#the prompt was the eternal wait and i literally spend 1/3 of my day waiting for the train so i couldnt help myself | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

iovchlde · 3 years

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+ 1 xiao request bae 🙄☝🏼‼️

it’s just you and me.

in which xiao finally gets some rest in the comfort of your lap, knowing the when he wakes up, you’ll be there to greet him with a smile.

request a date; 300-400 follower event!

prompt.

xiao trusting you enough to sleep with just you in his presence bc even tho he doesn’t require sleep as a yaksha he’s still tired </3

or alternatively— indoor-ish picnic date (y’all are sitting at the highest balcony of wangshu inn) and he’s starting to realize just how tired he is, and falls asleep in your lap while you tell him abt your day <33

pairing.

xiao x gn!reader

genre.

fluff

author’s note.

we mostly discuss prompts over text hence why the prompt is written separately 😪☝️

anyways, ty bestie for dragging me out of my angst slump (the one i dragged you into instead 😋)— because i kid you not, ALL of my drafts were angsty as hell. maybe aot has inspired me to be an angsty lil shit, idk oops

i was gonna rick roll you but i decided that sending never gonna give you up in 4k was enough torture for today

xiao— though he doesn’t say it much— enjoys having you around, finding peace in your presence.

but it’s quite clear from an outsider’s perspective, actually. it’s obvious from the way he waits for you at one of the balconies of wangshu inn after you’ve come back from an especially tiring mission, and all you want to do is bunker down with some food; from the way he has all your favorite foods laid out for you beforehand. he doesn’t do that for just anyone, a well-known fact.

it’s nothing too extravagant— a simple act, attentive to details, that conveys his intentions perfectly.

“you’re back,” you hear xiao speak right as you reach the peak of the stairs, with his back turned to you. his eyes are filled with anxiety, and his ears burn red as he anticipates your reaction, waiting for your eyes to land on the little make-shift picnic he’d set up. it took him more time to set up than he’d anticipated, spending a good thirty minutes debating what food you’d like best, and ultimately deciding on the same food from last time. “i… it’s nice to see you’re safe.”

(i missed you, lay at the tips of his tongue, mere seconds away from slipping out. but he bites it back, and shuts his lips tight.)

“it’s me, in one piece,” you confirm, grinning as you scan over the display in front of you. he stays unmoving from his spot, but he knows exactly what comes next. it’s hard to miss the affectionate and fond lilt in your voice, a tone you’ve reserved for certain things. “i’ve missed you, xiao.”

xiao finds it hard to explain the rapid heartbeat he hears in his ears after your words flood into his mind, like a broken mantra, and he unknowingly grips the railing in an attempt to curb that feeling. there’s that weird warm feeling that brews in his stomach— he can’t place a certain emotion to it.

“people like to compare them to the feeling of butterflies,” he remembers you saying. “it’s whenever you see someone you really like, or whenever you’re really nervous. people will, quite literally, say that they have butterflies in their stomach.”

“right,” he opts to murmur instead. but you know better, judging from the way his breath seemed to hitch. “as do i.”

(and that’s enough words for the two of you.)

xiao, and he hates to admit it, is more tired than he lets off.

the way his body slumps against yours, as you tell him about your week, is enough proof in itself. it’s a rare sight— an affectionate side of him that’s closed off to everyone else, an affectionate side of him that he allows himself to show only around you.

wordlessly, he guides your hands to his hair— he gives you a simple glance, and that’s all you need to know exactly what he wants.

“want to hear about my day?” you ask, yet you already know the answer. it was one of his favorite things about you; you and your ability to read him, with a simple gaze towards his way. he’d fallen into rhythm with you before he even knew it, finding peace in your voice as you tell him stories, and the same could be said for you.

“go ahead,” he says, and a soundless sigh leaves his lips as you start to thread your fingers through his locks. you swirl strands between the tips of your fingers, mangling the hair, before running them straight through to straighten the mess— repeat.

subconsciously, his eyes flutter shut at the feeling. your voice mixes with the soft gust that flows past the balcony.

“well,” you hum, tearing your gaze away from him and looking at the scenery ahead of you. “i came across this one flower field, and i’d really like to show it to you one day. i don’t know, i guess it just reminds me of you.”

he stays silent, letting your words sink in. there’s that familiar twitch on his lips, and he fights against a smile that threatens to break past his stern face. he fails, and he knows you see the way the corners quirk up. “take me there, then.”

“i will,” you promise. “let’s make flower crowns.”

(this. this is perfection for the two of you.)

xiao trusts you, almost too much that it scares him, and he doesn’t tell you that. because you already know.

your voice had mixed in with the soft sounds of the wind that flowed past the two of you— your voice light and refreshing against the heavy bustle of the restaurant from below.

“it’s a pretty day out, isn’t it?” you ask, closing your eyes at the cold air that hits your skin, contrasting to the sun that beats down on the two of you.

your hands hover over his face, shielding him from the bright rays of light— an action enough to set his heart ablaze.

not as pretty as you, he almost says, mind hazy and almost biting his tongue in the process of catching it. “indeed,” he grunts, and you grin at the flustered blush that dusts his cheeks. you choose not to speak on it, on his behalf, and you’re sure he’s aware anyways.

the balcony is your small getaway, a somewhat special place to the two of you. a calm silence washes over the atmosphere— and you can feel xiao’s breath even out as he sinks into your lap.

he mutters something, incoherent, and you glance down at him. the eternal crease between his brows flatten out, his eyelashes ghosting his cheekbones as his eyes stay shut.

“you can sleep,” you whisper to xiao, careful not to rouse him, alert him from the tranquility he’d found himself in. his eyes are on you, but they’re unfocused and drowsy, and for a second, a thankful smile flashes across his face.

(and he goes to sleep in peace, knowing he’ll wake up to the sight of you with a small smile.)

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact fluff #genshin xiao #xiao x reader #xiao x reader fluff #iovchlde 300-400 event!#request a date!

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crimefightingpigeons · 3 years

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I’ve shared my head canon on how we go from Doomsday to Turn Left - your turn! What do you think happens?? - @loupettes

OK I’ve got no excuse for why this took me so long (other than complete lack of productive brain cells) but heyyy look part 3 is here! And hopefully it was worth the wait??? Anyone wanna place bets as to how long part 4 will take haha? I PROMISE it will happen though because I’m determined to finally finish this fic.

part 1 | part 2

A Brief Guide to Love and Defending the Universe

After a thorough talking to about her reckless actions and a mandated night of sleep (which everyone took advantage of), the team got right back to work with a lot more luck. Apparently the fractures just hadn’t been wide enough to travel through before, and now they were. For the most part, they took this as an absolute blessing and tried their best to ignore its solemn reminder that they only had so much time left.

For efficiency, both Rose and Mickey took on travelling through the cannon while Pete remained on base to keep track of the two. Plus, connecting Rose’s old phone to the mainframe, they had found a way to call the TARDIS’s number to every universe it could connect to, hoping at some point the ship’s owner might just pick up. On a good day, between the three of them, they could reach upwards of a hundred different worlds.

As powerful as the cannon was, though, nothing came as easy as they would have liked. For one thing, there was no way of knowing how close or far they were to their old universe, no way of knowing from this side of any crack where the Doctor was. It was a setback, but not a surprising one. What was even more frustrating, though, was the recharge time needed between jumps.

Most of the time it was extremely horrible just being stuck. All they had to do upon landing was a universal scan for TARDIS tech, wait a few seconds for a negative answer, and then… wait. Maybe if their own world wasn’t collapsing in on itself every day it might have been easier to enjoy, but unfortunately that wasn’t the case and each passing minute of not being able to do anything useful was quite stressful. And that wasn’t even accounting for the added trouble they’d face when they happened to be dropped right in the middle of an unwanted fight or war zone.

Other times, though, it could truthfully be amazing. Sure the entire multiverse was in a constant state of trouble, but sometimes it was nice to land somewhere that just needed a bit of help. Taking down local authoritarian regiments, solving mysterious disappearances, assisting on small scale alien invasions and such. It was just nice to help and feel properly useful. And sometimes it was these small victories that were just enough to get them to continue on through the next day.

Occasionally, though, very rarely, there would be an unexpected surprise waiting for them.

The first time it happened was to Rose. She had been running off from some strange alien hunting her, and just as she found a safe place to hide, there it was: the TARDIS. Her heart stopped and she didn’t believe her eyes. It didn’t make sense… the scanner said he wasn’t here… It wasn’t possible… Her mind was racing frantically, and then the door of the ship opened and… a blonde man with a piece of lettuce attached to his lapel stepped out. It was a man Rose recognized instantly from an album the Doctor had shown her. Except that her version of that Doctor had chosen celery as his accessory of choice… It wasn’t him, not her him anyways. Parallel universe, parallel Doctor. But before she could even think of how to react, the alarm telling her to jump back went off and she chose to go.

