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vdlest · 3 years

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Definition of Heaven

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Husband!Bucky Barnes x Wife!Reader

Summary:

You found out you were pregnant with Bucky's baby when the blip took place. You keep the baby and raised him by yourself. You have always believed that Bucky will come back to you and your son, Gabriel. Five years later, the Avengers won, Bucky came home to you and Gabriel.

Warning:

Fluff

For the past 5 years, it has always been just you, your son, Gabriel, and the rest of the Avengers like Nat and Steve. You found out you were pregnant with Bucky's child when the blip took place, and during that time, Bucky was in Wakanda and that's where he vanished in thin air just like everyone else who got snapped out because of the son of a bitch creature, Thanos.

It was Steve who told you that Bucky vanished as well, so you told him about your situation, about your pregnancy. He and Nat suggested that you stay with them in the compound to make sure your safe pregnancy and to help you as well throughout your journey to motherhood, which you happily agreed on. You stayed with them and they helped you a lot, they made your journey easier, however, the thought of Bucky is still in your mind and your heart. You always miss him, and you told yourself you'll always love him.

After nine months of nurturing and sheltering your baby inside you, you finally gave birth to a handsome healthy baby boy. When you saw your baby's blue eyes, you knew he got it from Bucky. You ended up naming him Gabriel, the name of your late grandfather who raised you after your parents died. Gabriel gave light to your darkness, not just to you but to everyone else like Nat and Steve. You did everything to raise him well, a strong and brave one, who's not afraid to do what is right and good. His first crawl, first step, first walk, first word, you witness them all, and you wished Bucky did too.

Five years later, Steve and Nat had a strong belief that they can actually bring everyone back but it's high-risk. With the help of the remaining avengers, Clint, Thor, Bruce, and the shrinking guy, Scott or he calls himself the Ant-man, they were able to retract all the infinity stones in the past, but like what was mentioned, it's high-risk. Nat risked her life to be able to get the soul stone. Losing her broke your heart, she's like a sister to you. But she's not the only avenger who fell, Tony Stark did too when he snapped his fingers to save everyone.

Despite the pain of losing two important people in your life, Bucky came home to you and your son. When he found out about Gabriel, he instantly kneeled in front of your son as he introduces himself as his father. You could still remember how Gabriel answered him, I know, I always see your picture on mom's locket. Then, your Gabriel opened his arms to give Bucky, his dad, a hug of a lifetime. You can't help but feel emotional while watching them meet each other. Bucky may not be able to see him for the past five years, you know, he would make it up to both of you, especially to Gabriel.

•••

The morning breeze embraces your body as you go out on your room's balcony to have your morning coffee. The two boys are still sleeping in the master's bedroom of the house that you and Bucky bought after the blip. Your view is the sun shining above the small village you are living in, just like how the sun shines on the world again after five years of darkness.

After Tony's funeral, everything happened so fast. You, Bucky, and Gabriel reunite as a family, just like everyone else did with theirs. Bucky did everything to make it up to you and Gabriel, he worked hard and you both finally had the means to move into your dream house and here you are now, living in the life you wanted for so long.

"Perfect view, isn't it?"

You turned around and saw Bucky about to join you on the balcony. He's wearing his white shirt and his favorite pajamas.

"Good morning," you greeted him, "I thought you are still asleep with Gabriel inside, I didn't want to wake you up. You two are like snoring machines," you joked.

He chuckled as he makes his way towards where you are standing.

You and Bucky were able to pick up where you left off everything before the blip. You two became inseparable after the blip, both of you are scared of losing one another again. You haven't talked about getting married yet but you are already happy and contented with the life you have right now, it's like you're living in heaven already beside your two angels.

As he comes closer to you, he grabs your mug and placed it on top of a table, afterwards, he put both of your hands around his neck and his hands are on your waist. You two almost look like dancing.

Being five years away from him was like living in hell, you always miss him and there were nights when you'll just cry yourself to sleep. But when Gabriel came into your life, you knew you had to be strong for both of you. You just silently hope that one day, Bucky will find his way home to you. And he did.

He stared at you, a smile on his face, "Did I ever say thank you to you?" he suddenly asked.

You frowned, "Thank you?" you chuckled, "For what?"

"For being the love of my life, for choosing me, for bringing Gabriel to our lives, for living this life with me," he put strands of hair at the back of your ear as he cups your cheeks, "Thank you for being so brave all these years. Thank you for not giving up on me. Thank you for loving me unconditionally," he said while staring at your eyes wistfully.

There he is again. Being sentimental about the time he lost and the time he could've been with you to support you.

He always feels so sorry for not being there for you when you found out that you're having a baby, for not being there when you're experiencing morning sickness, for not being by your side when you are screaming at the top of your lungs as you push Gabriel out of your womb. You understood his regrets but you have always believed that he may not be physically there, he is there with you, he's inside your heart.

"I could've been there for you when you found out that you're pre--"

You put your finger on top of his lips and shushed him, "Stop it, will you?" You removed your finger on his lips, moving your hands on both of his cheeks, "How many times do I have to tell you that you should stop saying those things? Bucky, we are here and you'll never lose us again. We'll never lose each other again," you vowed. "And you don't have to thank me for those reasons you mentioned because I did those things out of love, out of my love for you," you rested your forehead against his chin, "I did those things because I love you."

"And I love you too," he murmured, feeling his kiss on your forehead, "I love you and Gabriel more than my own life."

Bucky being a father to Gabriel is amazing. You could see his eagerness to make it up to him not just by giving him toys or any tangible things, but by giving him the attention, time, and love your son deserves. There were times you'd see him reading books about fatherhood and how to be a good father. You could really see his great effort to get to know fatherhood even more.

"Dad, Mom?"

You and Bucky slightly pulled away from each other as you both hear Gabriel behind the two of you.

"Hey, munchkin," you detach yourself from Bucky, as both of you make your way towards to doorframe where your son is standing in his pajamas. You and Bucky kneeled in front of your son, "Had a good sleep?" you asked him, fixing his messy brown hair.

"Yes, I had a good dream too!" Gabriel excitedly said, switching his eyes between you and Bucky.

Bucky pulled Gabriel in between the two of you, "Can you tell me and your mom about your dream?" he asked.

Gabriel nodded, still smiling from ear to ear, "I dreamed of seeing mommy in a beautiful white gown, and you're wearing a white suit, daddy," he said while excitement is still in his eyes. "I also saw Uncle Steve, Uncle Clint, Uncle Sam, Aunt Wanda, and the rest of your friends!" he added.

You and Bucky exchanged glances when you both heard what Gabriel's dream is about.

"What else did you see?" Bucky asked while his eyes are still looking at you.

"You and Mommy kissed," Gabriel continued then he sighed, "Then Daddy said he will take care of you forever, he will make you happy every single day."

You and Bucky kept on staring at each other while Gabriel is talking about his dream, that you two are getting married in his dream. The two of you haven't talked about getting married just yet, but Bucky already gave you his word and you have faith in him.

Gabriel went inside again to brush his teeth, leaving you and Bucky on the balcony again.

Bucky stood up and helped you next to stand up as well. He held both of your hands once you are both standing in front of each other.

"Our son's growing nonstop," Bucky reflected.

You nodded, "I know," you playfully pouted your lips, "Our baby is growing too fast."

"So what do you say about giving him a little sister or a little brother?" he teased you, then he planted a kiss on the back of your hand, "Or should we plan our wedding first?"

"Are you really sure this is what you want?" you asked him, your smile slowly fading away.

Bucky's brows furrowed, "What do you mean?" he seems puzzled. "What do you mean if I'm sure if this is what I want?" he added.

You took a deep breath, "Bucky, I just want to be sure you really want this whole thing, me as your wife, us as one family. Not that I don't trust you or I don't want you to, but I just want to make sure that I'm not forcing you to do this," you stuttered.

"Y/n, you're confusing me."

"Okay," you sighed, "Bucky, before the blip, we are together, right? It wasn't really our plan to have a baby, but it happened anyway. Gabriel is the biggest blessing for us, I just don't want you to think that you have an obligation to me, to marry me just because you have a baby with me. I want you to marry me for the right reason, not because I have your child." Your hand moved on top of his, "Bucky, I love you. You know that, right? But I don't want to pressure you into enteri--"

"Look, y/n," he said, stopping you from finishing your sentence, "I know this wasn't our original plan, this wasn't I had in my mind five years ago when I thought of us and our future, but I couldn't think of any best way of having a future with you. Before the blip, I kept on asking myself why I had to go through those pain all those years, and when I met you, I finally understood why. Those pain will bring me to you, my lightbringer. Now, I have more reason to let go of my past, I have you and Gabriel now. I have both of you as my family," he walked closer to you and cupped your face, "And don't think that I am marrying you as an obligation or what because it would be my pleasure and my honor to marry an amazing woman. I will marry you, not because you are the mother of my child but because I want you to be my wife, I want to see you every single time I wake up and before I go to sleep. I want to grow old with you and it may sound cliche as it is, it's true. I want to spend my life with you."

His words made your worries disappeared. His words made you believe that he's the guy who would make all your worries and doubts vanish in thin air.

"So I gonna ask you now," he let of your face and he removed his dog tags around his neck, "Will you marry me?"

It was a spontaneous proposal. He doesn't have a ring with him, but all he could offer and give you are his dog tags. It may not be the usual way of proposing to women, but you couldn't think of any best alternative for that one. Anyway, you like uniqueness.

You smiled at him, "Yes, I will marry you, James Buchanan Barnes."

Bucky pulled you towards him and kissed your forehead, "I love you," he said before kissing your lips next.

After he kissed you, he puts on his dog tags around your neck.

"I knew it will look more good on you," he said, staring at his dog tags on your neck.

You chuckled, "I love you, Bucky."

He pulled you towards him for a hug and you knew at that very moment, you have everything you'll ever gonna need in your life.

Having Bucky and your son, Gabriel by your side forever is your definition of heaven.

-v.dl

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagine #marvel #bucky barnes fluff

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the-ghost-king · 2 years

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I know other people have probably said it better but being a demigod is really about being handed the worst in both worlds.

