#a biblical drought | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

unholyhelbig · 10 months ago

Text

Crescent 10/12 | Natasha Romanoff x Moonknight!Reader

Summary: When Natasha Romanoff takes a job as head of security for Dina Jackson she has an ulterior motive- to find the tomb of Egyptian artifacts that the art world is racing for. Dina’s disgraced niece is charming, awkward, and under the influence of Khonsu, the God of the Moon.

Warnings: This is 18+, if you are a minor I will block you. Fingering (r reciving), pet names, orgasm control, scars, mentions of pregnancy (Not what you think), suicidal idealations (in a martyr way), Car crashes, mentions of the afterlife, Dom/sub dynamic, horrible grammar

Masterlist | Request a Prompt | Join my Taglist

“God, I need a shower” the words escaped Natahsa’s lips when the door to the hotel closed behind you. It was air conditioned in here, drying the sweat to your skin and making it feel tight, nearly unbearable. For just a moment, you missed the sandy dry heat that Cairo had to offer.

The ex-Avenger in front of you pushed the doors to the balcony open despite her words. There was a soft breeze that blew back the sheer curtains. They moved like phantoms, caressing her arms and her shoulders when she turned to you.

A toxic orange light caught the heat of the day as the sun began to lower behind the horizon. It illuminated her. Natasha’s silhouette reminded you of a statue that Dina had taken you to see when you were young; located in the Louvre. The Winged Victory of Samothrace.

White Parian marble expertly carved in the beautiful shape of a woman draped in cloth. Often, her form was compared to an angel. As angelic as the Greeks could form without a biblical translation. Wings stretched behind her, upturned to the sky. Her hand reached forward, stoney fingers grasping for something- touch, perhaps. The comfort of companionship.

Natasha reached her hand out to you now, and how could you possibly deny her? She blinked at you with deep emerald eyes that were so alive compared to the art, the statues and artifacts, that you surrounded yourself with. There was no death in her gaze, no thrumming orders from an ancient god that meant you no good will.

“Come here,” Natasha purred.

You did what you were best known for and obeyed. One hand snaked around your waist, the other splayed against your shoulder. Her forehead pressed close to yours. You breathed in Natasha Romanoff like she was the only fresh air in the pristine hotel room. Her lavender scent was so strong and grounding. You wanted to savor it.

“You can join me, if you’d like.”

“Hmm,” You hummed, feeling your brow furrow. You were much too deep in her subtle touches to register what she had said. Not for a few moments. Your eyes snapped open, and you pulled back enough to view her amused expression. “In the shower?”

She chuckled “Yes, in the shower y/n. If you want to, that is. We can take turns.”

“We should really conserve water. I’m pretty sure there’s a drought.”

Natasha made a soft noise in the back of her throat. Her smile gave her away, and so did her manicured fingers dragging down your arms. She stopped at your hand and pulled you along with her.

You recalled the first moment you met Natasha. It was in the bathroom of the apartment building your aunt called home. There was such a deep-seeded embarrassment that plagued you when the gorgeous woman caught you using hand soap to wipe away the musk of the journey there.

The two of you had seen each other, sure, but there was something intimate about what she was implying. Natasha had walked in on you changing your shirt a few weeks back. She’d seen the scars that pockmarked your skin, had averted her eyes out of respect. There was a silent agreement as she flicked on the water, that neither of you would turn away.

A slick type of heat filled the room and the sound of falling water eased your nerves. Natasha nodded so slightly, but you were close enough to see it. It was nearly laughable, how nervous you both were. There was an electric feeling that was building up in your chest. It felt like camp, almost, lifting your shirts in the darkness of a fire just to say that you did.

Your skin prickled when you did finally lift your shirt. Any trepidation you felt washed away when Natasha did the same. Of course, you knew she was going to be fit. She’s a secret agent, an Avenger, and before that… before that her muscles must have been carved from the same white Parian marble of the Winged Victory of Samothrace.

Her back was marred with scars that cut deeper than any chisel could. You watched her in the mirror, the way her shoulders tensed and then untensed when she settled. She was the most beautiful thing that you had ever seen.

Your breath caught when her fingers, cold compared to the rest of the room, found the discoloration on your shoulder. A bra strap cut through the middle of the burning mark. She diligently pushed it aside and brushed her thumb over the raised skin.

The mirror had fogged up, so you directed your attention to her eyes. She was frowning at the mark, moving her hand to cup your cheek. You took a step closer, hooking your fingers around the loops of her jeans to pull her flush against you.

Natasha’s fingers moved to the brass button of your pants, unhooking it with a practice ease that made you giggle against the small of her neck. You could feel her smile widen when your fingers found the latch of her black lace bra. You wanted to get your hands on her, get as close to her as possible.

When you kissed the side of her neck she sighed and pushed her head back, giving you full access to the curves and dips of skin. A small whimper escaped her when you pulled away, letting the strip of fabric fall between you. Natasha panted, her chest pushing out. You wanted so badly to palm her.

“No touching, malen'kaya luna.” she demanded in a low growl, instead, flicking her eyes to your own chest.

She was really going to make you do this yourself? The deadpan look she gave you was all the answer you needed. You had never moved with so much fervor before, stretching unnaturally until you found what you were looking for. When the bra fell between you both, exposing your top-half to the Black Widow. You beamed at her proudly.

“Happy?”

“Very.”

It was like a game of strip poker at this point; she removed her pants, you painstakingly focused on your socks, much to her dismay. Eventually the two of you were naked in front of one another, taking in the soft curves of your bodies, the softness of her skin, the constellations of freckles.

