! We have to fuck all those stupid thoughts from his head before he can accept us—I trust you can assist your lord with this task?” Ace asked coyly, wood giving way to hot, inhuman skin against Ray’s bare back. More real than the hands on his hips but still not there enough.

Marco looked down at Ray and snorted.

“Easiest task you’ve asked of me yet, my lord. He’s already halfway fucked out of his mind—pussy so wet and we’ve just gotten started.” Marco crooned mockingly, slipping his cock almost all the way out before slamming back in. Ray yelped, his hair pulled as he was turned to face the man behind him properly rather than sideways.

Half merged with the effigy and mostly aflame, was a man with dark hair and silver eyes. Flower wreath half broken on his broad shoulders. Freckles sparked across his face as he grinned, eagerly shoving his tongue down Ray’s throat again as he joined Marco’s brutal rhythm. Both cocks burning his sopping cunt with their thrusts, pulling apart his sanity as the fire rose higher up his body. Like hot tongues, they lapped at his skin. Driving him to moan harder into Ace’s eager lips.

“There you go—stupid slut. Only need to serve us like this—only thing you’re good at. Only thing you need to be good at.” Marco panted, plowing into Ray’s cunt aggressively. No mercy to be found between them as Ray squirmed. Soon finding it impossible to do even that as he was forced to cum again and again on their cocks. Neither seeing fit to release him from the pleasure as they took turns kissing him senseless.

Ace’s lips consuming his sanity but Marco eating away at his struggles with honeysuckle on his tongue. Almost soothing him for the sadistic fire burning his body up from the inside out. Telling him sweetly to give up.

“J-Just give in, let us have all of you~ Let us empty you out of everything so you can carry what we know you need. My spark. That which will allow me to bully your sloppy cunt every night. This? This is how I give it to you—but you have to let me in. ‘S how I ignited Marco—made him my priest. S-so pretty under me then—just like your cute pussy looks so precious drooling on our cocks. Give up. Give in to us. Let me fuck your desperate cunt properly.”

“He’s right—nngh!—he knows how best you can serve him. S-So stop thinking with that dumb head of yours and we’ll fill that cunt as it should be. His cunt—his husband. O-Our stupid fucking slut, yoi~”

Insults and vague threats the closest thing to kindness they had to offer.

“Your pussy is really holding onto our cocks—already cock drunk, huh?”

“W-Wanna burn you from the inside out until you think the world is freezing without my cock!”

“C’mon, yoi, give us another one—it’s all you have to offer us of value anyway.”

“Th-Think you’ve been enough of a slut for our cum?”

“Do you dare think you’ve earned such a gift, yoi?” they derided in turn, overwhelming Ray’s senses, their cocks plowing into his limp body as he whined breathily.

“Hnnnnngh~ M-Marco—Ace—p-please~ O-Ooooooh~ Please—pleasepleaseplease! B-Bless me w-with your cum—I-I want—Ahhnnnn~!” Ray wailed out as he came hard, arousal squirting onto Marco’s abdomen in a wet splash.

Bruising hands clenched onto his body as they slammed into his cunt, grinding in deep as they filled him with boiling cum.

“H-Heh! H-Hear that, my lord? Little slut husband thinks he’s been blessed by us~” Marco panted out with a dizzying smile cast in a soft, golden light from all around them. Fire roaring and licking over their bared bodies.

“He’s just a silly little cum slut—let him dream.” Ace laughed hoarsely. “B-Besides… you want to know the best part about blessings?” he asked, voice dropping to a deep purr.

“What’s that, my lord?” Marco asked playfully.

Ace’s cock slipped free and for a moment, Ray could breathe, the tension in his body relaxing as he no longer had to be so harshly stretched open.

Only for Ace to slam his thick and painfully real cock back in so hard his balls smacked against Marco’s cock.

“I get to decide where the blessing stops!” Ace laughed cruelly, kissing Ray’s cheek with damp, burning lips. “This fire is only going to burn hotter, cute little slut—better get used to it!” Starting the ruthless fuck once again as Ray sobbed, exhaustion scorched from his bones with every relentless thrust of the two cruel men.

“That’s it, slut. There we are. Let me fill you up with the burning need to please me.” Ace whispered softly, cock head buried in so deep it made Ray wail brokenly. Walls aching at the cruel stretch around their cocks in every possible direction.

He’d never been so fucked open—like the slut they’d claimed him as. Their husband slut.

“Finally, a proper fire.” Marco sighed, grunting as hot cum spurted over Ray’s swollen cunt, pooling out of his stuffed pussy. Ray collapsed against them, bonds falling apart around him as they held him up in their firm arms.

Caressing his skin and kissing whatever they could reach as they pounded his throbbing cunt. Slick, hot skin pressed against his with desperate teeth and tongue pulling him apart at the seams. Lapping at his overheated skin hungrily.

Maybe he really was consumed by the fire.

Because Ray couldn’t think of anything but the next ‘blessing’ they’d give his sloppy cunt. Eagerly creaming on their cocks as—just as his husbands promised—the fire burned even brighter all-around Ray. And even brighter deeper inside him. A blessing or damnation—Ray no longer cared.

If he ever did to begin with.

“A-Ah! Ah! A—aaaahn~! A-Ace! M-Mar—co-ooooo~! Hot! H-Hot~! S-So hot—d-don’t stop! Don’t st-stop, please!” Ray begged breathlessly, body trembling as he fell headfirst into another messy orgasm on their cocks. Someone laughed, low and sweet into his sweaty hair.

“Stopping? Oh, silly slut, like we were ever going to stop. Taking our cocks when we please is your duty now. No way a stupid bitch like you can mess that up, right?” Marco purred, grinding against Ray’s clit as he stared up sightlessly. Utterly overwhelmed by their cocks. “Only need to keep that pussy wet—no thinking required for that.”

“He’s pretty good at it so far—but practice makes perfect, doesn’t it, Marco?” Ace chuckled. “Took a few weeks for you to take my cock right. The rewards were great, though, weren’t they?” he asked, still railing into Ray’s soaked cunt.

Marco sighed wistfully.

“Oh, they were divine. Not that I needed them after that—worth every cleansing ritual to visit your realm and start the bridge. And now it’s almost complete. Anchored inside of his cute little pussy. Does it please you, my lord?” Marco asked, slipping his tongue over Ray’s as it drooled down his chin.

“Oh, it pleases me greatly. I can feel the circle forming inside him. Anchoring me to your world. S-So glad I chose you two—best sluts I could have under my thrall.” Ace bit down on Ray’s throat with a wild moan, cumming violently into his cunt. Ray moaned, jerking up a the burning force inside his overstimulated walls. “C’mon, slut. Take my sigil. Show me who you belong to.”

Ray whined, loud and desperate as he jerked between them. Intimately aware of the fire inside his cunt. Scorching his walls as flames licked along his clit. Free hand falling over the core of the heat.

Marco snorted, pulling free of Ray’s cunt.

Despite himself, Ray cried out, instantly missing the stretch of his walls around Marco despite the difficulty he had conceiving it ever fit to begin with.

“Well, he certainly knows where you belong.” He commented blithely. “Finish it, my lord. Truly anchor yourself here.” Marco begged breathlessly with wide eyes, regarding his—their ‘lord’.

Ace huffed, still pleased as Marco took a step to the side and Ray was shoved to the ground. Crying out as he collapsed onto a jagged pile of smoldering logs. One arm buried in deep in the cinders and his knees buried instantly under thick ash. Ray gasped, attempting to stand in fear of the flames that still actively licked up at him but found no strength left in his body. Instead, collapsing onto a chunk of charcoal the size of a football. The gritty texture scratching at his face, glasses falling away as he was shoved deeper by a firm hand on his head.

Grasping his hair for a better grip, flecks of charcoal erupting into his face and making him cough as the heat pressed into his back. Another hand slipping beneath him to lift up his ass by the pussy. Fingers slipping between his folds as a firm body draped across his back.

Pinned into the remnants of the unholy alter of wood and fire, Ray couldn’t even sputter as Ace’s cock slammed back into his walls.

He screamed, voice seeping into the dwindling fire and the dense trees around them.

But Ace—whatever he was—was cruel. And desperate to impale himself as deep as possible within Ray. Slamming into his thighs with bruising force. Knocking the breath from his lungs in sharp, rapid pants. Dizzy, pussy burning with exhaustion and overstimulation, a calloused thumb rubbed his clit in harsh circles. Ray teetered on the edge of unconsciousness.

There was a crunch and the hazy shape of Marco kneeled beside him. Stroking his damp face with an almost kind smile as their lord fucked him with a murderous desperation.

“Who do you belong to?” he asked, voice dangerously soft over the cracking of scorched wood and wet clapping of skin.

“Confess to your priest, Ray. Who owns your slutty cunt and soul?” Ace demanded, panting hard.

“A-Ace! Ace! Ace!” Ray begged desperately, crying out for… something.

More?

Less?

Ace, for certain.

In whatever capacity he saw fit to give Ray.

“You swear it?” Fire licked between his spread thighs and folds, seeping into his cunt to force him open wider. Making his cunt struggle to clench down on Ace’s cock.