For example the human body despite its adaptability is extremely fragile, to feel well you have to eat and drink regularly and this food has to be clean and fairly nutritional. You can't jump off of high places or slide on the ground or even punch something too hard. Also don't let anything attack you in the stomach while you face forward to fight it and protect your eyes and also don't stub your toe because it will hurt.

Now remember you are a god too though, so despite your human body you have the ability to do amazing things- you can travel the world in a split second, move oceans, move mountains, reshape your entire physical form. But remember, your father the sun means you can never sleep in, and you can part oceans but you can also be overwhelmed by your emotions and cause water to get stuck in your mother's throat- you might be able to turn anything into a competition and that's a fun game, but what happens when you are literally unable to not turn things into a competition.

You can hear the music in everything- everything, which means you can't stop counting the beats of every single thing all of the time forever and your head hurts now and you can't breathe because there is so much music in everything, and you hear all of it all at once. And you're just one person you can't possibly write all of this down, you can't compose the different sound of everyone's front door closing and opening or the music every tree makes because of the specific way that trees branches are shaped.

Or say you can feel the feelings of every plant, this is beautiful and amazing when you can focus on figuring out what every plant needs- but when you can't focus it, when you can feel millions of blades of grass and all the trees and flowers all at once. When you step onto a plot of land with some grass and weeds and you feel all the pain of being crushed and you want to cry but grass is everywhere you cannot be somewhere without plants growing on the ground.

Your the child of war and you walk into a room and you make everyone feel empowered and fearless- which is great on a battle field, but what about when your parents are arguing, or your friend wants to jump off a bridge and you think the bungee cord isn't high quality enough.

What happens when everyone falls in love with you, which might be great when you're trying to attract that girl in your chemistry class but I doubt it's as lovely when it's your teachers. Maybe the backlash of someone miraculously being unaffected by your pull would feel like the biggest pain in your life, because you've never learned how to deal with someone not liking you before (or maybe it causes the best love story ever, because this person likes you for you not because your magic... )

Being able to manipulate peoples dreams or interact with others from the comfort of your own bed is fun. Until you're asleep for 32 hours in a row. Until you have to bare witness to everyone else's nightmares, and all the senseless bloodshed and the very real fear that comes with them. Until you're living in a world you made in your own mind and you can't even comprehend reality anymore.

Also you can't eliminate these obstacles, you can't be free of them because you're a god and a mortal. This uncanny creature which was never really meant to exist (x3 if your dad's made a pact saying they would never have kids because all your siblings were extra uncanny and you are too).

#pjo

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freddieslater · 3 years

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Twelve Days of Rarepairs: Scydia/McMartin | Scott McCall x Lydia Martin (Teen Wolf)

Requested by @wonderdoves & anonymous

"This place is…"

Scott can't even think of a word. He just gazes ahead of them in wonder and awe. For miles, all he can see is snow. A thick white blanket of it covering the entire path ahead, the roads, the cobblestoned buildings, the trees—god, even the trees feel like something out of a fairytale, with long, twisting branches that have a dusting of snow themselves. And it's still going, trying to make them part of the scenery, too.

"You'd think you'd never seen snow before," Lydia teases.

"I haven't—not like this! California's snow is nothing compared to this."

Lydia just smiles, a certain fondness in her eyes. She squints up at the sky, her nose wrinkling slightly, their suitcases dragging along through the snow behind them as they continue their way from the ferry port. Something else that Scott is admittedly still in amazement over; he'd never actually been on a ferry before.

It's just a good thing that the snow stopped long enough for them to actually reach Ireland, or else they'd have still been holed up in their cabin, stuck somewhere in the middle of the sea. Not the worst scenario he can think of, to be fair. But he's glad, nonetheless, because this is so much better.

"I don't know," Lydia says. "I think I prefer the warm winters. I'm just hoping that Gran and Nana make their hot chocolate like they used to when I was younger, I'm telling you, it's the best thing ever."

Scott smiles, finally looking at Lydia as they come to a stop outside a two-storey, cobbled house with a gate around the garden. Her cheeks are flushed from the cold, her nose a pale pink. Snowflakes have clung to her green hat, along the shoulders of her matching green coat, and to her eyelashes. There's a gleam of pure excitement and joy beneath them as she stares at the house.

When she takes a deep breath, it returns like a puff of smoke. Scott gently squeezes her hand and holds it up in his own, bringing her gloved knuckles to his lips.

"You look nervous," he tells her softly.

"A little," Lydia says, nodding. "Only because I haven't been here since I was… nine? And there's so much to tell them. I mean, I know my mom filled them in on pretty much everything, but still."

Scott nods as well, saying, "I know. It's a lot. But it'll be okay."

"Yeah, of course," Lydia agrees. Her smile seems a little more confident as she gives another nod.

They walk through the gate, into the garden that Scott's now seeing is teeming with things; empty plant pots, kids toys, an overturned bicycle. Even the stones of the house are more interesting than he had initially realized, with bright murals painted across the whole front of the house.

As soon as they enter the house, the door closing behind them, they're hit with unexplainable warmth. And the shouting and giggling of kids that whiz past them, nearly knocking them off their feet.

"I forgot how loud it gets here," Lydia says, but she's laughing. Scott can see it in her eyes as she looks around the entrance hall, beautifully decorated with lengths of tinsel, and handcrafted baubles hanging from the ceiling.

Framed pictures line the walls up the stairs as far as he can. The closest one, hanging by the bottom of the stairs, has a familiar little girl, giving her biggest smile to the camera beside a young woman with a striking resemblance.

"Is this you?" Scott asks, his smile wide.

Lydia looks at the photo. "Oh god, yeah. I think that was when I was, like… six? I came up here every Christmas and New Year before my parents divorced. That's my gran."

"You look like her," Scott tells her, and he can hear the joyful skip of heart, hear it in her proud little hum of agreement.

"Well, maybe without some of the grey hair," a voice says from behind them.

They both turn around, and Lydia's face lights up. She's already squealing and dropping her suitcase and Scott's hand.

"Gran!" Lydia practically flies at her, hugging her tightly.

Her gran laughs, caught by surprise but only for a second, wrapping her up in her arms. "I've missed you too, Ariel!"

"Haven't heard that name in a while," someone else says, with a distinctively more Irish accent, but still holding the same fond, overjoyed tone.

Scott looks at the woman who appears at their side from the room behind Lydia and her gran. He recognizes her instantly from all the photos.

Maddy places a hand on Lorraine's shoulder as she and Lydia pull apart. Lydia looks on the verge of tears as she buries herself into Maddy's open embrace as well for a second, both laughing now.

"And you…" Lorraine looks over Scott with a smile and a gleam in her eyes. A certain kind of knowing. "... You're Scott McCall."

Scott returns her smile and nods. "I am. I've heard a lot about you, Mrs. Martin."

"Yeah, I know a thing or two about you as well," Lorraine tells him, and he knows.

He knows she isn't just talking about him and Lydia being together, but about everything. The deadpool. She knew who he was and what he was going to be before he even hit ten.

For a moment, his worries from the ferry come back. Not all supernatural creatures are a fan of each other, and with the destruction that werewolves have a history of causing, banshees can't be that fond of them. And especially with everything that's happened to Lydia.

But then her smile grows and she says, "I'm glad to finally meet you! And, please, call me Lorraine. This is my wife, Maddy."

"So, this is the little wolf that got your heart, huh?" Maddy jokes to Lydia, an arm around her shoulders.

Lydia looks at Scott. She bites her bottom lip through her smile, and her eyes are saying everything.

She nods and softly says, "Yeah. He is."

"Then you're more than welcome here," Lorraine says.

Relief starts to lift the weight off of Scott's shoulders and chest. The warm, welcoming atmosphere is hard to resist, and he's already feeling at home.

Lydia was right. The hot chocolate is one of the best things he's ever had. Creamy and overflowing with marshmallows with a candy cane to stir it around. Not to mention the plate of cookies. He has never had a gingerbread man that tastes this good.

It's already dark outside, the sun having set an hour or two after they arrived. They already changed into warmer, more comfortable clothes, and settled in front of the fireplace in the living room to get rid of the chill from the snow. Lorraine and Maddy insisted. Didn't want them getting sick, and ignoring their protests about not being able to actually get sick.

"Your cousins don't look like they're having a good time," Scott comments quietly, watching the half-asleep couple sitting in the corner.

"They have five kids, all under the age of ten," Lydia replies. "I think the only thing they can feel right now is exhausted."

Scott snorts. He looks around the room. He's met nearly everyone on this side of the family by now. Every cousin, second cousin, aunts, uncles. The kids that Lorraine and Maddy took in have been especially eager to meet him.

His attention is drawn back to the little boy sitting cross-legged in front of him. He's only nine.

Scott wasn't expecting it when Lorraine and Maddy told him that around ten years ago, another banshee had found them. She was only nineteen and had no one and no idea what was going on with her. They took her in, Lorraine helped her. And from then, it's like their home was its own supernatural beacon, but for kids who had nowhere else to go.

Sean, the little boy currently sneaking another gingerbread man from the plate, is a werewolf. His family, his pack, were hunted down when he was four. Lorraine felt it coming. She and Maddy found Sean.

There's a little yelp and Sean clutches his hand. Scott catches a glimpse of tiny claws where nails should be.

"Can I…?" he asks, holding out a hand.

Sean hesitates, but he glances at Lydia, who smiles and nods encouragingly, then back at Scott. He slowly gives him his hand, palm up.

"I don't know how to control it…" Sean mutters, looking down sheepishly.

Scott inspects where the small trickle of blood is coming from. Three little lines where his claws accidentally caught his skin in passing.

Shaking his head, Scott speaks gently, and draws on the pain in Sean's hand. "It's okay. You're still learning."

"Yeah, it's actually harder for born wolves," Lydia chimes in, nodding convincingly when Sean lifts his eyes to her with curiosity. "You'd think it was the other way around, but one of our friends—he was born a werewolf."

"And he didn't learn until he was sixteen," Scott tells him. "It just takes time."

"And knowing what keeps you grounded," Lydia adds. "Your anchor."

Sean looks at Scott. "Do you have an anchor?"

Scott nods. "I do. I had to learn to let me be my own anchor, but when that doesn't work for me, I focus on all the people I love. My mom, my best friend, my pack."