A few weeks later, Mickey had his own run in with the Doctor. He nearly didn’t believe Rose when she told him and Pete about seeing him, figured it was just her mind playing tricks on her. But then during one of his jumps, he had quite literally ran into a strange young man wearing a bow tie and tweed jacket.

“Oh, sorry there mate—” the man apologized as they both fell to the ground. Then just as the pair locked eyes, “Mickey?” The man’s smile grew and he excitedly jumped up, pulling Mickey up with him, and took him into a tight embrace. “Oh Mickey Smith! I can’t tell you how good it is to see you!”

Mickey just smiled and hugged him right back. “It’s good to see you too, Doctor.” It didn’t take an idiot to figure out exactly who that man was.

Since then, they both had a handful of other run ins with versions of the Doctor either they knew or who knew them. Most of the time it was alright. Mickey always seemed to enjoy the reunions, but Rose usually did her best to avoid them. Sure she wouldn’t mind a glimpse from afar every so often, but it was also difficult being so close yet so far from her own Doctor. And on the occasions she did run into a version of him who had clearly lost her… well, it wasn’t exactly easy to walk away from those situations. So she simply pushed forward, not letting herself get distracted.

But as time continued on, the team was facing more difficult problems than just running into people they didn’t want to see. If there were any stars left in the sky they were impossible to locate on even the clearest of nights, and the world was getting more scared and angry every day. Even Torchwood had been run down, the population blaming them for not doing more. Rose, Mickey, and Pete all felt even happier that they had decided to keep this project on the down low. Doing what they were trying to do was hard enough on its own, and they couldn’t imagine having to do it while putting up with angry protestors striking chaos.

Still, even with that obstacle out of the way, they couldn’t help but lose a little more hope every day. Some days the basement would be made a mess from a frustrated break down, and they believed no other room in any world had hosted so many nightmares or tears. They all knew they had a few weeks left- at the very most. A few weeks to get through enough of the infinite universes out there to find the right one. A few weeks to sort through whatever problem might be waiting for them on the other side. Every day it became harder to imagine finding real success. And as it turned out, inevitable universal destruction partnered with a lack of optimism and massive burnout wasn’t the motivation they had been looking for.

Pete chose to step back a bit to spend some more time with Jackie and Tony. It felt nearly cruel thinking everything he had just gained in the last few years was about to be snatched from him. And maybe it wasn’t responsible, but he was going to spend whatever time he could with his family.

Meanwhile Rose was simply running out of energy to keep going. After years of pushing and overworking herself, she had started taking the tiniest of steps back as doubt and hopelessness ravaged through her mind. Maybe this was as far as they got, she started to tell herself. Maybe she had been right all those years ago. Maybe without the Doctor she really wasn’t anything special. She remembered her young, naïve self. You don’t just give up. You don’t just let things happen. They felt almost like a stranger’s words now.

Of course if anyone knew that wasn’t true it was Mickey Smith, and he was determined to support her however he could. Most of the time this involved taking on some extra work, to let her have a moment of peace whenever she needed. With his gran gone (which truthfully he was thankful she wasn’t around to experience all this), he certainly had the time. And he knew if it had been Rose in his position, she would do the same for him.

Nowadays time seemed to bleed into itself and the gang never knew exactly when it was (they hoped that was just because of all the work they were doing in a windowless basement, and not a side effect from the whole multiverse ending thing). It felt like a very early morning though, at this particular moment. Pete was probably asleep next to Jackie or watching Tony. Rose was taking a nap on the cot in the corner. And Mickey kept working, taking full advantage of that autopilot function he wasn’t as judgemental at Rose for using anymore. As usual, he encountered failure, after failure, after failure. But he kept going, kept persisting, kept—

*beep beep*

Mickey looked down at his scanner on a planet which seemed to be made entirely of purple rock, a bit startled. His mind went through all the possibilities of what that sound could mean. Low battery? Interference? Surely it couldn’t have been…

But it was! The scanner had received a signal from the TARDIS. Their actual, real TARDIS.

A purely joyful grin spread over Mickey’s face and tears started welling in his eyes. He didn’t know which galaxy, which planet he was on. He didn’t know where Earth was, or wherever the Doctor happened to be at this moment. He didn’t know when he happened to land, 50 years in the past or 2000 years in the future. But none of that was important. Instead he chose to break out into a mad happy dance, hoping in the back of his mind that no alien was around to see him make a fool of himself.

After wearing himself out, Mickey couldn’t help but want to jump back. But then he remembered he still had to wait for his device to repower.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered under his breath. 25 minutes to go until he could jump, 25 excruciatingly impossible long minutes.

Finally though, after what really did feel like an eternity, Mickey’s alarm went off and not even a whole second later he jumped back. Once his feet hit the platform in the basement, he looked up to find a still sleeping Rose, prompting his grin to reappear.

“Rose, Rose!” he started calling her name as he stumble-ran towards her. Then crouching down by her side and shaking her, “Rose, wake up!”

“Mmm… wha’ is’t?” Rose shot up, but her mind was still caught in a sleepy haze. Mickey didn’t have the patience to wait for her to finish waking up, though, and started pulling her along.

“Got somethin’ to show you, come on now. Here, take this,” he handed Rose his jump button and helped her onto the platform. Then, running back to the console, he paused for a second to carefully adjust the coordinates and recalibrate the cannon.

“Mickey what’s going on?” Rose asked again, now awake but still completely confused.

Mickey smiled at her once again. “See for yourself, in 3, 2…” and he sent her off.

“Mickey!” Rose tried shouting again, but it was too late. And before she knew it she was thrown into the street of another world. A world which looked a lot like London, Earth at night. Which maybe it was, but surely it wasn’t their old London. Rose wandered down the road a bit, enjoying the wind on her face as much as possible and wondering what Mickey could have possibly wanted her to have seen… then she saw a gathering crowd around the corner. Her attention piqued and she continued on towards it. There was a big building- a corporate office of some sort or another- surrounded by emergency services of every kind. She was in the middle of wondering what could have possibly happened when a red headed woman came up behind her.

“Listen, there’s this woman that’s going to come along. A tall blonde woman called Sylvia. Tell her that bin there, alright? It’ll all make sense. That bin there.”

Rose could tell something good just happened to this woman by her smile alone. For a moment she remembered when she smiled like that, and the one person who could always effortlessly pull it from her. But she pushed it out of her head. She almost wanted to warn that other woman to hold off on her joy, too. If only she knew what was just around the corner for them all. Rose was sure she wouldn’t have such a reason to be celebrating.

With a sigh, Rose decided to walk away. Whatever Mickey had found so interesting about this event had either passed or simply wasn’t getting her attention like it might have any other time. And frankly she wasn’t too invested in helping that Sylvia woman- or whatever her name was- find a bin. So she went off into the dark street, hoping to clear her mind.

But then… something strange started happening. Rose was still walking down the street, but the ground beneath her started to disappear and the world around seemed to fuzz in and out just slightly and there was a weird static-y feeling around her-

And then everything was back to normal. She was back on the same street. At night. With a giant web star in the sky-

Rose’s head jolted back up to notice the very interesting thing that had certainly not been there just a few moments ago. ‘What the hell is going on?’ she thought. But before she could think of any sort of reasonable answer, she saw missiles being launched at whatever it was floating overhead, blowing it up.

On pure instinct, Rose started sprinting towards the source of the shooting. The whole time wondering- praying- that somehow all of this meant exactly what she was hoping it meant. That he was here. Maybe the Doctor had somehow gotten wind of their interdimensional jumping, maybe the TARDIS had picked up on it and alerted him! Maybe that weird moment she had experienced just a moment ago had been the Doctor pulling her back to him! With each breath and dash forward she had to forcefully restrict every ounce of hope in her body from seeping through.

Finally, Rose arrived at the scene. It appeared things had calmed down a bit, but there were still emergency vehicles and men and women in camo uniforms and red berets all around.

“What happened, what did they find?,” she slowed down as she got close to the barriers. There was a woman- a red headed woman. Rose turned to her. “Sorry, but… Did they find someone?”

“I don’t know. Bloke called the Doctor or something.”

“Where is he?”

“They took him away, he’s dead.”

Rose froze. Any thoughts running through her mind just a second ago disappeared and her body filled with a heavy numbness. She could hear the woman still going on behind her, but didn’t register a single word of it.

“…I came so far,” she breathed out.

Finally, though, Rose forced herself back to reality. Her worst fear may have been coming true, but that didn’t stop the rest of the multiverse from imminent destruction. And there was something weird about this world, something off… and something familiar about the voice talking to her. Rose turned around and for the first time since running into her, got an actually good look at who she was talking to. This woman wasn’t just any ordinary woman. It was the same woman who had told her about that bin just a few minutes ago in that crowded street. Something weird was definitely going on. A dead Doctor, this woman showing up twice… with something very odd on her back unlike before…?