“YES~! I s-swear, I-I’m Ace’s—I’m yours! All yours!”

Ace pulled back Ray’s head by the hair and Marco spat onto Ray’s open mouth with an expectant look.

“And what are you?”

Ray swallowed hard, body beginning to seize up in harsh, clenching trembles.

“Your slutty husband.” He whispered. Ace pinching his clit as Marco smirked in satisfaction, the fire that had been building finally exploding violently from Ray. “A-AaAaaahhn~ ah-hahnn! O-Oooo—ooh! O-Oh~!” Ray gasped, moaning like a whore as his lord spilled hot cum into quivering walls. Hotter than any fire Ray had felt, and blinding him.

Until Ray saw nothing but darkness. Soft, pleased voices calling out to him as he collapsed in a used, filthy pile.

“Excellent ritual, my lord…”

“Thank you, my priest. I take it you have a request for your first reward?”

A hand rubbed the gritty skin of Ray’s numbed ass, fingertips slipping in the thick spurts of cum still leaking from his pussy. Rubbing between his cheeks coyly.

“…I do.”

“Why wait?” their lord chuckled. “As my husband, he will obey my commands… if I want him to awaken… for my pleasure.”

Presumably, Ray was granted a temporary mercy. For he slept deeply after that. Distantly dreaming of what could await him once he was roused from sleep. He took it as the kindness it was but…

Still, he found himself excited for what they could have planned for him next.

#one piece smut #spooktober 2024 #marco the phoenix #fire fist ace #one piece oc #if u saw this without the question posted no u didn't #one piece yandere #i realize very late that you meant for this to be either a fae fic or a cult fic #and instead thought it was a tie between who was the worshipper and who was the 'god' leader thing #... i am so sorry ;_;

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loverandservantoftheahlulbayt · 2 years ago

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🍃🕊🍃 The Ka’aba, The House Of Allah (SWT)

In the province of Hejaz in the western part of Arabia, not far from the Red Sea, there lies the town of Makka. In the center of this town there is a small square building made of stones, about 60 feet long, 60 feet wide and 60 feet high. Since time immemorial this town and this stone built house has been known to world travelers. This is Baitullah, the House of Allah. Its sanctity and antiquity is older than history itself.

Tradition goes that the Ka’aba was ordained by Allah to be built in the shape of the House in Heaven called Baitul Ma’amoor. Allah in his infinite Mercy ordained a similar place on earth and Prophet Adam (as) was the first to build this place.

The Bible, in the Chapter of Genesis describes its building when God ordained Abraham (as) to erect a Shrine for worship when Abraham (as) was ordered to go to the Southern desert with his wife Hagera and infant son Ismael (as).

The Old Testament describes this building as the Shrine of God at several places, but the one built at Ma’amoor is very much similar to the one at Makka. There is no doubt that it was referring to the stone built house at Makka.

Qur’an brought this story into the full light of history. In Sura 3:90 Qur’an says

“Allah has spoken the Truth, therefore follow the creed of Ibrahim (as), a man of pure faith and no idolater”.

The first house established for the people was at Makka, a Holy place and guidance to all beings. Quran firmly establishes the fact that Ibrahim (as) was the real founder of the Holy Shrine. When Prophet Ibrahim (as) built the Holy Shrine in Makka, his prayers were that this place should remain a center of worship for all good and pious people; that Allah should keep his family the custodians of the Holy place.

Ever since, Ismael (as) the son of Ibrahim (as) who helped his father to build this place and his descendants remained the custodians of the Holy Shrine. History tells us that centuries passed and the guardianship of the Kaaba remained in the family of Ismael (as) until the name of Abde Manaf came into the limelight. He inherited this service and made it much more prominent.

His son Hashim took this leadership and extended it to many other towns of Hejaz so much so that many pilgrims flocked annually to this place and enjoyed Hashims’s hospitality. A feast was given in honor of the pilgrims, food and water was served to all guests by the family of Hashim. This prominence created jealousy and his brother Abdu sham’s adopted son Ummayya tried to create trouble.

There was a dispute in which Ummayya failed and left Makka to settle down in the Northern provinces of Syria (Sham) currently known as Syria. After Hashim his brother Muttalib and after him Hashim’s son Shyba who became known as Abdul Muttalib assumed the leadership of the family. He organized feasts and supplies of water to the pilgrims during the annual festival of Pilgrimage to the Holy Shrine.

Prophet Ibrahim (as) built this House for devout worship to one God. But within his lifetime people disobeyed his orders and began to put idols inside the Ka’aba. Ibrahim (as) had to clean the House of these idols and of Idle worshippers.

He told the people that this was a symbolic house of God. God does not live there for He is everywhere. People did not understand this logic and no sooner had Ibrahim (as) died the people, out of reverence, filled the place with idols again.

They thronged to this place annually and worshipped their personal gods, It was over Four Thousand years later that the last of the line of prophet (S), Muhammad Ibne Abdullah entered Makka triumphantly, went inside the Ka’aba and, with the help of his cousin and son in law ‘Ali Ibne Abi Talib, (as) destroyed all the idols of Ka’aba with their own hands.

At one stage of this destruction of idols, the tallest of the idol Hubbol was brought down after ‘Ali (as) had to stand on the shoulders of the Prophet (S) to carry out God’s orders. The Prophet (as) of Islam was reciting the Verse from the Quran:

“Truth hath come and falsehood hath vanished.” (17:81)

This was done in the 8th year of Hijra, January 630 AD after the bloodless victory at Makka by the Prophet (S) of Islam.

Historically when Ibrahim was ordered by Allah to build the Shrine for worship over a small he uncovered the original foundations of the Ka’aba built by Adam (as). Ibrahim (as) with the help of his son Ismael erected the new shrine on the same foundations. Originally it contained only four walls without a roof .

Centuries later during the time of Kusayi who was the leader of the Tribe of Quraish in Makka a taller building was completed with a roof and a quadrangle wall around it to give it the shape of a sanctuary and doors all around the sanctuary walls. People entered through these doors to come to the Ka’aba for worship.

It is now about 60 feet high, 60 feet wide from east to west and 60 feet from north to south. A door is fixed about 7 feet above ground level facing North East. A Black stone (Hajar al Aswad) was fixed into its eastern corner. In front of the building was Maqame Ibrahim, the arch shape gate known as that of Banu Shayba and the Zamzam Well.

Just outside are the Hills called Safa and Merwa and the distance between the hills is about 500 yards. These days both of the hills are enclosed into the sanctuary walls with a roof over it.

The whole building is built of the layers of grey blue stone from the hills surrounding Makka. The four corners roughly face the four points of the compass. At the East is the Black stone (Rukn el Aswad), at the North is el Ruken el Iraqi, at the west al Rukne el Shami and at the south al Rukne el Yamani.

The four walls are covered with a curtain (Kiswa). The kiswa is usually of black brocade with the Shahada outlined in the weave of the fabric. About 2/3rd’s of the way up runs a gold embroidered band covered with Qur'anic text.

In the Eastern corner about 5 feet above ground the Hajar el Aswad (the blackstone) is fixed into the wall. Its real nature is difficult to determine, its visible shape is worn smooth by hand touching and kissing. Its diameter is around 12 inches.

Opposite the North west wall but not connected with it, is a semicircular wall of white marble. It is 3 feet high and about 5 feet thick. This semicircular space enjoys an especial consideration and pilgrims wait in queue to find a place to pray there.

The graves of Ismael and his mother Hajera are within this semicircular wall. Between the archway and the facade (N.E.) is a little building with a small dome, the Maqame Ibrahim. Inside it is kept a stone bearing the prints of two human feet. Prophet Ibrahim is said to have stood on this stone when building the Ka’aba and marks of his feet are miraculously preserved.

On the outskirts of the building to the North East is the ‘Zamzam Well’ (this is now put under ground).

🍃🕊🍃 History of the building of the Ka’aba

Qur’an in Surah Baqara Verses 121 to 127 described it clearly that Allah had ordained his servant Ibrahim to build the Shrine there for worship of One God. During Kusayi’s time it was rebuilt and fortified. During the early years of Prophet Muhammad (S) before he announced his ministry, the Ka’aba was damaged by floods and it was rebuilt again.

When the Black stone was to be put in its place the Makkans quarreled among themselves as to who should have the honor to place it there. They had just decided that the first comer to the quadrangle should be given the task of deciding as to who should have the honor. Muhammad (S) came in and was assigned this task.

He advised them to place the stone in a cloak and ordered the heads of each Tribe each to take an end and bring the cloak nearer the corner on the eastern side. He himself then took out the stone and placed it in its position. It has been fixed there ever since.

After the martyrdom of the family of the Prophet (S) at Karbala in 61 Hijri (681 AD), the Ummayad Caliph Yazid Ibne Moawiya did not stop there in the pursuit of his destruction. He sent a large contingent under the command of Haseen Ibne Namir to Madina which destroyed the Mosque of the Prophet.

They did not stop there but proceeded to Makka and demolished the four walls of the Ka’aba and killed thousands of Muslims who protested. Yazid died and Ibne Namir returned to Damascus, Ka’aba was rebuilt by Abdullah Ibne Zubayr and his associates.