Natasha reached her hand out to you and led you into the shower, your breath mingling with the steam. The water burned for just a moment, eliciting a sharp gasp until you felt Natasha’s hands soothe over the warmth.

She closed the distance between the two of you once more, her tongue sliding against your lips, begging for entry that you folded into without problem. Her hands found your breasts and squeezed. You mewled into her mouth at the sensation, craving the way she swallowed the sound. You were determined to make her feel the same.

“We’re alone, right?”

Her words were a distant growl, nearly drowned by the flow of water. You went to nod, to respond to her, when her lips attached to the pulse point on your neck, she cupped your center in one fluid motion, applying pressure but not giving into your silent demands.

An unholy noise escaped you at the sensation and you tried to ignore how attractive the knowing smirk against your skin was. Part of you wanted to fight that sensation, and the other part- well, the other part wanted to crumble beneath her.

One salacious finger traced across your folds, brushing your clit and you swallowed back a shiver. Your nails dug into the smooth skin of her back, head dropping to her shoulder. “Natasha,”

“You’re so wet for me.”

“We’re in the shower,” You gritted out.

She gave you a playful frown “Well, in that case, I can just-“

Natasha attempted to move her hand, but you grasped at her wrist desperately, holding her in place. Her pupils were blown out, stealing the green from her stare. A hungry breath escaped her lips and fanned your collarbone.

“If you’re going to be that needy, darling, I’ll need you to beg for it.”

Beg for it? Ha! Beg for it. It had been two years since you’d been touched by anyone other than a magic wand that was tired from use. There was always a small piece of you that was afraid of Konshu’s lurid interruption; but even he respected your boundaries.

You weren’t one to beg, not really. Anything that you could do with another person, you could do with your own fingers. Though, with Natasha’s hand cupping your cunt, her other one raking perfectly manicured nails across water-worn skin, you would resign yourself to begging. Hell; you get on your knees and worship this woman if you had the chance.

Her eyes gave her away, that animalistic lust flashing like canine teeth dripping with saliva. The Black Widow was nothing, if not patient. She’d wait for you to decide despite knowing exactly the choice you had made.

“Natty,” you nearly whined, blushing at how desperate your voice had become. “Can you please fuck me. I want to come on your fingers.”

“All you had to do was ask,”

The words were whispered in her husky voice that drove you wild, yet, she only gave you a small moment to let her words wash over you before she inserted her finger inside of you. A moan moved past your throat at the sudden intrusion. Natasha’s lips were on yours, swallowing the sound.

“More,”

“More? Wow, you really are desperate. How long has it been, detka?”

Her question was punctuated by another finger. They curled into you, pumping in and out of your pussy with a stamina that could only accompany an ex-avenger. She was an expert at this, her touch reaching further than your own awkward efforts under the alien light of a perfume billboard.

“Nat, I’m going to…”

You gasped against her, nails digging into her back, tracing the curved line of her spine. You couldn’t possibly get any closer to her, your breasts pushed flush to her own. She groaned at the sensation and the sound alone made you want to lose control.

“Go ahead, darling. Come for me.”

Natasha’s words were enough to let you give into the building sensation in the center of your stomach. You let out a cry as you tightened around her fingers, riding them greedily through your orgasm. She continued to work them inside of you, nursing you down from the high. You were shaking against her. How could you ever think a vibrator was enough?

She pulled her fingers from your cunt and brought them to her lips, sucking your wetness from them with a satisfied moan. The sight alone was enough to have you craving more. But you had manners, you’d been nothing, if not loyal.

It was your turn to satisfy her.

Sleep refused to fall over you despite the nights various activities. Natasha was tangled against you, having drifted into unconsciousness. You’d both been worn out from travel- from staying under the steam of the shower for much too long, and then continuing to taste her when the two of you vowed to get some rest.

Natasha’s arm was around your midsection, her nose pushed against her side of your neck. Your legs were tangled. You held her closer than you had ever held anyone before. The last thing you wanted to do was let her go. You couldn’t. You wouldn’t.

The occasional car horn drifted up from the city of Cairo below. The stars that lined the velvet sky bled so easily into the man-made boroughs below. Past the outer-limits was a vast desert that called to you, almost dreamlike. You longed to feel the warmth of the sand, smell the crispness of land without civilization.

Natasha drew in a sharp breath and you froze, her muscles tightened for just a moment in her slumber. She finally relaxed and tightened her grip against the smooth skin of your stomach. You stared at her with so much love and admiration in your eyes, reflecting the twinkling lights from the city.

If you were to die now, or tomorrow, while you fumbled your way through the Valley of Kings under Khonsu’s control, you figured you would be content. Just being able to know Natasha Romanoff like this, to lay with her like this, would be enough. Even if it were just for a fleeting moment.

You asked me if I have ever been infatuated with anyone before.

Khonsu had taken a moment of warm Egypt wind to materialize within the whisps of white curtains. You drew in your own breath, but relaxed. Intrusions such as this were expected, but much less welcome when you were only scarcely covered by a top sheet. You rushed to pull the fabric over your chest, cheeks enflamed.

He’d never shared much with you, if anything at all. If there was more than empty sockets where his eyes used to be, you would be able to see his vulnerability. Instead, you gave him a small nod, as if not trying to scare him away.

There was a woman once. Ruia. Her son was a high priest of an outlying village, a benevolent ruler that welcomed the Gods with open arms. Back then it was normal for us to show ourselves. There was no need for an avatar.