“What’s your name?”

“Donna. And you?”

“I’m just… passing by… I shouldn’t even be here. This is wrong. This is so wrong,” she rambled on, more and more of her focus being diverted to whatever was on this woman’s back. “What was it, sorry? Donna what?”

“Why d’you keep looking at my back?”

Rose snapped her eyes away to look anywhere else. The last thing she needed to do was upset the woman who might be able to give her some answers. “I’m not.”

“Yes you are. You keep looking behind me, you’re doing it now. What is it, what’s there? Did someone….”

But before Donna could finish her sentence and before Rose had any more time to investigate, the world around her started to fuzz back out. And she was gone.

#sorry if its a tad messy #you all know that feeling when you're writing an essay for class and you just get so tired of working on it #that eventually you just say fuck it and send it in for what it is?#basically me rn #ive been spending a couple weeks editing and am still not 100% pleased but I have to say fuck it now or I'll never post it haha #so like its not MESSY messy... just not as completely perfect as I stress myself to make it #but I think thats ok #also just figured out how to do the break line so TA DA!#also I completely forgot I had a legit Tumblr page that isn't just my mobile layout #I mean it sucks cuz I think I put like 2 seconds of effort into it before giving up like 6 years ago but still #anyhowwwwwww #hope you all enjoy!#a brief guide to love and defending the universe #part 3/4 #original fic #rose tyler #mickey smith #Pete tyler #tenxrose #doctor who #dw

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thorman-barnes · 5 years

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The Sweater

pairing: BuckyNat x Reader (slight StuckyNat x Reader if you squint hard enough)

request: Summer prompt request? I would a Stucky x Reader or NatBucky x Reader (maybe even a StuckyNat x Reader lol whatever is best for you to work with) From the first list? #8 #9 & #10? I literally said these to my friends on vacation last week. This year is the first time in 6 years I actually bought a swimsuit for the summer, i lost a lot of weight (about 40 pounds) but im still super self-conscious about it lol

prompts:

#10 "Why are looking at me like that?"

#9 "Don't look at me"

#8 "Can I please just see you?"

summary: the Avengers spend a day at the beach and reader is nervous about wearing a bathing suit

warnings: none

Summer Prompt List

You've been sitting on the beach chair for what seemed like an eternity now. You kept staring at the fresh water, wondering how the cool water would feel against your hot skin.

It might be fresh weather at the beach but still, you were sweating underneath your sweater. You got cold easily, hence the sweater, but turns out, you got hot easily too. And every time you thought you were ready to get into the water, you just told yourself "Just five more minutes." But those five minutes bought you about an hour or two before Natasha blocked your view of the water.

"Are you planning to sit here all day? Thor wants to play ultimate frisbee, come on," she nudged your ankle with her foot. But when you dismissed her, she sat down on the sand beside you and rested her chin on your thigh.

"Does he even know how to play?" You questioned but you already saw your answer right in front of you. Peter was attempting to show Thor how to threw the disk properly but ended up just wacking Sam in the head with it.

Natasha didn't reply or bother looking behind her as she played with the loose string from your shorts. Every few seconds she gently scratched at your bare skin and looked up at you to see if she could get any reaction out of you. "Just come join us, Bucky and I let you have your fun here. Now it's time you join us in the water."

"No, I'm fine," you faked a smile and twirled her blonde hair around your index finger. She's been in the water ALL day and you couldn't believe her hair was this dry. You were sure you had seen Bucky throw her in the water earlier.

"Steve swears he can see you sweating from all the way over there." You rolled your eyes but looked to where Steve was. He was deep in the water with Bucky and the two were splashing water at each other not realizing a wave heading straight for them.

You shrugged and crossed your arms. There was no way now that you were going to take this sweater off. Everyone kept on glancing at you and you can feel your two lover's eyes on you. The last thing you wanted was attention as you stripped down to your bathing suit. I should have taken this sweater off the moment I got here. Maybe then no one would pay attention, you thought.

"I'm not taking it off Natasha, I'm comfortable just the way I am," you patted her head and met Bucky's eyes from where you sat. He waved you over and accidentally splashed some water on Steve. A giggle escaped your lips when you saw Steve tackle Bucky and dip him into the water. Steve laughed as Bucky rose back up from the water and shook his head, sending droplets of water flying. Steve splashed Bucky back and turned to look where he had been staring only to meet your eyes. Steve smiled and he hollered at you to join them.

"See, even the Captain wants you to join us," Natasha stated, her gaze never having left you. She pokes your bare thigh as you pretend to be interesting in anything else. Your gaze falls on the shell by your foot that Sam picked out earlier, to Thor throwing the frisbee to Peter, to Wanda making a sandcastle with Morgan.

"I'm going to get more water," you heard Morgan said as she stumbled along the sand heading towards her father and mother wetting just their feet. Morgan tugged at Tony's swim shorts and handed him the bucket to fill with water.

"Can I please just see you?" Natasha asked. "I've seen you naked but you're afraid to wear a bathing suit? I bet you look divine," she winked and stood up, hand held out for you to take. You shook your head and swatted her hand away. You stood up and headed for the ice chest a few feet away, making sure to kick some sand up at Natasha in your absence. "Look, I get it. We all do. Our boyfriend over there use to only wear long sleeves, then he only wore short sleeves only in the tower, and now - look at him - not a care in the world about his ar-"

"Well, I don't look half as good as he does," you shot back, growing irritated with her. You were beginning to regret coming to the beach. You were only here because when Nat and Bucky failed to persuade you, they sent in the back up: Steve and your goddaughter, Morgan. Morgan even fake cried and Steve kept tugging your hand until he finally gave up and wouldn't leave your bedroom until you gave in.

"Only because you look better," Steve nodded as he brushed past you to get his towel. He dried his hair and threw the towel back to your empty seat. "Come on, the water is nice. I need a partner to play that chicken game against Nat and Buck. You in?"

You pretended to think about and replied with a nope and made sure to make a 'pop' noise at the p. Oh, how you were really regretting coming to the beach. Going into the water was one thing, but being on Steve's shoulders was another. You felt like you were on display and you can only imagine how you'd feel once you were out of your sweater and shorts.

"Give me one good reason why I should go into that water," you turned and faced the two. Your eyes were narrowed as you held your bottled water in one hand your other arm was wrapped around your body.

"Because you look crazy in a sweater," Morgan commented as she walked past you without sparing you a glance.

Natasha and Steve laughed as you shook your head. You were about to ask Bucky to defend you because 3 against 1 wasn't going to work at all. But Bucky had been the one to convince you to get a bathing suit and he had even gone with you to purchase it. But you refused to walk out of the fitting room and told him he had to wait until Beach Day. You hoped in that small time frame from buying that bathing suit to the days leading up to the beach trip, you'd the confidence that you didn't have that day in the fitting room.

You took a deep breath and threw your bottled water at the ground. Just as your fingers gripped the hem of your sweater, your eyes shot up and you glared at Steve and Natasha. "Don't look at me!" Steve turned bright red and immediately turned around while Natasha put her hands up in surrender and her eyes landed on Bucky making his way to you three from behind you. He put a finger to his lips to make sure she won't say a word and slowly made his way to you.

Hesitantly, you took off your sweater, unaware of Bucky creeping up behind you. Your heart rate was increasing as you felt like everyone was staring but that was far from it. Everyone was in their own little world. Wanda and Morgan were now munching on some snacks and watching the God of Thunder get knocked down by a wave two times his size. Pepper and Tony were walking along the shore. Peter was now working on making the girls' castle bigger while Sam played catch with Clint.

Yet, you felt like everyone was watching and whispering. It was times like these that you wish a hole opened below your feet and swallowed you whole.

As you peeled your sweater off, it felt liberating and scary all at the same time. For a moment, you held your sweater to your chest looking from Natasha to Steve - both facing away from you. A part of you wanted to grab them and use them as shields before anyone can spare you a quick glance. But as you dropped your sweater on top of the ice chest, you unbuttoned your shorts and watched them spill around your feet. You took a deep breath and looked around. No one was looking.

But upon further inspection, you realized you didn't see Bucky. Surely he didn't drown. You've seen the man hold his breath for six minutes straight. The first time you had seen him do that, you ran to pull him out of the pool and you didn't understand why everyone was laughing at you. It took everything in you to not cry from embarrassment.

You were about to turn around to see if Bucky maybe walked off or something when you suddenly felt his arm wrap around your waist and he lifted you up from the ground. You screamed from the cold metal touching your warm skin and it earned a few glances your way. You felt your skin run hot and you pushed off Bucky and turned to face him. He was giving you a boyish grin, trying not to laugh.