Umawi forces came back to Makka and killed Abdullah Ibne Zubayr, hung his body on the gates of the Ka’aba for three months for all to see the Umawi power. But eventually this arrogance of power brought its own consequences and Mukhtar became the ruler in Iraq. Under his guidance the Ka’aba was refurbished and pilgrims began to arrive in safety to perform Hajj.

The Ka’aba successfully withstood the Karamatian invasion of 317/929, only the Blackstone was carried away which was returned some twenty years later. In the year 1981 the Wahhabis brought tanks inside the Ka’aba to crush the kahtani revolution against the Saudi regime and almost demolished the South Eastern Wall. This was later restored with the help of the Makkan people.

Every man living in Makka in the 6th and 7th century must out of necessity have had some relationship with the Ka’aba. On the Muhammad (S), the Prophet of Islam, the Qur’an is silent during the Makkans period in this respect. All that is known is that the Muslim community of the period turned towards Jerusalem in prayers.

Subsequently about a year and a half after the Hijra the Muslims were ordered during prayers which were led by the Prophet of Islam himself to turn towards Makka. The particular mosque in Madina where this happened is called Masjid al-Qiblatain, meaning the mosque with two Qiblas. The Qur’an tells the Muslims,

“Turn then thy face towards the sacred mosque and wherever ye be turn your faces towards that part ” (2: 139-144)

At this same period the Quran began to lay stress on the religion of Ibrahim, presenting Islam as a return to the purity of the religion of Ibrahim (as) which, obscured by Judaism and Christianity, shone forth in its original brightness in the Quran.

The pilgrimages to the Ka’aba and ritual progressions around the building were continued, but were now for the glorification of One God. The Abrahamic vision of the Ka’aba created a means of discerning an orthodox origin buried in the midst of pagan malpractices to which the first Muslims pointed the way.

Every year after the Hajj ceremony the place is closed for one month and on the Day of Ashura the Ka’aba is washed from inside by the Water from the well of Zamzam and a new Kiswa is brought to cover the Ka’aba for the next year.

This is the story of the Ka’aba and the persons who protected it and remained its custodians and protectors from the satanic and evil forces throughout history. Muhammad (S) and the people of his household (AhlulBayt) were the protectors of the Ka’aba, and currently the 12th Imam (aj) from the direct descent of the Prophet (S) of Islam is the real protector, its custodian and guardian and shall remain as such while in concealment. In the following pages we shall unfold the lives and times of these 14 Ma’sumeen Alaihimussalam.

🍃🕊🍃 www.shiavault.com 🍃🕊🍃

#ahlulbayt #islam and shia #imam hussain #imam mahdi #fatima #imam ali #prophet muhammad #ahlulbait #fatima zahra #imam husayn

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ahlulbaytnetworks · 22 days ago

Text

🍃🕊🍃 The Ka’aba, The House Of Allah (SWT)

Qur’an brought this story into the full light of history. In Sura 3:90 Qur’an says

“Allah has spoken the Truth, therefore follow the creed of Ibrahim (as), a man of pure faith and no idolater”.

“Truth hath come and falsehood hath vanished.” (17:81)

This was done in the 8th year of Hijra, January 630 AD after the bloodless victory at Makka by the Prophet (S) of Islam.

Just outside are the Hills called Safa and Merwa and the distance between the hills is about 500 yards. These days both of the hills are enclosed into the sanctuary walls with a roof over it.

On the outskirts of the building to the North East is the ‘Zamzam Well’ (this is now put under ground).

🍃🕊🍃 History of the building of the Ka’aba

“Turn then thy face towards the sacred mosque and wherever ye be turn your faces towards that part ” (2: 139-144)

🍃🕊🍃 www.shiavault.com 🍃🕊🍃

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noeticprayer · 7 months ago

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The Icons of the Most Holy Theotokos of Pochaev

Reading from the Synaxarion:

The Icon of the Mother of God of Pochaev - Metropolitan Neophytus, a bishop belonging to the see of Constantinople, was traveling through Volhynia in Ukraine where he was given hospitality by a pious woman, Anna Goyskaya. The bishop gave this woman an icon of the holy Theotokos, which began to work miracles, including the healing of her blind brother. In 1597 the icon was given to the monks residing in Pochaev near the border of Galicia, where the Mother of God had appeared in 1340, leaving an imprint of her footprint in the rock, from which a stream gushed forth. In 1675 when the Lavra of Pochaev was besieged by the Moslem Turks, it was saved by the miraculous intervention of the Mother of God through her wonderworking icon. Even though the Lavra of Pochaev came into Uniate hands for over a century, miracles continued to be worked through the holy icon. Since its return to the Orthodox Catholic Church in 1831, the icon has been a grace-bestowing support for Orthodox Christians, especially those in western Ukraine and the Carpathian region.

Apolytikion of Icons of the Holy Theotokos of Pochaev in the Plagal of the First Tone

They that pray before thy holy icon, O sovereign Lady, are made worthy of healing, receive the gift of understanding of the true Faith, and repel the attacks of the Hagarenes; likewise for us who fall down before thee, do thou ask for forgiveness of our sins. Enlighten our hearts with devout purpose and raise thy prayer to thy Son for the salvation of our souls.

Kontakion of Icons of the Holy Theotokos of Pochaev in the First Tone

Thine icon of Pochaev, O Theotokos, hath been shown to be a source of healing and a confirmation of the Orthodox Faith. Therefore deliver us who flee to it from danger and temptation; preserve thy Lavra unharmed; strengthen Orthodoxy in the neighbouring lands; and loose thy suppliants from sins; for thou canst do whatsoever thou dost will.

Icon of the Mother of God

Reading from the Synaxarion:

The Icon of the Mother of God "Joy of All That Sorrow" - As with so many other icons of the Theotokos, wonderworking copies of this icon have been found throughout Orthodox Russia, each with its own history and moving collection of miracles. In this icon, the most holy Mother of God is depicted standing full stature sometimes with, sometimes without the Divine Child in her arms; she is surrounded by all manner of the sick and the suffering, to whom Angels of the Lord bear gifts of mercy, consolation, and suitable aid from the most holy Theotokos. The icon "Joy of all that Sorrow" was inspired by the hymn of the same name; see page 222 in Great Compline. Through one copy of this icon, the sister of Patriarch Joachim was healed at the end of the seventeenth century in Moscow, from which time the feast was established. Another copy of the icon was found in Saint Petersburg; on July 23, 1888, during the severe thunderstorm, lightning struck a chapel at a glass factory, burning the int erior walls of the church, but leaving the icon unsinged. From the violent disturbance of the air, the icon was knocked to the floor, the poor-box broke open, and twelve copper coins adhered to the icon in various places; afterwards many miracles were worked by the grace of the holy icon.

Apolytikion of Icon of the Mother of God in the Fourth Tone

To God's Birthgiver let us run now most earnestly, we sinners all and wretched ones, and fall prostrate in repentance, calling from the depths of our souls: Lady, come unto our aid, have compassion upon us; hasten thou, for we are lost in a throng of transgressions; turn not thy servants away with empty hands, for thee alone do we have as our only hope.

Kontakion of Icon of the Mother of God in the Plagal of the Second Tone

We have no other help, we have no other hope, but thee, O sovereign Lady; do thou help us. In thee do we hope, and of thee do we boast, for we are thy servants. Let us not be put to shame.

Epistle Reading

The Reading is from St. Paul's Letter to the Romans 14:9-18

Brethren, to this end Christ died and lived again, that he might be Lord both of the dead and of the living. Why do you pass judgment on your brother? Or you, why do you despise your brother? For we shall all stand before the judgment seat of God; for it is written. "As I live, says the Lord, every knee shall bow to me, and every tongue shall give praise to God." So each of us shall give account of himself to God. Then let us no more pass judgment on one another, but rather decide never to put a stumbling block or hindrance in the way of a brother. I know and am persuaded in the Lord Jesus that nothing is unclean in itself; but it is unclean for any one who thinks it unclean. If your brother is being injured by what you eat, you are no longer walking in love. Do not let what you eat cause the ruin of one for whom Christ died. So do not let your good be spoken of as evil. For the kingdom of God is not food and drink but righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit; he who thu s serves Christ is acceptable to God and approved by men.

Gospel Reading

The Reading is from the Gospel According to Matthew 12:14-16; 22-30

At that time, the Pharisees took counsel against Jesus, how to destroy him. Jesus, aware of this, withdrew from there. And many followed him, and he healed them all, and ordered them not to make him known.

Then a blind and dumb demoniac was brought to him, and he healed him, so that the dumb man spoke and saw. And all the people were amazed, and said, "Can this be the Son of David?" But when the Pharisees heard it they said, "It is only by Beelzebul, the prince of demons, that this man casts out demons." Knowing their thoughts, he said to them, "Every kingdom divided against itself is laid waste, and no city or house divided against itself will stand; and if Satan casts out Satan, he is divided against himself; how then will his kingdom stand? And if I cast out demons by Beelzebul, by whom do your sons cast them out? Therefore they shall be your judges. But if it is by the Spirit of God that I cast out demons, then the kingdom of God has come upon you. Or how can one enter a strong man's house and plunder his goods, unless he first binds the strong man? Then indeed he may plunder his house. He who is not with me is against me, and he who does not gather with me scatters."

