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kybervisions · 4 years ago

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slight obsessions [bucky]

summary: after months of obsessing over a senator, bucky is given the opportunity to save her. he then visits her in the hospital

author’s note: warning, warning, this will feature aspects of the u.s government,,, \\ lil bit of fluff and mentions of torture ,, just a kidnapped senator and bucky pining ,, requests are open :)

The security footage of your kidnapping at the fundraiser was leaked to the media. Millions watched as a prominent U.S senator was ambushed and drugged before being dragged into an unmarked vehicle. Bucky’s heart ached. “We’ll find her,” Sam, well-aware of Bucky’s infatuation with you, promised his friend.

Bucky was unprepared to find you in the state that you were, bloody and bruised. There was a cut above your eyebrow and blood dripped down your face. Your skin was riddled with red and purple. The metal cuffs around your wrists and ankles dug into your skin and caused you to bleed. There was track marks on your arms and your knee didn’t look too good either.

You looked nearly unrecognizable — almost nothing like the senator that so adamantly advocated for his pardon.

“Captain?” You mutterly weakly, barely recognizing the two figures near the doorway. The drugs they pumped into you fucked with your vision and made you feel absolutely sick. You could barely keep your eyes open. Everything hurt and you shivering from the lack of warmth.

Sam quickly ran past Bucky and his fingers searched for a pulse on your neck. Weak, but it was something. Once up close, Sam could see the multitude of track marks on your skin and his fingers gently touched them, causing you to cry, something that completely shocked you. Zemo had stopped giving you water a few days ago.

“We’re going to get you out of here, senator,” Sam pulled out a Widow’s Bite, which he had secretly stolen from Natasha, and used the electricity within the bite to override the power source of the cuffs.

When the cuffs opens, you were released from the vertical interrogation chair. Before you fell on the concrete floor, Bucky quickly reached out to catch you.

“Fuck!” You shouted and startled Bucky. You bit your lip in an attempt to silence your pain. After weeks of absolute hell, you were sensitive to touch. Tears filled your eyes and you weren’t strong enough to hold them back. “It hurts,” You whimpered. You felt sick. Cold and weak and wanting to puke but having nothing in your stomach to regurgitate.

A protectiveness he had not felt since before the war consumed Bucky. Seeing you so weak and in pain filled him with both anger and the need to make you feel better. Your big, soft, and tear-filled eyes awakened his primal instinct to defend and protect.

He acknowledged there was still something wrong with him, because even in the state that you were in, Bucky wanted nothing more than to press his lips against yours and hold you against him.

For a short second, while looking down into your eyes, the world was quiet.

“C’mon, man,” Sam urged them. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to be in here when the timer goes off,”

“Alright, alright,” Bucky agreed. “Um, can you run?” He looked down at you again. You were smaller in person. The television must make everyone look like titans. On the screen, you had such a larger than life presence. Whether it was asking questions during committee hearings or speaking out against a bill, you were imposing.

“She can barely stand,” Sam answered before you. With all the drugs in your system, you were nearly unresponsive. “Pick her up and let's go!”

Once they reached the C.I.A medical facility, Sharon told a room full of reporters that the senator had been found and was being examined by professionals. She did not give too much information, which was typical for intelligence agencies.

By “being examined by professionals”, Sharon meant you were undergoing surgery because whatever was injected into your body caused you to go under septic shock. She omitted that part, not wanting to give the public further cause to worry.

After the surgery, only family was allowed to enter your hospital room. Some of your staff was able to bypass that rule. You were still recovering, but your top aide, Winnie, had begun planning your first public appearance.

“You’re a certified badass now,” Winnie informed you, and it made you chuckle. Winnie had been by your side since you were a congressional freshman and you loved them to death. “The corpses will have to show you actual respect now,” They smiled, referring to your coworkers as corpses gives them a bit of joy.

“I’m sure Stern will find a reason to call me a traitor to the country,” You replied. Your strong opposition of the intelligence agencies earned you a lot of enemies.

“Yeah, well, he’ll — ”

The door had opened and there stood a “Hi, sorry. I, uh, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Bucky stopped at the doorway. He was holding a small bouquet of your favorite flowers and scratched the back of his head, avoiding eye contact.

“Sergeant Barnes,” You smiled. Bucky looked to you, and he’d never seen or heard anything as beautiful. He had heard you say his name a thousand time over, but hearing it in person was just swell.

“Bucky’s jus’ fine, senator,” Bucky returned a toothy grin. You swear you had died and gone to heaven. He was even more beautiful in person.

“Bucky,” There was a shine in your eyes when you said his name. His name sounded so pretty coming from your mouth.

“O-kay,” Winnie chuckled and their eyes bounced between yourself and the soldier, who was just a few feet away from them. “I’ll be back tomorrow to hash out the details,” They turned to look at you and gave you a small peck on your head. “Be careful,” It was a warning.

Bucky stepped into the room, allowing Winnie to easily slip out.

Now that the blood and dirt had been washed out, Bucky could truly admire how striking you were. You were glowing. There were still bruises and healing wounds but they didn’t diminish your beauty.

He set the flowers on the visitor’s chair.

“I wanted to properly thank you and Mr. Wilson for saving my life,” You told him. He took a few more steps towards you. “W-Winnie has a press conference planned once I’m discharged, and there might be a Medal of Freedom in your future, after the Congressional Gold Medal, of course,”

“What?”

“Yeah,” You smiled. “It took a little bit of convincing but the bastard caved eventually,”

Of course you had recommended him, and Sam, for such prestigious awards. It was further proof that he had been vindicated from the dark part of his history. You helped profoundly in his path to finally accepting himself, and for that, he would always love you.

When the nightmares returned, Bucky would rewatch your old speeches for the campaign to pardon him. He felt pathetic — having to listen to a woman he had never met before passionately advocate for his freedom in order to feel better. You saw him as human, worthy of forgiveness.

“I know they’re practically worthless in the age of superheroes, but I thought I would be nice,”

It would be nice. “Thank you,” His smile slowly faded as the conversation took a serious turn. “For everything, the campaign and the pardon and now these medals,” A breathy chuckle escaped. “I...you never attended the ceremony,” He commented on your absence during his pardon. It had plagued his mind for countless nights.

“I wasn’t invited,” You chuckled at the irony of it — having spent months working for his freedom only to not be present to watch it happen. “A picture leaked of me at a protest in college and they thought it would be too controversial for me to attend,” You shrugged it off.

Ensuring Bucky’s freedom was all that mattered. Your acknowledgement was not important to you in the greater scope of things.

“I’ll make sure you get invited this time,” Maybe you could give a speech before he’s awarded the medal. He could finally be present to hear you praise him.

Bucky’s eyes lingered on your lips. Your nervousness returned. There was a distinct look in his eyes that terrified and excited you all the same.

“Senator, time for your medication,” A nurse entered the room and pushed a cart with her. There was an IV set, some pills, and a cup of water on the cart and all that medicine made Bucky feel anxious.

He was well aware of the dangers of so much medicine and he was scared. He couldn’t afford to lose you now. Not when he finally has you within his grasp.

“The pills help with the pain and the IV gives me nutrients,” You noted the panicked look on Bucky’s face when he saw the cart. “Or so they claim,” You looked at the nurse, who was not entertained by your accusatory comment.

“I should head out,” Bucky nodded. “And allow your drugs to be administered in peace,” You laughed, and he was quite proud of that.

Feeling bolder, Bucky took a few final steps toward you. You offered your hand and he lightly held your wrist, stilled bruised, and bowed down to kiss your hand. It was a small and sweet gesture, but it left you an absolute mess. You held your breath and felt your heart in your throat.

Bucky admired you once more before leaving the room. He nearly memorized how you radiated in spite of the harsh cold white light that illuminated the hospital. In that moment, he was certain you’d be his.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #marvel imagine #winter solider x y/n #marvel one shot

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robotslenderman · 4 years ago

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I have Thoughts on engaging bigots, inspired by this Reddit thread. Not the article itself, but a quote from it:

Before any attempt at “unity” [with Trump voters] can be made, there needs to be a reckoning, an acknowledgment that so many of Trump’s actions have been unconscionable and do not align with societal ideals that claim to value all life. Building bridges with people who share Trump’s views sends a clear message that you are willing to keep the peace at the expense of the dignity and well-being of those with less power and privilege.

This is key.

When an allo person tells me to be kind to aphobes, they are telling me that I should put myself through pain, humiliation, trauma and emotional abuse.

When a white person tells a PoC to be kind to racists, they're asking the PoC to put themselves through pain, humiliation, trauma and emotional abuse.

This goes for every majority that tells a minority it's their job to be kind to bigots.

This is not the minority's job.

It is the ally's job to do the emotional labour of working with the bigot with patience and understanding, with a caveat:

They must walk the line of doing it in a way that clearly condemns the bigotry and upholds the dignity of the minority they are defending.

What do you know? You can do BOTH! You can reach out and educate kindly AND do it in a way that supports minorities instead of enabling bigotry!

Make it clear what they're doing is not okay, but try to do it in a way that shows a little compassion, if only to avoid reinforcing their persecution complex so that they're more likely to change their minds over the long term. If only to avoid them seeking that same compassion from other bigots.

I am female.

I don't want allies to tell misogynists to go fuck themselves. I don't begrudge it from other women or myself, because we have to protect ourselves, but allies don't have that excuse.

The goal of a true ally is to root out bigotry, and nobody ever stopped being a bigot because they got shouted to death. By shouting down misogyny instead of disarming it, the ally is taking the easy way out and doing it in a way that reinforces it in the long term by reinforcing the misogynist's belief that they are being victimised. The ally is trying to make themselves look good at the expense of women.

We have the right to defend ourselves in whatever means we have to. Do not make the mistake of thinking that an ally attacking someone is at all the same.

This is a sin I have committed many times. But the truth is, unravelling bigotry and banishing it is long term work. The short term satisfaction of an ally telling a bigot to go fuck themselves is overshadowed by the fact that the bigot will seek out validation in places that are far more malicious to women than the ally.

"Hey, I understand you're worried a woman will falsely accuse you of rape, but in reality only a very small percentage of actual rapists are ever convicted, and a lot of rape survivors report being isolated and not believed."

This is a statement that does two things - it acknowledges the misogynist's genuine fear of the harm they perceive women to be capable of, which goes a long way, while defusing it with truth.

Will the bigot instantly stop being one? Of fucking course not. This is long term, this is hard work. It is exhausting, not rewarding. This is about planting a seed and reducing the necessity the bigot feels of seeking out other bigots for acknowledgement of their false fear. This shows the bigot that their opinion is not okay, but in a way that they are more likely to be responsive to.

That is a discussion that would traumatise women to have, or more likely reinforce existing trauma.

This is where allies come in. I am a minority in some ways, an ally in others. One thing we can do as allies is show the patience and understanding that would exhaust or traumatise minorities to have to display for themselves. That way, we can plant seeds that are more likely to come to fruition over the long term instead of feeding the feeling of persecution within the bigot.

But again - it must not come at the expense of the minority. If you show too much compassion or understanding you risk reinforcing their bigoted views. The intention is to show that yes, we acknowledge that you have are afraid, we are not ignoring your fear, but what you're doing is still not okay despite that fear.

I believe that most bigotry comes from fear and ignorance, not genuine malice. I don't think that most men who promote more men than women actually hate women or think we're incompetent, I think he does it because it's what he's been conditioned to do without thinking twice. I think he's been conditioned to be more critical of women than men, if you'll excuse my binary example. That's not hatred. That's just a problem he needs to fix.

But if another man shames him for hating women, does it help women more that that man now feels defensive? Or does it just make the "ally" feel better, feel morally superior, without actually putting in the work the ally could have done of showing the first man that he's promoting less capable people because he views women through a different lens he's been conditioned to have? The man who promoted the men over more capable women isn't reflecting on his actions, he's occupied by the fact someone thinks he's something he's not. That man "knows" he doesn't hate women, he just didn't think about what he's doing, and now he's being demonised for a motivation he truly doesn't have without being equipped with tools to dismantle his own biases.

I truly believe a lot of bigots have genuinely good intentions, but in the wrong direction. Many misogynists are genuinely afraid of us women and think they are truly doing the right thing by standing up for men, but their fault is in not sympathising with our fear. So when a man calmly explains rape statistics and how rare conviction for rape is to a misogynist afraid of women "crying rape", I appreciate it because he's defusing that fear in a way that shows that he wants to tackle the problem from his fear-based perspective without giving it enough understanding that the misogynist feels vindicated.

Let's say I'm in a group of people, and there's a misogynist and a male ally. The misogynist says something shitty.

If the male ally just tells the misogynist to go fuck himself and leave, it makes me afraid that the ally is just performing his allyship, that he just wants to look good to women. It makes me feel safer in the short term, yes - but am I really safer if that misogynist then goes to other misogynists and claims he's being victimised?

If the male ally says something like "hey, I understand that you (were just making a joke and wanted to make people laugh/are afraid that good fathers will lose their children to abusive mothers who will hurt the children/are worried your life will be ruined and you'll be helpless to stop it if a woman accuses you falsely of rape), but (your joke is really hurtful to women/this is caused by women being shoehorned into a role as mothers/many rape survivors say that they lost friends because people didn't believe them). I understand you had good intentions but what you said isn't okay and if you keep saying that then I don't want you to join us."

Then that accomplishes several things:

It validates the bigot's belief that they are someone with genuinely good intentions

It gives them a graceful "way out" of their bigotry, increasing the likelihood feel supported to bow out of it - "yeah, I did just want people to laugh but I guess it landed badly!" (Not great, but better than a double down.)

It shows support to women and upholds their dignity by acknowledging the remark's impact on them, and that the male ally isn't okay with it.

It makes the misogynist more likely to confide his misogyny in the future in someone who won't reinforce it, but will instead take it apart piece by piece without reinforcing any persecution complexes.

If the misogynist genuinely made a fuckup, they're not going to think that they're thought of as scum of the earth for a genuine mistake.

Will they always react graciously? No.

Is this guaranteed to show a positive short-term result? No.

Is there always a chance they'll go back to a bigoted echo chamber anyway to complain about how horrible the male ally was? Yes.

But damn, I'd be impressed with the ally for actually doing the emotional labour of reaching out to a bigot with kindness so that a woman doesn't have to.

I don't want bigots to be friends with only bigots, that just makes things worse for me later. I want bigots to be friends with my allies, not other bigots, because it means that one day that bigot can be an ally instead.

Is this a one size fits all solution? Fuck no. There is no one solution to discrimination and this certainly isn't it. This isn't about asspatting rapists, murderers, or people calling for violence. Punch the Nazi, kick the rapist, boycott that company. If someone doubles down even after you've shown good faith, that doesn't mean you should continue to give them an opportunity to gracefully back down when they're clearly not interested. Use your head, give them an opportunity, but acknowledge they might not take it.

But even people who might not show signs of listening today might be mulling over what you said later on. Slam the door if you have to, but let them know that they can knock again later. Better that you listen to this shit than the minority it will traumatise.

If you absolutely have to choose between being kind to a bigot and supporting minorities, always show support instead of kindness. But a lot of the time people think you have to choose one or the other when you don't actually have to, and this is reinforced by people who want to do what's easier. Emotional labour is HARD.

This is about allies actually doing the work of an ally over the long term by condemning bigoted actions in a way that shows that you, the person who did something harmful, are welcome among us as a person if you stop committing harmful actions. We don't have a problem with you, we have a problem with the thing you said or did. You're going to think we want nothing to do with you if we say you're a shitty person who hates women, but if we say you're a good intentioned person who fucked up, well, clearly we're okay with you just not the mistake you made.

Think of it as a carrot and stick approach. Us women venting or lashing out to defend ourselves is the stick. Allies are the carrot. Let us do the short term work of surviving and demanding. Let allies do the long term work of smoothing ruffled feathers and letting others know that they have nothing to fear from us.

Do the work so we don't have to hurt ourselves because you don't want to help us in a way that isn't as easy as telling someone to go to hell.

#Dusty has opinions #long post #sexism #bigotry #I'm gonna regret this hot take aren't I

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thecorteztwins · 5 years ago

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what are some under used marvel female characters youd love to see in the rpc?