"Bucky, I swear! What was that for?!" You shoved him a little and he fell back a few steps, laughing a little. Then it was like someone switched a light because his grin fell and his lips parted just a little and his eyes took every inch of you in.

"So we're going in the water now or what?" Steve asked as he turned around, looking from Bucky to you. You shifted from one foot to another under their gazes and while Bucky had no shame staring, Steve cleared his throat and motioned towards the roaring waters. "Beauty first," he smiled and gestured for you to lead the way and pulled Bucky back when he began to walk first.

"Stop flirting with my girlfriend," Natasha playfully glared at Steve and pulled you to her, her arm around your waist. Her tight grip on you prevented you from hiding behind her.

Steve muttered some profanities at her and told you three he'd meet you all in the water. He walked off heading for Thor and Morgan stood up, ditching Wanda and ran after Steve. She grabbed his hand and walked with him to the water.

As you watched them walk off, you felt two hot gazes on you and Natasha's arm snake off of you as she backed up and stood beside Bucky. You were now suddenly more aware of how much skin you were showing.

You turned to face them and snapped, "Why are you looking at me like that?" When they didn't reply you reached for the towel Steve abandoned only for Natasha to snatch it before you could. "Nat. . . Give it back," you tried to use a threatening tone only to crack a smile when she pulled back with a grin.

You were just about to chase her when Bucky got a hold of you and held you by your waist. Natasha laughed and stuck her tongue out at you. You stopped a smile from forming at your girlfriend. How you loved when she let loose and acted silly and weird with you two.

"You look so pretty, doll," Bucky whispered as you tried reaching for Natasha. Your movements stopped when you felt him kiss the top of your head and lightly smack your bottom. From afar, you heard Morgan scream in disgust causing Bucky to burst into laughter and his hold on your weaken. In seconds, you had Natasha tackled onto the ground, only for her to smile as you had her hands pinned on the floor and the towel long forgotten a few feet away. Before you knew it, she flipped you over and stood up. She quickly grabbed one of your hands as Bucky grabbed the other and they dragged you to the cold water. As you screamed and tried to threaten them but couldn't through your laughs, Morgan snuck up behind you as well and was pushing you towards the water.

Tag List:

@iamalphanow @my-marvelside-bl0g @m-a-t-91 @hoewkeye @im-just-another-monster

#bucky barnes imagine #natasha romanoff imagine #buckynat x reader #stucky x reader headcanon #steve rogers imagine

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ren-c-leyn · 5 years

Text

The Vampire’s Child

Since it’s October, I’m bored, and I found a lot of prompts chilling out in my drafts that made up a really good story once I started thinking about it, I decided to do a slightly more Halloweenish story than normal, and may be doing a few more in the near future. =D

This is a fusion story, my personal nickname for stories done up using multiple prompts from multiple prompt blogs. This particular one was made up of these 1,2,3,4,5,6 by @thependragonwritersguild, these 1,2,3 by @humdrummoloch, and these 1,2,3,4 by @givethispromptatry.

This one does have fight scenes, death, minor gore, nothing too descriptive, though.

It was a strange fate life had decided to deal me, the half-human child of a vampire lord. A lord that had lived for thousands of years and fought wars every single day of every one of those long years. Today was no different: not for him, at least.

The halls were silent as I glided through them. The servant’s eyes were downcast, the lesser vampires stood in tight circles, watching me with dull eyes; waiting for the marching orders I’d inevitably bring back from our lord. How could I not when I had been summoned to the war room the night after our enemies had attacked? Had shown us we were not even safe here, in the darkest and grandest of castles?

They had torn down a tower, lit the stables on fire, and slaughtered a few lesser vampires. But the thing was, it wasn’t just the destruction that made everyone shake, it was knowing that we were at each other’s mercy. Mercy we all knew no vampire, or any other creature of the night, had.

I rounded the corner and spotted a vaguely familiar figure. Or perhaps, it would have been more accurate to describe him as a familiarly vague figure: Lord Crow, my father’s oldest friend. No one but father knew what he actually looked like beneath the swirling mist of darkness that shrouded him. I remembered him telling me that you could see Lord Crow’s true form when lightening crashed, but I had never been fortunate enough to catch him in the midst of a literal storm.

The shadowy mass paused in the hall and turned to me.

“On your way to the war room, Raven?”

“I am. And you?”

“Yes, though I doubt it is for the same reason.”

Ah yes, it had been so long that I nearly forgot that his form was not the only thing vague about him.

“I see,” I answered simply, already knowing that prying was pointless. He had several centuries on me and was no one’s fool.

We both continued our silent trip to the war room. He opened the door for me, offering what I assumed was a bow. I gave a small nod in return and stepped through.

Lesser lords and ladies were gathered around the table, all watching the late comers come in. Father was standing at the head of the table, hands folded behind his back, red eyes nearly glowing in the darkness as I took my seat.

It was always dark around father. I could tell exactly when he was near. I still know when Father is coming. The lights go out and the darkness in people gets brighter. It was something that even set other vampires on edge... with exception to Lord Crow, who opted to stand at the opposite end of the table from father and do the unthinkable: speak out of turn.

“Figures that you would spend all of eternity being a shithead. When will you learn that this isn’t working, Night? We can’t keep this up. We can’t wage war forever, even if we do live that long.”

“Yes, I am aware of this, Crow, which is why we are ending it for good: tonight.”

“How?”

And father answered with his best laid plan. I was to be apart of a task force that would infiltrate the enemy’s castle, and kill their head vampire, Lady Nyx, as well as the rest of their lords and ladies, before pushing the underlings to either join, flee, or die. He made it sound so simple, like pruning some great, overgrown tree. Defeat wasn’t a possibility.

The meeting ended, and the lords and ladies went to issue orders. Only father, Lord Crow, and I remained.

“Remember, Raven, I am counting on you. The others believe you beneath them, that your mother’s blood makes you weak. You know that is not true, I know it is not true, now is your chance to force them to accept it is not the truth.”

“Yes, father,” I replied as I rose from my seat. “I will make mother proud.”

And he smiled, pale fangs a stark contrast to the darkness around me.

“And it shall be so. Now go, prepare yourself for battle.”

I gathered my finest equipment, things other vampires, including father, were fearful to wield. My human blood was a great asset in my role as the enforcer. I could use vampire hunter’s tools with far less fear than the rest. It made up for the slower speed and reduced strength, didn’t it?

I shook the thought off. Of course it did. I would make sure it did. Then no one would slander mother’s name. Never again.

I joined the others and we set out to the enemy castle, just blurs in the night. It wasn’t hard to get in. Their guard was down and they were still celebrating their victory over us. We wandered in and split apart, just like we planned. Nyx’s head was mine, and the others would deal with the weaklings.

I roamed through the raptors for a while, making full use of the shadows and the noise where I could. Several minutes later, I found my target: the queen’s chambers. Slipping inside was easy enough, catching her by surprise obviously wasn’t.

A knife had left a bloody trail on my cheek as I rolled out of the way. Then a sword glittered through my vision as I ducked again, drawing my silvered blade. There was the thunderous clash of swords.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the little Raven. What can I do for you, love?” she spoke softly, mockingly.

I smiled politely at her.

“You can die.”

“Ah, I don’t think so, dear.”

“What a shame,” I replied before kicking her in the gut.

She barely budged under my power, and applied pressure to her sword to force me back. But I wouldn’t die, I wouldn’t lose.

I broke the lock and slashed savagely at her, doing my best to keep up with her speed. It only just dawned on me that this woman was a vampire lord, head of her clan. She would be on par with father. Another visage of death in physical form.

And I felt it. Particularly when I went crashing through her chamber wall into the next room. But my persistence was slowly paying off. Every little nick with my silvered blade burned her like acid and fire, and was slowly sapping her strength. After some time passed, she was almost down to my speed, and was an easy kill.

But something about the look in her eyes as I drove the blade through her heart bothered me. Fear. I saw... fear. Vampires... didn’t have fear, or mercy, they couldn’t. Father said they couldn’t. Or could they?

I had almost convinced myself I had been projecting my own nerves onto her when I spotted something odd on her bed. I picked it up, staring in disbelief. I held my enemy’s old teddy bear. And I realized even she was vulnerable once. Maybe she still was....

I glanced at the body and then back at the little brown bear. Somehow, I had wandered downstairs with it still in my hand, listening to the screams and sounds of battle echoing through the halls. This... conflict I was feeling was new, and I was trying to figure out why this was starting to bother me all of a sudden. I had grown up with these sounds, I knew war. But the carnage didn’t look as black and white when reflected off of the shiny button eyes of an old stuffed toy.

A body fell in front of me and I paused, looking up to see the shadowed figure of Lord Crow.

“What did you do to them?” I asked as I looked around.

“What I had to,” he replied, notes of remorse in his voice.

Regret, another thing father said vampires couldn’t feel. I guessed he was wrong about that too....