You’d heard of this from Layla. Her God was much more forthcoming with her history. She was much more forthcoming with every piece of information. Khonsu pulled away from the swaying curtains, pacing with nervousness at the foot of the bed. His staff was gripped in his wrapped hand.

Ruia and I fell in love quickly, and passionately He lilted his head, as if eluding to the woman wrapped around you at this very moment, her soft form, her rhythmic breathing. We lived in absolute bliss for fifty years.

“What happened?” You whispered.

I am a God that can manipulate time, but I cannot stop it. Slowing it down is one thing, but Ruia… Ruia loved me with everything she had. I could spend forever with her, I wanted to spend forever with her. But she wasn’t interested in infinite life. She wanted finality. She wants me to join her when I am ready.

There wasn’t a bitterness in Khonsu’s voice, there was just resignation. He looked down at the carpet, at the moon that hung like a broken fishbone in the sky. Then back at you with a sadness that was written all over his skin-stripped features.

“Are you ready?”

His height shrunk when he knelt at the bottom of the bed, still towering over the two of you. His shadow was stretched over the sheets, over your body. The half-moon of his staff hung like a blade over your head. Natasha did not stir.

Are you?

The Valley of Kings was a tomb. The answer had been right in front of you, carved into the gold finish of Lady Madja’s coffin. You’d been so focused on the map that you hadn’t thought of what it would lead you to. That seemed so trivial compared to the current cat and mouse game that you were playing with your aunt.

A cool breeze wafted from the Nile, it’s water was a different, vibrant type of blue that New York could never produce. Boats drifted against the current, their captains like ants among a hill. It was easier to focus on them, on the sunrise, than the looming trip ahead of you.

After Khonsu had left last night, you hadn’t gone back to sleep. You’d tightened your grip on Natasha and placed a soft kiss against her temple. She’d still been asleep when you’d gotten a message from Layla, asking to meet her. She promised coffee and Feteer Meshaltet from her favorite spot.

Though, you didn’t have much of an appetite, you accepted the baked pastry regardless, taking small nibbles as the two of you walked along the length of grass that bordered the Nile. Layla watched you as you watched the water. Neither of you said anything for a long time.

“I’ve gotten work from Mark that Dina and Chip left on a flight a few hours after yours. They should be landing by nightfall.”

When that didn’t draw an answer from you, Layla stopped and waved her ring-clad hand in front of your face. You blinked a few times at her, then frowned down at your barely-touched breakfast. You were brought back to yourself and hated the pit that formed in your stomach.

“You with me Moon Bitch?”

“Moon Bitch?”

“You’re the avatar for a Moon deity and you’re kind of a bitch. Especially under his hand.”

Yeah, you supposed you were kind of a bitch these last two years. It seemed stupid now, drawing away from your family, from your friends, from your emotions, just because a pile of celestial bones had ordered you to. None of it mattered. Nothing mattered except for Natasha.

“Do you ever think about what happens when you die?” You asked, passing her your unfinished pastry. She fisted the white and red wax paper and lilted her head to the side, much like your master had the night before.

“We both have died.”

“Do you remember it?”

Layla clenched and unclenched her jaw before she frowned at the food and dropped it into the waste bin that lingered on the edges of a patch of green. Neither of you had much of an appetite. Food wasn’t something you thought about in the face of your ultimate demise.

She shoved her hands into the pockets of her shorts, “I remember the snowstorm that night, how cold it was. It was barely visible but we’d gotten a call, you know? A woman was in labor and we were the only truck on service.”

You wanted to put your hand on your own and tell her stop but something held you back. She’d never been willing to share this with you before. You’d seen Taweret hit her with a warning stare when she’d been taunted mercilessly by the avatar of Mandulis. They’d always taken the high road.

Khonsu had found great amusement in the teasing. You had to swallow the lump in your throat and stand by his throne, staring down at the way the torches within the white sandstone flickered. There was a deep resentment towards yourself that day, how you’d abandoned her in that moment. If not for Khonsu’s bony hand engulfing your shoulder, you would have pushed forward.

Layla took a deep breath “The ambulance hit some black ice and spun out of control. Through a guardrail. I’d been flung from the vehicle and into a snowbank. I could see the highway above me, the headlights of a passerby who stopped to help. He saw me first and rushed to help, but I told him about the pregnant woman who was still in the back of the ambulance. I told him to go to her, and he listened.

“I fell asleep in the snow and when I woke up, I was in this stretching field of reeds. It was the warmest I had ever felt, it radiated from my core and all of that fear- all of that pain from the crash, had vanished just as quickly as it had come.”

It wasn’t like that for you, but you weren’t about to tell Layla that. She shrugged dismissively and started her slow stroll once more. You took a few moments before following her, shoulders drooping. Of course it was different for her, warmer, softer, acceptable.

“That’s when Taweret found me and offered me a second chance at life. It was almost… hard to leave that field, to enter the harshness of the world again, but I’m glad that I did.”

You nodded, swallowing the dryness in your throat. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”

“Mm,” She hummed, frowning at you “Is there something you’re not telling me. Considering we’re having a group share.”

Was there? While Khonsu had implied that this was a suicide mission for him, he hadn’t said it outwardly. Through the course of your toxic relationship, you learned to read him. Despite trying to play it cool, he had the subtlety of a cinderblock.

“Did you know Khonsu had a wife?” You asked her another question, not ready to ponder the answer to her own.

Layla shook her head, using the back of her hand to wipe the sticky sweat from her forehead.