HMMMOkay, so I’m trying to think OBJECTIVELY here and not just rattle off the female characters that I personally like, and more “I’m surprised that there’s not more blogs for this character, whether or not I personally am a fan” ....because I missed the “you’d love to see in the RPC” bit because I’m dumb, and then I wrote this whole list without regards for that part. So this came out as less “female characters I personally want” (who would all be stupidly obscure and irrelevant anyway) and more “female characters I think the RPC should give some more love to, whether I personally am into them or not”:Definitely ALL the girls in the New Mutants and Generation X! I see a fair few blogs for Magik and Jubilee, but I really don’t see any for the others. I get why Magik is going to be more popular---she’s in more stuff, she’s currently much more relevant in the comics, and her backstory is so goddamn compelling---but that doesn’t mean the others shouldn’t have ANY blogs out there. Wolfsbane, Magma, Karma, and Moonstar are all extremely complex and compelling characters with their own struggles and triumphs too, and I think they deserve just as much love. Likewise, I get why Jubilee will naturally get more blogs than Husk, Monet, and Penance (depending if you count Penny as a separate character or not...) due to her being in more stuff, having bigger arcs, etc. But it still surprises there’s NO blogs around for those ladies! I know there was that Monet blog awhile ago, and @badmusesdoitwell had an Amara that’s now part of their multimuse, as well as a Rahne, but that’s still nowhere near enough love in the RPC for these Junior X-Ladies, in my opinion. Speaking of Generation X, I’m also a bit surprised no one has picked Cordelia Frost up, given that we’ve got plenty of background canon for her via Emma’s history yet Cordelia herself has LOTS of room to go nuts with headcanons, like it’s just the perfect opportunity! And I’m sure lots of Emma blogs, of which there are MANY, would love their little sister around for some family threads. Fuck, I would pick her up myself if I were more into Emma and the Frost family as a whole. She’s hardly the most relevant, recent, or even interesting character around, she’s done very little and shown up very briefly, but the fact she’s related to Emma Frost makes me think SOMEONE would have an interest in her.Madelyne Pryor, for sure. Like, I love Maddy, but it’s not just my favoritism talking here. I think she’s pretty decently well-known in the comics fandom, and she’s a tragic villain, which usually pulls people in big-time. She’s got a grudge against the good guys, and it’s actually more legitimate than most, which I’d think would also attract people, since a lot of villains fans like to blame the good guys no matter what and THEY’D ACTUALLY HAVE A GOOD ARGUMENT HERE? Plus she has very strong connections to other, more popular canons, with a ton of fodder for angst and drama threads, which people just LOVE. I have seen a few Maddy blogs pop up in the past, and I always get so excited, but they never seem to last very long :CDr. Moira MacTaggert deserves ALL the love and respect in the world/fandom! She’s been a staunch supporter of mutants since day one, she’s a total badass, she’s super smart, she calls Xavier out on his shit ALL THE TIME, she’s the survivor of an abusive husband, she had to make terrible choices about her son that no mother should ever have to and then live with the consequences of those choices, and SHE GOES AFTER A KELPIE WITH A GODDAMN MACHINE GUN! She’s been a part of the X-Men comics for such a long time, and is very significant in them, it really surprises me that I’ve never seen a blog for her besides just ONE and it was for the XMCU sexy American CIA agent Moira, who is NOT Moira in my book and NEVER WILL BE. Speaking of, Moira will ALWAYS be human to me, I think making her a mutant all along REALLY undermines a big part of her character as just an unyielding mutant ally. Though I think her being human, combined with being an older female who isn’t anyone’s love interest (unless she’s, gasp, getting in the way of CHERIK aka the ultimate fandom sin how dare she the harlot -.-), is probably WHY she’s so damn ignored -.-Frenzy hasn’t been in THE most recent stuff, but she’s still been relevant recent enough that I think one or two blogs around would have happened if she weren’t black. Yeah, I hate to be THIS person, but any black character who isn’t Storm doesn’t get love, for all that the RPC likes to yell about being diverse and progressive. Remember all the Captain America and Iron Man and Hulk and Quicksilver blogs that popped up after their movies? Yeah I saw like ONE T’challa blog after Black Panther came out. Then again, I’ve yet to see blogs for Pixie or Firestar either, who are white, and I feel like they both were fairly interesting and well-known in fandom? Same for the Academy X girls like Sofia Mantega, Mercury, and Wallflower. Luna Maximoff FOR SURE. It SHOCKS me I haven’t see more than a couple short-lived blogs around for her, just given her family connections. Now, I don’t think a character deserves love just because of who they’re related to---in fact it annoys me when a characters gets a ton of attention and it’s very obviously just for that---but Luna has SO MUCH going on? The problems between her parents, her mother being absent so much, her father exposing her to the Mists, dealing with her powers, being a child of two very different worlds and cultures, it just goes on and on. Luna has had to grow up so fast, she’s such a strange and stoic child as a result, and though her situation is very fantastical, having to be the mature one at an early age because all the adults in your life won’t be is something a lot of people have to cope with and I think would find relatable; I especially love how she lives in this world where there’s no bad guys, like neither Crystal nor Pietro were the villains in her situation, just hurting messed up people, which she also recognized in Magneto and maybe also even Maximus . And there’s so much that could be explored with her too that hasn’t been in canon yet---for instance, her choice to identify with her Inhuman heritage and why that is, and the journey of identifying with your heritage but also looking at the horrible things in their history, I think that’s a story that a LOT of people from MANY backgrounds can relate to. It surprises and frustrates me that both writers and fandom don’t really seem to care about her or remember she exists; one the only two blogs I ever saw for her seriously got someone asking them “why would you make such a weird OC” like SERIOUSLY! Luna needs more love, big time. Any female Avenger that’s not Wanda or Natasha. I don’t read Avengers, I’m just an X-Men fan, but I know they exist and they shouldn’t have to be in a movie to get love. Ditto for She-Hulk, I’m not a Hulk reader but I know she’s a prominent character who has been around a long time and has a very developed personality and stories of her own, yet I’ve only ever seen her on @getreadytosmash‘s multi. I’ve also never really read Alpha Flight, but its main ladies ---Snowbird, Aurora, Vindicator---all seem awesome in their own different ways. Alpha Flight isn’t very popular to begin with, of course, so I don’t expect them to have as many blogs as, say, major X-ladies, but I think one apiece or so would be very justified.KWANNON!! I actually get why we didn’t have any blogs for her BEFORE now, because we knew NOTHING about her, she was just a very tragic prop for Betsty’s body-swap plot and a way to give her insta-ninja-skills, but now she’s come back and has HER OWN NEW SERIES in which we’re finally learning who she is and her background, I hope to see a blog or two around for her eventually!Destiny aka Irene Adler. Like. Do I even need to explain WHY? I think people just don’t want to play an OLD woman, especially one whose primary/only ship is going to be with another woman.Maaaaybe Clea Strange? I don’t know shit about her, never read Dr. Strange, but like, people make blogs for Sigyn literally just because she’s Loki’s wife, and Clea at least seems to like...DO stuff? IDK, not sure on this on, but figured I’d make an honorable mention.Siryn, Boom Boom, and Dr. Cecilia Reyes are all X-Ladies that I really don’t know much about. Like I know basic things like their powers but I don’t know their story arcs and such. But as with Clea and the Avengers ladies and She-Hulk, I just have a HUNCH there’s a lot there getting ignored by fans.Silhouette Chord is a longtime member of The New Warriors, and, like Alpha Flight, New Warriors doesn’t really have a fanbase on Tumblr to speak of, so it’s not surprising to me she’s not got any love here. And even within the pages of her own comics, she’s generally pushed aside, underused, and underdeveloped compared to the other characters, generally more a prop for her boyfriend’s stories than anything else. But she DOES have a personality, a REALLY cool backstory, and she’s like...look, the RPC claims to love diversity and representation and all that, right? Silhouette is a mixed-race WOC (half Black, half Cambodian, and I have NEVER seen another Marvel character of Cambodian heritage who wasn’t connected to her) who is also very visibly physically disabled, her legs are completely paralyzed and she is never without her braces/crutches, yet she still fights PHYSICALLY (something very rare for physically disabled characters, they usually are more like Oracle or Prof X) and is depicted in a sexual relationship, and there’s never any kind of fuss or angst about it or anything treating her as delicate or less than or anything like that. She’s just completely adjusted to it in a way that’s very rare in media. And like I said, she’s not a flat character, I’m not saying she should be more popular just for ticking off the diversity boxes, she manages to be really intriguing to me despite how little focus the writers give her, and I think that she and the other New Warrior girls (Firestar and Namorita) have a lot to offer the RPC. But I have to give a special shoutout to Sil since she’s my fave, as the neglected ones alway are.Meggan Puceanu is probably most familiar to folks here as Kurt’s love interest in Age of X, but she’s been around since the 80s. She’s a longtime member of Excalibur, and she’s just...fascinating. She’s a Romanichal mutant (though often hinted to have magical/mystical heritage too, perhaps fairy like Pixie) who has empathic, elemental, and shapeshifting capabilities. However, her empathic and shapeshifting tend to overlap, so she changes her form (and her mind) according to the feelings, fears, and desires of others. So for instance, there’s this one time where a group of men are checking her out, and she feels that “They love me...I want...to love them in return!” and she morphs into this sexxed-up version of hersef on the spot. This isn’t played for kinkiness or laughs either; Meggan’s identity struggles are a HUGE part of her character. She has no idea who she is because her powers make her reflect and respond to the feelings of others around her, internally and externally. She doesn’t even know what she actually really LOOKS like because of this; her powers were present since birth, causing her to grow fur instantly as an infant due to it being winter. This caused her parents to keep her locked up in the camper trailer, where she was raised alone with the TV (she’s also illiterate, which causes her to feel dumb a lot) and as more and more people around her spread rumors about the monstrous child inside, she psychically absorbed those beliefs and her physical form changed to reflect them, making her more and more monstrous as she got older. She didn’t know she was a shapeshifter, she just really thought she was a hideous monster. And even when she found out the truth, she STILL didn’t know what she really looked like, as the beautiful form she took on (basically Pamela Anderson with elf ears) was to please her boyfriend Captain Britain (whom she is really unhealthily dependent on starting out because of her situation)Meggan is insecure, she doesn’t know who she is, she has to cling to a man in order to have anything because no one else has ever loved her, she easily becomes jealous of other women near him, she gets made fun of for being a bimbo and she often feels she is because she can’t read or understand “clever words” due to her isolated upbringing...and she gets through this! She develops! She becomes STRONGER and she becomes SECURE and she gains CONTROL of her powers and SHE KICKS ASS and she FORMS AN IDENTITY! And then Meggan SACRIFICED HER LIFE to buy time for Captain Britain, Psylocke, and Rachel Summers to repair the tear in reality caused by House of M. She ends up lost between dimensions and TRAPPED IN HELL, where she uses her empathy to rally the lesser demons against THE LORDS OF HELL ITSELF and wages a war IN HELL for which her demon followers dub her “Gloriana” and she forms a sanctuary there called “Elysium” where souls can escape torment! AND THEN SHE FINDS HER WAY HOME!THIS WOMAN KICKED ASS IN HELL AND WON!! Like she just goes through SUCH an arc, and I admit I have not read it myself yet, she’s on my list of characters to read EVERYTHING on and I’m still only familiar with her very insecure Excalibur days (which I love a lot, I just feel so much for Meggan and her struggles, I think she’s very much a reflection of a LOT of real-world issues, ranging from mental illnesses to just EXISTING as a woman) but I already have a ton of feelings about her and I think she’s more than prominent and accomplished enough to merit more attention in the RPC. And this is less of an “actually has reasons the RPC should love her” character, because really there’s no reason they should, she’s not prominent or relevant or or anything, but more an interesting “did you know”---did you know there was a “young female Wolverine clone” in the comics BEFORE Laura Kinney? Avery Connor! She pre-dates Laura by a year and has a VERY similar story, yet she never took off in popularity and very few people know her. You can read about her HERE on my Marvel blog. Again, would not say there’s actually any reason she’s earned love from the RPC like, say, Meggan or Luna, but I just thought I’d toss that in as a tidbit for the Logan family fans, as I know there are many.(Also, cheating because these are dudes, but: I’m not a Banshee fan but I am surprised I’ve never seen a blog for him, nor for Sunfire. Or for 616 Pyro. Or...)

#marvel #marvel rpc #xmen #x men #out of cortez #shattered-catalyst

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gveret-fic · 6 years ago

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“Lena, you will not believe what Mon-el just said to me,” Kara fumed as she barged into Lena’s dorm room.

“Kara, I could have been changing,” Lena said mildly, taking off her glasses and putting a big textbook aside. "I could've had someone over."

Kara took a break from her fury to note how entirely adorable Lena looked like this, sloppy and studious and comfortable. "That's never happened before," she pointed out unthinkingly.

Lena visibly bristled. "It could happen, you don't know," she muttered.

“I’m sorry, you're totally right, I should’ve texted, I know, but, this just keeps happening to me and I really wanted to see you,” Kara explained in a rush.

“Slow down,” Lena said, purposely calm. “What keeps happening?”

Kara gestured indistinctly with her hands. “These—these guys that I thought were my friends wanting to—wanting something else from me!”

“Get in here.” Lena reached out to her until Kara took a few more steps into her room. “Mon-el said something to you?”

Kara nodded.

“Kara, I need you to be honest with me, and I swear to god if you act all coy, ‘aw shucks it's no biggie’ I will leave my own room,” Lena said very seriously. “Is he—is anyone making you feel unsafe?”

Lena's shoulders were tight, fists tucked in her lap, jaw visibly struggling not to clench. She looked absolutely ready to grab a man by the front of his tacky nylon jacket and throw down. And Kara knew for a fact that Lena Luthor had never thrown a punch in her life, got winded climbing a single flight of stairs, had in fact weaseled her way into a P.E. exemption in high school, but—alien constitution or no—Kara was pretty sure she'd never felt this well protected in her life.

“Aw, come here.” Kara kicked off her sneakers, hopped onto Lena’s bunk and held her arms wide open, and Lena still looked tense and a little scary, but she folded herself into Kara’s embrace, so easily, so naturally, that Kara felt a thrilling little pang in her chest.

“This is not an answer to my question,” Lena said grumpily, wiggling her hip closer to Kara’s body.

Kara held her tight and flopped onto her back on the bed, dragging Lena along. She looked up at the bottom of Lena’s cool but mean roommate’s bunk and considered her question seriously. “James has always made me feel really safe,” she said. “More than safe. Um, serene, I guess. It’s really my fault that our relationship kinda fell apart.”

She could feel Lena get all bunched up in her arms, probably on the verge of a fiery rebuttal, and she laughed. “Okay, okay, no self-recrimination in your presence, I remember.”

Lena hmphed. “I’m fine with you taking responsibility, but I won’t be party to this flagrant defamation.”

Kara stole a glance at her. Lena’s jaw was twitching again, her mouth pinched, and she’d clenched one hand in the hem of Kara’s sweatshirt. Just, impossibly endearing.

“Okay,” Kara said. “I’m just saying, James is one thing. But then Winn, who’s been, you know, I’ve known him almost as long as I’ve been here, and I guess I leaned on him a lot, emotionally. And then he kissed me, and told me he loved me, and he was—he was a little insistent. And he was so hurt after.”

“His feelings are not your responsibility.”

“Rationally, I know that. But looking at your friend and seeing him so sad, so… despondent. I felt like such a horrible person.”

“Kara.” Lena twisted her hand tighter in Kara’s shirt, looking at her with hypnotic intensity. It caused an interesting reaction in Kara’s belly. “You are the least horrible person I have ever met. Can you hear me? I’m telling you something very important right now. I want you to take this great wisdom to heart.”

Kara laughed. “Thanks, Lena. Maybe if I was a little more horrible, all of my friends wouldn’t fall in love with me all the time,” she said. “And now, this!” She gestured at Lena’s room, as if it embodied Mon-el somehow. Fortunately, nothing could be further from the truth.

Lena rolled her eyes dramatically. Kara wanted nothing more than to move into this bed with her forever.

“You know my thoughts on… that man,” Lena said.

Kara sighed. “I just wish I could have a close friendship with guys where we can hug and I can compliment them and tell them I love them and stuff without them reading into every little thing.” Kara realized she'd been incorporating an increasing number of Lena's limbs into their cuddle, and Lena's muscles had relaxed considerably in response. A swell of deep affection hit her. “Like with you.”

“Mm hm.” Lena turned her head away.

“Do you think I'm being unrealistic?”

Lena immediately whipped back to glare at her. “Absolutely not,” she scolded. “Your friend standards are abominably low, if anything. You deserve to have an affectionate, reciprocal relationship where your boundaries are respected unconditionally, Kara.”

Kara was hit with a strange urge to nuzzle Lena's face with her own face. Just a little.

It felt really, really nice. “I do have that,” she mumbled. “With you.”

Lena stiffened in her arms. On instinct, Kara dipped one hand under Lena’s shirt to caress her stomach, intending to soothe, but Lena jumped beneath her touch and whimpered, heart rate picking up alarmingly.

Kara promptly let go and crawled away, rolling into a sitting position.

In front of her, Lena curled into herself a little. It made her look smaller.

Kara’s heart clenched. “Are you okay?” Her voice came out too high and uneven. “I'm so sorry, you're talking so much sense about boundaries and here I am overstepping yours.”

Lena made an unintelligible sound in her throat. “You're not,” she said, but she sounded almost pained. “I'm just uptight.”

“I’m really sorry,” Kara repeated miserably. “Do you want me to leave?”

“No, I—just give me a second.”

Kara willed her body not to move, her cells not to vibrate so loudly. She tucked her hands beneath her butt and listened as Lena’s heartbeat slowly evened out.

Lena took in a deep breath and let out an embarrassed little laugh. “Please excuse the dramatics,” she said, rolling onto her back. “You can hold me again. If you want.”

Kara did not literally jump at the opportunity. But she might have bounced a little.

Despite the distressing episode, Lena fit back into Kara’s arms like she belonged there.

Kara batted away the thought. Boundaries.

“I’m sorry,” Kara told her again. “I just really wanted to touch you just then.”

Lena made that strange noise again. “That’s—that’s fine. I mean, I’m fine with it. I mean—” She rubbed her hand over her face, and said, slightly muffled, “I liked it.”

“You did?”

Lena let out a harsh breath. “Kara—” She dropped her hand, looked at Kara for a moment, and shook her head. “Ah, fuck it. Tell me about Mon-el.”

Kara’s outrage flared anew at the reminder. “He just confronted me in the middle of the hallway! With a bunch of his friends around!” Lena was wearing a very vindicating scowl. Kara felt emboldened to go on. “And he was saying all these ridiculous things! He said I always looked at him like I was fascinated by everything he had to say, as if friends are supposed to not listen to each other when they talk. I like listening to my friends talk. That’s one of the perks of being friends! I wasn’t, like, giving him moon eyes or anything.”

Lena was directing a perfect impression of smitten doe eyes at her, and Kara snorted. “Yeah, exactly. Like that.”