A moment of silence passed before Crow spoke up again.

“Has Nyx fallen?”

I nodded.

“I see... I suppose we win, then.”

“There’s nothing quite like victory,” I mumbled, staring down at the bear.

“This hardly counts as a victory.”

I looked up at him.

“But we defeated her, right?”

“And took the lives of many servants, lesser creatures, and other peoples who would never have posed a threat.”

“But isn’t the victory worth it?”

He shook his head.

“At the end of the day, it’s what you do that counts.”

“This event does not speak highly of you then,” I said, looking back down at the bear.

“I never said it did.”

There was a moment of silence before I looked back up at him. Maybe he could help me figure out what this feeling was. He was like an uncle, and easier to talk to about these things than father.

“Can I be real with you for a second?”

“Sure.”

“I’m starting to doubt if this is worth it. All of this...” I trailed off and gestured at the blood splatter. “It... it doesn’t feel right.”

And I swore I could see the outline of a smile in the dark fog.

“Because it isn’t, and I’m glad at least you’ve figured it out.”

“But... why do we do it, if it isn’t right?”

“Our lord demands it.”

I processed the thought and nodded.

“So, what do we do to stop it?”

“Change his mind or change our course. I shall be changing my course. What will you do, Raven?”

I ran my fingers over the worn fur of the teddy bear.

“I think... I’ll try changing his mind.”

“You’ll fail.”

I shrugged.

“Perhaps. Perhaps I will succeed.”

“For his sake, I hope you do.”

I planned my speech all the way back to the castle, going as far as to walk at human speeds for a while to buy myself some more time to put the words together. But, I wasn’t sure if I could convince him when I still didn’t entirely know myself why I didn’t want to fight anymore. On nights like this... I missed mother.

But I didn’t have time to lament losses past, or fear the future. I only had enough time to think of a plan. And even that wasn’t enough.

I was in the war room, face to face with father before I had finished thinking it through, Nyx’s bear still in my bloodied hands.

“Ah, you’ve returned sooner than I expected. Tell me, what have you to report?”

I opened my mouth, and hesitated. It was now or never, and I almost chose never. Almost.

“I have come to the conclusion that... that this is pointless.”

He stared at me, red eyes narrowing in confusion.

“That fighting is pointless,” I clarified. “We... we have become no better than them. Just... just butchering people who couldn’t hurt us, and for what? Revenge? But... is revenge actually right, father? Because I don’t think it is. I think it’s wrong. In fact, I think I remember mother telling me it was wrong, a long time ago. Don’t you know the difference, between right and wrong?”

“I know the difference between right and wrong,” he snapped quietly. “One is resigning yourself to getting stepped on and the other is the person doing the stepping. I tried to tell your mother, but she did not listen. She stayed so very kind and sweet and good until they stepped on her and put her light out.”

“Because they were wrong,” I replied. “Just like we’re wrong now.... I, I think.... Well, that we didn’t choose hate because it lasts longer. We chose it because it felt important. Because we’re never more sure of ourselves than when we have an enemy. But, we didn’t have to hate.”

“And what would you have me do?! That clan killed your mother.”

“Let go of the past.”

“Do you think it’s that easy?!”

“Yes. Nyx wasn’t even the head when mother died, right? She was... new. And we attacked her first, no? We could have stopped it a long time ago. Ended with the ones that did wrong.”

I looked up and realized that he was walking away.

“I need you to look at me when I’m speaking so I know you at least tried to hear me!”

“I will not listen to the words of a traitor.”

Traitor... traitor. The word rung in my head for a while as I stood alone in the war room for a while. Eventually, I returned to my room and packed my things. And I stepped out into dawn’s light for the first time since I was a small child and mother was alive, holding Nyx’s teddy bear.

“If turning my back on darkness is a betrayal, then I guess I am a traitor.”

And I walked towards the sun, deciding to follow Lord... No, Uncle Crow’s suggestion. And maybe I could make mother proud this way, somewhere under the light.

#short story #original story #My writing #fiction #fantasy #vampire #angst #a story by Ren

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writingsofwinchesters · 5 years

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tail lights in a hailstorm

One of my favorite things in my life currently is participating in my church’s high school youth group. For nearly five years, I’ve had the privilege of walking alongside students, watching them grow, learn, and connect with Christ. By grace alone, I get to be a part of a community that works hard to encourage, to love, and build up these students as they progress through a really hard and transformative season.

It happens to be really freaking fun too.

Every year, the youth group goes on a summer trip. Each time, that week I get to spend in the wilderness is simultaneously the most exhausting and yet the most refreshing experience of my summer. It’s full of community, adventure, and heart work. During that week, I am certain, down in my bones, that this is what I was meant for. There is nothing like it.

For summer 2018, we traveled to a camp just outside of Centennial, Wyoming. Leaders were asked if they wanted to volunteer to drive and I jumped on the opportunity. I like driving and it seemed like a good chance to serve the students and my fellow leaders. I also wouldn’t have to jockey for a spot in the vans throughout the entire trip. I was assigned one of our three 15-passenger vans and we took off on our adventure.

Eight hours of interstate driving, a mini thunderstorm, and one missed turn later (completely my fault), we arrived at the camp in the Wyoming wilderness. The week did not disappoint.

The trip home was much more eventful than the trip out and seemed to take much longer. Instead of staying in our van order, there was a lot of mixing it up, with one of the drivers taking off in the front - so fast the other two of us lost track of him. Then, as we were driving back through western Nebraska, we drove right into a huge summer storm.

Now - I absolutely adore thunderstorms. Remember the storm that cancelled the first Husker football game last season? I was driving back home from Omaha as it was starting and I quite literally cackled the whole way because I couldn’t get over how fantastically gorgeous the clouds and the rain and the lightning were. The power behind a storm is so vividly breathtaking. I see God in them. I’m filled with awe.

So, at first, I was excited. Every chance I had I was gazing at the clouds and the sky. And, for awhile, it was beautiful.

Then, the traffic slowed to a crawl and the hail started, so thick it blanketed the ground like snow. It mixed with the rain and pounded the windows. I cranked the wipers as high as they would go and gripped the steering wheel tightly, acutely aware that I had fifteen mamas’ babies in the car with me and I needed to get them home safe. A semi barreled down the left lane and threw such a huge and sudden wave of hail across the windshield, I nearly swore aloud. That would have gone over well in a van full of youth group kids.

The wind pushed the van tighter to the white line and I held my position at 10 and 2 and stared at the tail lights ahead of me. All I could think about was how thankful I was that I was not the one leading our little caravan and that I was directly behind the other van. I watched that van’s tail lights for indication - when they lit up, I braked, when they got farther away, I cautiously nudged the gas pedal. When I couldn’t see the white lines on either side, I matched my wheels up to those two little red bulbs.

It was nearly an hour before we were out of the storm and parked at our lunch stop. I remember stepping out of the van with shaking legs and a pounding heart. I found the driver of that other van as quick as I could and told him, “Thank you so much for leading! I don’t know what I would’ve done if you weren’t.”

I can’t remember when I drew this connection. I don’t know if I was thinking of it while I was driving that day or if it came to me when I was listening to Fix My Eyes by Kings Kaleidoscope a few weeks later or God prompted me when studying His Word. But now, today, it is very clear what God was trying to teach me with that experience.

"Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, 2 looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God." -- Hebrews 12:1-2

Just like those tail lights were my guide during the storm, how much more so should Jesus be our focus in daily life? He can see much farther ahead than we can. He adores us and chose us to be His. He sacrificed everything for us, surely we can trust Him to lead us through the storms of life. He has proved over and over again that He can handle it.

I’ll admit the metaphor isn’t perfect. Jesus is not ahead in the distance, untouchable. We don’t have to wait until the end of the road to express our gratitude to Him. He is a personal God. He’s closer than the closest friend, sitting right next to us in the van. He is knowable and wants to know us. And we sure as heck aren’t driving our own life. If we’ve surrendered our lives to Him, He has the steering wheel, and he’s guiding our lives through the storm.

But He is God. And God is infinite. So maybe He’s both. Maybe He’s before us and beside us. Maybe He’s even more and He’s behind us too. So maybe it’s possible to keep our eyes fixed on the Jesus ahead of us, all while holding the hand of the Jesus beside us and remembering the faithfulness of the Jesus behind us.

There will be storms in life. I can promise that. There will be huge semi’s that come by and throw up sheet of hail with such unexpectedness that we react instinctively. Things will get hard and we will tire ourselves out thinking of all that we must do to keep the tires between the white lines and all that is at stake if we don’t.

Dear friend, hasn’t Jesus made it simple for us? Hasn’t He taken the lead and asked us to follow? Don’t misunderstand me; simple and easy are not the same thing. We have one job, one task to remember - to follow Him - but that doesn’t mean that every day it’ll be easy to pick up our cross and walk.