He glances at Lydia only to find her already gazing at him with the softest smile, her cheek leaning against her shoulder. She places a kiss to his shoulder, her hand resting on her arm for a second.

"You just need to find something that makes you feel more in control," Scott finishes, turning back to Sean. "Even if it's an emotion."

Sean nods slowly. His expression is one of deep thought, trying to work to figure out what his own anchor could be.

"Now, you should go clean this up," Scott says. "Just run it under warm water with some soap, okay? It might sting a little, but just ask Lorraine or Maddy if they have any antibiotic cream, and then put a bandage on it."

"Are you a doctor?" Sean asks.

"No," Scott can't help but grin as he says, "I'm just a vet."

That answer only seems to confuse Sean. But he gets up and hurries off to go do what Scott instructed.

When Scott turns back, Lydia's still watching him. She has this look on her face, a thoughtful glaze in her eyes and a certain kind of smile that he can't read.

Chuckling, Scott asks, "What is it?"

She lets a beat pass. She shakes her head, takes a slow breath in, then looks over at the window instead.

"It's still snowing. Do you wanna sit in the garden? There's a nice bench out back."

Scott's eyebrows furrow a little, but he stands with her, following her to the back door from the kitchen. Stepping outside is like what he'd imagine stepping into a walk-in freezer would feel like.

But the cold biting at his skin is unimportant. The awe hits him all over again as he takes in the sight of the garden, feeling like he just stepped into a fairytale instead. Everywhere he looks, everything is white and sparkling. From the entire ground, to the gazebo at the end of the garden.

Somehow, in amidst it all, there are flowers. Whole roses and everything, snow dusting across their dark red petals.

"This is…" Scott breathes out, his eyes wide, "... I don't even know what this is. This place doesn't feel real."

Lydia laughs gently. She wraps her arms around her and nods, looking around as the snow falls around them.

"Yeah, it does feel kind of… magical."

"We could actually make a snowman," Scott continues. "Or have a real snowball fight. Are snow angels things that people actually do?"

Lydia's eyebrows are raised when he looks back at her, and she's shaking her head. But she's got a smile that stretches to the corners of her eyes and he can feel emotions radiating off of her.

"You are so dorky." She moves closer, wrapping her arms around the back of his neck. "And I love you."

Scott smiles. His voice is soft and giving away all of the fondness he feels for her when he says, "And I love you."

She leans in, her head tilting. Her lips are soft against his. He pulls her a little closer, his arms wrapping around her waist. The cold and even the snow is easier to ignore.

Lydia pulls back, her hands lingering on his shoulders. Scott doesn't let go at all.

"I'm really glad you're here with me," Lydia tells him. "And my whole family now loves you, so that's a nice bonus. I think you even made a friend."

Scott grins, shrugging. "Your family is great, and I am… beyond relieved that they like me. And, I think with Sean, it's a werewolf thing."

"Oh, no." Lydia shakes her head firmly. "Maybe that's a small part of it, the whole Alpha thing and all, but all of the kids in there love you."

They pull apart. Lydia sits down on the bench. Scott follows, and can't help but start piling the snow from the arm of the bench into a ball in his hand.

"You were amazing with Sean," Lydia comments, glancing at him. She's doing the same thing with the snow on her side.

Scott shrugs again. "I just told him the same as I told Liam. And Alec. It's how I wish I could have been introduced to all of this. With someone reassuring me that it would be okay."

Lydia nods in a shared understanding. Neither of their starts in the supernatural word were exactly pleasant or comforting. Scott's only sorry that Lydia was brought into it the way she was.

She rests a hand on top of his, curling her fingers beneath his palm. She squeezes gently.

He knows that she can tell what he's thinking. Sometimes he worries that banshees have the ability to read minds as well. But the look she gives him and her hand there with his draws his thoughts away from the past. Everything is okay. It's better than okay.

"It's amazing what your gran and nana have done, though," Scott says. "Taking in supernatural kids who have nowhere else to go."

"Yeah, it's like a little foster home, but… for werewolves, banshees, and everything else," Lydia jokes, but her smile is sincere. "It's a really good thing they're doing. The kids are so happy here."

"I can see why," Scott says, gazing back out across the garden. The snow has the sky practically glowing, in no way looking like it's dark enough to be night.

There's a slight pressure against his hand from Lydia's fingers, moving slowly.

"Do you… do you think that's something you'd ever want to do?" Lydia asks, careful with her words.

Scott looks back at her. She's watching him again, with curious eyes. His heart drops many beats.

"Wait, are you—?" he starts to ask, but Lydia's eyes widen and she quickly shakes her head.

"No!" she hastens to answer. "No, I'm not! I just meant… you know, in general, is it—is it something that you can see for the future? Not necessarily the foster home part, but… you know."

She chews her bottom lip. Scott takes it in, letting the question process. After a moment, a smile curves the corners of his mouth up.

"Imagine, the first werewolf-banshee hybrid," he says.

"That can't have been done before," Lydia agrees, a laugh to her voice. "I wonder if one side would skip them, or if we'd be creating a whole new species."

Scott actually does laugh now, and Lydia joins him. His stomach is buzzing with butterflies or bees, he can't tell.

When they both go quiet, Scott slowly nods. He lifts his eyes to meet Lydia's.

"I like the sound of that," he says softly. "Whether it be a werewolf-banshee hybrid, or even an orphaned werewolf with nobody else… yeah. It's something I see for the future."

Lydia takes in a deep breath. She presses her lips together as her smile threatens to take over her entire face. She just nods, and breathes out slowly.

"Good to know," she says. "I do too, for the record."

"Okay, that's great," Scott says, grinning from ear to ear.

Lydia hums in agreement. Then the ball of snow that she'd been forming hits him square in the chest.

It's safe to say that it is freezing. The snow instantly seeps through his Christmas jumper, melting into his skin. He gasps while Lydia laughs behind her hands, hee eyes wide.

"You said you wanted a snowball fight…" she reminds him.

Scott nods. "You're absolutely right. I did."

The ball of snow in his own hand hits Lydia. She gasps, snow sticking to her jumper as well now.

"Oh my god, so cold!" she exclaims. "Why is that so cold?!"

"Because it's real snow," Scott says, his excitement quickly returning.

Lydia looks at him, her eyes narrowing. A familiar, competitive smirk forms on both their faces.

"Game on," she says.

Next second, they're trying to dodge out of the other's way, snowballs flying across the garden. There are gasps and shouts and laughter when they successfully land a shot.

Maybe it's a little unfair that Scott taps into his heightened abilities to move faster. But the advantage doesn't stop Lydia from managing to sneak up on him and tackle him into the snow. It's so deep that they sink a few inches into it, laughing until their sides and faces ache, and neither of them actually win, both claiming they did. But they end up just lying there in the freezing snow, curled into each other, staring up at the night sky.

#teen wolf #twedit #twrarepair #scydia #mcmartin #scott mccall #lydia martin #scott x lydia #lydia x scott #twelve days of rarepairs #rowing the rarepair rowboat #myedits*#wonderdoves #OKAY SO I LOVED WRITING THIS #you really let me just go for it with that prompt damn I love that thank you #and scott and lydia are like one of my favourite otps for teen wolf so once again THANK YOU so much for allowing to let them be soft #hope that you enjoy!!#also if any rarepairs are late at all over the next twelve days... no they aren't you can't see that

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mickmarstookmyheart · 3 years

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Life's a Sick Joke pt 16

Would like to start from the beginning? Here is Part 1!

Pairing: Mick Mars x Reader

A/N: Good morning/night/afternoon, you beautiful creatures! I know this story hasn't been really active recently but here you go the next chapter. There isn't much action in it, although it contains emotions and deep conversations. I hope you will like it. Stay safe, drink water and listen to music louder than hell!

16. Being There For You

After you got Mick from jail, which was pretty hilarious regarding that he never did anything to be in there, not even this time. He was at the wrong place, at the wrong time. He was still angry with you for not helping him immediately, but you let him fume a bit.

You were concentrated on something else. It was finally the day your brother would be out so you intended to get him, too. You seriously were tired of getting everyone out of jail. You were driving the car, staring at the road, your fingers drumming on the wheel along the music; Accept's Balls to the Wall was on and you couldn't help but silently sing along.

"I'm glad you have the energy to sing, but I couldn't sleep last night since someone let me rot in a fucking cell!" Mick snapped and you turned the music down. You took a long breath not to say anything you would regret.

"Mick, you only spent 6 hours there. You could've slept while waiting you know. And don't be angry with me, I wasn't the one who got you there." You arched a brow still not believing he was mad at you instead of Tommy.

"Speaking of, I can't wait to slap drummer. With a chair." He barked looking out the window. "And I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so harsh on you, I'm just grumpier than usual for not sleeping."

"It's okay, I understand." You were smirking at him. He placed his hand on your right hand which you rested on the gear shift. "But you have to wait with your revenge until next Monday. You know we have the whole week off."

"Finally. We can be alone for a bit. Without anyone harassing us." He stated, closing his eyes and leaning back his head. You bit your lip down fearing his reaction to what you were about to say.

"Umm...but I hope it's okay if Dylan will be around for a bit. Or I can go back to our old apartment and let you rest at your house. I would like to spend some time with Dylan before we hit the road again." You turned in the next corner after looking in both directions. It felt like ages until Mick said something.

"Babe, it's totally okay. Your brother needs you. And he won't bother me unless he runs in the hallway screaming and almost naked smashing everything in sight." You chuckled knowing exactly whom he was talking about. Luckily, Dylan has never acted like that. Alright, maybe a few months ago but that wasn't the true him. Sharon exclaimed that he was improving and was on a good path. You had every reason to believe her so you weren't so worried about being with him in one room again. On the other hand, you were thinking of how jail time might break him. He was always so strong, although terrible things happen to people in jail who spend months in.

"I'm sure he won't cause any harm. So you truly don't have any excuse to have him in your house for the week?" You asked him cautiously for reassurance. To be honest, you were the scared one. You were scared as hell since you have never been to his home. You got together during the camping you brought them on and since then you weren't home or nearby even. The tour and then the hospital, the travel to your sister.