“What?” Lena blinked rapidly and looked away.

“And then he said that, even though he ‘knows’ I’m a ‘generally reserved’ person, I can’t help touching him in small ways whenever I’m around him. Which, first of all, I do that with everyone I like! And even if I didn’t, the way I act around him is the only way he can observe my way of acting in the first place, so how would he know!” Kara gestured with Lena’s hand in hers for emphasis, though she wasn’t entirely sure when they’d linked hands.

“Right,” said Lena.

“And he claimed that he was the one I always came to when I wanted to complain about something,” Kara continued. “I haven’t even complained to him that much! He’s not a good complainee. Complaineree? Complaining buddy. He barely listens and then he gives bad advice.”

“Shocker.”

“Anyway, you’re always the first person I want to complain to,” Kara finished affectionately. “Exhibit A.” She nudged Lena’s knee with her toe, and immediately wanted to nudge her again. Or run her toe along Lena’s leg. Or something. But she didn’t.

Boundaries.

Lena frowned. “I think it was manipulative of him to corner you publically like that, where it would be harder for you to explicitly reject him or escape the situation.”

Kara nodded. “And that’s before he went in for the kiss!”

Lena’s whole body went rigid, her hand flexing in Kara’s. “He what?”

“I was trying to be gentle, so he must not have noticed the cues I was giving. But that really came out of nowhere! Even if he hadn’t realized I wasn’t interested, he should’ve at least understood that it wasn’t a smoochy mood.”

Lena scooched forward until their noses were almost touching and placed her hand on Kara’s shoulder. “Kara, tell me honestly,” she said, voice lowered. “And take this offer seriously, because if you want me to, I can.”

Kara’s breath felt stuck suddenly. A few wispy strands of hair had been dislodged from Lena’s bun and now sloppily framed her face. Her eyelashes were very pretty. Kara nodded silently.

“Do you want me to get Mon-el kicked off campus?” Lena asked intently.

Kara was going to laugh, she was reasonably sure. She was going to laugh or she was going to grin or certainly she was going to say something. But she didn’t. She didn’t do that.

What she did, did do was close that unimaginable, insignificant distance between them—a gentle tilt of her chin, that was really all it took—and brush her lips across Lena’s perfect, tender, darling mouth.

For a blessed, unreal moment, all Kara could register was softness, and feeling, and warmth. And then she realized—Lena had frozen entirely, her body and her breath, except for her heart which was skidding in a cadence that clearly screamed displeasure.

Kara scrambled off the bed, hand flying to cover her mouth.

“Oh, my gosh,” she cried. “I've been the presumptuous friend inappropriately in love with their platonic pal all along!”

Lena stared at her for an agonizing moment, then buried her head in her hands and let out a very loud, prolonged groan. “Every other word in that sentence was the precise opposite of the truth,” she said crisply when she emerged.

Kara stopped pulling on her hair to eloquently inquire, “Huh?”

“Kara, I want to raise corn on a farm with you,” Lena said, improbably earnest. “Wake up at the ass crack of dawn and brush down the herd of goats you’ve named after boy band members from the nineties. I want to cook homebred breakfast for twelve just for you and watch the sunrise tinge your hair orange. I want to wear ugly boots and work pants with eight discrete pockets and get caked in mud up to my thighs every day. Do you get what I’m saying?”

“I—no?”

Lena, bafflingly, smiled in evident pleasure. “That’s all right. That was a long shot.” She gave an excited, hiccupy little laugh. “Let me put it like this: you’re not presumptuous, and you’re not inappropriate. And I certainly do not have to be your platonic pal if you don’t want that.”

“You mean—?”

“I love you, Kara,” Lena said briskly, like she was reading off a shopping list. “I’m in lesbian love with you. I have romantic ulterior motives for you. I want to be more than friends with you. I want to date you. I want to kiss you. I want to taste—”

Kara went down on her knees and cupped Lena’s face and pulled her down and kissed her again, this time with intention.

Lena’s lips, startled, were soft and delicate. Lena’s lips, reciprocal, were firm, insistent, demanding, heady.

Kara felt like she could get drunk off of them. She felt like she could be sustained by the flavor and texture and movement of Lena’s lips and tongue and mouth alone. She could coast on this feeling and reach the sky without bothering to fly.

She was in love with her best friend. How cool was that?

Lena sucked on her lip and let go with a graze of teeth.

Oh. Kara felt drunk already.

“Cool,” she breathed, and Lena laughed. “Me too.”

Lena slid off the bed to kneel beside her and kissed her again, slow and simple, steady pressure and gentle suction, running a knuckle along Kara’s jaw. Kara shivered, electrified.

“I can’t believe four out of four platonic friends agree,” Lena said, ducking her head and laughing soundlessly against Kara’s throat, “Kara Danvers is the bee’s knees.”

Kara giggled helplessly. “Shut up!”

Lena kissed where her mouth was, right beside Kara’s jugular. “I’m so sorry, Kara, you’re simply irresistible.”

“Lena,” Kara whined.

“Clearly marriage material.” She caught the delicate, invulnerable skin there between her teeth.

“So, all that farm stuff…?”

Lena shrugged, and continued sucking on Kara’s neck. “We’ll work up to that.”

Kara didn’t mention it, unwilling to ruin the mood, but she thought Kal at least would be very pleased.

#warning for unwanted kisses and mon el #supercorp #my fic #hearticho #whew this was fun!! thank you!

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carnistcervine · 5 years ago

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Avatar Azula AU(Concept)

I say concept, because at the moment, I have no intention to write this. It was just a fun thought experiment. (But I mean if any of ya’ll like it, you’re welcome to use it :’D)

Here's my interpretation of Azula being the Avatar.

-First things, first. My poor bby Aang must die. ;^; Yes, it is mighty sad, but the Avatar is a reincarnating shithead, so there can only be one at a time(AUs notwithstanding wink wonk). I imagine that he still runs away, because him dying with the Air Nomads would include the chance that he dies in the avatar state... But when he is thrown underwater by the storm, instead of going into the avatar state to save himself, he just drowns with Appa. :c There is a water Avatar, but she is disowned by her village for firebending and dies alone and afraid. Then the earth Avatar after her is born into obscurity and dies from a plague. (Or basically just, two other Avatars are born and fail to stop the Fire Nation before they eventually die) When Azula is born, there has been no confirmed Avatar for a century.

-From a young age, Azula knew she was the Avatar. How? The past Avatars, not wishing for the Fire Nation to corrupt or kill their newest incarnation attempt to consul her and sway her to their side. She does not listen to them, and at first dismisses them as nothing more than her imagination. Her first ability as an Avatar is the ability to: splash water and startle the turtle-ducks. She tells her father of her ability in confidence, hoping to gain his favor. It works! Kinda... Ozai views his children as tools for him to use, and what better than an obedient Avatar daughter? However, he always keeps in the back of his mind, the story of how Roku, the last fire Avatar, nearly killed Sozin. So Ozai keeps an order at the ready, to execute Azula if she ever shows any inkling of treachery. Ozai also uses his Avatar daughter to gain an in with Azulon. Ozai has the Avatar under his control, he may be of use to Azulon after all.

-So rather than killing the remaining captured waterbenders, Azulon keeps them for training his granddaughter. He also sends out soldiers and scouts to capture earthbending masters, and find any air scrolls. Seeing as, Sozin's lack of foresight means the fire Avatar doesn't have an air master to learn from.

-I know that the traditional idea is that Azula's a prodigy, so she must be a prodigy at all elements right? :'D Yeaaaaaahhhhhh, about that... Azula is a firebending prodigy, and very determined. Now, determination is a great thing to have when trying to master any discipline, but Azula lacks the right mindset to master the other elements. She has the drive and will to dominate opponents that makes her a great (corrupt)firebender. In fact the reason she excels in the corrupted firebending style is because she perfectly embodies the drive to crush and destroy others. She's like Zhao, if Zhao had some fucking self-control(and intelligence). However, the other elements do not submit to domination. Air requires freedom, Azula is not free. She is very much under the oppressive thumb of her father and fully within his control. Water requires adaptability and a willingness to bend and flow with change. While Azula is a great strategist, who can adapt her fighting strategies on the fly, she lacks the mental and spiritual fluidity to control water. Azula is rigid in her ways and does not flow. A good example of this being how she broke down completely when her world changed. And I know that traditionally the Avatar has the most difficulty with their opposite element, I feel like she would have the most dificulty with earth. Earth requires stability, and even some stubbornness to control. Azula is most definitely not stable. Her mental and spiritual foundations are shaky at best. Also, I would venture to say that Azula is not stubborn. She often gets what she wants, because she has the ability to dominate others into giving her what she wants. Power and intimidation do not equate to stubbornness. Rather than taking the bull by the horns, Azula would find another angle, and probably scare it off. This is particularly exemplified in her relationship with Ozai. She cannot stand her ground against Ozai, she already knows from Zuko that doing so would earn her a face full of fire. So Azula has two options, intimidate others into following her along, or stand down and admit she's weaker. She's powerful enough that she can overpower(or at least believes she can overpower) most opponents, but the one she feels she cannot, she immediately folds to.

*By contrast, I would like to point out why Aang was an overall bending protegy. He's a free spirit, which allows him to easily master air. He's very adaptable, and his teachings from the monks about pacifism gives him the perfect mindset to flow and seek out other pathways like water. Making him a natural at water as well. Also, there's the fact that he's adaptable enough that he takes on the role of Avatar without too much resistance. Despite his initial greivences. He isn't able to budge earth at all, until he learns to put his foot down. But again, he's open-minded enough that he's a quick study for adapting to other mindsets. He's determined enough to master all four elements in less than a year, so that alone gives him what it takes to take on fire.

*Katara and Toph are a good example of stubborn women. Katara knew she couldn't take down a waterbending master, but refused to back down. Toph's refusal to be helpless fuels her stubborn determination. In fact, she's so stubborn, that she stubborned her way into metal bending.

-Azula soon finds that unlike fire, the other elements will not submit to her will. The previous Avatars are completely unhelpful. They constantly rant in her head, scolding her or pleading for her to do the right thing. She initially tries to bite back, but there's far too many of them and they aren't intimidated by her. So eventually, she learns to tune them out. Their voices resolving to a constant, dull roar in the back of her head. Like a headache that won't cease. Forced to face the fact that she is not perfect, and steadily loosing her father's good grace, Azula's grip on her sanity steadily loosens. As her mental state declines, she starts to see the ghostly forms of the past Avatars haunting her in the background. Their faces are stern, lips set into a thin line. When Ozai realizes that Azula cannot master the four elements, he calls her a failure and dismisses her. Soon after that, Ursa joins the other Avatars, watching her from the background, face soaked in pity rather than contempt. Azula breaks.

-Seeing as Azula can no longer be used as an in to claim the throne, Ozai tosses his daughter aside and opts to have her imprisoned and executed.

-Azula cannot believe that her own father completely turned against her like this. At first, she's deeply hurt and nearly unable to do anything. Then, she's angry. How DARE Ozai abandon her, his own loyal daughter. All the sacrifices she made for him, and he tosses her aside like yesterday's leftovers. She starts to rebuild herself, using her desire for revenge against Ozai as the base. Seeing an opportunity, the past Avatars open up to Azula and help her escape.

-Zuko is completely shook by Azula's downfall. She was Ozai favorite, the golden child. And he just tossed her aside when she stopped being useful to him. Zuko starts to doubt his father. But it isn't until Ozai burns his face and banishes him, sending him to track down his sister, that Zuko finally accepts that his father is an awful, unpleasable man.

-Iroh joins Zuko on his Avatar quest, not to capture Azula, but to join her. They want to help her take down Ozai.

-The past Avatars lead Azula to the Order of the White Lotus. Azula isn't thrilled to be surrounded by kooky old people, and has no interest in being a creature of balance. But taking out Ozai sounds mighty delicious, so she's willing to play along. She also has no interest in the Fire Nation's conquest or war machine, she used to only care about pleasing Ozai, and now she only cares about killing him. Painfully.

-She learns the other three elements as she recovers from Ozai's abuse. Now that she has cut her ties to her father, she is free and masters air. Without the strict regime of her nation looming over her head, she slowly begins to open her mind and masters water. She learns how to stand up for herself without putting others down and masters earth.

-Her initial relationship with the members of the White Lotus is very strained. It's basically the same energy of two cats staring each other down from across the room. As she recovers and starts to open her mind, their relationship improves and she becomes more of a salty/bitter, sass-talking companion.

-She'd never admit it, but she does slowly grow to love those stupid old people and her dum dum of a brother.

-As she slowly recovers, Azula starts to wonder if vengeance is the right path. She's quick to dismiss the thoughts of course, but it's an idea that lingers in her mind.

-On the day of the comet, she confronts Ozai and nearly hesitates at the look of pure fear in her father's eyes. Instead she looks away as she strikes the final blow. Finding that she's unable to look him in the eyes as she kills him. Ozai's death is swift and painless. Not the horrible death Azula originally imagined. Afterwards, Azula initially feels vindicated, then she feels hollow. On the surface she blames the past Avatars for softening her, but deep inside, she realizes that the true reason is because vengeance is empty. Also, she finds that now her fire has lost it's power. She lost the thing driving her, so now she must find another source for her flame.

-With Ozai gone, Zuko ascends the throne, with Iroh as his regent. Zuko tries to reconcile with his sister, but she blows him off and goes to re-master firebending in solitude.

-Ozai goes down gloriously in the history books, a martyr for his cause. Many try to rise up and follow in his footsteps, several attempt to challenge the throne. They're mysteriously picked off by an unknown assailant. (coughAzulacough)

#ATLA #Avatar #avatar the last airbender #Azula #AU #Avatar Azula AU #ATLA AU #My Take

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yourgodmoments · 5 years ago

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Christ’s Foot Soldiers

“Go therefore and make disciples of all the nations [help the people to learn of Me, believe in Me, and obey My words], baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe everything that I have commanded you…” Mt. 28:19, 20. AMP

Christ left all of us with this ‘Great Commission;’ yet, many of us feel awkward, ill-equipped, or we are afraid that we might fail in our attempt to position someone to enter the kingdom of God. I mean, that would be like failing God, wouldn’t it? Not! God only asks for our best efforts. He takes it from there.

However, it wouldn’t hurt to explore some ways to increase our kingdom efficiency. Obviously, in order to be persuasive, we must be living out our Christian principles to the best of our ability, in order to come from a place of authoritative instruction - leading by example:

“…let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.” Mt. 5:16 CSB

“Yet wisdom is vindicated and shown to be right by all her children [by the lifestyle, moral character, and good deeds of her followers].” Lk. 7:35 AMP

Having that wisdom also demands one to be facile with the scriptures, to be able to make their case for the necessity of salvation.

Along with our Christian professing, there must be an outpouring of love for everyone, i.e. all the ‘potentially saved,’ wrapped up in compassion, for the suffering of most of the world in the common human condition. We couple that with our faith in God, to equip us for any task He sets before us - through the Holy Spirit.

This is the [remarkable degree of] confidence which we [as believers are entitled to] have before Him: that if we ask anything according to His will, [that is, consistent with His plan and purpose] He hears us…we [also] know [with settled and absolute knowledge] that we have [granted to us] the requests which we have asked from Him. 1 Jn. 5:14, 15. AMP

You are literally saving lives. You can begin to do so by relating your life changes after having asked Jesus to be the Lord of it.

Finally, just like everything in our relationship with God, we must ask Him in prayer for our direction, to show us which field to plow and where to sow the seed, to fulfill His purpose in us. After all, we cannot accomplish much of anything without His help…

The most trepidation begins when we approach someone outside of church, yes? The best way to create a ‘bond’ is to find a common thread - the weather, conditions in your city, or offering compassion for any stressor the other might divulge, all the while offering solutions and performing acts of kindness.

Once you have established a rhythm, or even the beginnings of a friendship, you might even flat out ask him or her if they are a child of God. A door will open. You can tell them that you are a Christian, how that’s been beneficial, and what one must do to become one.

If they rebuke you, you can repeat back their objection and add, ‘I’ve heard that too, but I found out it wasn’t true.’ Ask the how they think we ‘got here’ on planet Earth, and where do they think we go when we die.’ At that point you can refer to scripture, asking if you can sit with them for a short time and share what you know about God, Jesus and the two types of eternal life - blessed or cursed.

Simultaneously, we can ask Jehovah God in our hearts, which of His words He would have us share in that moment. You only have one goal: to have this person accept Christ as their savior. Any other changes you think should be made, will be between Jesus and this newly saved soul. This is the time where we turn our egos off.

We let God do the talking by showing them the scriptures that demonstrate the ‘why:’

“…through His name everyone who believes in Him [whoever trusts in and relies on Him, accepting Him as Savior and Messiah] receives forgiveness of sins.” Acts 10:43 AMP

“Whoever believes in the Son has eternal life; whoever does not obey the Son shall not see life, but the wrath of God remains on him.” Jn. 3:36 ESV

“…the person who hears My word [the one who heeds My message], and believes and trusts in Him who sent Me, has (possess now) eternal life [that is, eternal life actually begins - the believer is transformed], and does not come into judgment and condemnation, but has passed [over] from death into life.” Jn. 5:24 AMP

Suppose you happen to come across someone who is totally noncommittal, doesn’t feel the need. Then, you have to show it to them:

There is certainly no one righteous on the earth who does good and never sins. Eccl. 7:20 CSB

…see the difference between the righteous and the wicked, between one who serves God and one who does not serve him. Mal. 3:18 CSB

For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord. Rm. 6:23 CSB

For God made Christ, who never sinned, to be the offering for our sin, so that we could be made right with God through Christ. 2 Cor. 5:21 NLT

“…you will die [unforgiven and condemned] in your sins; for if you do not believe that I am the One [I claim to be], you will die in your sins.” Jn. 8:24 AMP

God wants us to be His Son’s foot soldiers - marching forth and sharing the gospel. We can do that in so many ways - in thoughts and prayers, in the telling of His word, in actions, in listening, and being aware of our surroundings and events and discerning their purposes. We can ready ourselves to be in God’s service in every moment.