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uacboo · 8 years ago

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Happy Birthday Antonio Vivaldi!

With Spring approaching, enjoy Spring from Vivaldi’s Four Seasons with Violin’s Bad Boy, David Garrett from a performance in Tel Aviv in December: https://youtu.be/6Y_v2JMlWgs

Vivaldi Biography Antonio Lucio Vivaldi was born on March 4, 1678, in Venice, Italy. His father, Giovanni Battista Vivaldi, was a professional violinist who taught his young son to play as well. Through his father, Vivaldi met and learned from some of the finest musicians and composers in Venice at the time. While his violin practice flourished, a chronic shortness of breath barred him from mastering wind instruments. Vivaldi sought religious training as well as musical instruction. At the age of 15, he began studying to become a priest. He was ordained in 1703. Due to his red hair, Vivaldi was known locally as "il Prete Rosso," or "the Red Priest." Vivaldi's career in the clergy was short-lived. Health problems prevented him from delivering mass and drove him to abandon the priesthood shortly after his ordination. Musical Career At the age of 25, Antonio Vivaldi was named master of violin at the Ospedale della Pietà (Devout Hospital of Mercy) in Venice. He composed most of his major works in this position over three decades. The Ospedale was an institution where orphans received instruction -- the boys in trades and the girls in music. The most talented musicians joined an orchestra that played Vivaldi's compositions, including religious choral music. Under Vivaldi's leadership, the orchestra gained international attention. In 1716, he was promoted to music director. In addition to his choral music and concerti, Vivaldi had begun regularly writing opera scores by 1715; about 50 of these scores remain. His two most successful operatic works, La constanza trionfante and Farnace, were performed in multiple revivals during Vivaldi's lifetime. In addition to his regular employment, Vivaldi accepted a number of short-term positions funded by patrons in Mantua and Rome. It was during his term in Mantua, from around 1717 to 1721, that he wrote his four-part masterpiece, The Four Seasons. He paired the pieces with four sonnets, which he may have written himself. Vivaldi's fans and patrons included members of European royal families. One of his cantatas, Gloria e Imeneo, was written specifically for the wedding of King Louis XV. He was also a favorite of Emperor Charles VI, who honored Vivaldi publicly by naming him a knight. Later Life and Death Vivaldi's renown as a composer and musician in early life did not translate into lasting financial success. Eclipsed by younger composers and more modern styles, Vivaldi left Venice for Vienna, Austria, possibly hoping to find a position in the imperial court located there. He found himself without a prominent patron following the death of Charles VI, however, and died in poverty in Vienna on July 28, 1741. He was buried in a simple grave after a funeral service that proceeded without music. Musicians and scholars revived Vivaldi's music in the early 20th century, during which time many of the composer's unknown works were recovered from obscurity. Alfredo Casella, a composer and pianist, organized the Vivaldi Week revival in 1939. The music of Vivaldi has been performed widely since World War II. The choral composition Gloria, re-introduced to the public at Casella's Vivaldi Week, is particularly famous and is performed regularly at Christmas celebrations worldwide. Vivaldi's work, including nearly 500 concertos, have influenced subsequent composers, including Johann Sebastian Bach. Sources: biography.com and YouTube No 🎶 at his funeral😢

#vivaldi #the four seasons #violinist #david garrett #gloria #Charles VI #King Louis XV #devout hospital of mercy #opera #baroque music #Venice #the red priest

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microcosme11 · 3 years ago

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Young Englishman is upset about Napoleon’s demise

Henry Edward Fox was the son of Lord and Lady Holland, who were defenders of Napoleon; they sent crates of books and toys to Longwood which was much appreciated. Henry Fox’s journal is full of Napoleonic people. He was in Paris in the summer of 1821 (excerpts):

July 5....on my return I was told of the official account of the Emperor's death at St Helena. Good God! what a melancholy end to so illustrious a life. England will now open her eyes and will see the shame, disgrace and atrocity of his imprisonment. She will perhaps feel how her faith and hospitality will be recorded to posterity; and the paltry gratification of having embittered and shortened the latter days of the greatest man this world ever produced will be a poor recompense for the national disgrace and dishonour.

July 6. The fatal news of last night is confirmed with more details. It is said he died very devout and surrounded by priests. That such an understanding should break down to such a degree is very melancholy but not surprizing. The last eight years of his life were enough to drive any body quite mad. To accustom myself to think of him, who occupied so much of my thoughts and all my political affections—to think of him as dead, as annihilated, is almost impossible. Now I care for nothing. Bourbons, Republics, Whigs, Tories, Reformers, it is all indifferent; I do not care who wins or who loses. I only hope that his enemies may lose the little fame they have gained, and may be sacrificed without mercy as an atonement to his ashes.

Friday, July 13. ...The meanness, shabbiness and harshness of the Government exceeds the power of belief; it is infamous and makes one shudder to think that such wretches should form part of the civilized society in Europe. Their cruelty and petty vengeance is only suited to barbarians. Their object is now accomplished. He, who ten years ago made them tremble and crouch, has by treachery and misfortune fallen into their hands. They have cut him off from every family and social tie, they have chained him upon an unhealthy rock, and have allowed him to breathe his last without a friend or consoler near him: and they think all this will be admired and approved of. May the curses of an angry Heaven fall upon them, and may they pay doubly and trebly the sorrows of his breast.

14 July. Eight people are supposed to know about the Emperor's fortune. — came to him in the Cent Jours at Malmaison and gave him two pieces of advice. One to trust to his bank for money, and arrangements were made with him in consequence; and (alas! why did he not follow that too?) never to trust himself to the English, that he would only meet with the most unlimited cruelty, and that whatever the people might be, the Government were only capable of revenge and malignity and quite destitute of any generosity or elevation.

— The journal of Henry Edward Fox (afterwards fourth and last Lord Holland) 1818-1830.

Link

#memoirs journals diaries #Henry Edward Fox #Lord and Lady Holland #news of Napoleon's death reaches Europe #unlimited cruelty of the English

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bellybiologist · 2 years ago

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Some Ramblings

[[Content Warnings for Death, Cancer, and pooossible spoilers for Netflix The Sandman]] Last week, I finished watching the Sandman series on netflix with friends. The BF highly enjoyed it and i wanted to get in on it too so i could talk about it with him. And i def recommend it! There are Some Notes™ but still very much worth the watch and support. (It’s very gay, and that by itself gives it a lot of points)

The big reason i’m bringing it up because my favorite episode “The sound of her wings” really did a lot for me.

For those who were keeping up when my mother died of pancreatic cancer August last year, you may remember that she had chosen for herself to be taken off life support. She was completely Lucid and present when making this decision, so we as a family, a family who several times have collectively had casual conversations about how “we wouldnt want to stay on life support” while watching things like Grey’s anatomy together, respected it and understood.

So the deed was done. She was given a “Merciful release” which, for those who dont know, is when they are taken off life support, the oxygen is turned up, and they are given a morphine drip to minimize suffering.

Objectively, this was what she wanted, and we all feel it was the best choice and outcome given the cards we were dealt, but during the lows of my grieving, it’s so very hard to not have regrets about it.

We were told that there was no definite time that she would pass, and cuz of Covid, we werent able to stay as long as we wanted.

It took about 8 hours for her to finally pass after we left the hospital. My aunt woke me up from sleeping after midnight on August 7th to let me know.

During the lows of my grieving, it’s very difficult to not think that we just let her suffocate alone in the hospital, and the thought popping up at regular intervals has really fucked me up this past year, imma be real.

Now, back to the Sandman. My family is Christian, but i never really was super devout or anything, but the episode “The sound of Her wings” really brought me a lot of comfort concerning the above situation.

I really enjoyed Neil Gaiman’s interpretation of death, both in the Netflix series and the DC incarnation. And Kirby Howell-Baptiste played the part incredibly. The character was fun, down to earth, and my favorite character of the series outright. Plus, I can simply say my favorite DC character is Death 😌.

The concept of kind and friendly psychopomps is a good one. It’s nice to know that there was someone who couldve been there to guide her to afterlife. so she wasn’t just alone, that she had a friendly face on this final leg of her journey. Because she was so tired. After what she had been through, no one deserves to be alone, yknow?

Thinking about it still makes me cry, but they aren’t pained tears like they usually are. This character and episode has brought some healing, I feel.

#verzi rambles

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traumacatholic · 3 years ago

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“When she was restored to communion, what did Fabiola do? Having once suffered shipwreck, she was unwilling again to face the risks of the sea. Therefore, instead of re-embarking on her old life, she sold all that she could lay hands on of her property (it was large and suitable to her rank). And she converted it into money so she could give it to the poor. She was the first person to found a hospital, where she might gather sufferers from the streets and where she might nurse the unfortunate victims of sickness and want.

She often carried on her own shoulders persons infected with jaundice or covered with filth. She also often cleansed the revolting discharge of wounds which others, even men, could not bear to look at. She fed her patients with her own hand, and moistened the scarce breathing lips of the dying with sips of liquid.