"(Y/N), there are a few guest rooms so he can crash at my place if he wants to. Or if you think environment change is the last thing he needs right now, we can bring back him to your shared apartment." He said warming your heart how kind he was with you, with your family. How much he cared for your well-being. Your eyes welled up and you got rid of the tears by wiping them away with the top of your hand. "(Y/N), what is it?" He stiffened thinking through what he has just said. "Did I say something?"

"Yes. But nothing bad, don't worry." He relaxed a bit but still couldn't understand why you were crying. "It's just, in my whole life I only got hatred, stating with our parents. I always I was just giving and giving until nothing remained for me. I started to drain out from goodness but kept going as Isabelle and Dylan needed me. It's not that I don't love them or they don't deserve it. I didn't have anyone I could rely on, or just have a nice decent talk about what is bothering me. And after meeting you, I thought I hit jackpot. And still, you keep amazing me with your kindness, selflessness, and your big heart." You exhaled when you finished your monologue making Mick speechless again. In the meantime, you parked the car in the prison's parking lot and stopped the car. Your hands rested in your lap playing with the key. Mick got out of the car and closed the door after himself before leaning on the car with his back. You were truly afraid. You hesitated at first but then got out of the car and walked next to him, leaning on the car. You didn't say a word. About Mick, he was fighting back tears, his chest rose and fell rapidly and you couldn't help but notice his jaws were tightened.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not being there for you." He begun, finally breaking the silence. Although, what he said made your brows knitted.

"Mick, we hadn't met, you wouldn't have been able to do much about it." You leaned your head on his shoulder making him calm.

"I know, but it's so unfair. You deserve the world, (Y/N). And if someone dares to tell me otherwise I will beat the shit out of them. And may your parents rot in hell, what they did to you is unforgivable. And I'm admiring you, (Y/N), for being able to smile and keep making everyone happy after all those horrible things happened to you. You are a survivor and I have fallen in love with you madly, deeply, and undeniably." You looked up at him, feeling lost in his blue eyes. You cracked a smile and hugged him tightly, filling your lungs with his scent. He pressed a soft kiss on your forehead, his arms resting on your waist pulling you closer.

"I love you, too, Mick. With every cell of my body." You whispered. You didn't know how quickly you found each other. You completed each other, you were partners, not just lovers. You were soulmates. A loud screeching noise broke the moment making both of you look towards the source of the sound. It was the huge rusty gates opening. Your heart was hammering and you were grabbing Mick's hand strongly.

"Hey, easy, Tiger." He whispered in your ear making you loosen your grip. At first, you only saw guards but then you noticed your brother in the distance. You were grinning and couldn't believe he was finally free after months. When the guards went back inside and the gates were closed Dylan looked in your way and dropped his bag on the ground. You let go of Mick and started running towards him. When you two met you jumped on him almost making him fell.

"Hey, (Y/N)." He greeted and spun you around as you were still hanging on him like a monkey.

"Hey." You could only say this. You were so happy to have him in your arms again. The real Dylan. Not the one who hurt you or left you alone. This was the Dylan you knew in your whole life. The caring, the funny, the goofy.

"I would love to carry you like this all the way home but it's either that you eat too much recently or I am out of shape." You chuckled letting him go. You were on your feet again when Mick approached you and you saw Dylan bow his head from embarrassment and guilt.

"Hello, Dylan." He said casually. No emotions, just words.

"Hi, Mick." He muttered still not looking in his eyes. He balled his fists then loosened them again by his side. He was still battling. It broke your heart seeing him like this. "I would like to apologize. For all the things I have said and done. For acting crazy and almost hitting you in the face. I wasn't myself. And I would like to thank you for taking care of (Y/N) when I couldn't. It means a lot to me." He offered his hand to Mick as an apology. Mick glanced at you and after you nodded he shook Dylan's hand.

"Apology accepted." He gave a half-smile and winked. He knew it wasn't Dylan's fault, well, mostly. He inherited anger issues from your parents, but he should've asked for help. "So, are you hungry?"

"Hell yes. The food was horrible in there." He complained, dropping his bag on his shoulder lazily. "Sadly, they didn't serve (Y/N)'s famous spaghetti Bolognese. You could say, I'm craving that."

"I didn't know a chef lives inside you." Mick laughed arching a brow.

"I haven't had the chance to show it." You crossed your arms in front of your chest like a shield.

"Then it's high time. So, Dylan, it's your decision. Where would you like to go?" Mick asked. Dylan's eyes googled from the shock but then went back to normal.

"I'm sure your kitchen is much bigger than ours. Right, (Y/N)?" You burst into laughter from that statement because you knew damn well how small that kitchen was and barely one person could fit there, not even three.

"Then, it's settled then."

∆

"Woah, you didn't mention you live in a fucking castle." You admired the beautiful house which was settled in a forest far away from any human. It was definitely something Mick appreciated.

"It's not much. But come inside." You got your bags from the back where Dylan stood.

"Are you nervous?" He asked noticing you were biting your lip and struggling to breathe properly. And the son of a bitch was smirking. Righ in your face.

"Fuck you, Dylan." He just laughed and took the bag from your hand. Mick has already opened the door and was waiting for you.

"My lady." He gestured with his hands, letting you go first. When you stepped into the house your eyebrows were nearly invisible. When you thought about Mick and his personality you were sure he lived in a dark castle, like vampires or just a dirty apartment. You expected everything but not this. The living room was bigger than your apartment, it was light and neat. There were two huge black leather sofas in front of the fireplace with a glass table between them. The walls were white and pure.

"Like it?" Mick asked smirking and wandering his eyes in the room.

"It's freaking beautiful." You stated.

"Bloody hell, this is awesome." Dylan had almost the same reaction as you.

"This way." Mick said, you and Dylan followed him. "So this is the kitchen, I know it's not much but I hope it is big enough. And the bedrooms are upstairs.

"(Y/N), don't droll. So nasty." Dylan joked earning a scoff from you. You had to admit, this was the most fascinating kitchen you have ever seen. You quickly wiped your mouth but there was nothing.

"You are nasty!" You elbowed him in the stomach when Mick didn't pay attention earning a groan from Dylan.

"You haven't changed a bit." He murmured, trying to keep up with you.

"So, Dylan, your room will be at the end on the right. You will find towels in the wardrobe, too." He noted.

"Thanks, man. I think I will go, I don't want to bother." He winked and headed to the room but before he entered he winked and gave you a thumb up.

"Sometimes, I feel the urge just to choke him. Just a little bit." You said. Mick chuckled and took your hand into his. Butterflies in your stomach kept reminding you that you were in his house and apart from Dylan, only the two of you were there. No Nikki, no Tommy, no Vince. No concerts, no shouting, screaming, or breaking glasses. Just quiet, peace, and you.

"I'm pretty curious about your reaction so close your eyes and don't open until I say so." You nodded and did as told. He helped you not to hit anything. "Okay, now you can open it."

You cautiously and slowly opened your eyes from the sudden brightness. Huge windows were in charge of the light. However, many other things drew your attention. At least, 10 guitars were hanging on the wall along with pieces of vinyl. He knew guitars were your weakness and he was right there smiling from seeing your reaction. You were speechless.

"Dear Satan, this is beautiful." You held up your hand to hide your open mouth.

"I knew, you would like it!" He snickered and showed you around in his room. There were some bookshelves, tapes, and other types of vinyl as well. You noticed some family pictures as well. "Yeah, well, Susie hasn't changed a bit."

"These photos are adorable." You put down the frame and turned to him. "So, do you have any plans for the day?"

"What about your famous Spaghetti Bolognese Dylan was talking about?" He asked pulling you closer his eyes not leaving yours. You could feel his breath on your skin and his hands on your hips. "Or we could let him rest a bit and try if we fit in the bed?"

"Oh, I thought I would get a guest room as well." You joked earning a small laugh from him.

∆

"Gosh, how much I missed this!" Dylan was filling his mouth with your spaghetti and it appeared that Mick loved it, too. You were holding a glass full of wine and were watching them.

"It's nothing special, actually. Just some secret ingredients, that's all." You noted. "However, I'm glad that criminals love my food." You added while taking a sip.

"What?" Dylan inquired with raised brows. "Don't- don't tell me you were arrested, too. Cause I won't believe it."

Mick rolled his eyes and kept his attention on his plate.

"It wasn't me, alright? And can we just forget about it?"

"Then welcome to the club, man. Don't worry, you are not bad. She also sat in there for a few days." He tilted his head towards you making you choke on your wine.

"Nothing surprises me anymore." Mick chuckled shaking his head.

That day, you felt loved. By Mick, and by Dylan. Both are a different kind of love, but you felt special. For a long period, it was the first day, you felt safe. No fire, no drunk people trying to flirt with you, no drugs. Of course, only for a week. Then you will have to go back, but first, you wanted the enjoy every minute of being with Mick and your brother.

∆

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#mötley crüe #motley crue #mick mars #mick mars x reader #mick mars imagine #life's a sick joke #tommy lee #motley crue imagine #rocknroll #glam rock #80s rock #glam #glam metal #80s #60s 70s 80s 90s

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rixxy8173571m3w1p3 · 4 years

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The Truths Found On Petram Viridios IV (4/?)

A/N: Not only is this a long chapter, but I found a way to incorporate a prompt given to me by @hoodoo12 almost two years ago I think. Also, @twenties-sweetheart I incorporated what led the reader and Zeta-7 dating. This fic is almost done. I think there's only one or two chapters left. Hope you guys enjoy!

Read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

_________

Chapter 4 : Your Answer

You remembered when you didn't love him; a time when you had hoped he'd be a father figure and a friend who you could play card games with on Tuesdays. You used to not know him; though once you did there was no turning back. You used to not need him, but you didn't know how you couldn't. It used to be a simple crush, but he already loved you from the start.

Perhaps, you had always known, but you didn't want to see it; you had wanted to know, but your brain at times didn't want to believe it. You thought words like his were meant for fairy princesses who lived in high towers above the heavens, for royals and the knights who attended to them; for anyone else….except you. It just didn't seem possible that this man could want you, but he did and explained for the last half hour as to why.

“That’s...that’s amazing!” you exclaimed despite yourself. “You really feel that way about me?”