Disaster strikes. Ask yourself, ‘What is God’s lesson in this?’ Look to see how you can best serve the victims in this situation, (including yourself). Look at someone’s actions towards you. Are they unforgivable? Not! (Mt. 18:22). [Be advised that if the perpetrator is not safe to be around, forgive them from a distance.]

Pray for everyone and also for yourself, that you may be positioned to serve, to be the arms of God and use our five senses as well, to emulate the footsteps of His Son. Listen for opportunities to speak about the kingdom, to encourage others in life’s travails, celebrating their victories, and staying in the the word so that you may be able to recall those scriptures that apply for the benefit of yourself and for everyone you encounter.

If a communication breakdown occurs, don’t take it personally. Instead, look to see how you can clarify your words to bring greater understanding. Everyone you speak with has a different life experience in their head. Rather than reacting, ask them, ‘I know you have a reason for saying that. Can I ask you what that is?’ It opens the door for you to be able to hear their past experiences and how that has molded their world view. It is an empathy and compassion builder, making a way for a greater connection.

People like those who are most like them, and thus relate to them better:

Although I am free from all and not anyone’s slave, I have made myself a slave to everyone, in order to win more people. To the Jews I became like a Jew, to win Jews; to those under the law, like one under the law - though I myself am not under the law - to win those under the law. To those who are without the law, like one without the law - though I am not without God’s law but under the law of Christ - to win those without the law. To the weak I became weak, in order to win the weak. I have become all things to all people, so that I may by every means possible save some more. 1 Cor. 9;19 - 22. CSB

Ask God for awareness; see what is going on around you and pray to understand God’s purpose in it.

If you are being chastised, thank God for the correction and change direction.

If you are lauded for your efforts, accept it with humble gratitude. If you’re a recipient of a gift, be grateful to the contributor and to God for sending it to you through the giver. Then, after you’ve relished the gift for a moment, ask yourself, ‘How can I best use this in the service of Christ?’

You don’t have to be anything that you are not. God created you in love for His kingdom purpose - a purpose that always contains what’s best for you as well. Soldier on…

To be continued.

Goodnight and God bless.

#barriers to evangelizing #better evangelizing #Christ foot soldier #evangelizing saves lives #handling rejection #necessity of salvation #the great commission #winning souls

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mybukz · 3 years ago

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Fiction : The Queen and the Parrot by Satya Misra

Image by Ilona Frey on Unsplash

This had happened in Chandrateep, a kingdom in the state of Malaba, during the reign of King Brushaketu.

A smart and handsome youth came with a cage, with a parrot inside it, which he wanted to personally present to the king. He was not allowed to see the king, but his persistent entreaty moved a couple of guards to go into the palace and inform the king about this visitor. The king was told that a young man had brought a parrot, which, he claimed, was a very special bird with extraordinary qualities. He refused to demonstrate its qualities to anyone other than the king, although he was prepared to leave if the king declined to see him. The youth looked polite and cultured. Would the king be pleased to permit him?

“What is so special about that parrot?” asked the king, and even before his query was answered, continued “What exactly does this man expect from me?”

“Maharaj, this beautiful green parrot with a bright red beak can sing and talk. His songs are melodious and speech is musical. The young man believes that only our noble king can appreciate the qualities of his bird. He has trained the bird with great dedication and affection exclusively for the king. He doesn’t expect anything in return, as the bird is meant to be a gift. He appears sincere and polished.”

“Is he a subject of my kingdom? What is his name?”

“Yes, Maharaj, he says he is a citizen of Chandrateep. His name is Sumedh.”

“Guards, go back and tell him that the king is pleased with his loyalty. But it is improper for a subject to call on the king and offer him a gift. This goes against our royal custom.”

“But our youngest queen Malabika is very fond of birds. She believes that there is no sound sweeter on this earth than infants babbling and birds chirping. You take that man to the chamber of my consort Malabika. The queen can keep the bird as her pet if she likes. Ask our treasurer to pay Sumedh appropriate cost of the bird. It is against my policy to accept free gift from a subject. “

The guards left the place after paying obeisance to their King.

*******

King Brushaketu had a discerning eye for beautiful women. He already had five wives and there was no saying how many more could come. Malabika, the most recent addition to the line, was the youngest and dearest to the king. The latest arrival always remained closest to the king’s heart, a status that continued till the arrival of his next bride. Though not from any royal lineage, Malabika outshone any princess or queen by virtue of her dazzling beauty and magnetic persona.

The king never had to compete with other suitors for winning the hand of a woman. Nor did he have to woo any woman or seek a bride by sending messengers to other kingdoms. He chose his queens from his own kingdom, mostly during customary rounds in his kingdom, sometimes even from carnivals or public places. Occasionally his messengers brought information about some young lady whom they deemed suitable to be a queen. Brushaketu firmly believed that the first right over a lady of marriageable age vested with the king of the land. Hence any woman on whom the king set his eyes promptly became his queen. All his five queens had come through this process.

This method was believed to please all parties. While the brides were elated to surrender their lowly lives to become queens, their parents were equally eager to install their daughters in the palace. The king himself had asserted many times that the practice of elevating a girl from among his subjects to the status of a queen vindicated his superior, citizen-friendly administration. He didn’t believe in importing a princess from another royal family.

Whenever the king left his palace for a tour outside, his roving eyes searched for pretty women. There were of course whispers about decent young women hiding themselves during the king’s outings, to escape from the king’s lascivious eyes. But most citizens dismissed this as pure canard and believed that the nubile virgins of Chandrateep, decked in finery, tried to attract the king’s attention at every available opportunity. Which girl would not love to be queen of a powerful king?

******

The generous reward Sumedh got from queen Malabika in return for his favourite bird was far beyond the realm of his modest living. When the friendly guards enquired about his meeting with the queen, he replied their queries truthfully, but in the process uttered something which made the guards see red. The queen had asked him to bring her more such birds if available. The guards wanted to know when that would be. ‘Never,’ said Sumedh curtly and dismissed the question. The curious guards wanted to know why, but Sumedh remained reticent. On persistent prodding, Sumedh told his reason which enraged them so much that they promptly took him to the chief of army, Senapati, who was also the protector of the palace.

Senapati heard him out and counselled him,’ Young man, you are young and immature. You get easily blinded by your impulse, which might be disastrous for you in the long run. Watch your words .You may lose your life, should the king come to know this. So shut your mouth and run away fast.’

Sumedh’s response was polite but bold, “I have spoken nothing but the truth .Had I not been asked I would not have opened my mouth? I don’t regret my words.”

Sumedh’s last sentence convinced Senapati that the youth with an innocent boyish expression could indeed be an obstinate and irksome rascal. Leaving him free might be dangerous. Sensing a threat to the image of royalty, he took him to the king. The wise minister of Chandrateep, the chief counsellor to the king and principal strategist of the kingdom, was also present at the moment.

“Who is this young man?” asked the king. ‘Why have you brought him here?”

“Maharaj, this is the same youth who had come to meet you with a talking parrot. He has handed over the parrot to the queen as ordered by your noble self. But on his way back from the queen’s palace, this lad has uttered words which are disgraceful and insulting to the palace, especially to the queen. He doesn’t show any remorse or regret for his irresponsible conduct. So I brought him here, Maharaj.”

“What offending words did this fellow speak?” asked the king with a mixture of anger and curiosity.

Maharaj, I am unable to utter those audacious words. Let your highness hear from the culprit himself. Please allow me to leave now.”

But the King didn’t allow Senapati to leave. He cast an angry look at Sumedh and demanded to know what the fuss was about.

“Maharaj, I have committed no crime. I have only told what was in my heart, which angered your guards. Permit me to leave the palace. Punish me if I ever set my foot in your kingdom. Whatever has caused such turmoil today will be wiped out forever. I pray your majesty to kindly set me free without asking any further questions. I swear that nobody will see me here during my lifetime.”

His words and demeanour were very polite; but the king was not satisfied. Sumedh was rudely made aware of the dangerous consequence of defying the king’s orders.

“Maharaj, the moment I saw the queen, I was struck by something like lightning. The dazzling smile with which she welcomed a lowly bird seller like me made me quiver like jelly. I fulfilled my duty and surrendered the parrot to her. I also explained to her how the bird had to be commanded to get from it the sweetest songs and words. Then I hurried back as soon as I could. I was so much enamoured of the queen’s magnetic beauty and electrifying personality that I could not bear to spend more time with her . I was nervous, fidgety and perhaps trembling too. Her angelic charm, soft tender voice and gentle behaviour cast a spell on me and generated such deep feelings, to describe which I find only one word; which I dare not utter here. I know my feelings are forbidden, one-sided and extremely dangerous. So I am guilty for my thoughts.”

The king, his minister and the Senapati were listening intently without looking at each other. After a brief pause, Sumedh continued, “I didn’t know how long I remained under such trance. With some effort I somehow recovered and came to myself; but it would be impossible for me to stand again before the queen even for one moment in this life. Hence I cannot bring any more bird for the queen. I told this to your guards and explained the reason. That’s my only crime. I spoke from my heart.”

The king, with an inscrutable demeanour and raised eyebrows, asked “And how did the queen react? She is sharp enough to read your base thoughts, you scoundrel .She must have made out your filthy character and shooed you away; Didn’t she?”

“No Your Majesty; nothing of that sort happened. She didn’t get any inkling of my weakness. Only for a moment did I see her face. That single glance shattered me so ruthlessly that I completed my task as quickly as possible to leave the place fast. I cannot entangle myself again in such a situation. So I cannot bring any more birds, Maharaj. That’s my only prayer.”

Brushaketu’s simmering anger grew into a tornado which hit Sumedh with savage fury. The swear words heaped on the hapless bird seller surprised the bystanders, especially the minister, as those words were never known to be part of the noble king’s vocabulary. He ordered for Sumedh to be thrown immediately in the prison. Then he announced that the appropriate punishment for this lecherous villain could only be death, to protect the prestige of the royal family and the kingdom.

Total absence of any fear or remorse on the accused’s face angered the king even more. He was about to release a further dose of scalding lava when the minister intervened. “Maharaj, it is grossly inappropriate and audacious for this boy to open up his heart in this manner. He is certainly guilty. He is also immature. It is not easy to keep one’s feelings under control. Execution will of course annihilate the culprit, but nothing else will change. Even if he remains alive, it will have no impact on you or the queen or the kingdom. You can continue to spend your days of conjugal bliss with the queen. So please do not tarnish your name by executing this lad. Let him be banished from our kingdom instead. Order him not to set foot in our land during his lifetime.”

The king could not accept his minister’s suggestion. He would decide Sumedh’s fate after more consultations and wanted him to be held in a prison cell till then.

******

When queen Malabika heard about the daring confessions of Sumedh, she was livid with anger. She cast such a venomous look at Sumedh’s parrot that her maid in attendance wondered whether she would order the poor bird to be killed instantly. The bird, unable to read the queen’s reaction, promptly recited few verses from its memory with gusto and enthusiasm. The maids remained silent, but the parrot, incapable of regulating its own behaviour according to its owner’s mood, went on twittering more verses and sentences with greater vigour. This must have further infuriated the queen, as she immediately proclaimed death sentence on Sumedh. An ordinary subject had the audacity to confess his infatuation for the queen of the land! And he would tell it in so many words before the king, the minister and the Senapati! It was unpardonable. She could not approve the way the king and his minister handled the matter. They ought to have ordered Senapati to behead the rascal on the spot. That barbarian did not deserve to live. His shameless existence was an insult to the dignity of the queen as well as the entire kingdom. “That man named Sumedh is a blot on humanity. A poisonous plant. Uproot him. Burn him. Hang him. I cannot live in peace as long as that lecherous rascal is alive. This is my desire, my demand. Go and convey this to the king forthwith, my maids.”

The king happily accepted his dearest queen’s verdict, which pacified the queen a bit. But she was suspicious that Sumedh might have taught some vile, vulgar things to the parrot. She carefully listened to every syllable and note uttered by the bird repeatedly, trying to understand.

After careful consideration, the queen sent specific instructions for Sumedh’s execution. He would be beheaded as a human sacrifice before the goddess Kaali, the presiding deity of the kingdom. Kaali ruled the universe from her temple located inside the palace, at the southern corner. She had appeared more than once in the queen’s dreams, demanding human sacrifice. Malabika normally did not encourage human sacrifice, but this case was different. The expressed desire of the mighty goddess, followed by the appearance of a sinner like Sumedh in the kingdom, clearly indicated that Kaali herself had arranged fulfilment of her own wish. This created an opportunity to kill two birds in one shot: destruction of evil and propitiating the goddess. Non-compliance of the divine dictum would be disastrous. The queen ordered that Sumedh be decapitated at midnight of the next new moon, which was the hour of goddess Kaali.

There was no way the combined will of the goddess as well as the queen would remain unfulfilled. Sumedh lost the right to retain his head on his shoulder.

********

As the new moon was drawing close, preparation for the rare human sacrifice was in full swing. The temple priest was happy that the ceremony would be different from the routine monthly rituals of other moonless nights. For too long Kaali had been thirsting for human blood. The fierce goddess could not be sated with an animal sacrificed every month on new moon night. Sinister things would happen if the goddess of power, death and destruction was prevented from drinking human blood at least once a year. The priest’s earlier warnings about an urgent need for human sacrifice were not heeded. He was grateful to the young queen who ordered the sacrifice of a man.

Ever since the sacrifice was announced, the priest had noticed a rare glow on the menacing face of the deity. Surely she was waiting eagerly for the forthcoming event to quench her thirst. Her fearsome dark blue body, the ten hands with sharp weapons in each hand, eyes burning like embers, lolling blood-red tongue, garlands of severed human heads and stark red hibiscus flowers dazzled with such ferocity that even the priest felt an eerie fear. Kaali stood with one foot placed on the chest of Shiva, her husband, who was lying prostrate on the ground, face upwards, eyes staring at the hungry face of his consort.

The priest was waiting for the dark night of the new moon with great excitement. The heavy, shining sword, used many times for beheading lambs and heifers, was now polished and kept ready for Sumedh’s neck. The headsman would sever the head from the torso in a single stroke. As the head would roll down from the wooden altar, with the body wriggling on the ground, the priest himself would carry the severed head to the deity, offering her fresh warm human blood. That would satisfy Kaali and bring good fortune to their state.

With only five days left for his big day, the priest had to remain fully prepared for the special midnight worship. He was happy that the queen herself was personally involved in the preparations. She had even instructed the jailors, on advice from the priest, to keep the sacrificial man free from any injury on his body, because Goddess Kaali would reject an offering with any scratch or defect.

The priest dipped his fingers in a bowl of bright red vermilion paste placed before the deity. Smearing his forehead with a thick layer of this paste, he closed his eyes in reverential prayer, muttering under his breath “May your desire be fulfilled, O divine mother Kaali”.

********

On the new moon, the eldest queen Ambika called the youngest queen before midnight and asked her with apprehension “Sister Malabika, You are young and sometimes impetuous .You are also wise and rational. I trust that you have carefully considered effects of whatever you have decided to do. It is never too late to withdraw. Even now you can undo everything if there is even a trace of trepidation or hesitation in your mind.”

But Malabika replied calmly, “I regard and respect you like my own elder sister. I always treat your expressed wishes as commands. But today I request you not to nurture any apprehension in your mind. All arrangements are in place. With only about an hour left for midnight, the world has turned dark and black. We need your prayers and blessings for the big event.”

Ambika gently touched Malabika’s head and said softly “May Goddess Kaali fulfil all your wishes, my dear Malabika.”

******

Shortly after sunrise on the following day, King Brushaketu frowned at a messenger. He had come to take the king’s permission to allow some visitors into his private chamber. It was very urgent, he was told.

“Why can’t they wait till I am ready to meet people?” the king demanded, but changed his mind when the messenger told who had come to meet.

His minister, Senapati, the temple priest and two maids of queen Malabika were ushered in.

“I may be forgiven for bringing bad news at this time of day, Maharaj, but the matter is so urgent that it cannot wait.” The minister began.

“I am ready to listen. What is the matter?”

After a brief and uneasy silence, the minister prodded the priest to speak.

“I beg your pardon, Maharaj. The youth who was to be sacrificed at the altar disappeared before midnight.”

“That means …” the king said tentatively.

“That means there was no sacrifice last night, Maharaj.”

“Has this news reached queen Malabika?” there was a hint of anxiety in the king’s voice.

Principal maid of the queen replied “The queen too is missing, Maharaj.”

“What do you mean?”

Nobody told the king what was meant. The maid said hesitatingly “Just before midnight yesterday….”

She had to stop abruptly as the king released a mighty roar which seemed to shake the entire kingdom.

After few more minutes of silence, the second maid blurted, “Queen’s parrot is also missing, Maharaj. The cage is open. It’s empty.”

As the king was trying to collate and make sense of these nuggets, the wise minister said in a grave voice “Maharaj, I seek your permission to tell something.”

“What more is left now?”

“I smell conspiracy in your palace.”

“Who?” roared the king?

“You have to find out, Maharaj.”