I know of many wealthy and devout persons who, unable to overcome their natural repugnance to such sights, perform this work of mercy by the agency of others. They give money instead of personal aid. I do not blame them and am far from construing their weakness of resolution into a want of faith.

While, however, I pardon such squeamishness, I extol to the skies the enthusiastic zeal of one who is above it. A great faith makes little of such trifles. Fabiola so wonderfully alleviated the disease of the suffering poor that many healthy people began to envy the sick.”

Saint Jerome on Saint Fabiola

#Catholic #Catholicism #Christian #Christianity #Saint Fabiola

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mybeautifulchristianjourney · 3 years ago

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Devotional Hours Within the Bible

by J.R. Miller

Pilate Sentencing Jesus (John 19:1-16)

Pilate's portrait is hung up in the gallery of the world's great criminals. His is one of the names which never will be forgotten. The incident of the scourging is one of the darkest blots in the story of that terrible Friday. Pilate claimed that he could find no fault in Jesus, and that He should be released - yet, hoping that it would satisfy the Jews, he ordered Him to be scourged. The scourging must be considered as a part of Christ's sufferings as the world's Redeemer. The shame and indignity of being tied like a slave to a whipping post and then beaten until He seemed dead, we never can realize, for, thanks to the softening influence of the religion of Christ, such treatment even of the worst criminals is now unknown in civilized lands. There is, however, a word in Isaiah which gives a fresh meaning to this part of Christ's suffering. "With His stripes we are healed" (Isaiah 53:5), says the prophet. The peace we enjoy is ours, because the rod of chastisement fell upon Him - because He was smitten. Our soul's diseases are healed, their wounds made whole, because the body of Jesus was gashed and lacerated by the horrible scourge!

After the cruel scourging came the crowning with thorns and the mockery of Jesus as a King. "The soldiers twisted together a crown of thorns and put it on his head." We ought to look with great love and reverence at the picture - Jesus the Son of God, our Savior, standing there in the midst of heathen soldiers, mocked and insulted by them. We know how truly He is a King, and what a glorious King He is.

When the crusaders had captured the Holy City, Palestine became an independent kingdom. Godfrey, of Bouillon, was made king of Jerusalem, and it was proposed that he be crowned with a golden crown. But Godfrey's noble answer was, "I will not wear a crown of gold in the city where my Savior wore a crown of thorns."

It is a sweet thought, too, that because Jesus wore a crown of thorns in the day of His shame - His redeemed ones shall wear crowns of glory in the life to come.

In one sense this mock coronation of Jesus was very significant. Was He really ever more a King than when He was enduring His cross? All through John's gospel we have seen that Jesus spoke of His going to His cross - as His being glorified. His cross really was His throne. It was on the cross that He fought the great battle and won the great victory of redemption. The cross was the ladder that led up to His throne. His crown of thorns, too, was fitter for Him than a crown of gold would have been, for He was the King of sorrow ; He reached His glory - by His sufferings; He saved His people - by dying for them. He is adored and worshiped now as the King who has lifted men up by His own sorrows and blood to eternal life and blessedness.

Pilate showed pitiful weakness at every step in his dealing with Jesus. He knew there was no sin in Him, and yet he brought Him out to the people and surrendered Him to them. "Behold the Man!" Our eyes should be fixed upon Jesus as He stands there in the presence of the multitude. On His head - is the crown of thorns, and around His torn and bleeding body - is a purple robe, mock emblems of royalty. Behold the Man! Behold the Man enduring shame and contempt, set forth as a spectacle of mockery, that He might be presented at last in glory, and honored before angels and the Father. Behold the Man, reviled - yet reviling not again; hated - but still loving on; cruelly wronged - but speaking no resentful word. Behold the Man, the God-Man, wearing humanity, the Son of God humbling Himself and becoming obedient unto shame and death - that He might save our souls! Behold the Man, holy, sinless, undefiled, separate from sinners - yet bearing upon His own head as the Lamb of God, the sin of the world.

The only righteous thing for a just judge to do when he finds his prisoner innocent - is to set him free. Pilate brought Jesus out to the people - but said plainly, "I find no fault in Him." Nobody could. Nobody ever did. The rulers tried zealously enough to find something that they use as a pretext - but they found nothing. They tried false witnesses - but even these could not agree in their witnessing. Now the keen Roman judge inquires into His character, into His life, into His motives - but finds nothing against Him. No other man has lived in whom no fault could be found. The holiest men have sinned. But Jesus was absolutely sinless. Why then did He suffer as a sinner? We know well the answer. They were our sins that they laid upon Him. "Christ has redeemed us from the curse of the law, being made a curse for us" (Galatians 3:13). Christ also has suffered once for sins, "the just for the unjust, that he might bring us to God." "Who His own self bore our sins in His own body on the tree."

We never should forget this. In these days perhaps there is a tendency to forget the sacrifice of Christ, in thinking of His salvation. Between us in our curse and our blessing - stands the cross of our Savior. He was wounded for our transgressions and bruised for our iniquities. Let us praise the grace that took our sins, that we may stand whiter than snow before the throne of judgment!

The silences of Jesus are always as significant as His words. He was silent to Pilate. He understood Pilate's weak insincerity. Pilate had had opportunity enough to do the right thing for Jesus - but he had thrown away His opportunity. Now Jesus would answer no more of His questions. One lesson we must get from this silence - is that if we reject Christ's offer of mercy and grace over and over, the time may come, will come, when Christ will be silent to us. And of all calamities that can possibly ever come to any soul - none could be so great as that Christ should be silent to its prayers. "Then shall they call upon me - but I will not answer; they shall seek me early - but they shall not find me" (Proverbs 1:28).

Another lesson we may learn from Christ's example, is that there come times in all our lives, when silence is better than speech. Often to words of reviling or to insult - silence is the only true Christian answer. To many of the assaults of skeptics on our religion and on our Lord - it is better that we remain silent than that we speak. There is a time to speak boldly and without fear in the presence of Christ's enemies - Christ did speak several times in reply to Pilate - but there are also times when we should keep silence, attempting no answer.

Pilate tried to compel Jesus to answer him. "Don't you realize I have power either to free you or to crucify you?" The answer of Jesus is very clear. "You would have no power over me - if it were not given to you from above." No man's power belongs to himself, to do with as he pleases; it is given him from God, the Source of all power. This is true of the authority of parents and teachers, and of the power possessed by civil magistrates. Men are eager to obtain positions of power, and they do not always realize the responsibility which is attached to such positions. Power belongs to God, and must be used for God, or its misuse will bring its sore penalty. It is a talent which is given to us to be accounted for, and no treason is worse than malfeasance in the employing of power. This is true all the way from the power of the child on the playground or in the home, up to the power of the president of the nation or of the king on His throne. "You would have no power over me - if it were not given to you from above."

There is another sweet thought suggested by the words "against me" in this sentence. Christ in this world was under the protection of His Father, and no one on earth could lift a finger against Him but by the Father's divine permission. What was true of Him, the Son of God, is true of each one of the sons of God in all their earthly life. Each believer, the humblest, the weakest, is kept in this world as the apple of God's eye. No one can lift a finger to touch one of God's little ones, except by divine permission. This shows how secure we are, amid all the world's dangers and enmities, while we trust ourselves, like little children, in our Father's keeping.

When Pilate ceased His weak efforts to have Jesus released, saying to the rulers, "Behold Your King!" they cried out, "Away with him, crucify him!" Thus they finally rejected their Messiah. We read at the beginning of John's gospel that "He came unto His own - and His own received him not" (1:11 ). The whole story of His life was an illustration of this rejection of Him. Wherever He went they received Him not. Here and there a home opened its doors to Him, and now and then there was a devout heart that made hospitality for Him - but these receptions were so few that they could easily be counted. Crowds of the common people thronged after Him, and many heard Him gladly - but very few became His true disciples. Even on Palm Sunday, five days before He died, there was a vast multitude to cry, "Hosanna!" and wave palm branches; but soon the palms lay withered in the streets, and on Friday only cries of "Crucify him!" were heard in the air. "He came unto His own - and His own received Him not."

It is the saddest event in all history, this coming of the Son of God to this earth, bearing in His hands all divine and heavenly blessings - but finding only shut doors and shut hearts, being compelled to take away His gifts because men would not receive them. We read this old story and wonder how His own people could have treated Him so; yet how is it with us? Do we treat Him any better? We do not cry, "Crucify him!" but we shut the doors of our hearts in His face and keep Him out. We reject and refuse His gifts which He comes all the way from heaven to bring to us. We may not with angry voice exclaim, "Away with him!" but in our hearts many of us do keep Him away.

The struggle had ceased, and "Pilate delivered him therefore unto them to be crucified." He first tried every way to avoid the issue; then he temporized, hoping in some way to evade the responsibility. At least he yielded, and his name goes down through history pilloried forever, as the man who delivered Jesus to be crucified, knowing and confessing that He was free from any crime. He was known in the world by no other act. Surely it is an unenviable notoriety. It had been a thousand times better for him if he had never been horn, or if he had remained forever in quiet obscurity, instead of going to that high place of power in the land, in which he had to meet and deal with this most monentous question of history.