“He came to me last night after Natasha and I spent some time together. I think we remind him of what he used to have with Ruia. It was like he made his choice. Like he was done.”

She stopped and turned with a ferocity that was enough to snap her neck. There was confusion and then anger on her face. Layla wasn’t daft, she knew exactly what you were alluding to. There were Gods that had grown tired of their immortality before. The prospect of watching the world around you die had them craving the ever-falling sands. The deity equivalent to ending it all.

“No.” She closed the distance between the two of you “He can’t just let you die!”

You shushed her when a group of mothers walking their children around in strollers shot them wary looks. They were sidestepped and your voice found an even and soft tone. “Khonsu is the one keeping me alive, of course he can. Either way, I’m not meant to get the happy ending.”

Layla looked at you sadly, the tension in her body stifled with sudden realization. There was an odd type of peace that fell over her features, the same resignation that you felt last night. If you refused to take him to the Valley of Kings, then he’d sever the link right there and you wouldn’t get a chance to say goodbye to Natasha the way that you wanted.

But, if you led him there, if you took him through the cold walls and the quiet crypts, he’d give you some form of mercy for your service these past two and a half years. That mercy would be in the form of one last moment with the woman that had crashed into your life unceremoniously.

“I’ve been labeled as a mistake. A worm, and I finally found the one person who never questioned my potential.” You grasped both of her hands, sadly running your thumbs over her bruised knuckles. “I’m not meant to stop Khonsu, I’m meant to lead him to his love.”

“And what about yours?”

“She’ll be okay.” You gave her palms a squeeze. “You’ll make sure of it.”

#Natasha Romanoff #Natasha Romanov #Natasha Romanoff x reader #Natasha Romanoff x you #Natasha Romanoff x y/n #Natasha Romanov x you #Natasha Romanov x y/n #Natasha Romanov x reader #Moonknight #Moonknight reader #Marvel #Marvel fanfiction #layla el faouly #I don't know anything about egypt lol #I'm doing my best I promise

131 notes · View notes

idvconfessions · 2 months ago

Note

what i dont get is people harassing others for the characters they play. ive been called racist for playing hastur and ithaqua bc their source material is lovecraft. meanwhile, at least a solid 60% of idv lore is taken directly from old ass inherently racist and sexist literature but these specific representations of the characters are now essentially owned in full by netease because that's the company's take on em

not to mention how for about two years, there was a massive content drought where they were just releasing character after character without much (if any) lore for the sake of the gacha system, so of course there's going to be multiple characters from the same author/source

an odd but interesting thing, ithaqua is hastur's offspring in the original source material, but in idv ithaqua doesnt have any relation to hastur at all. netease just takes the NAMES of characters and goes from there. like it's clear that it's akin to an anime having a character literally go by the name of "Satan" but have almost no relation to the actual biblical figure

therefore, there is barely if any relation back to racism from the source material. it's just that the characters are inspired by those character concepts, or are only using the names. there's also the fact that with a character like phillipe, they are referencing a theory that was very popular around that era of time. it's a very racist theory that has been defunct for ages, phrenology that is, but there is no promotion of it as being valid or good. just that phillipe is a man of his era and therefore studied such things

much like how jack is a sadosexual probs sexist af man. were i to play jack, would that make me a sadosexual sexist murderer? fuck no!

Idv fans are often so close minded when it comes to things like this. People need to learn that player ≠ character.

#identity v #idv #idv confessions #idv ithaqua #idv hastur #idv philippe

25 notes · View notes

chnt-confessions · 6 months ago

Note

this is a rant that spirals im warning you on incoherence

hi. I think theres something in the fact that marisol is a shortening of “our lady of solitude” in spanish. (if i am asked why it is spanish i WILL go into a rant abt the colonization of the Philippines)

Like, shes one of the first characters mentioned and was THE first to notice elijah who, also i think elijah was chosen VERY specifically as the prophet to name him after the prophet elijah from the bible as opposed to say, moses, enoch or joshua (WOW joshua is a biblical name i wish i was lying) (i feel like its obvious he wouldnt be named after enoch, his main book isnt even biblical canon) Why? the sheer amount of just- godly smiting Elijah causes, but also the fact that he resurrected a woman's son. speaking of a woman’s son, cut the baby in half. (i was raised w this story, so i wish everyone would know it, but obv some wont) Essentially two women bring king solomon a baby and say one is the mother, he says cut the baby in half and only the real mother cares. Which, weird. Anyway another one of king solomon’s names was JEDIDIAH. King Solomon said to kill a child, Elijah resurrected one, but not before causing the mother a lot of grief. Elijah also got taken into heaven by a golden chariot of fire and horses which I THINK mirrors the pyre. Also Sydney is one of the few non-biblical name of the main characters, it coming from old english and meaning “of the wide meadow”. which, huh theres a lot of nature names in chnt. Soren, as a name is derived from a CATHOLIC SAINT who is the patron against bad luck a drought, thats weird but if in soren’s head makes sense that he’d believe that.

uuhhhh will come back w more rambling once i unlock anymore core catholic memories™

WOAAHH

#camp here & there #camp here and there #chnt #ch&t #elijah volkov #soren baltimore #marisol yuchengco

43 notes · View notes

artandthebible · 3 months ago

Text

Prophet Elijah and the Widow of Sarepta

Artist: Bernardo Strozzi (Italian, 1581–1644)

Genre: Religious Art

Date: 1630's

Medium: Oil on Canvas

Collection: Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna, Austria

The story of the Prophet Elijah and the Widow of Zarephath is a biblical story that appears in 1 Kings 17:8–24. In the story, Elijah encounters a widow and her son while they are gathering sticks in the town of Zarephath. The widow, who is struggling with a drought and has run out of food, invites Elijah into her home and uses her last bit of flour and oil to bake for him. Elijah blesses the widow and her son, promising that their supplies will never run out.