******

Almost at the same time, a different scene was playing out at a different location beyond the limits of Chandrateep. Sitting under a mango tree in a thicket, an enchanted youth told his companion “I was ready for my execution. When I knew that my sacrifice was desired by my adored queen, I had no remorse or fear. I didn’t hope to see this morning.”

His companion, once the queen of Chandrateep, Malabika said “I know that, dear. Now everybody knows what happened to you after meeting me, but nobody knows what impact that meeting had on me. Not even you.”

“What impact?” Sumedh asked, surprised.

“Your unsteady hands, your hesitant eyes, your fear, your shame and your inability to look straight at my face, even as you were parting from your precious parrot, did not go unnoticed by me. I could read your mind and dismiss it as a momentary infatuation. But when news of your imprisonment and its reason spread around; there was only one thought which ruled my mind. If ever there was anyone who could give me unconditional love, it was only you. I knew instinctively that you were the only man who would give me a life of happiness and bliss. “

“But to abandon the luxury and comfort of the palace …”

“What comfort? What luxury? The king had never given due space in his heart either to me or to any of his queens. He is incapable of that. He may pick up a few more queens like me in future too. He will not miss me. I have always led a humble life; will do so in future too. Who wanted the trappings of a palace?”

Sumedh asked with apprehension “Can we stand against the mighty king and survive?’

“You have seen only his might, not his feet of clay. The news of my elopement will never come out of the palace. In his own interest, the king will ensure total secrecy, to protect his image and to fulfil his future needs. We shall soon be forgotten. I have erased myself from the king’s life, soon someone else will come along. Absence of a fifth queen between the fourth and the sixth will not raise any eyebrow.”

“Our escape from a heavily guarded palace is nothing short of a miracle.”

“There is no miracle, my dear. There are few other hapless women like me spending their unhappy days in the palace. They have helped me. We owe our escape to their help. I have also released your parrot.”

“The parrot knows only my home. You will find it there when we reach my home.”

Malabika lazily looked at the birds flying in the sky, trying to remember when she last saw vastness of the sky in an open place. Sumedh asked “Can I ask one more question? Why the other women trapped in the palace are not seeking freedom? As you did.”

“Simple. No Sumedh appeared in their lives.”

Satya Misra writes short fiction in Odia, a regional language of India, and his mother tongue. He has two volumes of short stories published in Odia. He has also written a few stories in English, which are published in Mirror (India) , Borderless journal and Contemporary Odia Short Stories (an anthology).

#fiction

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idiosyncreant · 7 years ago

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QUEEN IN-HYUN’S MAN - A Rewatch Review

This is not the post I was expecting to write, when I went into this rewatch. Despite the dramatic potential of saving it for the end to reveal why, I’m actually going to lead with it: I really enjoyed this drama, but the last two episodes had some choices I strongly disagreed with.

Takeaway? Writer Song Jae Jung actually didn’t go that off the rails in W: Two Worlds; this has been the way she plays it all along.

[spoilers throughout - if you haven’t watched yet scroll on by. Review for those who wanna watch: this is worth looking into tho an older drama, come back and read my critique afterward. XP]

FIRST, THE GOOD STUFF

The great bulk of this show held up to rewatching. If you do not already know, I cannot explain to you how sexy it is to watch Kim Boong Do navigate modern day Korea with his Confucian scholar logic. I had forgotten how quickly he starts evaluating the clothes surrounding him--and figures out a situation in which he can obtain them. Unlike most heroes, he mugs no one for clothing?

(It helps he’s on a set.)

And then, there’s the fact that we get this set up that Choi Hee Jin is an ordinary girl. However, through the whole drama she is supported by the narrative, rather than undermined. It’s made clear that her acting has improved from the past because of her effort, and she gets the role on her own terms (despite what her ex wants her to think).

She has been studying how to pronounce archaic Korean and does it well. And then... there’s this beautiful exchange. She’s claiming to have destroyed the talisman to trap him in the modern world, and he argues she knows what having it get cut did to them. “I’m stupid, so I totally forgot about that, and did it,” she lies.

Because here’s the thing: Kim Boong Do deduces a lot of what is going on around him, and he learns and memorizes information fast. But if it weren’t for Choi Hee Jin catching on when he wasn’t understanding something, he wouldn’t have gotten far.

The other thing I loved in their relationship (that is rare in any media, never mind trendy rom-com k-drama) is how they teased each other. Choi Hee Jin kept pulling Kim Boong Do’s leg, and because he’s clever, he reads through it. And he responds in kind.

In most writers’ hands the way they lie to each other would be taken dead serious and be a communication killer--but she’s a kidder, and he’s got a sense of humor.

Even when she uses lying to cover for her feelings, he never makes it about calling her out--instead he plays along until she can be truthful.

They’re a great improv duo, is I guess what I’m saying here.

I also love that Choi Hee Jin never gets shamed for being totally into him. Even if she gets busted for being impulsive about this kind of thing. Kim Boong Do is hugely amused when her manager says she finds ways to kiss boys she likes:

The thing is--Kim Boong Do totally digs it. The next opportunity he makes his own “modern goodbye” move.

NOW, THE TROUBLING STUFF

In Episode 14 I started to get uneasy. It seemed like the drama, as I remembered it, was wrapped. Why were there two episodes left?

Because. The writer wanted to cause Kim Boong Do more pain. This would have been enough, the fact that he did leave his whole life and purpose and legacy behind in Joseon:

I LOVE THAT HE GETS TO CRY ABOUT THIS.

However, he gets yanked back into his old world with a new rule added to the talisman’s effects at the eleventh hour: Yoon Wol, the gisaeng who created it, is killed and he is brought back as the talisman turns black.

Apparently her intent to have it save him boomerangs if she dies so instead his life is put in even more danger. Her murder without compunction feels a little off-tone for a drama in which lives were risked many times but our hero was always able to come through--in fact, when he would have been declared dead in Joseon, he is saved. Yoon Wol is given no such grace.

And so Kim Boong Do ends up disgraced, in prison, and believes himself doomed. So he commits suicide.

Wait. What? Yep. But now Choi Hee Jin’s phone works across the centuries, and becomes his new talisman. First it causes him to fight his way out of the noose he’s made for himself, then when he answers it pulls him into her timeline.

The one thing I liked in this rather digressive plotline was how quickly they let Choi Hee Jin put it together, even thought she had forgotten him. (I much prefer, though, the earlier way they handled her remembering Kim Boong Do when no one else did--that she accepted she was hallucinating and was in therapy about these false memories. Because that is what a real person would do!)

There were other things that could have been done in the two episodes to add some tension or resolve some themes--there could have been a strategy save Yoon Wol from unhappiness and bring her to a place where Kim Boong Do noted she could be respected as an entertainer. We could have seen the couple having to actually go public with their relationship so her ex would finally get off her back, and deal with fallout.

Like, there is so much scope for fun with all the denial the other boy is in...

But instead we got a cheap hit with a woman, vulnerable because she is in a job where men consider her fair game, killed just to make the hero miserable and cause him to fall from grace.

Without him getting to redeem himself--he just escapes. It’s out of character and frankly puts too much importance on his romance over his actual life. It’s one thing to take arrows because there is no other way to vindicate the queen, and there’s a strong chance he’ll get the care to survive once he time-travels. It’s another thing altogether to try to hang himself with the tie that stands for their relationship’s intimacy.

But the fun of their relationship was its strongest appeal. I mean, watch this man run a scam:

We could have had at least a half an episode more of this kind of thing.

THE BIG TAKEAWAY

First, I don’t regret my passionate love of this story. I still think all the things that this drama did well were actually intentional and not just what I wanted to see.

My main sadness is seeing that there is a writer out there who does so many things I really enjoy, who has a creativity with SFnal concepts that go well beyond what most shows do--who has a pattern of letting her own themes and characters down.

(I didn’t watch Nine: Nine Time Travels but from what I did catch while it was releasing makes me think it also follows this trend.)

And while I definitely do not need to fix this drama with a sprawling rewrite--there may be a short story to revise those last two episodes in my future.

#Queen In Hyun's Man #queen in hyuns man #kdrama #rewatch #review

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angeltriestoblog · 4 years ago

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I’ve been thinking and writing and thinking about writing

This time last year, I spent my free time cooped up in my university’s study hall. There, I would drink from smuggled cups of vending machine coffee, in the hopes of converting my lethargy into caffeine, and the caffeine into words. My dream publication at the time had opened up internship applications, and though they set no deadline, I pressured myself to finish all the requirements as fast as I could. Every impulse decision I had was always coupled with this need to execute at the soonest possible time, like my brain knew if I took a second longer, my common sense would kick in and pull the brakes. I guess my failure to think everything through reflected in my cover letter template (lazy), resume (unremarkable), sample works (in retrospect, bland and uninspiring), and the absence of an acceptance letter in my inbox.

I have lost respect for said publication since then, though not because I harbored bitterness in my heart: their failure to compensate hardworking interns as well as the steep decline in the quality of their content should be enough reason. (Looks like I dodged a bullet back there.) Though it can’t be denied that at the time, I was heartbroken. The feeling lingered with me longer than I cared to admit. Despite getting featured on a national broadsheet and accepted into my school’s student paper less than a month later, I still couldn’t bring myself to be fully confident in my skill set because of that one specific, indirect rejection.

Which is why, being where I am now and having achieved as much as I have in a span of five short months feels like the highest form of vindication. Quarantine boredom compelled me to submit an article pitch to the then newly-launched Underdog, an online platform dedicated to the digital native’s latest preoccupation. It was a piece about the boybands I loved and lost (read: the dissolution of One Direction, and every other group I adored with the same degree of intensity), one I was actually planning to post on the blog. But in a span of a few weeks, my idea was accepted, refined, revised, and turned into a full-fledged essay that landed me my first ever paycheck.

I was still on some euphoric high, emboldened beyond belief, when I chose to take it a notch higher and apply as a staff writer for one of my all-time favorite magazines. During the summer before college, I was paralyzed by a legitimate existential crisis that left me aimless and afraid. I turned to the Internet for solace, and in my search for a voice of reason, I found Lithium Magazine, and their collection of articles which viewed life in the authentic, critical, occasionally self-deprecating way only Gen Z teens know how. I was aware being turned down by them would easily mean a one-way ticket to retirement for me; thank God my inner critic was taking a power nap or else it would have talked me out of it for sure. The day after I submitted my accomplished application form and a far more impressive portfolio of sample articles (by my standards, at least), I woke up to an acceptance letter and just knew life was not going to be the same.

The past four months I’ve spent as a contributor for Lithium have been some of my most fulfilling as a writer. I am constantly being pushed to the limits of my imagination and creativity when it comes to the content I produce. I can’t find it in me to half-ass pitches or beat around the bush in paragraphs: I owe it to the effortlessly talented people I work with, and the impressive body of work they have managed to accumulate over the years. My first pieces for the month of July were about the effectivity of online therapy in a Filipino context, and the irony of being a low-maintenance friend during a time when the need for human connection is higher than ever. This was followed by my personal essay in defense of basic girls: my favorite one so far, and probably my boss’ too, considering that it’s an Editor’s Pick for the month of August. Though I am infinitely proud of them, as they are my first forays into the international publishing world, I know I can (and thus am determined to) do better.

Since then, I’ve churned out articles on an almost-daily basis for an array of online and print zines. I scout for inspiration in the morning and once struck by lightning, I type away until roosters start to crow once again. Most days, I only took a time out for the daily two-hour movie. It seemed like I was working a part-time job instead of nurturing a hobby. But it never felt like a chore to me. I simply love what I do and I feel like the fact that it shows is the reason why sites are kind enough to publish my work.

You can view my portfolio if you want to see everything I’ve put out so far but here are five of my most recommended, in case you’re too lazy for that!

The story of my coming-of-age based on the usernames I had on social media platforms, for Uniquely Aligned;

An expose on all-girls Catholic high schools in the Philippines and their inaction towards sexual harassment cases, for Ashamed Magazine;

A part-review of Patron Saints of Nothing by Randy Ribay, part-rant on the evident lack in Western media that accurately portrays Filipino life, for Reclamation Magazine;

A piece on why talking about mental health should never be a one-way street, for Gen Rise Media;

A love letter to one of my favorite movies of all time, and its flawed eponymous protagonist, for Mid-Heaven Magazine

On a rather tangential note, I also started expanding my network on LinkedIn, though I wasn’t exactly sure what I was hoping to get out of this exercise. I simply enjoyed the process of generating new variations of the same job descriptions. One day, I was sent an email by Riya, the Executive Director of The Young Writers Initiative, a nonprofit that provides resources for aspiring authors to improve their craft and advance their career. They wanted to recruit me to be a mentor for freelancing for their upcoming summer internship program. I had just woken up then and had to rub the sleep from my eyes to read it properly. Apparently, I was recommended by a connection (hi, Srilekha!) who took my sample works as an obvious display of my credibility in the field. Given that this sounded like an exciting opportunity, I immediately agreed. Everything happened at a pretty fast pace after that, as I got swept up in the process of selecting a mentee and figuring out what I could possibly teach them. I guess I didn’t find the time to process what exactly was going on, and what it meant for me as a writer.

It didn’t take long for the impostor syndrome to hit. And quite hard, if I may add. I was due for an interview with Madison, one of my fellow TYWI mentors and I had scanned the questions she sent me. Though I clearly knew what advice I would give to aspiring freelance writers, or had a routine in mind that allowed me to balance all my existing priorities, my hands felt like they were loaded with cement. I could barely type on the document before me. I must have had a staring contest with my taunting cursor for an hour.

I mean, maybe I couldn’t say anything because I didn’t have the right to say them. After all, whatever I knew, I borrowed from someone else - perhaps an actual authority in the field. Wasn’t I just some girl who got lucky during the quarantine? While the current state of the world forced everyone into stagnancy, I coped best with the help of the written word. Had everyone else been under the same circumstances, I wouldn’t be in my current situation. Needless to say, when the actual feature came out, I spiraled.

I wish I could claim that I only had to do x and y for the storm cloud above my head to go away. But as controversial as it sounds, I maintain that no writer fully gets rid of impostor syndrome. In fact, let me widen the scope of my statement: no creative can do it. I have never known anybody with both an inclination toward the arts and a strong sense of confidence. It’s like our limitless imagination only raises the already impossibly high standards we hold ourselves against. We never really think highly of ourselves to begin with, so when we meet a goal, achieve something we’ve only ever dreamt of, we bring ourselves down. We invalidate our hard work and dismiss it as an act of charity by the karmic forces of the universe.

Thankfully, I have an amazing support system: my immediate family members and closest friends, always ready to offer reassurance when it’s scarce (hold on, I got these intense Economics war flashbacks GOD). I seriously don’t know where I’d be without them. Actually, I do know. Probably wallowing in pools of self-deprecation. I think I would’ve ended up chickening out of new opportunities on the sole basis of my self-imposed inexperience. My loved ones were the quickest to remind me that I was only a beginner in freelancing but I had been writing since I learned how to grip a pen in my hand. I have prepared for this all my life and I was finally reaping the fruits of my labor. Who was I to shy away from the blessings that were so generously being lavished upon me?

In fact, just a few hours ago, I bagged two very exciting contributor roles for organizations that I admire very deeply. I have several pitches in the pipeline as of now, which I absolutely cannot wait to bring to life and share with you guys. As far-fetched as this sounds, this is only the beginning for me. I am so grateful to everyone who has believed in me, read my work (or even a mere paragraph of it because I know how underappreciated the written word can be these days), and left encouraging comments.

WIshing you nothing but love and light always, always, always,

Angel

#angeltriestoblog #life dump #personal #freelance writing #imposter syndrome #writing mentorship #life lessons #wow look at me actually making use of helping tags????#who am i????#angel tries to overcome crippling insecurity #FOR GOOD #pls #quarantingz

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cuthian · 4 years ago

Text

Starting Over Chapter Four

Hi guys!

Please enjoy the next chapter and be sure to keep an eye on the dates--there's some time jumps coming up :)

Love, Annaelle

Chapter Four

POLYAMOROUS RIGHTS ADVOCATES SEE MARRIAGE EQUALITY COMING FOR THEM

Like many others across the country a few weeks ago, a Washington D.C. couple and their housewarming guests buzzed about the Supreme Court’s ruling that legalized gay marriage in all fifty states. This group, however, was far more interested in Chief Justice John Robert’s dissent than the majority opinion that made same-sex marriage the law of the land.

The couple—a husband and a wife—are polyamorous, and just moved in with their girlfriend. […]chief justice wrote that polygamy has deeper roots in history and that the decision to allow gays to marry “would apply with equal force to the claim of a fundamental right to plural marriage.”

Other comments of note from Chief Justice John Roberts on plural marriage include: “If not having the opportunity to marry ‘serves to disrespect and subordinate’ gay and lesbian couples, why wouldn’t the same ‘imposition of this disability’ serve to disrespect and subordinate people who find fulfillment in polyamorous relationships?” and “When asked about a plural marital union[…] petitioners asserted that a State ‘doesn’t have such an institution.’ […]that is exactly the point: the States at issue here do not have an institution of same-sex marriage, either.”

[…]believe that Roberts’ dissent will prove as useful to the polyamorous movement as dissents written by Justice Antonin Scalia in gay rights cases were to the most recent—and successful—same-sex marriage suit.

Polyamorists and similar communities have never found more vindication in a dissent than this, however. It truly is causing quite the stir, amongst supporters and protesters alike.

[…]movement for equal right to plural marriage gained a lot of traction in the last few years, after Tony Stark’s announcement of his polyamorous relationship with longtime boyfriend Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes and Stark Industries C.E.O. Virginia “Pepper” Potts. Stark, Potts, and Rhodes have already issued multiple statements saying they’d love to marry each other, but that they refuse to marry between themselves unless they can all marry.