He nodded, his face still flushed. “I do...I-I-I love you. Do you,” he gulped. “do y-you love me?”

Of course you did, you had said so a few times already, but he was going to need a better explanation; to be reminded continually. You screwed your mouth to the side, wondering how you could put it delicately. “Well…there's too much to say, and I know it would never be enough, but I can try. Oh, and if I start to wax poetic, then let's just say it's the writer in me trying to get out. Ricardo,” you paused, encouraging him to sit down because the poor man looked ready to shake out of his skin. “what I feel is beyond love; it's our souls dancing and singing in the night, moonlit kisses, and disappearing during daybreak. Why it's not even serendipitous, but a luxurious splendor you shower me in, day in and day out, with breaks which threaten to tear me into bits and madden me. It's an adventure," he perked up at this; it was familiar territory. "with discoveries and revelations that nip at my inward parts, and pains me with equal parts desperation, fear, and gladness." Caressing his lips with your fingertips, he sighed happily." You fill my mouth with bliss, working peace along the curve of my cheek, and color my world with mystical, intelligent sayings. Ineffable creature, your veracity; how you express yourself so honestly, I'm surprised the whole world hasn't fallen in love with you. Though, I'm glad you reserved yourself just for me.”

Placing a kiss behind his ear, he made a funny noise, but you continued. “To say I love you my dear Zeta-7 isn't enough, for you are as much of myself as I am of you. Like I've said before, I'll remind you as much as you need me to.”

“H-h-h-h-how do you know? When - when was it that y-y-you started to see me differently?”

The question really struck you as odd considering it wasn't in any of his usual tones; he had seemed so sure of himself earlier, and now self-doubt peaked it's little head out. It was solemn, in a faraway voice, followed by a frown, and the deepening of the lines in his forehead. You stood up, seeing as he seemed upset, and he took this opportunity to go and make some tea; it was one of his coping mechanisms. Soon the scent of lavender filled the house; he returned and set down the cups carefully so as not to spill it.

“Oh,” he frowned; a bit tired from the emotional rollercoaster he had been in for most of the day. “I'm s-s-so sorry. If only I-I kept things simple, then it wouldn't have gotten so complicated.”

“It's okay,” you whispered. “we're both a little flustered. It….it really took a lot of courage to say what you had said earlier. So you shouldn't apologize for being human.”

“But I'm - I'm still so sorry.”

You moved your chair as close as you could, stretching out to work your fingers through his soft hair, and managed to find the beginnings of silver strands, but you said nothing of it. “You should have seen how you looked when you told me you loved me. You were so earnest and charming."

He reached out to take your hand and place it upon his heart. It was beating wildly, almost dangerously you thought. You waited until he calmed a little, and when the heavy blush and the redness of his ears softened, you knew that it was time. He really was too much, too good for you, too lovely, and you sincerely hoped you wouldn't offend him. “I hope you're ready, cause this really is going to be a long story. I think by telling it, it'll make my answer to your proposal more believable.”

________________

For years, you two had lived in the same town, in the same neighborhood, only houses away from each other. It was funny how you two hadn't met before, though Rick would later tell you it was because of his job. At the time, you would say you were old enough to know what heartbreak felt like, as well as what warmth and kindness should be; though you hadn't been in any sort of serious relationship. Like any woman your age, you had dreams of meeting someone, but for the most part, your love life wasn't first and foremost on your mind; you were busy trying to get through everyday.

So when you met Zeta-7, it never occurred to you how much he would someday come to mean to you; let alone how much your life would change. Now, it had taken a while, a little longer then you'd care to admit. It certainly wasn't love at first sight, for under the set of circumstances in which you two had met, Rick had come off as a friendly old man. But of course, after helping you carry groceries, a cup of tea, and a ukulele song, you warmed to him and became fast friends.

At first, you were hesitant in allowing him into your home; you'd seen enough Dateline to make you cautious. So, you two would meet on your porch on a regular basis, though it was not long before you felt safe enough to let him come over and repair small appliances; it was fascinating watching him tinker. And when he wasn't too busy, you'd go and see what he was doing in the garage. Perhaps you should have known then that he was different, but you had no point of comparison, and just went with it.

Sometimes, you two would just watch TV or have an occasional dinner at Shoney’s, or a late-night ice cream on your front porch. And you'd listen to his laughter; how his happy noises seemed to fill up the house. You were delighted by the nuances of his gentle voice, and at night, he'd tell about the stars, going into detailed explanations of constellations and about other heavenly bodies. It made you wonder what was out there, and it only fed your curiosity. You were comforted by his warm presence, thinking it was nice to have a father like figure around again, to fill up the time, and carry on long, meaningful conversations with. His eye for detail and selective word choice made most of your conversations laid back but stimulating.

Whether it was in your house, in his kitchen, or a quick cup of tea in the garage, he enjoyed sharing his homemade brews and you enjoyed drinking them. While at first glance he seemed simple, you took quick notice of his genteel manners, in the way he talked, in his general presence which you found was pleasing. It did not take long to notice that he was a learned man, with various degrees which hung in the left corner of his living room; he was actually a doctor in several meanings of the word. Perhaps in all meanings of the word.

Watching him mutter to himself, blissful, carefully piecing together a device that did who-knows-what filled him with joy. And you had always assumed that anyone above thirty-five - at least from what sense and sensibility told you - could not have any passion left, but you saw it every time he showed you a new invention; you saw him as he should be. As though he were this character who stepped off a page, you found yourself growing ever so curious about his thoughts, feelings, and machinations of his wonderful mind. You wanted to get close, to know him better, and he took this positively as you wanting to be best friends. And when he held you in his arms for the first time, you knew that he had ruined men for you. He wasn't supposed to feel so strong, and his arms weren't supposed to be sure, and hold you warmly, and most of all, there wasn't supposed to be a flutter.

Now having it formed in your mind that he was indeed a man, you could not smother your curiosity, though still, you tried to conceal it. It felt good to feel cared for again, and you didn't want to threaten it. Still, the affection you held for him was not the kind one felt for a parent. And your hopes and dreams were shattered, with this sudden, intense awareness of him, conscious of every breath he took, of his mobile features, recognized every nuance in his reflections.

All those times when you'd watch him dance in the kitchen, swaying about, more spritely than others your own age, you'd laugh, and he’d ask you to join him. And when your hands touched, it was like a current passed through you, and that giddiness would last all day. Those hands, which could create worlds, whisk a cream, or trace pictures in the sand, you could hold them in yours for eternity. Even longer, if what he spoke of at times was true.

If he had weeks where work kept him busy, he would call you, and you'd drop what you were doing to listen; he was always so excited to hear your voice; it lightened up your day. Or when he finally saw you after a few days, he'd greet you with a warm hug, and you'd return with equal enthusiasm. At times, you felt as though neither wanted to let go and held on to each other longer than what was platonically acceptable, but you'd pretend as though nothing happened, even if your heart was screaming. Why you'd almost lose yourself in his grasp.

As a man who wore his heart on his sleeve, you never felt as though there were any hidden agendas, or that he had a pervy attraction to you. On the contrary, you felt like the pervert for feeling all giddy and excited whenever he spoke with enthusiastic intelligence or showed you his experiments. There were times when you'd reach out and pat him on the back, telling him he had done such a good job, and he'd gift you with his winning smile, which caused unusual thoughts to cross your mind, and it messed you up. What was he to you?

Whether you were at home, or you sat in his home for a tea party, you knew something was the matter with you. You were a mess of feelings, of messy, happy, effervescent feelings, which you expressed in your work, in your writing. Harmless thoughts, which lingered and filled the contents of a novel. It was the story of a young woman who had fallen in love with her older, mute neighbor. In your head, you reasoned that your character was nothing like him, that the older man, as brilliant as he was in mathematics, science, and botany, who expressed himself through his actions, and kindness was made up. Perhaps your readers thought the same, but the modest ebook sales only reinforced that maybe there was something to it.

Missed glances, brief moments where you touched, awkward laughs, and a heart heavy feeling sitting on your chest; he was always on your mind. In between your issues, when you were doubtful, he'd reassure you of your capabilities, and when he felt lacking, you'd remind him of his genius. And while there were many moments which had been lovable, which were dear to you, you replayed the times that were nearest to your ideals; of what fits into your daydreams. You're not sure when, but it had been you who started to flirt regularly, and watch him blush, stammer, and get flustered; it gave you an odd thrill knowing it had been you who had caused him to feel as such, but then it would trouble you all the more. It wasn't fair to him, and you weren't helping your cause.

What were you doing, trying to toy with the feelings of an old, lonely man, who had little in the world, but your friendship and a few possessions; it filled your heart with grief. You didn't want to hurt him, you just wanted him to think you were beautiful, smart, funny, and well everything you'd want your crush to feel. If you were unhappy, he'd cheer you up with gifts, desserts, and his generous affection. For the most part, you knew his intentions were honorable, but in your head, you'd hope differently.

It could not work, he was so much older than yourself; not that you cared. For all you knew you were like the daughter he never had. In your heart, you tried to resolve that all you felt was friendship, but then he'd smile, laugh, or be kind to you and you were falling apart. You weren't a kitten, you had always liked men your own age, but you didn't just like him, you were intoxicated by him.

He wasn't even handsome. Well…at first, you didn't think so. You did however find him strangely adorable, and lovely. He was tall and slender, so he wore clothes well. Very gentle and nice, clean-shaven, with abundant blue hair, with the exception of the few strands which choose to be rebellious, prominent buck teeth which gave him a childish innocence, but straightforward, electric blue eyes which reminded you otherwise.

Your eyes would follow him as he moved about the room. Rick had long lashes for a man and was just as impressive overall, and intelligence was even more so. Could anything possibly stop him? Death perhaps, though Zeta-7 didn't care to admit how age played a big role in his energy levels at times, but you knew it was to be expected. You knew what you were getting yourself into when it came to dating someone so much older than yourself; if he'd consider it that is. For hours, he somehow kept up with your foolishness, and you barely managed to follow his genius.

You'd follow if he asked you to come, and in time you knew you were his. You felt loyalty to him, the kind which you knew you'd never revoke. You thought at first that it was his personable nature which had endeared you to him, but it was everything. He was everything.