#prophet elijah #widow of sarepta #miracle #religious art #bible scene #bible verse #old testament #book of 1 kings #christian faith #bernardo strozzi #italian art #17th century painting #italian painter #christianity #christian art #young boy #flour #oil

17 notes · View notes

reality-detective · 1 year ago

Text

Somalia: More than 100 dead and 700,000 people are at risk. It may be the worst disaster ever to hit the country.

Let me ask this 👇

When was the last time you remember so much flooding in countries that usually suffer from drought? Do you think it's just a coincidence? Has it registered that this is a biblical time yet? 🤔

#pay attention #educate yourselves #educate yourself #knowledge is power #reeducate yourself #reeducate yourselves #think for yourselves #think about it #think for yourself #do your homework #do your own research #do some research #ask yourself questions #question everything #wake up america #wake up world

47 notes · View notes

noperopesaredope · 10 months ago

Text

Disclaimer: I barely know what I'm talking about. I'm just putting some thoughts out there because I'm honestly confused about some things. These are the words of someone who can barely understand what anyone is saying and also trusts no one on the internet. I've accepted that I am too stupid to understand this conflict and no matter how much research I try to do, I will never understand any of it. Believe me, I have tried. These are the ramblings of a confused idiot who is out of the loop on everything and will never really be in the loop.