“Tony and I have been together for most of our adult lives,” Rhodes said when asked during a press conference. “We’ve been with Pepper for a long time too, by now. We know this is it for us. If we could, we would already have been married.” […]many people living in polyamorous relationships “are in the closet and being very careful”, with a large number of them feeling it’s more important to protect their employment, housing, and children than to lead the charge for marital rights.

[…]polyamorous partners, particular younger ones, are increasingly “out” about their lifestyle, and believe that change will come with greater swiftness than for gay people. Having public figures like Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, James Rhodes and even Captain America himself lending support to their cause is predicted to have a large impact.

[…]explosion of media interest in polyamorous families hints change will come—so long as polyamorous people continue to step out of the shadows—and she hopes in the meantime states will expand domestic partnership laws.

"The same-sex marriage movement has really broadened our perspectives on what family means, what love means," a spokesperson for the National LGBTQIA+ community says. "There's quite a strong possibility in the next 10 or 20 years we'll have a very different idea nationwide of what it means to be in a committed family."

—Steven Nelson, “Future Polyamorous Marriage Right”, U.S. News & World Report Online, June 2015

————————

Common floor of the Avengers Tower, Manhattan, New York, U.S.A.

November 23rd, 2015

Tony

Whatever else occurred, Tony maintained that organizing an Avengers Game Night the day after Becca, Capsicle and Thor returned to the Tower was a brilliant idea. They hadn’t done anything together as a team since the party they’d thrown Steve had Becca when they abandoned them for a new, shiny job in D.C., and now that they were back and they had a few new members, Tony wanted to make sure they had some time together.

They tended to hang out in clusters, and it wasn’t like they didn’t all get along or weren’t all friends, it was just that they tended to stick to their pre-Battle of New York friendship dynamics.

It was, quite possibly, the first time they’d all managed to be in the Tower at the same time in years.

He’d convinced Rhodey to stick around for the weekend, citing a few promises that made Tony feel a little hot under the collar just thinking about them, and had J.A.R.V.I.S. sneakily reschedule all of Pepper’s appointments so her weekend was free, and even lured Bruce up from his lab with some kind of weird Himalayan tea the man had mentioned once.

Natasha had texted him three days ago that she and Clint would both be there—even though Tony hadn’t even really decided to do anything yet back then—so he’d resigned himself to having his Tower invaded by formerly brainwashed—semi-Russian, at least one of them—spies.

Steve and Becca had planned on spending their three days off in the Tower anyway, so Tony had relished in not having to convince them to show up.

The wonder twins had not confirmed they’d be leaving their floor, but Tony figured they’d show up at some point. Even Thor would be there, coming in from D.C. with Becca and Steve, and he had happily provided all the Asgardian booze needed to get both Steve and himself delightfully drunk as a damned skunk, and promised he would ensure Becca and Steve wouldn’t skip out tonight’s activities.

Tony had PlansTM for the night.

It wasn’t that they didn’t all know each other reasonably well, but Tony felt like there were probably a few things that they could stand to learn about each other.

Besides… They all needed a break from the Avengers op from hell.

Tony hadn’t really been able to find any solid evidence of a cover-up, no matter how many databases he hacked and how many firewalls he bypassed, and he knew Natasha hadn’t found anything more damning either.

It was intensely frustrating.

So. Game night.

It was, even if he did say so himself, a perfect plan.

Steve, Becca and Thor wandered onto the common floor first. Tony hadn’t actually seen all of them together that often, and it was pretty interesting to see the dynamic. Thor and Becca were holding hands, while Becca used her free hand to gesticulate excitedly about whatever she and the Capsicle were talking about. Thor wasn’t speaking much that Tony could see, but he looked utterly content to listen to Becca and Steve babble without providing much input.

Tony shrugged.

To each their own.

At least he’d brought a bottle of what Tony assumed was the booze that would get him and Steve drunk too. He narrowly resisted the urge to pout—he had hoped Thor would’ve foreseen to bring more than a single bottle for the two of them.

Pepper walked in a few minutes later, engrossed in whatever legal documents she was undoubtedly reading, Rhodey pulling her along by one hand to make sure she didn’t run into anything.

Tony may have swooned a little.

Just a little.

Rhodey being a gentleman had always been a bit of a turn-on, and basically everything Pepper did made Tony’s heart feel like it grew three sizes—in the non-lethal, metaphorical way, of course.

He watched as Pepper greeted Becca, Thor and Steve with a hug, a little puzzled by the strange, long look Thor gave her when he released her from his arms, before he turned to Rhodey and shook his hand. He didn’t get a chance to really think on it more, because right then the twins decided to appear on his couch in a single blurred movement.

He hadn’t spent much time with Wanda and Pietro yet—he didn’t think any of them had, except maybe Natasha—but he looked forward to getting to know them.

He’d been the one voting for their addition to the team the most, despite them being underage at the time, and he hadn’t regretted the decision yet. Once they had gotten over their resentment for his bombs being used in the attack that killed their parents and little brother, they turned out to be wicked smart and incredibly resourceful.

He liked them, even if Speedy Gonzales was snarkier than Rogers and Becca combined, and Little Red had a meaner side-eye than the goddamned Black fucking Widow did.

The superspies suddenly appeared on his couch, a bottle of excellent vodka already clenched in Red Scare’s hand. Tony just threw his hands up and figured he didn’t even want to know how they got past J.A.R.V.I.S.—

…he really did want to know though.

For Science.

Once Bruce had trudged in, looking for all intents and purposes like he was completely surprised to find himself suddenly surrounded by his teammates, Tony herded all of them towards the lounge area, where there were enough seats for all of them, and where they could put down all of the booze and snacks they’d collected.

Of course, ample seating still meant Clint and Natasha somehow twisted themselves together into a human pretzel, and Becca cuddled close to her Asgardian beefcake while Rogers seemed to come to the conclusion that Becca’s lap was the perfect place to rest his head while he squinted at all of them suspiciously—Tony had to admit Rogers might be onto him just a little bit.

The twins commandeered one of the love seats for themselves, and the Flash kid grinned smugly at Bruce when he had to settle for a seat next to them.

Rhodey and Pepper perched next to each other on the sofa and Tony flung himself at their feet, very subtly tilting his head back into their knees until one of them dug their fingers into his hair and gave him the hair scratches he’d been angling for.

Excellent.

“Okay,” he said when everyone had settled with their respective favorite alcohol—and juice, for the not-yet-of-legal-drinking-age Maximoff twins (yes he was a hypocrite)—within reach. “We’re going to play stupid drinking games like we’re still in college and spill some juicy gossip and we’re going to generally not be responsible tonight. Pep, darling, light of my life, put away the phone, I know you’re working.”

He felt rather than heard Pepper sigh before she handed her phone to Rhodey and accepted the glass of her favorite Merlot from him. “Thank you, sweetheart,” Tony heard her say quietly, and damn if that didn’t make his heart squeeze a little too.

He loved his partners, damn it. He was allowed to be sappy.

“Oh,” Clint exclaimed happily from somewhere in the human pretzel. “Let’s start with Truth or Dare! It’ll make everyone loosen up a little!”

“No it won’t,” Steve grumbled from his spot in Becca’s lap, but he quickly shut up when she patted his cheek consolingly and just pushed his lip out into a pout—God, it was easy to forget the guy was one of their younger members until he did shit like that.

“I’ll start,” Clint chirped. “Rogers, truth or dare?”

“Truth,” Steve replied mulishly, sitting up straight and curling his legs beneath him.

“What did you really think of the uniform Phil designed?” Clint grinned, winking at Steve lightly. Tony was actually inordinately pleased to see that Clint was able to say his late husband’s name without dissolving into hysterical sobbing.

Rogers hadn’t been the only hot mess in the Tower for a while there.

“Ugh,” Steve said eloquently, taking a sip of the Asgardian booze Thor handed him. “I hated it. Tight in all the wrong areas and flimsy as fuck. The tights the USO gave me were better. Those were stretchy. I could actually move properly in those. Plus they made my ass look great. There was an excessively appreciative audience.”

Tony hadn’t expected that, and burst into surprised laughter along with the others, hiccupping a little when they calmed down a little. Steve had the most shit-eating grin on his face and Tony feared for himself a little when Steve said, “Stark. Truth or dare.”

“Dare,” he said, pushing out his chin a little in defiance, keeping his eyes on Steve’s as the other man came up with an undoubtedly devious dare.

Steve grinned, baring all his teeth, like Tony had just played right into his cards—which he probably had, damn it—and chuckled. “I dare you to let Clint style your hair and your beard and to wear it like that for the rest of the night.”

Tony yelped indignantly while the others laughed and jeered at them, but refused to back down. “Fine,” he hissed, snatching one of the full shot glasses from the table and downing it. “But I need to be drunker for this.” He pointed one finger at Barton, who had excitedly extracted himself from his human pretzel and said, “But you’re not touching the beard. And I swear to God, Barton, if I have to shave my hair in the morning to save it, I will break your bow and all of your arrows.”

Everyone laughed at his expense—even Rhodey and Pepper, the traitors—and Clint hopped off to the bathroom to gather whatever nefarious supplies he needed to deface Tony’s beautiful hair.

“I get to go right now though,” he demanded, glaring at Steve as Barton returned with an armful of brushes, pots of gel and hairspray—was that temporary coloring spray?—and immediately dumped all of it on Pepper’s lap. He barely had the chance to look at Steve’s nod in acquiescence before Barton dug his fingers into his hair and began combing through it.

“Becca,” Tony called, grinning wickedly at Becca, because he couldn’t actually get back at Steve directly, but he could do it like this. “Truth or dare?”

Becca groaned and sipped her whiskey before she replied, “I’m going to regret this, but dare.”

“Aha!” Tony exclaimed triumphantly, valiantly trying to ignore whatever atrocities Barton was committing on his hair. “I dare you to make out with Steve!”

“No!” Becca shouted, nose wrinkling in disgust while Steve made a face. “God, gross, no. I take it back, truth, give me truth instead!”

Tony wagged his finger at her with the smuggest grin he could muster, given that most of his higher brain function was preoccupied with Barton’s deeply questionable fashion choices.

“Them’s the rules, Baby-Becs. No take-backs. Someone make out with him!”

“Oh, come on,” Becca whined, tossing an olive in Tony’s direction. “I’ll answer two questions and take the shot, promise. Just let me switch it out. I don’t wanna kiss Steve, he’s gross.”

“Ah, Krúttið mitt,” Thor boomed with a large grin. “You do not do our friend justice. His kissing is most satisfactory.” Tony burst into surprised laughter with the others, mostly because Steve’s face was tomato-red, and he seemed to be torn between pride and utter embarrassment, while Becca was looking between her boyfriend and the Capsicle with an expression that told him she wasn’t quite sure whether to be amused or angry at the reminder that her boyfriend had made out with her best friend.

“Really?” She pouted at Thor, frowning. “Maybe you should be kissing him then.”

Thor smirked and slung an arm around her shoulders, and Tony was far too amused to protest when Thor leaned across Becca to plant a smacking, barely-decent kiss to a speechless Cap’s lips—Tony would have sworn he saw tongue.

Scandalous.

“There,” Thor proclaimed happily once he had released Cap, turning to Tony with a shit-eating grin. “Someone has kissed our fair Captain. Will you allow Rebecca’s dare to be converted to two questions?”

“What the hell?!” Becca demanded right then, smacking Thor’s arm indignantly.

Tony watched, with slight amusement, as Thor tried to placate his rather irate girlfriend, while Steve sat frozen beside them, lips still slightly parted, like he couldn’t quite believe what happened.

Tony snorted at the thought.

“You okay in there, Capsicle?” he asked, grinning smugly when Steve visibly startled. “It can’t have been that great of a kiss, it barely lasted a second.”

“I don’t know,” Wanda piped up from her seat, grinning at Thor in that peculiar way of hers. “I think if the Thunder God kissed me, I’d be speechless too.” Tony gaped at her—because that was the most he’d ever heard her say out loud in two years—and her brother elbowed her in the side while the others blinked at her. “What?” she asked innocently. “He’s very pretty.”

“Okay, okay,” Tony finally conceded, grinning a little at the flabbergasted expression on Becca’s face. “Two questions, Baby-Becs.”

“Fine,” she grumbled, leaning out of Thor’s embrace to down one of the shots set on the table.

Tony graciously waited until she had settled back onto the couch—and it had nothing at all to do with the vicious way Barton was yanking at his hair—before he pulled out the big guns. “So,” he began ominously. “Out of everyone in this room that you’ve made out with,” he gestured grandly. “Who is the worst kisser?”

“Oh God,” Becca groaned dramatically as the group collectively shouted, “ooooooh.”

“Answer the question,” Clint jeered from behind Tony, the others cheering along with him. Becca was flushed as red as Steve had been a minute ago, and she looked furious. Oh, he was going to pay for daring to ask her that in public.

“Come on then,” he said, grinning wickedly. “Who is it?”

Becca groaned and let her head fall back against Thor’s bicep for a moment before she sat up again. “You of all people do not want me to answer that, Tony.”

Tony gasped. “Such outrageous implication. I am an excellent kisser.”

Becca smirked at him and shook her head. “Oh, I’m not saying you’re not. I’m just pointing out that you’re up against the Black Widow and the God of Thunder.”

Said God of Thunder merely smiled beatifically, and the Widow smirked at him—at him.

“Lies,” Tony exclaimed, because there had definitely been extenuating circumstances the last time he’d kissed Becca. Clearly, she was just misremembering—it had been a long time. “I demand a rematch. I was drunk off my ass the last time we made out, and so were you. I can do way better.”

Pepper kicked him in the back—in a very dignified way, he was sure—and Tony muttered, “I mean, not that it matters,” because he wasn’t an idiot.

Becca just grinned smugly—the little shit, turning his question around on him like that—and leaned back against her stupidly pretty boyfriend. “Second question, Tony? Or do you and your hair need a minute to mourn first?”

Tony resisted the urge to run to the nearest bathroom to see what Barton had done to his gorgeous hair. It could wait—he had vengeance to exact.

“Oh, I’m good,” he boasted. “I got a question.” He raised a hand and pointed towards Thor grimly. “About him.” Thor raised an eyebrow at him while Becca groaned. Tony wasn’t worried that Thor would be offended or embarrassed—they had a good enough rapport for him to feel comfortable asking this question in front of him, and Tony knew him well enough to know Thor would probably think it was funny, while Becca would die of embarrassment.

“Tony, no,” Becca said sternly, as though she was the boss of him. He only listened when Pepper or occasionally Rhodey told him not to do something.

“Oh, come on, Baby-Becs,” he whined playfully, waggling his eyebrows at her. “Thor doesn’t mind, do you, Point Break?”

Thor snorted. “Please, by all means, Stark.” He gave Becca a look that was far too sappy for the situation and added, “There is little elskan mín could tell you that I would not be happy to share if asked myself.”

Becca smiled back and added, “And I wouldn’t tell you what he doesn’t want to share anyway.”

“Okay!” Tony exclaimed before those two could start making out on his couch—if anyone should be making out on his couch, it should be him. “None of us are blind… As Little Red said, your boy is pretty—but tell me, how well-proportioned is he?”

He smirked when the rest of the room actually fell silent, because honestly, every single one of them had had a crush on their resident Thunder God at one point or another. Just because Becca was the only one to ever have acted on it—with Cap being a notable exception—didn’t mean they hadn’t all thought about making a move.

He held up his hands, relatively close together, and winked at her and Thor, who was chuckling beside her, shaking his head at them lightly. “Come on, just tell me when I’m getting close.”

“Tony, I’m not telling you the size of his dick,” Becca hissed, cheeks flushed as she downed another shot. “That’s really not—”

Nat interrupted and grinned wickedly at Becca. “Come on, котенок. Don’t be shy. He isn’t.”

The room erupted into jeering and catcalling and Tony barely caught Becca shooting Nat a comically betrayed look before she looked back at Tony and sighed. “More,” she finally said, gesturing towards the distance between his hands. “A lot more.”

Tony raised an eyebrow and moved his hand, jaw dropping a little when Becca shook her head. They continued that way for a few long, tense moments, Becca indicating Tony to give another inch while an awed—slightly impressed—hush fell over the rest of the group.

Thor seemed fairly amused by the entire affair, but Tony was too engrossed in the moment to care.

“Stop,” Becca finally said. “That’s about it.”

“Holy fuck,” Tony choked, eyeing the distance between his hands with wide eyes—because damn, that was impressive—before he realized Steve was staring rather intently too. The super-soldier seemed deep in thought—and possibly drunker than Tony thought—before he nodded at Becca and casually remarked, “You sure? I thought it felt bigger than that.”

The room erupted into chaos again.

————————

Personal floor Of Steve Rogers, Becca Barnes and Thor, Avengers Tower, Manhattan, New York, U.S.A.

November 23rd, 2015

Thor

Rebecca pressed into his arms as soon as he joined her in their bed in the Tower, mere hours after Stark’s impromptu game night, flinging an arm across his chest and a leg over his own. “You took too long,” she complained quietly, the cold tip of her nose pressing against the side of his chest.

“I apologize for the delay,” he hummed, slipping his arms around her to hold her close. He did so enjoy moments like these; he was grateful he had opened his heart to her when she had done so for him—that he had allowed himself to see where their relationship could take them, rather than run away from the possibility. “There was a… a matter that required my attention.”

“You gonna tell me what it is, or should I guess?” she murmured, shifting a little so her head rested on the pillow beside him.