Grace upon grace, what does Jesus promise us?

Perfect peace.

You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in you.

- Isaiah 26:3

An intimate connection with Him.

Trust in him at all times, O people; pour out your heart before him; God is a refuge for us.

- Psalm 62:8

Refinement.

And I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ.

- Philippians 1:6

Eternity.

For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.

- John 3:16

Yes, He is the first and the last. He is behind and before. He is God with us. Hallelujah!

It is the LORD who goes before you. He will be with you; he will not leave you or forsake you. Do not fear or be dismayed.

- Deuteronomy 31:8

And to the angel of the church in Smyrna write: The words of the first and the last, who died and came to life.

- Revelation 2:8

Here’s the tricky part: how do we actually do this? How do we actually fix our eyes on Jesus daily?

Man, I was hoping you’d have the answer to that one.

It’s hard. I definitely don’t have all the answers. I wish I could give you a three-step process that works all the time. But we’re fickle, fallible humans and I don’t think we’ll ever get it perfect on this side of life. But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try. So, here’s a few things that have been recommended to me and seem to help.

Connect with God consistently. Think of a time in your life when you felt so connected to God and the closest you’ve ever been to Him. Or even a specific moment. What were you doing? Who did you surround yourself with? What did your life look like that looks different now? If you aren’t sure, ask those you know connect with God frequently and ask how they do it. Then try it out for yourself. For me, it’s nature. I connect deeply with God through His creation, so I spend time in it and I do things to help it.

Think about how you use your free time. What do you do first? Get caught up on Instagram stories? Maybe try talking to God or spending time in His Word during those moments. There are a ton of free bible apps you can download to your phone. His Word can be just as accessible as your social media accounts. Build a discipline of going to Him first. (I’M REALLY BAD AT THIS.) I’m telling this to myself too.

Put reminders of God everywhere. Physical ones. Sticky notes with encouraging verses on your computer at work or in the doorway as you leave home or on your mirror or in your car or on your fridge. Put them EVERYWHERE. You’ll see them all the time and Jesus will be on your mind that much more.

Focus takes effort and practice. But He is my goal. I want to be watching Him so closely that I imitate His every move. Thanks for joining me on this journey. What do you do to connect with God and keep your mind fixed on Him?

#focus #faith #jesus #trust

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fiercyy · 6 years

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if you can't hold on, hold on [3/?]

Sakura always wished she could relate to her teammates better. She wishes she could take it back.

In which Sasuke acquires some unwanted roommates and a team becomes a family.

Chapter 1

With Naruto gone, the apartment has become quiet.

Sasuke feels awkward and unsettled; he doesn't know how he's supposed to act. The three of them have an established dynamic and routine. With Naruto gone, that balance has been upset. Naruto fills most of the silence, especially these days.

When he said something stupid, Sakura could always be relied upon to share a longsuffering look. Hers being generally more fond than his.

She's quieter these days, but not this quiet. With Naruto gone, there's one less major distraction. He thinks she must be dwelling. He keeps catching her looking out the window, or past the television set.

The best solution he has is to keep her on a schedule. It's what he did, after it happened. So Sasuke conscripts Sakura into his Don't Think About Your Feelings, Only Vengeance regimen.

He wakes up at 5am and kicks her door.

She stumbles into the kitchen, bleary eyed. The first day she'd whispered, "what's going on?" Now she knows to come to the table, dressed.

He hands her a protein bar, takes one for himself and they head out.

They train. They take a water break. Train some more. They spar. They go home.

It's a quiet existence. And it's unnerving because of how unnatural it feels.

Sakura likes to talk. She has so much to say. She should feel comfortable enough to talk. Sasuke isn't equipped for this. He doesn't have the language to console her or explain his issues even to himself.

He hasn't processed his own trauma, he doesn't know how he's supposed to help her with hers.

Even so, he feels closer to her than he ever has. And isn't that sick?

In the past, he's told her and Naruto that they could never understand him or his pain. They hadn't gone through what he had. Now Sakura was the closest anyone could come. And they cannot commiserate. He cannot manage to pass on anything to her. Because nothing makes it easier.

On the third day, as she pants in the dirt after their spar, he asks if she wants to go for ramen.

"Yes," she says, too quick.

Teuchi asks them where Naruto is, Sakura smiles brightly and genuinely at him, "He's off to find our next Hokage! It's a really important mission, but hopefully he'll be back soon." Teuchi responds with pride of course, he likes Naruto a lot. He takes their orders and retreats into the back.

Sasuke is jealous of Naruto. His and Sakura's situations are the same, but it's Naruto who is able to reach out to her and make her feel better. He's always able to tell what she needs; be it a distraction or a shoulder or a blanket fort.

He feels inept. He's never wanted to talk about feelings, but his teammate is hurting. And he has no way of fixing that.

It occurs to him that night, as intrusive thoughts sometimes do, that this whole thing is a distraction from his revenge. He's worrying about Sakura, and his team is living with him. He's concentrating on her pain instead of his. He needs to be single minded if he wants to accomplish his goals.

He physically bats those thoughts away and presses a hand to his forehead. He turns to look at the empty bed by the window and growls. He knows what the right thing to do is.

Tomorrow he'll try harder.

The next day he wakes her up and they train as always. They go home and prepare dinner together. Sasuke asks her some leading questions while frying up the vegetables.

For his efforts, he receives a sweet and wobbly smile.

After dinner they sit on the couch and watch tv, Sakura's woolen blanket spread out over their laps. They fall asleep like that, on opposite sides, feet tangled together in the middle.

Things never remain simple for long.

Sakura comes to life in her panic, grabbing Sasuke's hand and dragging him out the door in a way that he would never allow under normal circumstances.

They'd just got word that Kakashi was in the hospital.

In some ways, they always believed their teacher to be invincible. It was so easy to forget that he was anything but.

She needs to keep moving, or else she's going to sink into the earth. Sakura is barely keeping her head above water these days and if something happens to Kakashi… She doesn't know what she'll do.

The hand in hers is dry and warm. She glances back at Sasuke, who doesn't let the worry show quite like she does, but it's there. She squeezes his hand in assurance. He doesn't squeeze back but he nods at her and doesn't shake her off. That's enough.

At the hospital front desk, a paternal nurse with bushy eyebrows and grey streaks at his temples guides them to Kakashi's room in intensive care. It's already crowded. Asuma, Kurenai stand propped up against the wall by the window. Gai occupies a chair by his eternal rival's side.

Sakura gasps and her hands fly to her mouth, "What's wrong with him?"

He doesn't seem that injured, but he's unconscious.

Gai glances back at the other jounins before answering, "He keeps fading in and out. He was under the influence of a very powerful genjutsu. The aftereffects are…concerning."

Kurenai, being the genjutsu expert, averts her eyes as if fearing she'll be caught in one. "It's trying on the mind. None of the medics in the village are equipped to handle a case like this."

"Will he get better?"

Kurenai's heart goes out to the girl. Kakashi told her about Sakura's parents. He asked her for advice that she didn't have. The best she could do was treat a traumatized girl the way he would one of the boys. Having met Sasuke though, she wasn't sure he had the best grasp of that either.

"We're not sure."

"That means no Sakura," Sasuke's cutting interruption startled everyone.

"You don't know-"

"Yes I do," red eyes shifted between all the adults in the room. "Who did this?" If Sasuke knew one thing, it was vengeance.

Kurenai and Gai exchange a look, but Asuma stares at the boy impassively.

"TELL US!"

Sakura winces at the volume and anger in his voice. Gai's immediate instinct is to mitigate that. "Everything's going to be-"

"Don't lie to us!" Sakura surprises them all by siding with

At that very moment a nurse walks in, staring at his clipboard, concentrating deeply, "I'm sorry to say that we're not quite sure how to mitigate the effects of the Magekyou. We haven't had the opportunity to study it before-"

Like an anchor tied to his chest, dropped into the ocean. Sasuke can't breathe. He's being sucked downwards, spiralling into feelings he can't parse. Anger, shock, confusion.

"Why. WHY WAS HE HERE?!"

"Who?" Sakura whispered, worried.

"-I'm so sorry!" the nurse cries.

Asuma pushes off from the wall. At this point, he already knows too much. They'll have to find out this part eventually.

"Your brother is part of an organization called Akatsuki. They were after Naruto."

"Wait, STOP!" Sakura shouts, running after Sasuke. "You have to think about this!" She catches his arm and holds fast.

"There's no time to waste," he wrenches his arm from her grip. "I have to find my brother."

"But why? What's going on? And if he took out Kakashi-sensei, how are you going to beat him?"

"Shut up!" He doesn't want to hear logic. This is the first word he's heard of his brother in years.

"I will not! You're going to get yourself killed."