We read in one of the Gospels that Pilate took water in the presence of the people and washed his hands, thus by symbol declaring that he was not responsible for the sentencing of Jesus to die. But the water did not wash away one particle of the stain of the guilt of that terrible sin! Pilate had the misfortune to be the only man in all the province who could send Jesus to the cross. Upon him, therefore, the final responsibility rested, no matter the pressure that was brought to bear upon him by the enemies of Jesus.

Just so, the fact that others urge us to sin - does not take away our guilt for that sin. No being in the universe can compel us to do wrong; if, then, we do wrong - the sin is our own. True, Jesus said there was one other whose guilt was even greater than Pilate's - that was the high priest. His sin was not only that he himself was determined to do wrong - but that he dragged others with him. We remember that the rulers replied to Pilate's act of washing his hands, "His blood be on us and on our children!" (Matthew 27:25). No one who has read the story of the next forty years can doubt that this self-imprecation was fulfilled. Forty years later, thousands of the people were scourged and crucified. The crime of the rulers was successful - but what came of the success in the end? Let us learn that sin brings always terrible woe, and that the worst of all sin - is sin against the Lord Jesus Christ.

#J.R. Miller #Devotional Hours Within the Bible #John 19:1-16 #Pilate Sentencing Jesus #September 20 #2021

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suzey8888 · 3 years ago

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“I cannot tell you that Hitler took Austria by tanks and guns; it would distort history. If you remember the plot of the Sound of Music, the Von Trapp family escaped over the Alps rather than submit to the Nazis. Kitty wasn’t so lucky. Her family chose to stay in her native Austria. She was 10 years old, but bright and aware. And she was watching. “We elected him by a landslide – 98 percent of the vote,” she recalls. She wasn’t old enough to vote in 1938 – approaching her 11th birthday. But she remembers. “Everyone thinks that Hitler just rolled in with his tanks and took Austria by force.” No so. Hitler is welcomed to Austria “In 1938, Austria was in deep Depression. Nearly one-third of our workforce was unemployed. We had 25 percent inflation and 25 percent bank loan interest rates. Farmers and business people were declaring bankruptcy daily. Young people were going from house to house begging for food. Not that they didn’t want to work; there simply weren’t any jobs. “My mother was a Christian woman and believed in helping people in need. Every day we cooked a big kettle of soup and baked bread to feed those poor, hungry people – about 30 daily.’ “We looked to our neighbor on the north, Germany, where Hitler had been in power since 1933.” she recalls. “We had been told that they didn’t have unemployment or crime, and they had a high standard of living. “Nothing was ever said about persecution of any group – Jewish or otherwise. We were led to believe that everyone in Germany was happy. We wanted the same way of life in Austria. We were promised that a vote for Hitler would mean the end of unemployment and help for the family. Hitler also said that businesses would be assisted, and farmers would get their farms back. “Ninety-eight percent of the population voted to annex Austria to Germany and have Hitler for our ruler. “We were overjoyed,” remembers Kitty, “and for three days we danced in the streets and had candlelight parades. The new government opened up big field kitchens and everyone was fed. “After the election, German officials were appointed, and, like a miracle, we suddenly had law and order. Three or four weeks later, everyone was employed. The government made sure that a lot of work was created through the Public Work Service. “Hitler decided we should have equal rights for women. Before this, it was a custom that married Austrian women did not work outside the home. An able-bodied husband would be looked down on if he couldn’t support his family. Many women in the teaching profession were elated that they could retain the jobs they previously had been required to give up for marriage. “Then we lost religious education for kids “Our education was nationalized. I attended a very good public school.. The population was predominantly Catholic, so we had religion in our schools. The day we elected Hitler (March 13, 1938), I walked into my schoolroom to find the crucifix replaced by Hitler’s picture hanging next to a Nazi flag. Our teacher, a very devout woman, stood up and told the class we wouldn’t pray or have religion anymore. Instead, we sang ‘Deutschland, Deutschland, Uber Alles,’ and had physical education. “Sunday became National Youth Day with compulsory attendance. Parents were not pleased about the sudden change in curriculum. They were told that if they did not send us, they would receive a stiff letter of warning the first time. The second time they would be fined the equivalent of $300, and the third time they would be subject to jail.” And then things got worse. “The first two hours consisted of political indoctrination. The rest of the day we had sports. As time went along, we loved it. Oh, we had so much fun and got our sports equipment free. “We would go home and gleefully tell our parents about the wonderful time we had. “My mother was very unhappy,” remembers Kitty. “When the next term started, she took me out of public school and put me in a convent. I told her she couldn’t do that and she told me that someday when I grew up, I would be grateful. There was a very good curriculum, but hardly

any fun – no sports, and no political indoctrination. “I hated it at first but felt I could tolerate it. Every once in a while, on holidays, I went home. I would go back to my old friends and ask what was going on and what they were doing. “Their loose lifestyle was very alarming to me. They lived without religion. By that time, unwed mothers were glorified for having a baby for Hitler. “It seemed strange to me that our society changed so suddenly. As time went along, I realized what a great deed my mother did so that I wasn’t exposed to that kind of humanistic philosophy. “In 1939, the war started, and a food bank was established. All food was rationed and could only be purchased using food stamps. At the same time, a full-employment law was passed which meant if you didn’t work, you didn’t get a ration card, and, if you didn’t have a card, you starved to death. “Women who stayed home to raise their families didn’t have any marketable skills and often had to take jobs more suited for men. “Soon after this, the draft was implemented. “It was compulsory for young people, male and female, to give one year to the labor corps,” remembers Kitty. “During the day, the girls worked on the farms, and at night they returned to their barracks for military training just like the boys. “They were trained to be anti-aircraft gunners and participated in the signal corps. After the labor corps, they were not discharged but were used in the front lines. “When I go back to Austria to visit my family and friends, most of these women are emotional cripples because they just were not equipped to handle the horrors of combat. “Three months before I turned 18, I was severely injured in an air raid attack. I nearly had a leg amputated, so I was spared having to go into the labor corps and into military service. “When the mothers had to go out into the work force, the government immediately established child care centers. “You could take your children ages four weeks old to school age and leave them there around-the-clock, seven days a week, under the total care of the government. “The state raised a whole generation of children. There were no motherly women to take care of the children, just people highly trained in child psychology. By this time, no one talked about equal rights. We knew we had been had. “Before Hitler, we had very good medical care. Many American doctors trained at the University of Vienna.. “After Hitler, health care was socialized, free for everyone. Doctors were salaried by the government. The problem was, since it was free, the people were going to the doctors for everything. “When the good doctor arrived at his office at 8 a.m., 40 people were already waiting and, at the same time, the hospitals were full. “If you needed elective surgery, you had to wait a year or two for your turn. There was no money for research as it was poured into socialized medicine. Research at the medical schools literally stopped, so the best doctors left Austria and emigrated to other countries. “As for healthcare, our tax rates went up to 80 percent of our income. Newlyweds immediately received a $1,000 loan from the government to establish a household. We had big programs for families. “All day care and education were free. High schools were taken over by the government and college tuition was subsidized. Everyone was entitled to free handouts, such as food stamps, clothing, and housing. “We had another agency designed to monitor business. My brother-in-law owned a restaurant that had square tables. “Government officials told him he had to replace them with round tables because people might bump themselves on the corners. Then they said he had to have additional bathroom facilities. It was just a small dairy business with a snack bar. He couldn’t meet all the demands. “Soon, he went out of business. If the government owned the large businesses and not many small ones existed, it could be in control. “We had consumer protection, too “We were told how to shop and what to buy. Free enterprise was essentially abolished. We had a planning agency

specially designed for farmers. The agents would go to the farms, count the livestock, and then tell the farmers what to produce, and how to produce it. “In 1944, I was a student teacher in a small village in the Alps. The villagers were surrounded by mountain passes which, in the winter, were closed off with snow, causing people to be isolated. “So people intermarried and offspring were sometimes retarded. When I arrived, I was told there were 15 mentally retarded adults, but they were all useful and did good manual work. “I knew one, named Vincent, very well. He was a janitor of the school. One day I looked out the window and saw Vincent and others getting into a van. “I asked my superior where they were going. She said to an institution where the State Health Department would teach them a trade, and to read and write. The families were required to sign papers with a little clause that they could not visit for 6 months. “They were told visits would interfere with the program and might cause homesickness. “As time passed, letters started to dribble back saying these people died a natural, merciful death. The villagers were not fooled. We suspected what was happening. Those people left in excellent physical health and all died within 6 months. We called this euthanasia. “Next came gun registration. People were getting injured by guns. Hitler said that the real way to catch criminals (we still had a few) was by matching serial numbers on guns. Most citizens were law-abiding and dutifully marched to the police station to register their firearms. Not long afterwards, the police said that it was best for everyone to turn in their guns. The authorities already knew who had them, so it was futile not to comply voluntarily. “No more freedom of speech. Anyone who said something against the government was taken away. We knew many people who were arrested, not only Jews, but also priests and ministers who spoke up. “Totalitarianism didn’t come quickly, it took 5 years from 1938 until 1943, to realize full dictatorship in Austria. Had it happened overnight, my countrymen would have fought to the last breath. Instead, we had creeping gradualism. Now, our only weapons were broom handles. The whole idea sounds almost unbelievable that the state, little by little eroded our freedom.” “This is my eyewitness account. “It’s true. Those of us who sailed past the Statue of Liberty came to a country of unbelievable freedom and opportunity. “America is truly is the greatest country in the world. “Don’t let freedom slip away. “After America, there is no place to go.” Kitty Werthmann ***Re-read the part where she says “everything was free” - healthcare and so on. Very much worth reading twice.****