You can add your own thoughts or disagree. But don't yell at me for my thoughts. I've tried to educate myself, but that has failed. But I still want to throw some thoughts into the discussion using my limited understand of everything. I will likely be turning off notifications to this post if too many people shout at me for not understand shit or agreeing with them, so probably don't try to change my mind. Just say what you want to say and add your own essays in the reblogs.

~~~~~~~~~

I've been trying not to say too much about the Israel-Palestine conflict (not just Gaza, but in general) since it's so complicated and messy and I'm not informed enough on another country's massive, decades-long conflict for me to feel comfortable commenting on it. However, I have had a little nugget in my brain that has been bothering me for a while now. A common Zionist argument I occasionally see is that Palestinians aren't actually "indigenous" to the region of Israel-Palestine, and that they are invaders. They came from somewhere else to live in that area, and therefore aren't "the true people of Israel." But I find this argument rather silly and a bit hard to believe.

First off, and I'm not even saying this as an argument against Israel, but isn't the whole point of Jewish mythology (mythology is the technical term) that Israel is "the Promised Land?" As in, the end point? The final destination rather than the start? Maybe I'm confused and need to brush up on Jewish mythology, but from what I remember, the Hebrews came from a different region in the Middle East, then migrated to the region where Israel is. Therefore, they didn't exactly "originate" from there either.

It's also kind of hard to believe that there weren't already other people who were living there already. And then Abraham and his family moved to Egypt anyways due to drought, and the Hebrews were there for hundreds of years before coming back to Israel. And by the time they'd come back, a bunch of other ethnic groups had already made their homes in Israel, as people had been doing likely long before Abraham and his family first came to the region.

And even if Abraham and his family originally came from that region, Abraham already lived in civilization. Civilization still existed there, and people were still living there. Abraham was basically part of a different ethnic group before he created the Hebrews. Therefore, the Hebrews would be from Israel, but so would all of the other people already living there who weren't descendants of Abraham.

Whether or not you believe that the region belonged to the Hebrews by the will of God, all those other mfs were still living there first. You can say that you own the land because God said so, but you can't truthfully say that all the people who were there before Abraham was even born are not native to the region.

Even if we're not looking at Biblical accounts, realistically discussing archaeology and patterns throughout history leads us to the conclusion that there was no singular native ethnic group in Israel.

It is well known that Israel has had, like, hundreds of different peoples who have lived there at different points throughout history. It has switched around a lot of times, and has definitely had multiple ethnic groups living there at the same time. It is a region that has historically been diverse, and many have called it home.

On top of that, who is to say that Palestinians aren't actually also natives to that region? I've heard some people say that the Palestinians are decended from Arabs who invaded the region, but is it really true that all of them are of Arab decent? Again, this area is incredibly diverse, and I'm pretty sure it was ethnically diverse even before Israel was founded. It's unlikely that

Also, haven't the Palestinians been living there for thousands of years anyways? Because in that case, I'd say it's questionable to declare a pretty diverse group of Middle Eastern brown folks to not be native to a region they have been living in for hundreds/thousands of years.

Especially when a large number of those who moved to Israel when it was founded (refounded?) back in 1948 were of white European decent. I believe that Israel is still the homeland of the Jewish people, but is a white Jewish person whose family has been living in Europe for hundreds of years really more native to the Middle East than a brown person whose family has been living in Palestine for hundreds of years?

Like, I see these white ass mfs sitting here saying "I belong here more than you" to these brown people who have been there for generations. This statement is not about Jewish folks who have been living in the Middle East for generations, mainly just those of European decent who declare that the land belongs to them more than those who have been there forever.

I still believe that the Hebrews should be considered "indigenous" to Israel, but to say that they are more indigenous seems disingenuous when both groups migrated to the region. No one group has ever been the true native group of that area, and I feel that either side arguing that the other is not native to the region is full of shit.

We don't know who is native to the region. We barely even know if Israelis and Palestinians each are made of singular ethnic groups. So I feel like declaring the "One True Indigenous Group" is pointless and redundant to the discussion. Either both are or neither are. Shut the fuck up.

34 notes · View notes

goatbeard-goatbeard · 1 year ago

Text

I’m extremely curious who heaven is planning to use for the Second Coming in Good Omens, because GO!Jesus seems very kind and human and Second Coming Jesus is… not that.

Like it isn’t an “oh normally I’m healing and preaching but sometimes I chase after rich people with whips” situation. It’s 24/7 Angy Judgment, sword-coming-out-of-his-mouth, riding a white horse through blood flowing up to its bridle, throwing people in the lake of fire type energy.

Revelation Jesus kind of sucks tbh, the antichrist is a lot more chill. Adam Young’s vibe is honestly pretty biblically accurate. The main danger of the biblical antichrist (for people who believe he’s part of the end times and not political commentary on a Roman emperor) is that people like him too much. Aka more than God. And since God is a petty jealous weirdo, that’s a huge problem.

Most of the bad shit that’s supposed to happen in the end times (giant stinging insects, sores, burning sunlight, darkness, rivers of blood, etc.) is explicitly, textually coming from heaven. It’s angels blowing trumpets and pouring out bowls of wrath. One of the first events to kick off the end times is 2 prophets from God who prove they’re from God by… causing a bunch of droughts. Gee I wonder why people keep choosing earth over heaven, heaven is so persuasive!!! So anyway the antichrist kills them.

Now, he does get kind of Spicy toward Christianity in general, but in a world where heaven actually exists and keeps pelting everyone with droughts and plagues, I can understand the impulse. It’s still wrong, but I get it.

One aspect of that religious persecution is making people take his mark in order to buy or sell (sidenote: this is why some evangelicals are WILDLY afraid of getting Secretly Microchipped… and a very small minority will even avoid credit cards). The main reason that’s bad is because this apparently counts as worshipping him. So anyone who does it is auto-damned. Once they have the mark, their fate is sealed, and they can never be saved from eternal torture in hell.

But… like, the damnation part happens because God is pissed at how much people prefer the antichrist. Almost everyone chooses “the prince of this world” over heaven, and heaven is choosing to flip over the board and throw an absolute tantrum rather than lose. It’s made very clear that it’s Jesus chucking people into hell, and he’s doing it because they chose temporary comfort on earth over eternal rewards. But he could just. You know. Not do that.

So Jesus is arguably the main antagonist of the end times. Unfortunately for GO!heaven, they seem to be stuck with a pretty mild-mannered version of him. Now, of course they were never planning to do this exact version — the Bible isn’t Agnes Nutter (and even if it was, this is a very specific reading of it that happens to be popular among modern evangelicals). But if their goal is to end the world, it would still be helpful to have a Worse Jesus.