“Letting you guess could be amusing,” he grumbled playfully, reaching out to push a few stray locks of hair from her face, watching her smile widen a little before she reached out to poke him in the side. He snorted and poked back, laughing at her high-pitched squeal, going along when she launched herself at him, allowing her a moment to pretend she could overpower him.

They wrestled for a moment before he rolled her onto her back and pinned her down, grinning down at her with the smuggest grin he could muster. “I won,” he said dryly.

“Gotcha right where I want you, though,” she replied cheekily, reaching up to tangle her fingers in his hair, pulling him down into a kiss.

After a few slow, soft, languid kisses, however, he pulled away to break the kiss—albeit very reluctantly—and rested his forehead against hers. “While I do enjoy your line of thinking, Krúttið mitt, I could actually use your advice on the matter.”

“Okay,” Becca nodded, smoothing her fingers through his hair before he rolled off of her, settling on his side beside her. She turned on her side too, propping her head up on her hand. “Tell me then.”

Thor sighed heavily, settling his hand atop Becca’s hip, idly rubbing at the soft fabric of her tank top.

“One of my secondary powers,” he explained slowly, trying to find the words to explain what he had sensed without coming off as… creepy. “It… involves the ability to sense pregnancy.” Becca’s eyebrow raised high on her forehead, and Thor chuckled. “I suppose it sounds odd put like that. It is more… I can sense the budding life force. It is not a skill I have taken much time honing… I might be mistaken.”

“Okay,” Becca said slowly. “So who is it?”

“I believe it to be Lady Pepper,” he confessed, looking down to where his hand rested on Becca’s side. “I am simply unsure of how to proceed, and I hoped you might provide some insight. I am still not entirely certain of proper Midgardian protocol in all social situations, and I would hate to offend Lady Pepper with my suspicions.”

“Pep’s pregnant?” Becca breathed, eyes wide and shocked.

Thor nodded silently.

Becca blinked, before she nodded slowly. “And you’re not sure if you should tell her?”

“I think I must,” Thor admitted. “I do not even know if she herself is aware.” He bit his lip and gingerly inquired, “Do you know if they want children? The lady Pepper and Anthony and James?”

“No,” Becca said quietly. “I don’t know. I’ve never talked to them about it. I can’t imagine them being unhappy about it though. A little shocked, probably, but not unhappy. Rhodey has a passel of nieces and nephews and they all dote on them.��

Thor nodded silently, moving to pull Becca closer again, nestling her smaller frame against his larger one comfortably. “Do you want them?” Rebecca whispered so softly that he nearly did not hear her, her face pressed against his shoulder, keeping her expression hidden from him for a long heartbeat before she exhaled and looked up at him. “Children, I mean,” she added quietly, uncertainly.

Thor blinked at her, considering which answer to give, before he settled for honesty. “I did,” he conceded. “I… I always assumed I would have them with…”

“With Loki,” Becca finished for him, smiling sadly at him.

Thor nodded.

“How would that have worked?” she questioned curiously, setting her chin on his shoulder. “He was a man, wasn’t he? Could he—is that a thing, with Aesir?”

Thor smiled lightly and shook his head. “No, but Loki was special. He was born a shapeshifter. I always assumed we would be able to… well, that he would be able to…” He sighed and shrugged a little, careful not to dislodge Becca. “And if he hadn’t been able to, I suppose we would have adopted. There were—there are—plenty of Aesir children in need of a good family.”

He leaned down and kissed her forehead, lingering for a long moment before he asked, “Do you? Want children?”

“No,” she replied immediately, before blinking, apparently just as startled as Thor by her own harsh tone. “I don’t think…” She breathed shakily. “I don’t think I’d be a good parent. I don’t think I have what that takes, and I… I just don’t know.”

“Oh, Krúttið mitt,” Thor whispered, trailing his fingers through her hair tenderly. “You would be a wonderful parent, I’m certain.”

“What?” Becca looked up at him, eyes wide and confused as she shook her head. “No, I wouldn’t. Being a parent… that requires a kind of selflessness I just don’t have. Having a kid is… it’s making a lifelong sacrifice. I mean,” she floundered, shaking her head again. “I know that that’s not... that you get so much in return, but… You gotta love that kid unconditionally, and I don’t know if I’d be able to do that. I would never… I know what it’s like to know that your parents’ love is conditional. I couldn’t risk ever making my own child feel like that.”

Tears were running down her cheeks, and Thor hated that she had such a skewed vision of herself still, that her parents—who had been fools, clearly, to toss aside someone like his Rebecca—had such a strong hold on her still. He wished he could go back and smack them in their faces, to show them the incredible woman their daughter would become.

“You could never,” Thor pledged, wiping her tears away with the pad of his thumb. “The fact that you worry means that you would never allow your child to feel like that.”

Becca laughed weakly, pulling him down for a quick kiss, her tears tasting salty on his lips.

His fingers fisted in her hair as he kissed her again, deeply. He was not sure what it was about humans that brought out the strongest emotions in him, but all he could feel was desperation to show her that he would not doubt her for a second. She pulled away from him after a moment though, kissing his cheek tenderly. “I love you,” she whispered.

“And I you, Krúttið mitt,” he replied when she wriggled around to get comfortable, “And you should know… were it possible… if I should choose to begin a family with someone other than Loki… I would surely choose you, Rebecca.”

He felt, rather than saw, her shaky exhale, her fingers curling around his hip tightly. “Thank you.”

Thor smiled weakly and pressed a kiss to her hair, falling asleep with a soft smile on his face.

————————

Pepper Potts, Tony Stark and James Rhodes’ kitchen, Avengers Tower, New York, United States of America

November 24th, 2015

Pepper

“It’s your own fault, you know,” she told Tony amusedly. Her boyfriend had an alcohol tolerance that both impressed and terrified her sometimes, but even Tony’s liver wasn’t able to handle liquor like an Asgardian God, a super soldier or a Russian super spy. She’d told him not to try it, to let them get their silly drinking games out of the way without trying to compete with them, but Tony was… well, Tony was Tony and he hadn’t been able to resist a challenge.

He looked like he was regretting it now.

She wasn’t even sure how he was conscious, much less able to get himself out of their bedroom and into the kitchen. Granted, he hadn’t gotten much further than that—he’d plonked down on the nearest seat and faceplanted on the kitchen island, moaning about the injustice of life or something.

Rhodey, smart man that he was, had stopped drinking around the same time she had, after the game of Truth or Dare had morphed into a game of Never Have I Ever that they could clearly not keep up with, not with Tony “absolutely-no-shame” Stark, Thor “I-am-so-old-I’ve-done-everything” Odinson and Steve “I-only-look-innocent” Rogers playing.

“Hey honey,” she told Rhodey when he followed Tony in, smiling when he patted Tony on the head when he walked past him, and turning into his embrace to accept his customary kiss on the cheek. “You look better than Tony does.”

Rhodey snorted as he moved past her and opened the fridge. “Everyone looks better than Tony right now. He hasn’t found the time to destroy Clint’s masterpiece yet.”

Pepper barely managed to suppress a grin at that.

Tony had indeed managed to get drunk enough to forget what Clint had done to his hair, and had fallen into bed wearing it just like Clint had styled it—which meant half of their pillowcases were now smeared with green and purple coloring spray, an unholy amount of glitter, and hairspray. The mohawk Clint had meticulously shaped Tony’s hair in had deflated overnight, and his hair mostly looked messy now—it could’ve passed for his normal bedhead if not for the vibrant patches of bright green and purple and glitter in there.

“Miss Potts,” J.A.R.V.I.S. interrupted her train of thought. “Master Thor is requesting access to your private floor. He informed me it is quite important he speak to you.”

Pepper exchanged a glance with Rhodey, who looked as confused by the early visit from their resident god as she felt, before she shrugged. “Let him in then, J.A.R.V.I.S.” She turned to Rhodey and smiled lightly. “Take care of Tony while I talk to Thor? I doubt it’s that serious, or he would’ve just busted in here without asking politely.”

Rhodey chuckled and nodded, catching her hand and drawing her close for a quick peck on the lips.

She relished in the touch for a moment before she pulled away, walking out of the kitchen to meet Thor in the hallway. The God of Thunder stood just inside her door, looking comically large in the narrow hallway—she wasn’t actually sure why they hadn’t designed the hallway to be bigger—and slightly underdressed in his sweatpants and t-shirt in the classy, if she did say so herself, décor she and her interior designer had painstakingly put together.

“Good morning,” she told him warmly, leaning in to hug him lightly when he approached. “What brings you here so early? I thought Becca would force you to stay in bed until early afternoon, at least.”

It was quite interesting to see how bashful the man could be when you knew the right button to push—the man hadn’t batted an eyelash when they had been discussing the more intimate details of his anatomy right in front of him yesterday, but when Pepper displayed any knowledge of how he and Becca felt about each other, he blushed almost as hard as Steve would when something sexual came up.

“Ah, well,” Thor shrugged, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck, “Rebecca is still asleep, and I think I might join her again later, but I… I had something of importance to speak to you about. It did not feel right putting it off.”

That didn’t sound ominous at all.

She eyed him shrewdly, trying to find any sort indication as to what was so important he wouldn’t feel comfortable about waiting to talk to her, but she was coming up blank.

“Okay,” she sighed. “I think Rhodey’s making breakfast. Do you want to join them?”

He shuffled his feet a little, and it was so odd, because she’d never seen him act this nervous and uncertain before, and she had been there when he told Becca he loved her the first time—although they had all been there, really, and he’d kind of blurted it out in the middle of their Christmas party when he turned up suddenly after having disappeared for two weeks.

“If you don’t mind, I think it’s best we speak in private first.”

She nodded, trying not to show that his hesitance was making her a little anxious, and nodded towards the living room. “Let’s talk there then.”

They didn’t speak while they settled, and she took the time to observe Thor. He’d looked at ease yesterday, calm and relaxed even when Becca had been mad at him for kissing Steve, although he’d been a little pensive at times—she hadn’t missed that he’d been looking at her a lot during the night too. She wondered if whatever he wanted to talk about had been on his mind for longer—but he looked downright uncomfortable now. Maybe it was something he’d been holding in for a while, something that was threatening to burst out of him if he tried to keep it in any longer.

She couldn’t fathom what though.

It wasn’t like they were particularly close. They’d chatted, of course, and she liked it when he came to her for recommendations for things to do in the city, but they didn’t tend to spend a lot of time one-on-one unless it was in an official capacity—Stark Industries, after all, functioned as the Asgardian Ambassador’s official liaison still.

“So,” she said when he’d sat down on the seat opposite hers. “What can I do for you?”

Thor smiled for the first time since she had seen him this morning, and said, “I suppose what brings me here is more something I can do for you, Lady Pepper, rather than you for me.”

Pepper blinked. “I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

Thor swallowed thickly and looked away for a moment. “I do not know how much you know about the mythology surrounding me and my family in this world?” He paused, and Pepper shrugged, wholly confused and unsure where he was trying to go with this line of conversation.

“Not a lot,” she admitted. “No more than the general public, I’d say.”

Thor nodded. “I am mostly known as a God of Thunder. It is, however, not the only power the Norns have given me.”

Pepper nodded slowly, still unsure.

“I am also a God of Fertility,” he said, looking at her oddly. “I’ve not had much use for my other powers,” Thor admitted slowly. “Therefore I cannot say with absolute certainly, but…” he sighed and shrugged, looking up at her from beneath his eyelashes.

She blinked.

“I’m sorry,” she said slowly, “Thor, I don’t see what this has to do with me.”

Thor sighed and hung his head, and Pepper abruptly felt like she’d kicked a dog, her stomach twisting at the sorry sight he made. She didn’t understand though, because he was making no sense—what would him being a fertility god along with a thunder god have to—

Oh.

She froze, eyes wide and fixed on Thor.

He smiled wryly. “I cannot say with absolute certainty, but I do believe you might be with child.”

“Oh,” Pepper breathed, hand falling to her abdomen without any sort of conscious thought. She swallowed, mentally calculating if she’d be able to reschedule the appointments she had tomorrow, so she’d be able to go see her gynecologist, because the word of a god of fertility was all well and good, but she’d need to confirm it with an actual doctor before she could…

Before she could think of it as real.

“How do you know it’s me?” she asked Thor curiously. “Could it not be Natasha? Or Becca?”

“Ah,” Thor smiled. “Rebecca has been with none but me in quite some time. Aesir cannot reproduce with humans, so I am quite certain it was not her. As for the lady Natasha,” he fell silent and frowned. “I’ve been told she cannot bear children and has no wish to either.”

Pepper nodded slowly, feeling more than a little overwhelmed. It wasn’t that she, Rhodey and Tony had never talked about having children, or that they’d been particularly careful about it, but it had always seemed like a farfetched idea. Their careers had always come first, and they’d been happy with just the three of them. She’d never really craved being a mother, but… that didn’t mean she wouldn’t be happy if… if Thor was correct.

“Thank you for telling me,” she said. “It’s…” She stopped and shook her head. “It’s not what I was expecting, but I’m glad you told me.”

“Of course,” Thor insisted sincerely. “It was the least I could do.”

She smiled tightly. “If you don’t mind, I think… I think I have to talk to my partners.”

Thor shot to his feet, nodding urgently. “Of course. It’s time I return to Rebecca anyway. She’ll be cross with me for leaving the bed before she woke. With some luck I can be back before she wakes.” He smiled charmingly and Pepper couldn’t help but smile back—it was a very nice smile, after all, and she was only human.

Becca was a lucky girl.

She followed him back out into the hallway, eyes lingering a little on the more relaxed set of his shoulders—she supposed the hard part was over now, for him. He stopped at the door, hesitating with his hand on the doorknob before he turned back to her with the sincerest expression she had ever seen on anyone—including Steve.

“I know we are not quite as… close as the others, but… I do like to think of us all as a family, of a sorts,” he began, and the admittance made her feel warm. The Avengers, despite their clashing personalities, had become somewhat of a—slightly dysfunctional—family. “I just want to say that if you need someone to speak to, regardless of what decision you make, I will be here for you,” Thor continued, and Pepper abruptly felt tears burning in her eyes.

She knew she wasn’t sure yet, that she hadn’t confirmed anything, but—definitely hormones.

“Thank you,” she croaked. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Thor smiled. “Please do.”

Before she could say anything else, he slipped through the door, leaving her alone in the hallway, tears still burning in her eyes and her two partners waiting for her in the kitchen.

“Well,” she told herself, inhaling deeply and holding the breath for a moment before she exhaled shakily. She glanced down to her belly, as flat as it had been that morning, and hesitantly rested her hand on her lower abdomen. “Guess it’s time to talk to the men, isn’t it?”

“Here I go.”

————————

Start from the beginning:

In Hell We Stand By You:

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8)

Never Feel Alone:

(1) (2)

Decisions: (1)

Dancing with a Limp:

(1) (2)

Chances:

(1)

Starting Over:

(1) (2) (3)

Or read it HERE on AO3 :D Find the next chapter HERE on Tumblr :)

#IHWSBY sequel #starting over #stucky #Stucky fanfic #Steve rogers #thor #Rebecca barnes #my writing #Lisa writes

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eksbdan-blog · 5 years ago

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New Post has been published on https://passingbynehushtan.com/2019/11/27/romans-1-general-revelation/

Romans 1: Apostasy of the Gospel "General Revelation"

Romans 1 and “General Revelation.”

We searched for God, but we never found him until he came to us.

Let’s take that idea into our relationship with the Gospel. Has it come to us, or are we still looking for the good news? Do we have a general revelation of the Gospel as well?

Natural or general revelation is that knowledge of God taken by reason directly from the visible creation and is accessible to all men. That distinguished from “special revelation,” which is God entering space/time to deliver a message in action and/or language to man. A special act of God in reaching man to bring him up to illumination of his existence and nature. The glory of the moon, stars, and teeming life forms on the earth should also suggest a creator. But the Word of God does not suggest but explicitly reveals, designed to give transformative and life-giving insight into mysteries of His will that are otherwise impossible.

Special revelation is that standard set for the judgment souls. It won’t matter if you never heard it, and this should be, ironically, the scary thing about it. It represents a benchmark of spiritual morality. If you never heard it, your judgment is favorable if you regard and morally handle the spiritual truth claims known in the same manner that you would have handled special revelation. In the absence of special revelation, you are judged by general revelation. If even it does not move you, or you don’t care about what it means, or you care only to the extent that your biases win, its a problem. But ff you put it equal to or superior to the special revelation standard after it comes, you’re done. It’s the same as saying, “your regard or disregard for a small truth judges you by the appearance of a “Special One.”

This Gospel, we must remind ourselves, judges. It not only offers people an escape from judgment. If it judges, its something capable of judging spirits, it’s not telling you to mouth “Jesus saves” or “Jesus is the Messiah,” that Jesus died and rose the third day, and he is the Savior fo the World.” It’s not telling you just to go around saying, “believe in God, and there is salvation.” The Gospel is a command to obey, by faith, word and action, only after you allow yourself to stand before it and realize “this, unlike what came before, is now proof of the otherwise impossible. I’m guilty, but now I know, because now, finally, I know and am known by what I’m not, and only through this Truth, I am forgiven.”

The “Special One” is Jesus of Nazareth, the Messiah. But not his person, which is the representation of Truth. The Special One is the whole biblical phenomena of a God condescending to care for man by giving to the world the positive Truth of Himself, embodied, manifested, and brought to the heart by this his special Person.

The takeaway from this is that what aligns with general revelation aligns with our bias for persons, bodies, objects, and ideas over anything they may mean. They are powerful things, appearances, the outside world, what the eye can see, and the brain naturally understands without any special assistance outside of itself and the events and objects like it and which it likes. They are heady. They make us feel powerful and important. The carnal world is, after all, what we are born with and what we start with for knowing existence. But alone, everything we see in this world is at best only tokens unattested of what they are not, and can only pretend to something greater.