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newstfionline · 4 years ago

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Tuesday, February 2, 2021

Difficult Times for Flight Attendants (NYT) One flight attendant needed medical attention for a crippling migraine brought on by confronting a passenger who refused to wear a mask. Aviation safety officials have received dozens of confidential complaints in the past year from attendants trying to enforce mask safety rules. The reports, filed in the Aviation Safety Reporting System database, at times describe a chaotic, unhinged workplace where passengers regularly abuse airline employees. The coronavirus pandemic and political divisions of the past year have caused fear, economic pain, and social and family rifts around the country, but for airline workers, and flight attendants in particular, the unease and tension have often converged in a tiny cabin space. The tension is at a level flight attendants have not seen before, said Paul Hartshorn Jr., a veteran attendant and a spokesman for the Association of Professional Flight Attendants union. “I think we’re pretty well trained on how to handle a disruptive passenger,” said Mr. Hartshorn, 46. “What we’re not trained to do and what we shouldn’t be dealing with is large groups of passengers inciting a riot with another group of passengers [over political differences].” “It’s insane,” he added.

Fight The Man: What GameStop’s surge says about online mobs (AP) It’s a fable for our times: Small-time investors band together to take down greedy Wall Street hedge funds using the stock of a troubled video-game store. But the revolt of online stock-traders suggests much more. The internet is shifting society’s balance of power in unanticipated ways. In the world of pseudonymous internet message boards, pranks-gone-wild and logic turned upside down amid a global pandemic, revolts come in all shapes, sizes and aims. Last week they gave us the Great GameStop Stock Uprising. Who knows what this week will bring. “The internet can democratize access, upsetting power dynamics between the people and traditional institutions,” tweeted Tiffany C. Li, a law professor and tech attorney focusing on privacy and technology platform governance. With GameStop, she added in an interview Friday, the goal was to upset the interests of a few large hedge funds. “But in other places the goal can be more nefarious. Online spaces are being used to radicalize people toward extremism, to plan hate crimes and attacks,” she said. “The internet isn’t really the villain or the hero.”

Pandemic Pushes More Parents to Go All-In for Home Schooling (WSJ) As parents grow increasingly frustrated with remote learning during the pandemic, some are deciding to pull their children out of school and try teaching on their own. In North Carolina, the state’s home-school monitoring website crashed on the first day of enrollment, and more than 18,800 families filed to operate a home-school from July 1 to Jan. 22—more than double the school-year before, according to the state Division of Non-Public Education. In Connecticut, the number of students who left public schools to be home-schooled jumped fivefold this school year, to 3,500. In Nebraska, the number of home-schooled students jumped 56%, to 13,426, according to state education officials. “The vast majority [of parents] are saying, ‘We’ve been really trying to do what the schools are asking us to do, but we just can’t do this anymore,’ “ said J. Allen Weston, executive director of the National Home School Association, which has been fielding inquiries on the topic. Vanderbilt University’s Joseph Murphy, who studies home schooling, said “We are in a major shift from how we thought about teaching children and running schools for 100 years. Parents have shifted to the place where they feel they need more direct involvement and greater responsibility for what happens with their children.”

Vaccine skepticism lurks in town famous for syphilis study (AP) Lucenia Dunn spent the early days of the coronavirus pandemic encouraging people to wear masks and keep a safe distance from each other in Tuskegee, a mostly Black city where the government once used unsuspecting African American men as guinea pigs in a study of a sexually transmitted disease. Now, the onetime mayor of the town immortalized as the home of the infamous “Tuskegee syphilis study” is wary of getting inoculated against COVID-19. Among other things, she’s suspicious of the government promoting a vaccine that was developed in record time when it can’t seem to conduct adequate virus testing or consistently provide quality rural health care. “I’m not doing this vaccine right now. That doesn’t mean I’m never going to do it. But I know enough to withhold getting it until we see all that is involved,” said Dunn, who is Black. The coronavirus immunization campaign is off to a shaky start in Tuskegee and other parts of Macon County. Area leaders point to a resistance among residents spurred by a distrust of government promises and decades of failed health programs. Tuskegee is not a complete outlier. A recent survey conducted by the communications firm Edelman revealed that as of November, only 59% of people in the U.S. were willing to get vaccinated within a year with just 33% happy to do so as soon as possible. Health experts have stressed both the vaccines’ safety and efficacy.

As Biden prays for healing, Catholics clash over president’s faith (GMA) On his quest to heal a divided America, Joe Biden may first have to confront bitter division over his presidency from within his own church. Since his inauguration two weeks ago as the nation’s second Catholic president, Biden’s devout Christian faith has become a new flashpoint within the church. While millions of Catholics have celebrated the ascension of one of their own to the White House, some have been publicly questioning whether Biden should be considered a model of their faith. Many Catholic clergy and faithful are passionately fixated on Biden’s support for abortion rights, which the church staunchly opposes and considers an issue of “preeminent” importance. Biden opposes abortion as a personal matter, but wrote in his 2007 memoir that he doesn’t “have a right to impose my view on the rest of society.” One in five Americans identifies as Roman Catholic, the largest Christian denomination in the U.S., according to Pew Research Center. While the faithful have long been divided in matters of theology and politics, Catholic values aren’t exclusively red or blue.

Russia Protesters Defy Vast Police Operation as Signs of Kremlin Anxiety Mount (NYT) The Kremlin mounted Russia’s most fearsome nationwide police operation in recent memory on Sunday, seeking to overwhelm a protest movement backing the jailed opposition leader Aleksei A. Navalny that swept across the country for a second weekend in a row. But the show of force—including closed subway stations, thousands of arrests and often brutal tactics—failed to smother the unrest. By late Sunday evening in Moscow, more than 5,000 people had been detained in at least 85 cities across Russia, an activist group reported, though many were later released. Previously unseen numbers of riot police officers in black helmets, camouflage and body armor essentially locked down the center of the metropolis of 13 million people, stopping passers-by miles from the protest to check their documents and ask what they were doing outside. “I don’t understand what they’re afraid of,” a protester named Anastasia Kuzmina, a 25-year-old account manager at an advertising agency, said of the police. Referring to the peak year of Stalin’s mass repression, she added, “It’s like we’re slipping into 1937.” The large-scale police response signaled anxiety in the Kremlin over Mr. Navalny’s ability to unite Russia’s disparate critics of President Vladimir V. Putin, from nationalists to liberals to many with no particular ideology at all.

In Myanmar coup, Suu Kyi’s ouster heralds return to military rule (Washington Post) Aung San Suu Kyi defended Myanmar’s generals against genocide charges at The Hague. She praised soldiers as they unleashed artillery against ethnic minority settlements. She took only modest steps toward democratic changes that would chip away at the army’s political power. It wasn’t enough. On Monday, Myanmar’s military seized power in a coup, detaining Suu Kyi, elected ministers from her National League for Democracy (NLD) party and others in a predawn raid. Though condemned internationally for defending the military and its campaign against the Rohingya minority, the Nobel Peace Prize laureate who spent 15 years under house arrest until 2010 now finds herself again at the generals’ mercy. The coup underscored the fragility of Myanmar’s decade-old, quasi-democratic transition that many assumed, despite imperfections, would continue with Suu Kyi as head of the civilian government and still-entrenched powers for the military, led by Min Aung Hlaing. But the military was never comfortable with its enduring unpopularity and Suu Kyi’s godlike status among ordinary Burmese, analysts said, despite its role in engineering the country’s opening after half a century of isolationist rule.

Survivors of Beirut’s explosion endure psychological scars (AP) Joana Dagher lay unconscious and hemorrhaging under a pile of rubble in her apartment after the massive Beirut port blast in August, on the brink of death. She survived because of the courage of her husband who got her out, the kindness of a stranger who transported her in his damaged car and the help of her sisters during the chaos at the overwhelmed hospital. But Dagher doesn’t remember any of that: The 33-year-old mother of two lost her memory for two full months from the trauma she suffered in the explosion, including a cerebral contusion and brain lesions. “I lost my life on August 4,” Dagher said. “I lost my house, I lost my memory, I lost two friends,” she added, referring to neighbors killed in the explosion. “I lost my mental health, and so I lost everything.” The Beirut explosion, which killed more than 200 people and injured more than 6,000, caused wounds on an even wider scale on the mental health of those who lived through it. Even in a country that has seen many wars and bombings, never had so many people—tens of thousands—directly experienced the same traumatizing event at the same time. It came on top of the stress that Lebanese were already feeling from multiple crises, including an unprecedented economic meltdown, the coronavirus pandemic and a feeling of helplessness after nationwide protests against corruption that failed to achieve their goals. “There are very high levels of anxiety and worry across the population,” said Mia Atwi, psychologist and president of Embrace, an organization working on mental health awareness and support. “There is a low mood bordering on clinical depression for the majority of the population.”