…they could probably manage the bowl/trumpet stuff though, because that just requires random angels. Sandalphon would for sure be up for it.

#I cannot emphasize enough how much End Times Jesus SUCKS #like when people are getting frustrated at evangelicals for their weird judgy version of Jesus #99% of the time it’s Revelation Jesus #good omens #good omens 2 #good omens spoilers #good omens 2 spoilers #good omens speculation #good omens analysis #good omens theories #good omens theory #archangel aziraphale #ex christian #exvangelical #good omens meta #sandalphon good omens #good omens sandalphon #adam young #it izzz written

19 notes · View notes

shallowseeker · 11 months ago

Note

Do you have any thoughts on the Empty's "you made it loud?"

The two things that come to mind are some old-school religious systems where elder gods find humans "noisy."

Enlil comes to mind, finding humans so noisy and annoying, that he can't sleep, so he sent plagues, drought, and flood.

The country was as noisy as a bellowing bull The God grew restless at their racket, Enlil had to listen to their noise. He addressed the great gods, 'The noise of mankind has become too much, I am losing sleep over their racket. Give the order [to kill] (Dalley 18)

This of course makes me think of the Shadow's need for peace as well as Amara's complaint in season 11, that she wanted peace and quiet.

AMARA: Spoiled brat. I needed solitude and he needed a fan club, so he made all that. Then when I complained, he stuffed me in a hole for eons – with your help.

///

The other more ominous association is Jack from Lord of the Flies. The story terminates with Jack as authoritarian ruler over the brainy-and-shelter oriented characters Ralph and Piggy.

This has some...implications for how Jack Kline terminates his journey with a Castiel-coded destiny, doing what Godstiel could not...becoming a better, more powerful God, and taking up Castiel's family's tragic motif of becoming absent, distant.

It's a great tragedy, I think, that the end of his journey illuminates the very worst of Cas and Dean:

CAS: What sounds good to me is Jack fulfilling his destiny. DEAN: Okay, yeah, but… icing on the cake? I mean, Chuck wanted Cain and Abel, and… now we’re going all Biblical on him. Killed by his own grandson. That sounds right to me.

Ultimately, it is the military tribe of Heaven that maintains its ultimate power, even moreso than the hunters.

from 14x19 script

///

Jack ends the story, not as a human or a hunter for "the little guy" and championing small-time survival, but as a supreme authoritarian motif, a Heavenly King. (The Good king fallacy, imho.)

You'd think the conch motif from Lord of the Flies is a reach when it comes to SPN, except that Belphagor takes on the motif, using Lillth's Crook in a similar manner to the conch, drowning everything out as he moves to take power.

Cas destroys the crook in a fit of overpowered rage (per script), going so far as to incinerate Jack beyond any hope of recovering him into his body.

Since Belphagor is of Hell, and Cas can more easily see the problem of Heavenly-authoritarian power here. All the same, time and again, like most of us tragically, we're often okay with our own child taking power. And Jack ultimately does just that, from the questionable practice of eating hearts to going along with Billie's self-annihilatory plan.

CAS: And I know now that this child must be born with all of his power. (12x19)

And

SAM: Jack, you… you ate their hearts? JACK: I… I had to. DEAN (to CAS): And you let him? [CAS nods.] DEAN [frowning but unwilling to have an argument] Hmm. (15x11)

I actually think Castiel has a very lovely come-to-Jesus moment in 15x18 Despair with, "We don't care about you because you fit into some grand plan...but because you're you." But like with Dean, he only comes to his senses after Jack's died twice. And it's too late!

I'm sure there's more I can think of, but it's been a very long time since I've read Lord of the Flies. :-) I'll add to this if I think of anything else, but those are the main two that come to mind!

#jack stuff #asks #the empty #you made it loud #the corruption of jack kline #jack kline #jack lucifer parallels

16 notes · View notes

rjzimmerman · 2 months ago

Text

I Broke Down About Hurricane Milton on Live TV. What Happened Next Surprised Me. (New York Times)

Excerpt from this New York Times story:

Just before I went on the air on Oct. 7, the National Hurricane Center declared that Hurricane Milton had become a Category 5 monster. When I saw the barometric pressure numbers reported by a hurricane hunter aircraft, I did a double take.

The anchor introduced me, and then it was my turn to speak. I clenched my eyes. “It is an incredible, incredible, incredible hurricane. It has dropped,” I said, my voice quivering, “50 millibars in 10 hours!” I knew it meant it was going to continue growing in strength, and rival some of the strongest hurricanes ever recorded. I paused, lowered my head and apologized for losing my composure.

“This is just horrific,” I said.

The unplanned moment went viral. From Gen Z on TikTok to boomers on Facebook, the reactions were overwhelmingly supportive. People thanked me for showing humanity, for being emotional about increasingly dangerous weather extremes. So many people understood and identified with what I expressed.

The moment revealed a shared experience of climate anxiety across generations. It’s time that we channel that into action.

Climate and environmental degradation are happening so quickly that we’re watching them come to pass almost in real time.

Hurricanes of the early 21st century are not like the ones of the 20th century. A greater proportion of tropical cyclones around the planet are reaching violently catastrophic category 4 and 5 intensity. It’s not that there are more tropical storms overall. It’s that more of the ones that form are going through rapid intensification cycles like what we saw with Milton and Helene. Those types of mega hurricanes take more lives and wreck more livelihoods.

Frightening hurricanes are just one symptom of global warming. Add longer and more intense heat waves, heavier rainstorms, whiplash from drought to biblical deluge, sea levels rising at an accelerated rate and greater health effects, and the risks we face today will only compound in the future.

It is all those born into this relentless era of extreme weather have ever known. As the 33-year-old NBC meteorologist Angie Lassman told me, “It’s so heavy to know where we’re headed, to be so young and feel so helpless.” She’s just one of many thinking this way.

#Hurricane Milton #climate change

6 notes · View notes

yallemagne · 4 months ago

Text

So I don't believe in dreams having any meaning. Besides like maybe since dreams are where you process your day to day unfiltered... but like obv we ain't in biblical times. My kingdom isn't about to face seven years of plenty followed by seven years of drought and famine. But I keep fucking having dreams where I'm still in highschool. And I'm always late and rushing to something. And I always forget my binder. I have dreams where I'm just completely naked in public and there's not really any repercussions, no one acknowledges it, I'm just naked in public and it's just like "oh well, should have remembered to get dressed in the morning". Like what the fuck.

Like last night I had a dream that I had packed my lunch... but I just. I tossed a bunch of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches into a drawstring bag unwrapped. Like some of them were wrapped and I guess after a point I just gave up?? But why did I make so many sandwiches I never even ate them? and Then I had to get on the bus and it was a doozy. And I was like- I had a moment of lucidity- I was like "why am i on the bus with my friend? we carpool" and then my brain supplied "oh their mother's vehicle got repossessed so they can't drive to school" And I had accepted it in the dream except that that ISN'T EVEN TRUE????