Bravery keeps her knees from quaking, determination stops the hyperventilating. She can't lose him. She can't lose him. She grabs his arm again, but this time he shoves her. By now they're a block away from the gate. He pushes her up against a telephone poll. She's taller than him still, so she manages to stay on her toes. Sakura winces, the rusted staples from old flyers dig into her back. There's a dangerous and unhinged look in his Sharingan eyes. "Stay out of my way."

Then he's gone. Too fast for her to ever hope she could catch up.

Sakura isn't done yet. She is a hurricane, blowing into Kakashi's hospital room. A storm of anger and accusations.

"Who have you sent?!" she demanded, "Who did you send to warn Naruto, to protect him?!"

As the adults around her exchange looks, abdicating responsibility, she wants to scream. They've failed him. More and more, Sakura is noticing the way adults seem to fail them all. She spoke to her social worker about it. Who looked after Naruto his whole life? He never had parents, did he always live alone? Who fed Sasuke after his family died?

Her social worker responded that they only had two allotted sessions left, is she sure she wants to spend them talking about her teammates?

This is fucked up. This is so fucked up.

"Who would we send?" Asuma asks.

"Anyone!"

"We don't know where they are," Kurenai adds, "Besides, Lord Jiraiya is with him and he's a legendary Sannin. There's literally no one better to protect him."

"If it's so hard, why has Sasuke gone off to find them just now?"

A knock at the door of his hotel room elicits a grown from Naruto.

"Got shut down already Pervy Sage? When are you gonna-" he swings the door open and comes face to face with a man in a black cloak, with red clouds. This would have left the bigger impression, were it not for unnervingly familiar, glaring, red eyes, pining him in place.

(x)

a/n: Been slow on updating because I've been working on another fic at the same time. The other one had a clearer direction in my mind (and has a really fun dynamic to write) so I got a little sidetracked. I've found the thread of this one though! Reviews are always loved and cherished.

PS: You can find me on tumblr as fiercyy! I love getting asks and prompts for oneshots or just to say hey.

- Fi

#sasusaku #sasusaku fanfiction #team 7 #naruto #sakura haruno #sasuke uchiha #naruto uzumaki #kakashi hatake #fanfiction #my fic #if you can't hold on #chunin exams #chuunin exams au #chunin exams au #genin fic #post chuunin exam au #post chunin exam au #hold on #genin au

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dailybestiary · 7 years

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Moloch

Hold on to your tophets, ladies and minotaurs…it’s Moloch time!

Moloch’s inspiration is a Canaanite god who gets a lot of bad press in the Torah and the Bible—two holy books that, let’s be fair, don’t exactly have a track record of playing nice with the neighbors. But Moloch also gets some pretty bad press from the Greeks and the Romans, and the phrase “child sacrifice” gets thrown around a lot, so I’m perfectly fine with him being used as an archdevil. (There’s actually a post floating around the Paizo Blog that basically says, “Well, that’s kind of how religion worked in those days”…but I possess the ultimate authority on good vs. evil—Monte Cook’s Book of Vile Darkness (what, you were expecting Spinoza?)—and it firmly puts child sacrifice in the Evil category, so screw Moloch.)

In early editions of AD&D, Moloch ruled Malebolge as Baalzebul’s viceroy. In 3.0 and 3.5 Moloch had an even rougher time of it, getting replaced first by the Hag Countess and then Glasya. Pathfinder’s Moloch, on the other hand, is firmly in control of both the Sixth Layer and indeed all of Hell’s armies. If you’re looking for a devil who’s a servant or a patsy of another power, Pathfinder’s Moloch is definitely not it.

Probably the four most interesting things about Moloch are as follows:

1) Moloch is publicly worshipped. Devil worship is not popular, by and large. Even for truly dastardly faith communities, worshipping gods, even evil ones, is a safer bet than worshipping beings that explicitly come from Hell. (“Would you like to spend eternity building a pyramid for the Pharaoh God of Taxation and Making Slaves Grovel? Or go to the place with the fire pits and devils and eternal torment?” “Gosh, the fire pits do sound appealing. But seeing as I’m already experienced at being taxed and groveling...Imma hafta stick with what I know.”) So devil worship is usually a cult thing. Heck, even Asmodeus isn’t that popular in any land where he doesn't have governmental backing—without a throne, inquisition, or similar power structure in place, his church is at best seen as a necessary evil. The other archdevils’ cults mainly stick to the shadows.

But not Moloch. His worship happens out in the open. His followers build giant sacrificial ovens. Whole armies subscribe to his message. Of all the archdevils, he is the one most likely to be worshipped under the glaring eye of the midday sun. And he gets that worship, because…

2) Moloch is responsive. He answers the prayers of his followers—often in a quite literal and personal fashion. Is your village threatened by flood? Forget subtle shifts in tributary courses—Moloch just shows up in avatar form and dams the river. Is an army about to ransack your town? Moloch’s army is bigger, assuming he doesn’t just squash the looters himself.

Yeah, the price for this prompt and professional service is an eternity slaving away in Moloch’s army for anyone who asks for his aid or offers even the slightest hint of praise. But when floods, rapine, and slaughter regularly threaten your subsistence-farming-level existence, being a mule skinner for an archdevil might seem like a decent trade, especially if you don’t have to pay it off till you’re dead. Which means that Moloch has a surprising number of worshippers, despite being a walking metal furnace that swallows victims whole and to burn alive in his stomach. Speaking of which…

3) Moloch has interesting symbolism and visual associations. Which means interesting worshippers and sidekicks. He’s got a bull thing—use some minotaurs as his cultists. He’s got a furnace/child sacrifice thing—use the tophet. He’s got a walking, fiery suit of armor thing—there are tons of constructs, golems, elementals, devils, and undead like that. And he’s a general—which means animate war machines like juggernauts or colossi.

With a lot of archdevil nemeses, the PCs’ journey fighting their servants goes tiefling —> lesser devil —> medium devil —> nasty devil—> archdevil, with maybe a fiendish dragon or something in there for variety. Moloch’s followers are waaay more interesting that that. Literally any soldier of any race might be found in his legions, either living, undead, as a fiendish version of itself, or as some kind of twisted einherjar. Pick up thematic cues from his description and his mythology and go nuts.

And since we’re on the subject of him being a general…

4) Moloch is a general. He’s the leader of Hell’s armies. This means facing him is going to be like facing any general with godlike power. He’s going to have lots of troops he can call for aid. He’s going to have aerial assault teams and assassination squads and giant hellfire-fueled juggernauts. He’s going to be physically powerful himself, and canny and strategic as well. If you come at him, you risk literally having all the armies of Hell chasing after you.

That said, it also means he has other fish to fry. He has Heaven assaulting one front and the demon hordes assaulting the other. He has lesser generals and colonels who want his job. He has some mighty demanding bosses to please. And, as noted above, he’s very attentive to his flock. No matter how big you think your beef with him is, you’re probably the lowest item on his to-do list.

Which means you might be able to sneak into his vast army camp and ambush him. You might be able to challenge him to single combat to gain some small concession. You might be able to put a treaty in front of him to sign. Keep your goals reasonable and small, and he might just to decide to send his flunkies after you in retaliation rather than deal with you personally, or burn your great-grandchildren to cinders a few generations from now…but that’s their problem. Generals are patient, generals can wait, and generals pick their battles. He will always come down on you like a hammer, but it might not be today. And when dealing with archdevils, those are as good odds as you’re going to get.

Adventures are asked to investigate a so-called Children’s Crusade, only to discover it is a sham—slavers are herding the children (and their hapless friar guardians) like cattle to boats crewed by gnolls, hobgoblins, witchwyrds, denizens of Leng, and worse. The trail leads past strange cyclopean isles to a forbidding and cruel coastal nation of military dictators. There the children are to be fed to giant, animate tophets meant to fuel the archdevil Moloch’s fires in Hell…unless the brave adventurers step in.

A solar and an uinuja formed an unlikely friendship, despite their differing ethics, spheres of influence, and relative power levels. Now the solar languishes in a Hellish prison, and the plucky azata wants to do what even the archons do not dare: stage a rescue, even if it means facing the Lord of the Sixth himself. Fortunately, she knows some adventures who are just as plucky—or crazy—as she is.

The cult of Mithras has spread throughout the Roman Empire—in particular, throughout the Roman Legions. But as the cult has spread, so have disturbing rumors about secret rites, bloody and fiery sacrifices, and worse. At first, the Senate and certain famous adventurers chalk this up to the usual politics and rumormongering Rome is famous for. But then word comes out of Anatolia that the great god Mithras is dead, slain by an imposter who now usurps his throne and perverts his rites. The usurper is Moloch, and he has turned much of Rome’s military might to his service—for even those who resist his call in life have sullied themselves enough so that he may claim their souls in death. Worse yet, the dour god Pluto is angered by the potential theft of shades from his kingdom. His priests threaten that if this Mithras/Moloch is not stopped, Pluto will send an army of undead through the Lacus Curtius to drag the Roman army down to the Underworld, no matter what the collateral damage. Great heroes have to act—and fast.