Since that which is greater, the Divine knowledge, is now open to the world and available to be known and handled, we’re are not supposed to act as we did before the Cross. Were not supposed to be hamstrung in our contact with Transcendence through our willful or practical dealing only with desire, imagination, preference, conclusions, statements, creeds, theory and speculation, brainpower, and emotional energy in an attempt to transmit ultimate Truth. These are, like the trees and the planets, possibly suggestive but not positively, conclusively demonstrative of contact with God, and if we take the truth from there, especially now, as I said, we’re done.

Why is the Gospel even necessary? Jesus never had to come, you say. Why can’t God simply judge people on general revelation? No. If Jesus never came, there would never have been laid down a proven, confirmed, unassailable means to the apprehension of God that can withstand an attraction to a vision through dim lenses. A foggy vision that is nonetheless preferable because it makes us look clear and real by comparison. All people who love the truth flock to this revelation, and the old, anti-revelational, and selfish means would never have been repudiated and put away, never again to offer any justified hope of access to any conception or presence of God.

God’s existence and nature have been revealed and vindicated as true. There is no going back in history, and neither is there anything else for a moral man to choose.

The Gospel is the herald to all those that would be saved. Its a test, not to prove anything to God but so that those that throw their opportunities away have no excuse because they had no choice, not having anything proven transcendent and phenomenal. The blessing of that is that we have it, we have assurance, not fear, not confusion, struggle, and strife looking for God, looking all holy and pious only if we only engage our own “truth.”

I am not questioning if natural revelation has value informing us about God, but to what value and to what place is it given by the New Testament writers, and is the same as ours? I want to know if their understanding of the creation of God is informative of the same kinds of things for which we use it.

We know that it was brought into their argument for God as a primitive type of the Word of God, as a minimum kind of knowledge that does not allow people who claim that there is no God an excuse. But I wonder if Paul intended in Romans 1 for us to look at it and use it more as an evidential standard of judgment for a general type of recalcitrant Christian faith or, for those that know the gospel, as a means of knowing what kind of New Testament confession is right or wrong. It would be a hoot if it were not so spiritually lethal that we might have again forced a square apostolic trope into a round modern hole. We force it for the cynical purpose of making sure that even the beauty of the mountains or the irreducible complexity of life is into service for unjustifiably commending us to God instead of revealing what is wrong with us and is preventing it.

If conceded that the natural world has a function beyond merely that of being a minimal epistemic standard in this, what would the other standard be if not special revelation? If the other standard is special revelation, and it is the higher standard, would we not expect that this standard would include as one of its most essential revelations a means of discerning with some certainty not only what the location and nature of our right object of affection pertaining to the Truth, but to the same exact extent that which is the bad object of affection? Would not this natural revelation then be indented by God, not as a way to commend a man for believing or condemn him for not believing in God but, more importantly, to accuse them who know the gospel but prefer a lower form of revelation and affection?

The Gospel of the General Revelation with Special Revelation?

It first is imperative to bring out that an extended argument for natural revelation as a necessary companion to special revelation and its faithful acceptance is not present within the entire canon of the New Testament. Nowhere do we find it suggested that natural revelation is an excellent argument for the existence of God (there is not so much as even an attempt at a systematic theology in the New Testament). In every instance, we see general revelation used as a means of contrast between what we know easily and without effort and what we should know through the teaching of and our informed meditation over a revealed document. What we should know is how we know anything about God, which commends Him and us to a moral nature and a love of Truth. Both the existence and nature of God comes to those honest about knowing it through the gospel and Christ. That is consistent with Christ as the only mediator between man and the otherwise ineffable God.

Is general revelation used in the New Testament, as it is continually in our apologetics, as a means to find God and commend or condemn Man for his moral duties? Or, used for failure to recognize the need for another kind of revelation of God in the gospel? The difference between the two is like night and day, for the former is cripple in its ability to tell us anything about what we might be missing in our faith, which might work in us to our missing Christ. But the latter must force us to expose to the light every nook and cranny of the content of the gospel for all its nomenclature and species of revelational types which we might relegate for the same reason. A relegation for the same reason atheists push away general revelation: to throttle its full power and to arm’s length so it will not be a threat.

I think that natural revelation is one of the most frightening and challenging doctrines we have. But only because it informs us of what, exactly, faith really is by contrast, which is almost always what we don’t what it to be. About precisely how near we are to God as to how far we are from Him, and that is not a welcome precision.

There are only two New Testament passages for possible use in asserting that general or natural revelation acts sufficiently apologetic for God and that its something of vital importance in evangelism. For the essential purpose that you need to see God in nature before you can see him in scripture. That is Romans 1 and Acts 14. It’s not, however. Only for a lead-in to an argument for the Gospel.

Mar’s Hill

In Acts, we have the famous passage of Paul on Mars Hill in Athens.

A lot of hay has been made out of this, especially by presuppositional apologists in the attempt to demonstrate how a properly basic “God sense” is foundational of faith, and the right way to approach atheists. But in Acts, we see that Paul is only using it to dissuade the Athenians from one thing and on to another, not to predicate an acceptance of Christ on a prior motivation of belief in God.

Essentially, the kind of revelation that was available before Christ was corroborating but insufficient. We should abandon to rely entirely upon another, much the way we must leave the Law as a way to please God, giving way to the New Covenant. Recorded is this incident for us to use in distinguishing between one kind of superseded faith, a “general” one if you will, and a new one that saves on belief, which is very “special.”

Acts 17:22-23 (KJV) Then Paul stood in the midst of Mars’ hill, and said, [Ye] men of Athens, I perceive that in all things ye are too superstitious. 23 For as I passed by, and beheld your devotions, I found an altar with this inscription, TO THE UNKNOWN GOD. Whom therefore ye ignorantly worship, him declare I unto you.

Strong’s says that the word translated “superstitious,” Δεισιδαιμονεστερους, literally means “fearful of demons,” or religious in the bad sense. The Unknown God, the god whom they don’t know but is still deserving of worship to these people, is the god that rules over the religious affections yet gives no sure knowledge of that divine unknown realm and Persons. A dark faith. Paul says the real God, the one who made the heavens and the earth, does not live in temples made of men’s hands. He is not, therefore, worshipped in religion carried on the exclusive domain of the imagination and made up of any corporeal thing. Therefore the broad sweep of the natural world that God created as revelatory is ultimately opaque and not a basis for real spiritual ideas. It’s important only as you would call a child’s toy truck for training in the use of a real one. The toy truck is a toy like training wheels. But it’s not essential for the real world. Its an object of familiarity with the real world., meant to be set aside after maturity as a piece of nostalgia representing a necessary path to adulthood. An adult does not have the toy on his dashboard and must play with it before he drives the real truck.

In v.26, Paul mentions prophetic revelation as this valid basis.

Acts 17:26 (KJV) And hath made of one blood all nations of men for to dwell on all the face of the earth, and hath determined the times before appointed, and the bounds of their habitation; .

Paul says that everyone is basically the same, and as such, are subject to the same spiritual standards by God. The word “appointed” is προτασσω, meaning “prescribe” or “pre-arrange,” and here is the only time used in the NT. It might suggest that the “times appointed” refers to the seasons, but the seasons that are so appointed is again a figure for prophecy, as we will see.

Acts 17:27 (KJV) That they should seek the Lord, if haply they might feel after him, and find him, though he be not far from every one of us:

Paul sets up his argument then by using the pre-appointment of Christ as a fulfillment of the pre-appointment of nature. Before Christ, God expected everyone to use this suggestion of future perfect disclosure of him through the natural order to undertake a search for him through what was available. Everyone is appointed by God to search for God and find Him. Paul says that in this state that their only means id to “feel” for him. This word psēlapháō is kind of like someone in a dark room feeling for something to touch, which he can identify. Man was appointed to do this, that they might find God, but, of course, they never fulfilled the appointment.

The end was always that man would not find God, but, as we know, it is impossible through only general revelation to find God, only something that feels like Him. Paul means that man would find God through a higher revelation.

Acts 17:28-29 (KJV) For in him we live, and move, and have our being; as certain also of your own poets have said, For we are also his offspring. 29 Forasmuch then as we are the offspring of God, we ought not to think that the Godhead is like unto gold, or silver, or stone, graven by art and man’s device.

Possibly Cleanthes is quoted by Paul to establish a friendly link between the old revelation and the new. God is not like anything natural. And when we find him, we are not in the dark and feeling for him, but He has become revealed. Paul now brings it all home.

Acts 17:30-31 (KJV) And the times of this ignorance God winked at; but now commandeth all men every where to repent: 31 Because he hath appointed a day, in the which he will judge the world in righteousness by [that] man whom he hath ordained; [whereof] he hath given assurance unto all [men], in that he hath raised him from the dead.

Prophetic language. “The times of his ignorance,” hath appointed a day,” “he will judge the world,” “man whom he hath ordained.”

The pre-appointment of Christ came to replace the old, impossible revelation, and this new standard subjects everyone to it. These are prophetic statements. The assurance that the Father raised Christ from the dead is the assurance from the prophetic revelation by which defines the “good news” of the gospel. Christ rose from the dead as a fulfillment of prophecy. You don’t have to “feel” for God, you can see him work in a way that no one else can by just looking at the Scriptures and a fair and unbiased reading of history.

After throwing the crowd into indecision and confusion, the result when Paul finished teaching his brief summary, was people believing:

Acts 17:34 (KJV) Howbeit certain men clave unto him, and believed: among the which [was] Dionysius the Areopagite, and a woman named Damaris, and others with them.

Remember, that a Christian who takes this as salvation through believing God through natural revelation is a Christian that makes the gospel superfluous. It is not superfluous, as I explained, when it reflects the highest Holy standard of spiritual faith. If natural revelation was all that was needed, we don’t need Christ.

Nor is accepted that Paul is establishing the “God sense” of people that must be in place before the Gospel is accepted, as many exegetes assert and certain apologists. In this view, the sense of God is equal to that of the general revelation of nature: insufficient but foundational. When put like this, it sounds perfectly reasonable. But whatever noetic state a prior believer assumes in respect to God before he knows the Gospel, a foundation to faith is not built first with necessary philosophical, ideational, and instinctive objects. That foundation is of a pure “special” revelatory object and in a necessary appearance of God in some sure form. The difference profoundly affects how we will regard the power of the Revelation of Messiah to change minds, regardless of their assumed instincts.

We don’t know those instincts. We are only “feeling” for them by the power of logic and philosophy, and intuition. That which is foggy and unsure is not a foundational edifice for what is not if what is not comes suddenly, unexpectedly, and has no origin anywhere around matter and mind. If you want a “God sense” discussed in serious tones, you need more than a “general” conceptual symbol with nothing inside that came from Transcendence. If Transcendence showed up, it would not matter if anyone felt for a “God’s sense” because the divine, foreign phenomena is making it from nothing, and that which is sure, not speculative. God reveals himself in the context fo inferior revelation, but he is not reaching man on the basis of it, but reforming from scratch man’s whole spiritual guts according to a new thing in which the old thing shadows. The man then uses “general revelation” and his “God sense,” if they are there, to inform his spirituality of the pervasive power of God that existed long before he believed, but could not reach him because he was not ready.

It does not matter what your background is, your family story, your education, your cultural influences, what’s in your head and heart. Designed is this revelation to break the stranglehold of them on anyone and remake them new. There is no need to appeal to the ontological argument until later, when your faith is taking off.

The prophecy that man makes is a false one, and a deal with the devil, by grounding faith in anything other than special revelation. We start with good intentions, but it dooms theology in the end. We end up relegating Scripture as its equal or inferior while assuring that the inferior remains spoken of with seriousness and piety that belongs only to God’s Word.

It is also inadmissible that all one needs for real beleif is beleif in some strange guy claiming that a messiah rose from the dead. The passage here does not suggest immediacy of a decision on the part of the believers but implies that Paul took his chance to explain with more detail first. Because the entire discourse is not recorded, assumed is that all Paul said was recorded. However, even if this is not the case, and a decision was made immediately after the conclusion of Paul’s very brief speech, belief was still based not upon the preaching of a general gospel or general conception of the Word of God or an unexplained miracle, but specifically on beleif in the prophetic revelation of Christ (vss. 30-31). If that detail was not given by Paul, so what? We know that at some point it must be if a real truth-seeker is to find God.

What happens after this is every bit as explanatory of the event than the event itself. Let us establish the subject context in a particular stream of Scripture. Paul uses this introduction

Paul removed himself from Athens and went to Corinth, and, as we see over and over in Acts, he went into the synagogue. In Chapter 18, we read that he “reasoned in the synagogue every sabbath, and persuaded the Jews and the Greeks.” This language indicates a prolonged teaching session. This teaching is not what we see in our Sunday schools or seminaries today. It’s the exclusive preaching of messianic prophecy and its fulfillment: “And when Silas and Timotheus were come from Macedonia, Paul was pressed in the spirit, and testified to the Jews [that] Jesus [was] Christ.” That, of course, smashes the idea that messianic prophecy was used only for the Jews.

In Romans 1, there seems to be a stronger statement on the value of the argument from natural revelation, but on closer inspection, we see that it is used in the same way:

Romans 1:19-21 (KJV) Because that which may be known of God is manifest in them; for God hath shewed [it] unto them. 20 For the invisible things of him from the creation of the world are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made, [even] his eternal power and Godhead; so that they are without excuse: 21 Because that, when they knew God, they glorified [him] not as God, neither were thankful; but became vain in their imaginations, and their foolish heart was darkened.

Just take a glance at the patristic Fathers at this point. Note: all quotations brought from the Anti-Nicene Fathers of Alexander Roberts and James Donaldson, 10 vols., Hendrickson 2004.

Origen against Celsus:

wicked men are “not wise in things which relate to the understanding, and which are unseen and eternal; but that in busying themselves about things of sense alone, and regarding these as all important, that are wise men of the world; for as there are in existence a multitude of opinions, some of them espousing the cause of the matter of bodies, and asserting that everything is corporeal which has a substantial existence, and that besides these nothing else exists, whether it be called invisible or incorporeal, it also says that these constitute the wisdom of the world, which perishes and fades away.”

Origen says that Paul is speaking of the advanced pretensions of Greek philosophy in claiming to know God, not the common discernment of God directly from the created order.

Origen says Celsus takes the idea of the “world” to be both heaven and earth, but this idea destroys the idea of living persons being immortal and coming to live in that other world. He connects 1 Co 4:1 to Romans 1:20 that those things that were once in the world are removed out and into another. He quotes Rom 1:20 to say that this means that knowledge is not supposed to stop at the objects of sense. Paul says that this is only the first means of obtaining knowledge which he, again, says is through the prophets and the “mysteries.”

Tertullian, in Against Marcion, says that God conceals the truth to these people by the “preparatory apparatus of prophetic obscurity, the understanding of which is open to faith (for ‘if ye will not believe, you shall not understand.’ Note: this is a quote from Isa 7:9, which clearly sets the disbelief in the prophecy of the Messiah that follows as the reason for the prophesied captivity to come): “and he had offenders in those wise and prudent ones who would not seek after God, although He was to be discovered in His so many mighty works, or who rashly philosophized about Him, and thereby furnished to heretics their arts.”

Tertullian’s Treatise on the Soul talks about the visible world as only appearances of Plato’s heavenly forms. But as the intellect is superior to the senses and not to be separated from it, as an instrumentality is not in itself informative of what it signifies, which is invisible. The visible symbols, the natural order, are used as a means of discovery of the unseen.

Tertullian Against Marcion says that it is impossible to know God through natural revelation, charging the heretic Marcion of thinking that something like it is sufficient. Marcion believed that the Old Testament was not part of the canon and described a cruel god that has nothing to do with the New Testament God, who is very kind. He, therefore, thought that the prophetic revelation is not a player in determining the truth. That he “seeks to obtain it without cause from man, who is otherwise accustomed to believe in God from the idea he gets of Him from the testimony of his works, because he has provided no such proof as that whereby man has acquired the knowledge of God.” This knowledge by Tertullian is constantly said to be of the prophets and is this proof which Marcion rejected.1.

In fact, Marcion rewrote the Gospel of Luke to reflect this disbelief and changed for example

(24:25) O foolish and hard of heart to believe in all that the prophets have spoken

O foolish and hard of heart to believe in all that I have told you

Lactantius in the Divine Institutes does much the same. He says that the Greek philosophers could use reason to determine what was false, but could not determine, or be committed to, the determination of what is absolutely true in respect to different kinds of religious belief. He says they were not then able to determine what depresses true religion, which is a religion that “partakes of a divine mystery, and a heavenly secret. No one can know this unless he is taught by God.2.” Taught by God” is not God speaking in your head or God only infuencing your undersatnding, its is a figure for the reading of God’s Word, since God wrote that Word.

Paul in Romans 1 is not accusing the Gentiles of going away from God because they did not believe in natural revelation, but because they twisted it to mean that this represents the limits of revelation. Therefore, the Unknown God.”

Question: do you limit “revelation,” the Word of God, to a “general” revelation, or a particular “special” revelation? If to a general revelation, get out of it, or else allow general revelation to be a judge against you.

Try these articles:

Prophesying, Preaching, and the Prophetic: Passing by Nehushtan

Amen Jesus, Amen, and his Prophetic Worship: Passing by Nehushtan

see Book 3, p.279-280 ↩

book 7 p. 45 ↩

#apostasy #natural revelation #romans 1:20

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