Zeta-7 had always been affectionate, but not in the way which made you worry. You craved it, his attention, his affection, and wished to be closer than woven gossamer, and took everything he was willing to give you. You were not in love, you would tell yourself, it was merely infatuation. He was simply a cheerful grandpa kind of man, whose arms you would melt in, whose gentle, and generous affection you were greedy for. You were selfish, that was simply it.

Then came the defining moment, which happened one night while you two were cooking together. You needed a few cloves of garlic to chop for the eggplant lasagna, and he just kept handing you cloves. You told him you had enough, and he smiled warmly, telling you there could never be enough garlic and you stopped. You two stared at each other for what seemed like hours even though only seconds passed. It was as though you had come to an understanding.

His winning smile had been the most beautiful thing you had ever seen, his eyes captured you, and you knew for a fact that what you felt was something greater than friendship. The rest of the evening you found yourself in a daze, and hesitant to be near him. In your heart, your feelings felt as though it were almost forbidden, as though you shouldn't feel this way for someone who was a great friend. You blamed these feelings on your own impatience, inexperienced like the man before you. Yeah, you wanted his attention, and he had been attentive. Everyday he made sure your emotional needs were met, he'd probably do just about anything if you asked him to, but you were scared, perhaps just as afraid as he was. Still, the words themselves were an enigma, they burned, they toiled, begging to be said, but you were afraid. Yet, you searched his face, and found the answer; you were falling in love with him.

His sing-song voice twisting and curling about you. You wouldn't risk it you told yourself, but before you went to bed that night he called you and apologized if he had offended you. “No”, you had said, “I'm just not feeling well, but I'll be fine. I promise, I'm going to be okay, so you don't have to worry about me.”

“I-I-I can't help it, I care about you.” was his sincere reply.

Those dizzying warm feelings of affection bubbled and boiled, and you did your best to try to repress them. As usual, he wanted to help you feel better, but you were afraid it would ruin things; you'd rather hurt yourself, then hurt him, and never see him again. For the next week, you thought long and hard, and the next time you two met, you were sitting in his home for afternoon tea, and you told him of how you felt right out of the blue. “Rick, I like you.”

Being the dear man he was, he thought you were talking in platonic terms. “Gosh, really? Well, that's why I'm - why I'm glad we're best friends.”

“No,” you sighed. “that's not what I meant.” You watched as his smile turned to fear, but you continued. “I know you're much older then I am, and you probably see me as some kid, but I'm a grown woman, with adult feelings. And for a while, I thought it was nothing, but I can't ignore it anymore. I care about you as my friend and I understand if you don't want that to change, but I see you as a man, and I hope you realize that I like you so much. There's nothing you can say which will change it because I don't want to change these feelings of mine. I'm not saying this to make fun of you, or because I'm lonely, but to let you know that I like you and that I'm not ashamed.”

So what if you were a kitten, you cared about him, and you knew that if he were to let you down, he would be gentle about it. The sweet, kind man that he was, gently, and carefully placed a shaky hand upon yours and gave it a squeeze. And he cried, “Gosh, you - you don't know how relieved I am. I-I-I thought I was a pervert for-for feeling the way I had.”

“Wait, you….you like me too?”

He groaned, as though he were in pain, and studied you before he continued. “I-I-I don't understand, I'm - I'm so old and gross, and y-you are like a freshly bloomed rose. H-h-h-h-how…..w-w-why?”

You reassured him, taking his hand in yours, rubbing your face into his shaky palm. “Because I just do.”

When he calmed, he looked at you with such affection, and the soft look he gave you made your breath caught. He was in love with you. Even back then, his feelings had been greater, but you dared not believe it. How could you believe it?

Your kind, gentle friend had won you over with such kindness and attracted you with a tender heart. When did you know? In moments when you saw him, not the old man, but of the softness, the beauty of an intriguing mind, and of winsome determination to be happy and to help you be happy too. You held each other so tight, you felt as though you were bound together.

He held you with a strength you did not realize one his age even still had. This was a time before kisses, before great declarations. It was a time to feel, to learn, to hold one another in a soul-crushing embrace. His heartbeat was alarmingly fast, and there had been something almost boyish in the way he placed a tress of hair behind your ear. You were the first to admit your feelings, but he had been the first to ask. A nervous chuckle escaped him, and a little lip-bite followed. “I-I am quite fond of you, and seeing that we - that our feelings are mutual, would - will you…will y-y-you go steady with me?”

As archaic as the terms might have been, it was still charming, and being the kind of man he was, you knew he meant it, and that there was only one way to answer. “Yes, I'd love to.”

Of course, you would go out with him. And forever, that memory would be etched upon your soul.

________

With wide eyes, he remembered how ashamed he had felt. He sat up, ready to shield his face, but you held your arms open. Like back then, you held each other in a soul-crushing embrace. “Do you understand now, my dear, dear friend? There was no way it could have been anyone else. Like a tree planted by streams of water, I've flourished under your attentions. You see me…. you see what I am, as I am. We make each other happy, every day, all the time.”

You two were not wary strangers; passersbys in one another's narratives; not in this instance at least. Neither were you two butterflies emerging from cocoons; descendants of lovers found in a field of barley; discovering and reveling in springtime gusts and gales. No, you were not beautiful like alabaster apples on a ledge; nor figments of one's imagination. You were, however, on the cusp of change; this was the rest of it; the continuation of what had been attempted two years ago; it was nothing like how you thought it would be, but the expectancy of the moment was palpable nonetheless. For your part, you admired the lovely scarlet coloring which crept up his neck and tinged the top of his ears; how becoming it was as well as boyish. And if it weren't already obvious, you didn't need time to think of a reply, and with clear purpose, you answered. "And dear, well, we are still friends. We're best friends. The sweetest, dearest friends that anyone could ever have, except that we love one another. Oh, I do want to. I will marry you."

Oh, whatever future there might've been destined for him, you altered its course by your acceptance of his proposal. Unlike the nihilistic view where no one had a choice, and what had been written was set in stone and that nothing mattered, you decided would not be so. In partaking in this agreement, you had taken on the consequences of what might occur in connection with Rick's work life. You had also taken on the responsibility of what you'd have to do once Rick surpassed the ability to mechanize himself any further than he already had. Still, you could live with this new burden because you were no stranger to heartache and had to make the best of what you two had; love made you do it; unbidden joy was your reward.

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Check it outWALKING ON WATER AND ITS SYMBOLIC MEANING

History tells us that the original- followers of Jesus differ in a great degree from Catholicism and Protestantism. In a great degree. History traces the Christian Church back to the "Essenes". The Essenes from what history can decipher believed in a religion very close to that of John the Baptist. Their religion was merely an awakening, a call to the people's consciousness to leave sin, leave corruption and come back to the essence of faith.That's why they're called "the Essenes". Come back to the essence of faith.

This later Christianity shows the structure and the framework of Idolatry, Paganism. It represents an attempt to put Jesus and his teachings in the language and framework of paganism. That's all that it represents. Peter is suppose to be the head of Christianity. Protestantism came as a rebellion against the rule of Peter.They broke off from the Catholic Church and formed what is called now the Protestant Religion.You see!

Let us see now what the Bible says about Peter, who represents the beginning of the Church. The Bible says that Jesus stood upon the water and he beckoned to Peter to stand upon the water. And Peter stood upon the water, but soon began to sink. So the Bible is saying something about Peter. What does this mean? Some will say "oh, it means Peter wasn't equal to the Lord, Christ. Standing on the water is a feat only for God. Only God in Jesus Christ could do a thing like that." It is saying that Peter wouldn't do miracles, but Jesus could. Let us go back again and read the Bible. Jesus said "and greater miracles you will do after me". All right. According to their New Testament Jesus says in the Bible to his Disciples, to Peter, Paul and others, "greater miracles will you do after me". So that can't apply then, it was not a miracle, it's something else that it refers to. You have to understand what water represents. Why is water so important to religion? You think it only means water? You're baptized in water, for what? To be reborn a Christian. Why? Because water is symbolic of Christian morals or Religious morals. Water is a term common to all the great Religions. It is a term meaning religious morals. So you are asked to come out of the morals of the world in to religious morals and they baptize you in the water of Christianity.

If Peter couldn't stand on the waters of religious morals that speaks very poorly for the head of the Church. And if you don't think my explanation or my exegesis is correct go and test it with any authority in religion and you will find that they will bare witness that what I've interpreted to you of the Scripture is correct. That is about water, what water means. If Peter couldn't stand upon the water that speaks very poorly for the leader, head of the Church.

Water represents even more than that. In fact the meaning goes back to the spiritual nature of the individual. To the spiritual nature of individual. But what are we talking about when we say spiritual nature, exactly what are we talking about? To some of your minds spirit suggests spookism. We are not talking about the unknown. We are not talking about spookism when we say spiritual nature. We are talking about your emotional nature. The spiritual nature is simply the emotional nature. Your emotional nature has in it desire for refined morals, desire for justice, desire for beauty and love and kindness and all the other things that we like in religion. Is that right? Yes! It is your emotional nature that calls for that.

So we can go back now to the very beginning of this terminology and we see that water stands for the emotional nature of the human being. Without you having any knowledge of the history of this terminology, how the meaning has come to be what it is now and what it was yesterday without you having any knowledge of that at all you can understand water being symbolic of emotional make-up of the human being, or the spiritual make-up of the human being. Because it fits so perfectly as a name or as a descriptive word for the emotional or spiritual make-up of the human being.Water, if you leave it alone it will come to rest. It comes to rest and it is perfectly still, but the least little trouble causes it to quiver. Just a little breathe of air will cause its surface to quiver. A little light touch makes waves go off and they ripple all across the surface of the water.

Isn't that a very good description of your emotional make-up, your spiritual make-up, your nervous system. When something touches it, it ripples all through it. So water is symbolic of that and out of this emotional make-up is where morals come. Morals are born in our emotional make-up. If Allah hadn't made us emotional creatures do you think we would have some morals? We wouldn't, have any morals. We would be like the rock, like the tree, like the stone and the- inanimate objects, they have no morals. They have their place in natural science, in the natural order of the universe. They have no moral life. It is the living creature with flesh and blood that has moral life because he has a nervous system and emotional make-up that brings him into a spiritual conscience and he begins to question injustices and aspire to the finer things of his moral nature. You see! This is the human creature.