We never even got out of the school parking lot. Dunno why we were even in the school parking lot because the buses park somewhere else.

#update

2 notes · View notes

beardedmrbean · 9 months ago

Text

A chart from California's Department of Water Resources shows that the state's lakes and reservoirs have hit their healthiest water levels in more than a decade.

The state has faced an abnormally wet winter as moisture-laden storms and atmospheric rivers dumped a deluge of rain and snow beginning in January. Heavy rain helped supplement some of the state's reservoirs, while a "biblical" blizzard in March significantly improved the state's snowpack situation. Once the snowpack begins to melt in the spring, the reservoirs will continue to improve.

On Thursday, extreme storm chaser Colin McCarthy shared the updated chart, revealing the positive improvement to California's major reservoirs.

"California's water storage is at its healthiest levels in over a decade," McCarthy posted on X (formerly Twitter).

"Virtually every major reservoir in the state has average to above-average storage, with a substantial 115% of average snowpack still to melt," he continued. "The last two years have been an amazing reprieve from the multiple brutal, record-breaking droughts that have plagued the state in the last decade."

Newsweek reached out to the California Department of Water Resources by email for comment.

Lake Cachuma is at 100 percent of its capacity, and several reservoirs aren't far behind, including Casitas Lake at 98 percent capacity, Lake Shasta at 95 percent capacity, Diamond Valley Lake at 90 percent capacity and Lake Oroville at 89 percent capacity.

Several reservoirs are above 100 percent of their historical average, according to the chart. They are Lake Shasta, Lake Oroville, New Bullards Bar Reservoir, Folsom Lake, Lake Camanche, New Melones Lake, Don Pedro Lake, Lake McClure, Trinity Lake, Pine Flat Lake, Millerton Lake, Diamond Valley Lake, Lake Sonoma, Lake Casitas and Cachuma Lake.

A few of the state's reservoirs are still below their historical average, such as San Luis Reservoir, which, at 74 percent full, is at 87 percent of its historical average, and Castaic Lake, which is 79 percent full and at 92 percent of its historical average.

The improvement comes after the state battled years of severe drought that depleted its lakes and reservoirs.

Many of the lakes and reservoirs recovered last year after an abnormally wet winter saturated the state. After similar wet weather this winter season, AccuWeather meteorologists believed that California's water situation was in such an improved condition that the state wouldn't struggle with drought until at least 2026.

In some cases this winter, water officials even had to release water from some reservoirs, such as Lake Oroville, because the water level was too high for this time of year. Despite the release, Lake Oroville is still 11 feet above 2023 levels and 120 feet above 2022 levels.

#nunyas news #thank you jesus

6 notes · View notes

haggishlyhagging · 1 year ago

Text

The statement in Genesis that God created humanity to rule the earth has often been taken as a license for human beings to do whatever they want with nature. In the Bible, it clearly does not mean that. On the contrary, all of nature is seen as dependent upon the actions of humankind. Ancient thought sees nature, the animals, humanity, and divinity as lying along a continuum, with the gods, in a sense, mediating between humanity and nature:

HUMANITY———GODS———NATURE

In the Bible, the diagram is different:

NATURE———HUMANITY———GOD

God's actions towards nature depend on human activity. God cares about nature; after all, the purpose of giving laws immediately after the flood is precisely to prevent nature from being contaminated again. But God's behavior towards nature is reactive. In effect, humans determine what God does, not by prayers and manipulation, but by their behavior. In this way, humanity mediates between God and nature. The ultimate responsibility for what happens to the natural world rests on the behavior of human beings towards nature, towards God, and towards each other.

This monotheist conceptualization of the world is a stark philosophy of action. God's actions are predictable in fixed response to behavior. God's solo mastery would seem to lay stress on Israel's having liturgical and sacrificial interaction with God, to propitiate and manipulate the result. But, at the same time, the prophets announce that such ritual activity will not help. The prophets emphasize that neither Israel's history nor the fertility of her land depended on worship-rituals. Fertility rituals are condemned as faithlessness, and even the officially prescribed sacrificial worship can not ensure peace and fertility. Only non-ritual activity—fidelity and ethical behavior—bring about the well-being of the people.

This concept of fertility and natural survival puts enormous responsibility in human hands, for the whole world depends on human behavior. The "monotheist myth" in Psalm 82 relates that it was not always so: God had a council of divine beings who were charged with upholding social justice. When they did not do so, the whole world began to totter. As a result, God made these gods mortal. Since then, God has reigned alone over all the nations. There are no longer any gods—and it is up to humanity to ensure that the foundations of the earth do not totter. The way to do this is right behavior and social justice. This is an enormous task, but the way to accomplish it has been revealed: God has instructed and continues to instruct the people as to how they are to behave. The laws and instructions of Israel have a cosmic significance. The people have to listen, to learn, and to observe in order to fulfill their duty to uphold the universe. Disobeying these instructions can lead to catastrophe, and as pollution builds up, even repentance can no longer help.

This theology of God's reactivity locates the fault for disaster in Israel. Maintaining faith in the constant predictable behavior of God, it "blames the victim" with ever more exacting faults. After the exile, when droughts still continued, the prophet Haggai blamed the people for not having built a new temple, and the prophet Malachi attributed the droughts to the lack of full tithing. If God has absolute mastery, and God is always good, then evil and hardships must always be due to the evil of humanity.

The general problem of theodicy (the justification of God's behavior in the face of adversity) continues to occupy theological thought. The radical nature of fully developed biblical monotheism, with the great responsibility that it places on human behavior, has often been softened by belief in various supernatural powers. After the Babylonian exile, the skies are once again peopled with celestial beings, the angels. Still later, forces of evil were believed to be abroad in the world, rivaling the forces of light. The idea of ultimate human responsibility and divine reactivity has continued to be misunderstood into our own day. Western culture has assumed that dominion over the world implied a freedom to act at will without concern over neveative consequences towards the earth and its fertility. The modern ecology movement has sometimes sought to find a philosophical-theological rationale for its concern for the earth in the pagan continuum. The biblical theory of God's reactivity is biblical monotheism's way of grounding humanity in its interconnectedness with nature and its ultimate responsibility for nature's well-being and survival.

The absorption by God of all the forces of nature leads humanity onto center stage. Biblical monotheism is essentially anthropocentric, though not in the sense that the world exists to serve humanity. Rather, in the absence of other divine beings, God's audience, partners, foils, and competitors are all human beings, and it is on their interaction with God that the world depends.

-Tikva Frymer-Kensky, In the Wake of the Goddesses: Women, Culture, and the Biblical Transformation of Pagan Myth

#Tikva Frymer-Kensky #monotheism #ecological awareness #anthropocentrism

9 notes · View notes