#headlines #news

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airyravenmaid · 5 years ago

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V3 Talentswap AU

Self-control who, don’t know her

I’ve been doing a little collaboration with my dear friend @dreamydiamond putting together a full-on Talentswap for the V3 peeps bc everyone likes different talent AU’s, don’t they? At this moment in time, there is no exact designated protag/deuterag/antag-rival/Mastermind bc it’s literally just been fun old brainstorming, but here are some brief, general descriptions of what’s what under the cut.

Ultimate Pianist - Toujou Kirumi: Enjoys making others happy with her music and will play (almost) any song asked of her, though she seems to have an unspoken preference towards softer tempo songs. Open to learning as many different kinds of songs as possible from her beliefs of music being the number one thing to soothe even the savagest of beasts. Took over piano from her mentor who suffered a serious hand injury and was left unable to play any longer, also prompting her to wear gloves in case she ever went through the same fate.

Ultimate Detective - Shinguuji Korekiyo: (NOT A FUGGING SERIAL KILLER HERE; THIS IS A HOUSE OF CHRIST) Dedicated primarily to his work that will someday make him a full-fledged sleuth without his parents’ aid. Gained notoriety as a sleuth following a domestic abuse case ending with the arrest of his (now disowned) elder sister, but wasn’t able to leave without the trauma that came with it. As a result, he’s rather apprehensive when it comes to non-platonic relationships and prefers to direct as much of his focus away from them as possible.

Ultimate Astronaut - Ouma Kokichi: A misanthropic astronaut-in-training with one goal in mind: conquering the galaxy and destroying the planet with nary a drop of mercy for anyone else. Believes he’s higher and mightier than any “Earthling scum” and will gladly show so, using contradictions and fibs to hide what well may be his true self buried underneath. Nonetheless, he seems interested in seeing if there are any “rare ones” that could somehow prove to be worth his time, but severely doubts he could be stood corrected. Could he?

Ultimate Magician - Harukawa Maki: The self-proclaimed master of the arcana and dark arts, she often secludes herself from others in order to perfect her spells and concoctions, believing non-magical creatures may “curse” her and leave her efforts for naught. Having used to do magic shows before growing to hate them and quitting, she also seems to be a reluctant hit with children despite the frigid, unfriendly exterior she gives at first glance. Warns people that magic isn’t a toy or show gag, but is very seldom heeded and brushed off as “crazy”.

Ultimate Aikido Master - Saihara Shuichi: Initially bullied to no end by his peers, he sought martial arts as his way out after taking advice from his beloved uncle and developed an adequate way to defend himself. Because of this, he’s highly disciplined and doesn’t believe something as sacred as aikido should be used for any other reason. Being easily startled, it’s not wise to try and sneak up on or spook him; you will get tossed at best and en route to the hospital for broken ribs at worst as a result.

Ultimate Child Caregiver/Assassin - Akamatsu Kaede: Started out as a simple daycare assistant that’s a born natural with children, but was later taken by a mysterious organization and brainwashed using a sleeper code to test her capabilities. Following her first kill that she doesn’t remember, she was then actively trained into a killer-for-hire, which she’s done everything in her power to keep a secret from the children and everyone else. Some say that uttering her old code will temporarily re-activate her deadly trance, but that’s just a silly rumor! ...Right?

Ultimate Cosplayer - Yumeno Himiko: A longtime lover of the magical girl genre that fell in love with their colorful designs and longed to recreate their outfits for her own to don. Had gotten her first taste of sewing work from having to patch up holes in her clothes and others, which eventually grew with modifying her school uniforms to fit her smaller stature and paved the path to cosplay. Sets up stands at conventions that sell cosplay outfits and wigs for a “reasonable” (to her, at least) price, if only to make up for being terrible at delivering adequate fanart of her favorite mahou shoujou anime shows.

Ultimate Robot - 10-K0, aka “Tenko”: A fully functional android programmed with an intense dislike of robophobes and “degenerate males” created by the esteemed Professor Chabashira (who is also male, but she greatly reveres him and the contradiction hasn’t clicked yet). Has a great sense of empathy and can get a good reading on someone using a simple scan, and despite not being entirely invincible, will serve as a protector for any fair maiden that needs her.

Ultimate Entomologist - Iidabashi Kiibo: More in-tuned to befriend bugs than people as a result of (and resulting in) being harassed by other children over the years, but managed to not let his heart turn bitter from it nonetheless. The son of a biologist father, he grew to discover his own research with arachnids and insects to learn the lifestyles of such small creatures that play such a big role in everyday life. Though he loves his bugs, he also seems to yearn for a human friend to call his own that actually accepts him and his “bizarre” interests.

Ultimate Artist - Gokuhara Gonta: Lost in the woods from an early age, he fell in love with nature and sought to find a way of immortalizing it to its fullest potential. His large size and massive strength make him best at creating sculptures, but his unexpectedly gentle hands are what helps convey his muse through paintings and sketches. Still an aspiring gentleman that hopes to show his sophisticated works to the world, but is also prone to aggressive outbursts when faced with intense enough artist’s block and seeing his art be disrespected.

Ultimate ??? - Hoshi Ryouma: Doesn’t remember too much about his talent or past life save for vague flashes hinting towards it, which he’s only gathered that he’d done something atrocious to warrant being on the lam and sent running to too many places all over the globe. In spite of his amnesia, it seems he doesn’t care if he never gets those memories back if the implied crimes were too horrible to recall in the first place.

Ultimate Inventor - Amami Rantaro: Shown a gift for tinkering at a young age, though was initially apprehensive with making it too big of a deal and making it his primary living in life until he came to enjoy doing so over time. Makes small gadgets for his younger sisters and larger, more complex gadgets that would be beneficial to anyone even if technically in the “prototype” stage. Overall leans more towards making things that’d be useful and not just for fun, but if he trusts someone enough, he’ll likely be more up for bending that rule just a little.

Ultimate Anthropologist - Yonaga Angie: A devout traveler who’s been all over the globe following the word of different religions believing she is the vessel for every deity ever known. Personally prefers the word of her home island’s god, but beckons to all depending on their culture’s faith. Carefully studies humanity in seeing how vast they are in everyday life and primarily looks into their creation myths and pantheon.

Ultimate Supreme Leader - Shirogane Tsumugi: Claims to have been raised into the line of succession for a dangerous organization she believes will bring the downfall of man itself if crossed too much. Wonders how such a “plain” girl such as herself wound up in such a position of power and blames it solely on good luck, but isn’t complaining much otherwise. The day she’s in charge is the day she plans on making the best she’s ever lived.

Ultimate Tennis Pro - Momota Kaito: The unlikely “Shining Star of the Court” that’s come a long way in conquering tennis leagues from all over the nation, but seems to be hiding something he fears will hinder his athleticism. Advocates for keeping a healthy lifestyle both in diet and physiology, and aims to train as hard as he can to stay almost invincible in the face of difficulty. Won’t hold back during a game, but wants his opponents to have as fair of a shot as possible against him if they intend to win.

Ultimate Maid - Iruma Miu: Started from a poorer background and needed to find a way to make a better living for herself, so what better way than putting her “natural good looks” to great use? Is very good at what she does, but her inappropriate comments and nature makes everyone hesitant to trust things she’s prepared in addition to finding her “sexy maid” jokes too off-putting to laugh at. Thinks her skills are better than sliced bread and bellows how people should be thankful for needing her, but one mistake pops her bravado like a bubble and she crinkles at the slightest criticisms.

#New Dangan Ronpa V3 #Kirumi Tojo #Korekiyo Shinguji #Kokichi Ouma #Talentswap AU #V3 Talentswap #AUCanon #Putting it under the cut for length reasons #And so I can edit it anytime I please lmfao #I'm also more than willing to answer questions about this AU btw :3c

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loverandservantoftheahlulbayt · 22 days ago

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🍃🕊🍃 The Ka’aba, The House Of Allah (SWT)

Qur’an brought this story into the full light of history. In Sura 3:90 Qur’an says

“Allah has spoken the Truth, therefore follow the creed of Ibrahim (as), a man of pure faith and no idolater”.

“Truth hath come and falsehood hath vanished.” (17:81)

This was done in the 8th year of Hijra, January 630 AD after the bloodless victory at Makka by the Prophet (S) of Islam.

Just outside are the Hills called Safa and Merwa and the distance between the hills is about 500 yards. These days both of the hills are enclosed into the sanctuary walls with a roof over it.

On the outskirts of the building to the North East is the ‘Zamzam Well’ (this is now put under ground).

🍃🕊🍃 History of the building of the Ka’aba

“Turn then thy face towards the sacred mosque and wherever ye be turn your faces towards that part ” (2: 139-144)

🍃🕊🍃 www.shiavault.com 🍃🕊🍃

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