Now if Peter couldn't stand upon that what does that say for Peter? It says that Peter had not a developed emotional make-up. It says that Peter had not a developed spiritual and emotional make-up. That's what it says.

Show me a Pope that follows his Catholicism or a Priest or a Christian man or person that follows Catholicism and I will show you a person that has an undeveloped spirituality and undeveloped emotional make-up. What develops us emotionally? Our human relationships. When I fall in love with a young girl that's the test for my emotional make-up. If I'm able to grow with her and to be devoted to her and to have children by her and then stand the test of my children, because my children are also going to test my emotional make-up. So in our social relationships is where our emotional make-up develops. God has designed our social life to develop our emotional life. That's what develops your emotional life. By going away from women and not marrying, not having children, not meeting the challenge of society, that will not develop your emotional make-up.

How does the leadership of the Christianity exist like this? because they follow a principle. And they call their principle a logic, but is it really logic? What Is that principle? Tin- principle is this, that Jesus Christ is the son of God. That's the principle. By what reasoning, by what reasoning? The reasoning is this, he is the son of God by the spirit and the spirit has its origin in the law that governs all creation. And the law has its origin in the Creator, who created it, Therefore, the law is also the Will of God and the Will of God is also God. That is their reasoning! That's the stone that Peter is.It cannot stand in human emotional and spiritual life, it sinks, it sinks. It gets no support when placed into the human spirituality or into the human emotional make-up. It gets no support. If that's all they told us they wouldn't get one follower for Jesus. Yes! If that was all they told us they wouldn't get one follower for Jesus. But how do they make this effective now?

They appeal to your emotional make-up and then they get something that your emotional make-up can take or something your emotional make-up likes. They tell you that Jesus came to save the world from sin and that he loves everybody and he came to die for you. You personally brother, you personally sister, you personally little girl, you personally little boy, Jesus came to die for you. Now they have found a way into our emotional make-up. Jesus stands upon the water when he's put into an emotional package. Like water supports wind, doesn't the air ride the water? The air and the wind ride the water, the water supports it. So when you put Jesus into an emotional package into a spiritual package like air, he can stand on the water. He doesn't sink, but when you go to the head ofMarriage is not easy. It can be difficult. It can also be amazing and beautiful. Your partner is not perfect. Neither are you. So why demand perfection? The grass is not always greener on the other side. Today, let us pray for all those marriages which are causing heartache and may Allah protect, bless and guide us all. AmeenWHAT IS MUSLIM

The Muslim is one who yields his will to the will of Almighty God. We must keep in mind forever that God's will is the salvation of the people. Not our will; our will can't save us unless we give it to the guidance from God.

Jesus said, "Your will be done," according to the language of the Christians. "Not my will, your will." The Muslim is one who yields his will to the will of God.

God has given us human will so we can earn something for ourselves. So we can earn dignity for ourselves.

He has also given us hints in His creation, and has sent prophets to us to back up those hints. By those hints he has guided us and taught us that our will alone cannot save us.

The human being's will, from the time it is created, is searching for some guidance to give itself to. This is nature. The baby is looking for something to guide it. The woman, the man, grow and become adults looking for something to guide them. They go to the institutions of learning, to the houses of worship, looking for something to guide their will so they may form their lives by it.

They are looking for something to shape their will, to give meaning to their lives in the world. They run into so many problems. They can't find the answers they think they should get. They give up; and what do they do after this?

Many give their will to the forces of destruction. They give their will to lies, to corruption, to confusion, and they go down. They are destroyed by ignorance and by corruptible things.

The will in man is naturally designed or naturally made to seek God. The human will seeks God and when we find God, we find our peace.

We don't know God in all of His divine names or in all of His divine attributes. God has to show us these things through His prophets, through guidance. But we know that there is something that needs to be united with something that is missing. We don't always know what it is, but it is truth.

The human being comes into the world and the world teaches the human being some truth and some lies. The lies separate us from the reality that we should naturally be united with.

So God sends us His messengers to teach us that we are one creation, and not two. One creation, and that the Creator of this creation is one, not two, not three. One God. One Allah. One Creator for everything.

This oneness brings peace to us. Two or three bosses over us, running our lives brings confusion as the Quran says. Many people don't stop at two or three bosses, they worship prophets and saints. They give their lives to many directions. And what has this resulted in? The absence of the worship of God.

Look at the society of these people who have given their lives to two and three Gods, and to many saints for guidance. The leaders are writing "God is dead." And recently these words appeared in the New York Times commercial ad: "If God is alive, why is religion in so much pain?"

Why is religion in so much pain for whom? Not for us. Our religion is free of pain. It's relieving us of our pain.

God is alive and has always been alive for the Muslims, and all true believers.

A Muslim life is a clear life, not a life of confusion. The way that is shown to us is a clear way.

The Quran itself is called the clear book. Al-Bayan, very clear evidence, guidance, not something to guess at. It is self-evident. It doesn't leave us to interpret and establish it.

There's a lot in the Quran that needs interpretation but such is not the basis of the Book. Allah says in the Quran that "these verses are allegorical and basic." Allegorical may need interpretation.

"Those in whose hearts is crookedness or perversity, they prefer the allegorical over the basic." They like to get into the mysteries and avoid clear teaching.

"But the clear verses are the basis of the Book." That is where we stand. We stand on those clear teachings. We can all discuss and maybe make some contribution toward understanding the allegorical teachings but that's not what we stand on. We stand upon the clear teachings.

One God Who's not creation. Who is Creator. Who has no image, no likeness in creation, and He's not like creation. He made creation but He's not like it.

"Creation must exist by two"— forces, male and female, negative and positive. Allah says: "But I am the one who exists alone,"—needing no forces to aid Him.

Allah says again in His attributes that He is God, whose very being will not permit any contribution. Want to contribute something to God? Give Him a little help? No! Give God obedience. His very being refuses any contribution. It is our being that wants something. "Come, help me. Give me something." That is the human cry.

God says to us in the Quran, "Slumber nor sleep touches Him." He does not need food or anything. "He's the one who feeds and is not fed."

He needs nothing from us and the attribute As-Summad says, Allah is eternal, whose very being rejects contributions. Don't make your contribution thinking God can suffer a want for something. Make contributions to righteousness. Make contributions to yourself for God's sake. Make contributions to your life in obedience to God.

Send God some charity? Give God some help to save sinners? He doesn't need any help to save sinners. We need help to save ourselves.

God gives us that help in our intelligence. He gives us that help in our nature, in the sentiments of our heart. He also gives us help through inspired people, the prophets. But He needs no help. The God that is perfect. The God that is whole, needs nothing. The God that has no need for anything, no flaws, the perfect being, the Giving, the Loving, the Almighty.

Imam W.D. Mohammed (raa)"Seekers of knowledge should never stop seeing themselves as students, no matter how knowledgeable they may become. For whenever a student has reached a horizon,a new one will appears to him in the distance, and when the new horizon appears the the sun sets on the one he has obtain."

~ UnknownBook #3 WDM p.18 of 86

Allah judges

Allah knows their value. we can’t judge that. We may take a brother who drinks and sit him over there with the corrupt, and that brother who drinks may be in heaven a little higher than us when are resurrected. We don’t know. Maybe the drinking that you did with Islamic science was bigger, made you a bigger drunk than he is. So we don’t know. So it is hard for us to do that. But sometimes I would like to see a good situation where all the corrupt, I know they are over there. I would be free, more relaxed to talk over here. When I talk over there I’d have something for them to say. It would be more relaxed for me to address them knowing that they are over there. But we can’t do that.

So now, what do we have to see, first? That Al Islam is a Religion that focuses the light on man and shows him firstly, principally, as a social creature; that G-d intended for him to be a social creature; not to be satisfied being an island, or on an island all to himself; that he must mate and become a bigger social unit; family, tribes, and then until you embrace the whole community of man on this earth and see yourself as a member in one family, with all people. So man is a social creature.

Qur’an gives social inspiration

Man is a social creature and the spirit of the Qur’an is, what? The spirit of the Qur’an is social inspiration. It feeds our social aspirations. This word social is bigger than we think it is. By social we don’t mean just associating with each other, physically, but our dependency on each other as members of a world society. We want to keep the focus on the Muslim community right now. As members of the Muslim community, our dependency on each other brings us together and our love for each other brings us together. So here we have a love for each other that brings us

Book #3 WDM p.19 of 86 together, and a dependency on each other that brings us together.

Pretty soon we find that the teacher of the school has to be tied up full time in doing that. But there is also a need to have business growing in the community. So there is a business person feeding business.

The social context in terms of people keeps expanding with growth, and as it grows there is more demand for more things to take care of the needs of its growing people. He can have the regulation of the home in the parent. He can have the regulation of the family in the parent. He can have the regulation of the morals in the parent, the discipline, the laws that discipline the family can be in the parent, everything. Everything can be in the parents.

That’s a small unit and he can manage that. But when it extends and involves hundreds of families, he can’t manage that. If there is nobody but him and his family, he can go out, take his sons out with him, children with him, go out and plow the field, and regulate his own food. He doesn’t need anybody to regulate the economy for him. He can handle that. But when they multiply in a social unit, it’s the social unit that is getting bigger. The social unit gets bigger and brings in demands for industry, for more sophisticated government, more complex government ideas, and everything else we can think of. There is not one other single influence responsible for the growth and development of society, other than the social principle, or the social influence.

Now, go back to the sun as a symbol. The sun, I said earlier that it’s the principle behind all the changes in the weather, the growth and everything, didn’t I? So here you have, now, me saying that the social interest, the social principle, is the influence behind all the other growth and possibilities.

Can’t we then say that the sun is also a symbol of man as a social unit, the Khalifa is male and female, and the purpose of male and female is to have generations? That’s the social principle. So the Khalifa is the social principle. He is the sun. He is the social principl"America, The Modern Sodom and Gomorrah"

If your eyes are open, and you look around us today, you can't help but notice that America has the wrath of God on it, and it may very well be because those who are religious leaders in this society have abandoned their duties and responsibilities in leading the masses of society in the moral direction set by G'd The Almighty.

The religious leadership is getting weaker and weaker by the day. A good example of how weak they have become - There once was a time when homosexuality was taboo in this society and throughout the world, in one time or another. If you look around us today you'll see that it's just about accepted not only among the masses, but even among some clergy. If you ask the clergy what their views are on this subject, many will tell you that homosexuals deserve rights that everyone else has, or they may say that they don't see homosexuality as a serious problem facing America today.

Dear people, when the religious role models in this society can't see that all problems stem from a spiritual problem, we're in trouble! When those who do see it as a problem are too weak to address the issues that their religious scripture draws out as a clear abomination, then there's no leadership for those right minded people. Some religious leaders will admit that homosexuality is unnatural, but they'll say it only behind closed doors, because they're too afraid to address the issue for fear of the consequences, what ever they may be. This is terrible because this shows that they have no faith in the All-Powerful, Almighty G'd, Who no one is a match for. There are homosexuals preaching in the church in some cities across the country. Even our politicians are supporting homosexuals because they want their votes.

Homosexuality is slowly being accepted as a natural way of life because the religious leaders have failed to prove otherwise.

By now you have noticed that we have yet to use the term most commonly used today, gay -- This term came from the same sociologists in this society who determine and define what's sane and what's insane in America -- many who are themselves homosexuals.

IS HOMOSEXUALITY A CREATION OF G'D?

Almighty G'd has shown us in the Bible, the Torah and the Qur'an that homosexuality is an abomination. So how did they get people to accept what G'd has made forbidden? They suppressed G'd's word and changed the terms homosexual and pervert to a term that people already naturally accepted as a happy word, and so the term gay was used for homosexuals. It's easier to say gay rights than to say pervert rights. This is very clever of those so-called students of human behavior, who because of their knowledge and wealth and hunger for power strayed from the path of G'd and became enemies to G'd and humanity. They have piggybacked on the struggle of civil rights and minorities and have gained a following, but no matter what they do they can never change what G'd has made natural.SEVEN LOCKS

The Jahcubite Conspiracy

Seven locks. L-O-C-K-S. You need a key to open a lock. His (Samson) strength was in this, that his knowledge was locked up. Seven locks of hair. His knowledge wasn’t exposed to other people. And the moment he exposed it to Delilah whom he trusted, he lost his strength. Is that right. Yes.All right let’s continue now. Seven locks. Yes. So the locks you understand is a secret knowledge, secret knowledge that runs the course, it’s a knowledge that runs the course and it’s to be repeated (. Do Re Mi Fa So La Ti Do...) Because once it runs a course, it can’t be…. can’t keep going, you have to start it back over again. You start with doe, re, mi, fa, sol, la, ti. When you get to ti, that’s the cross, now you can’t keep going with the cross, you have to bring in doe again. So you bring in Communism, or something else and you start the world all over again — do, re, mi, fa, sol, la, ti and you bring them to worship the Jahcubite again. And when they caught him, when they catch up with him, can’t keep the tee going, got to stop the worship of the Jahcubite. But start the world all over again with a new knowledge, do, re, and all the way up to ti again. So you keep going from one knowledge that is invented by the Jahcubite conspirators that lead you to the worship of the Jahcubite. Once you catch onto them that you’re worshiping them, they create another knowledge that brings you right to the same place again. So this is the seven locks of Samson that was his strength.

Samson fell in love with the hell he created and got weak But he fell in love so much with Delilah, Delilah is sin and darkness. Samson got weak. He fell in love with the hell he had created for the Gentiles. Delilah wasn’t meant for him to fall in love with. He wasn’t supposed to love Delilah; he was supposed to marry a different girl.So he ends up falling in love with Delilah that he didn’t really want. He didn’t want Delilah. But Delilah kept putting herself in his way. Why because he was raising a whole lot of hell in the world, and hell got so thick in the world, that even Samson couldn’t escape it.So sin and corruption came even against Samson … and the Jewish boys starts getting in the filth and the Jewish girls start going astray, and pretty soon the Jewish community gets disordered. Oh yeah.In love with the corruption that they created for other people.So what they got to do now? Well. Too late. Once the Jewish conspirators get weak for the sins of the wicked environment that they themselves formed, then they began to let out secrets to the people in the sinful environment.

They become drunk with the corruption that they created. And they lose mental fortitude or composure, they lose the composure, they lose the ability to hold in, what they shouldn’t let out. And they began to let out, not by word all the time, by their actions, by the mannerisms. The dark society began to peep their hold card. Ooooh, I see something. Yes, you get too intimate; somebody is going to see something. You see? So the people see. When the people see, then they expose the Jahcubite scheme. When the Jahcubite scheme is exposed, they have no strength. They become like ordinary people. Have no supernatural strength anymore. And their knowledge then is just on a level with our knowledge. So they are in the dark with us. They see no more than we see. So he becomes blind. Samson became blind. He had no superior eyesight. It was no more than the blindness of the society, because they had gotten his special knowledge. You understand? All right.

Samson can produce more fine flour of enlightenment

He’s blind now, and the world begins to use him. Not because they forced it on him. It looks like Samson was forced to do this. That’s all tricks. No, he has no other recourse; he has no other way, no other alternative. They know my secret now. My secret wisdom is of no power to me. Now what I’ll do is show them that I am stronger than an ox. I can grind more corn than their ox.I am going to get at the wheels of their economy. I’m going to get at the wheels of their academic knowledge, schools of thought. I am going to show them,I can produce more fine flour of academic knowledge. I can produce more fine flour of enlightenment. I will show them that I can produce what they want, and they won’t kill me, they will keep me as their workhorse, their ox, to grind the fine flour.So he goes from one conspiracy to another one.He goes underground like the Mafia and the Ku Klux Klan sometimes. And you say, “Oh I don’t see him anymore, they must be gone”. He’s not gone. He’s just grinding flour; he’s going to make bread all over again. And when he makes his bread, he will start again with do and he will go to re, mi, fa, sol, la, ti.

So he can’t see any more than you, but he knows how to grind the flour and he has the strength of the ox. So he grinds the flour of knowledge and he works with you in your blind world, in the darkness, right with you. But in time, he rises to the superior position. He has made him some flour that is special. Oh yes. And he is going to make him some dough that is special. And pretty soon he’s going to have all the bread. And when he gets the bread, he’s going to have the power. And then he will bring in re. And then after he brings in re, the world will come back to him, he would have mi again, and he will bring it on back up to fa, sol, la, ti, and when he gets to ti, he’ll have the world worshiping the Jahcubite again. And this thing continues over and over again, an endless circle. This is the true knowledge of the secret Jahcubite conspiracy. Not from the protocols of Zion. This is straight from the horse’s mouth. And you will find four horses in the Bible.

Imam W.D. Mohammed (raa)THE MEANING OF AR-RAHMAN

By Imam W. Deen Mohammed

(Editor's note: The following is excerpted from a Ta'lim lecture delivered December 15 in Chicago by Imam Muhammad.

Now we come to the names that are given in Qur'an that belong to Allah. The Qur'an says, "La-illaha-illalah, there is no God except Allah." and the Qur'an gives us names that belong to Allah. And the first one Ar-Rahman is given. Ar-Rahmanu means the Gracious. It's translated in different ways in English. Some translations say 'the Gracious,' some say, 'the kind.' If you look up 'kind' in the dictionary it doesn't only mean nice, it also means generous. So, 'kind' and 'generous.' the combination, means niceness and generosity, goodness and generosity.

Some translations have given it as 'beneficent,' which means 'befitting' out of His kindness and grace. That's correct, too. All of these English terms are correct. But understand that the term 'Rahman' means to show mercy. So whatever God does that's good to us is a help to us, is kindness to us, out of His graces. It comes from His mercy.

He's a merciful God. He doesn't like to see His Creatures suffer. He doesn't like to see His creatures experience bad times, and misery, so it is His way to extend mercy to them. He is Ar-Rahman.

THE NEXT NAME THAT is given is Ar-Raheem. These are the two most often repeated names in the Holy Qur'an. In fact; every chapter except the 9th Chapter begins like that.

Bismillah, With the Name of God. Ar-Rahman. Ar-Raheem. the Gracious, the Compassionate, or the Gracious, the Merciful, the Beneficent, the Merciful.

As I have explained, there are different English words and they all can be suitable for the names Ar-Rahman and Ar-Raheem. Ar-Raheem is translated as the Merciful, but some Arabs have translated it to mercy-giving. I hope with a few comments on this name I will be able to make clear to you why some of them feel that to say "the Merciful," is not good enough.

'Ra-hi-mah.' means to show mercy, or give mercy. And this word, 'ar-Rah-ma-nu.' means the one who gives out of His gracious gift, from His bounty, from His great and unlimited resources to His creatures, and He does it out of mercy.

AR-RAHEEM too, has a connection with this word: both have connection with this word.

THIS CONCEPT of God comes from the understanding that before the creature became conscious of its needs. God had already been merciful and kind to that creature.

The baby is in the womb of his or her mother for nine months. We don't believe that it's conscious of its needs. But look at the nice situation that God has put that baby in. It slept on a waterbed before we did. That's a nice situation for that baby. It's shockproof, so if anybody punched the mother's stomach, the water bag cushions it, right? Yes. So we believe that God, before we are even aware that we need something, has already been generous and kind to us.

We come into this world, and we say, 'oh, I'm poor. But it is you who's poor. The world is not poor, the world is rich.

Why are you poor? Either because you are not yet-aware, or you're not yet ready to change your situation and go after the riches, or there are overwhelming forces that are keeping you away from it.

BUT THE world is not poor, God is generous! He has filled the world with all that is rich, more than we can see, more than we consume.

God has already put it here. So He is Gracious. He is Gracious. Ar-Rahmanu, out of His mercy. He is Gracious. Then, Ar-Raheemu. The condition comes now, and God has provided, but His creatures can't see it. Then He comes and makes a way for His creatures to get it against those barriers, odds or obstructions. He comes and opens the way so he can get it. That's the ar-Rahman, ar-Raheem.

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