—Pathfinder Bestiary 6 30–31

(I’ve always thought the rapid spread and equally rapid decline of Mithraism throughout the Roman Empire was pretty fascinating. So naturally I wanted to give your PCs an excuse to be players in that particular rise and fall. Now, on to some housekeeping…)

Edit: Also, somehow my Google-fu utterly failed me, and nothing I read pointed me to the fact that there was a section on Moloch in Pathfinder Adventurer Path #105: The Inferno Gate. (I had to skip that AP because I was so behind; it’s on my to-read pile.) I’ll be interested to read how my take conforms (or doesn’t) with Editor Emeritus @wesschneider‘s canon version, but that’s a project for another night.

Hi all. First of all, again, apologies for the absurdly late post. This article literally sat half-written on my desktop since something like June 18. We’re talking a month. Sure, this blog isn't the *daily* Daily Bestiary it once was, but I’ve never been as lax with my posting as that. Two posts in June and none so far in July is unacceptable.

Toyota earned its reputation for amazing cars not through one outstanding model or innovation, but through a company-wide suggestion system that leveraged lots of tiny improvements. Unfortunately, the same is also true in the negative. There’s no one reason I haven’t been able to blog or one big nightmare I had to tackle (okay, there was one—a four-day, 46-hour workweek that sucked beyond measure—but let’s pretend I didn’t say that). There have just been a thousand tiny distractions and mini-hurdles. The short version is: June was lame, I had to take some time for me, I probably took too much, and I’m hopping the end of July is better. Much love and thanks to you all for your patience, yet again.

Tumblr folk already know this (so forgive me if I quote myself verbatim) but my Blogger folk don’t: My second episode as a guest of the Laughfinder podcast is up! Once again, I aid Bryan Preston, Jim Meyer, and Tommy Sinbazo to fight evil conjured by Dorian Gray and Ben Hancock. Once again there are many NSFW riffs on Baltimore landmarks. And most importantly, my blood feud with Aaron Henkin erupts into passionate FURY. Enjoy!

#pathfinder #paizo #3.5 #dungeons & dragons #dungeons and dragons #d&d #dnd #moloch #archdevil #devil #outsider

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nolimitsongrace · 4 years

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January 23: Use What Influence You Have

Use What Influence You Have!January 23, 2020

But sanctify the Lord God in your hearts: and be ready always to give an answer to every man that asketh you a reason of the hope that is in you with meekness and fear. — 1 Peter 3:15

Several years ago my heart was stirred to pray for a method to reach the elderly population in the city of Moscow. The majority of them grew up under Communism and therefore lived a life devoid of God. Although the rule of Communism is gone, that ideological system still pervades much of the thinking of the older generation. This makes them one of the most difficult groups to reach with the Gospel.

My heart has been burdened for this older segment of Russian society for several reasons, but the most important reason is that multitudes of these senior citizens will soon leave this world and pass into eternity without Christ unless we first reach them with the Good News of Jesus Christ. As I prayed for these seniors, I wanted to know how to have influence with this group of people so I could make a positive impact on them.

Suddenly one day, an idea dropped into my heart about how to reach the elderly community in the city of Moscow. It was an idea right from the throne of Heaven — an idea so brilliant and different that I could have never come up with it on my own. It was an idea that came from the Spirit of God in answer to my prayers for a method to reach these precious people. Years have passed since that idea first came into my heart — and with God’s help, we have built what may possibly be the single largest outreach to senior citizens in the world. In all of our research, we’ve never been able to find anything to compare to this massive outreach to the elderly.

*[If you started reading this from your email, begin reading here.]

Awhile back during one of these monthly events, a member of our staff — one of our drivers — was sitting in the back of the auditorium, waiting to watch the program that had been designed specifically for this senior audience. One of the elderly people sitting next to him — an old, hard-hearted, dedicated Communist and atheist — skeptically commented, “I don’t understand why Rick Renner does all these things for us. No one else seems to care about us anymore. So why would he and his team spend all this time and money on us? There must be some hidden agenda. I just don’t get it. Why would they do so much for us? What is the real reason behind all of this?”

The elderly man didn’t realize he was speaking to a member of our team. But God had carefully orchestrated that moment, ensuring that one of our drivers — a very sensitive man who compassionately cares especially for hurting people — would sit next to the elderly man and hear his skeptical comment. In response, the driver reached over to put his arm around that old Communist and answered, “What kind of price tag can be put on a person’s soul? There’s nothing in the world more precious or eternal than your soul, my friend. That is why this kind of love and attention is shown to you every month. It’s all about your soul and your eternal destiny. That’s why this is done for you.”

With that answer, that old Communist’s skepticism melted away and he replied, “Thank you so much for your kindness to help me understand what this demonstration of love and attention is all about.” On that day, God used the influence of a driver from our ministry to soften the hardened heart of that lost soul for whom Jesus died.

People frequently make a wrong assumption that they must have a seminary degree or a Bible school diploma before they can be used by God. But in New Testament times, there were no seminaries or Bible schools to attend because the Church was new and was still being established. But because the Christian faith was still in its infancy and was so different from the pagan religions of the Roman Empire, people were skeptical of Christianity and didn’t understand its message.

In fact, many were even afraid of Christians! Pagans had many questions about what Christians really believed, and false rumors about followers of Christ abounded.

In the midst of this situation, the apostle Peter told the early believers, “But sanctify the Lord God in your hearts: and be ready always to give an answer to every man that asketh you a reason of the hope that is in you with meekness and fear…” (1 Peter 3:15). Remember, when Peter wrote this verse, he was not writing to a classroom filled with theologians; he was writing to believers — many of them new believers — to encourage them to use whatever influence they had to bring people to Jesus Christ.

Peter exhorted believers, “…Be ready always to give an answer to every man that asketh a reason of the hope that is in you.…” The phrase “be ready always” is a translation of the Greek words etoimoi aei. The word etoimoi is a form of the word etoimos, which means to be ready or to be prepared. It is an attitude that is always set to go, eager, prompt, and raring to get started. It is a perpetual mindset of being ready to get started on a project, to take on a challenge, or to take initiative of some sort. To have such a readiness also implies preparation. Inherent in this command to be ready is the idea that one must do everything in his power to equip himself for that moment when he is to be called to action.

In fact, this perpetual mindset to “be ready always” is made abundantly clear in Greek by the use of the word aei, which can be translated always, at all times, constantly, or perpetually. In First Peter 3:15, the apostle Peter was urging his readers (and us as well), “…Be constantly and perpetually ready, set to go and prompt to act.…”

Then Paul went on to write what you must be “ready” to do! He said you must “…Be ready always to give an answer to every man that asketh a reason of the hope that is in you.…”

The word “answer” is the Greek word apologia, a compound of the word apo and logos. In this case, the word apo means back, and the word logia, from logos, is the Greek word for words. But when they are compounded, the new word apologia means to answer back, to reply, to respond, to explain, or to defend. It is the same word that the apostle Paul used in Philippians 1:16 when he wrote that he had been “…set for the defense of the gospel.” In using this word, Paul acknowledged that part of his God-given task was to answer questions put to him by unbelievers about the Gospel.

There is no doubt about it. Because Peter used the word apologia, he unmistakably was telling you that, as a Christian, you must “…Be constantly and perpetually ready, be set to go, and be prompt to answer every man that asks a reason of the hope that is in you….”

Peter says we are be fully prepared to answer “every man” who inquires about what we believe — explaining the nature of the hope that resides in our hearts and why we believe it. The words “every man” in Greek is panti, which is an all-encompassing word that literally means every man, every individual, and every person — with no exceptions! This one statement affirms that the Gospel is for every man on the face of the earth, regardless of race, class, or color. Peter told us not to be surprised if people “ask” about our faith. In fact, we should anticipate that they will ask. This is the reason Peter urged us to be prepared and ready to answer!

When Peter says non-Christians will “ask” about the hope that is in us, the word “ask” is the Greek word aiteo. The word aiteo means to be adamant in requesting and demanding something. In other words, this is not a mere wish, but a demand for an answer to an insatiable longing either to have something or know something. In fact, the word aiteo is the very word used in Mark 15:43, where the Bible tells us that Joseph of Arimathea “craved” the body of Jesus after the crucifixion. The word “craved” is a great translation of the word aiteo, for that night an all-consuming desire drove Joseph of Arimathea to go to Pilate to strongly demand and adamantly insist that Jesus’ body be released to him. (For more on this word, see Sparkling Gems 1, April 10.)

Peter used this same strong word — aiteo — to alert us to the fact that when non-Christians finally work up the nerve to “ask” us questions or to inquire about the faith and hope they see in us, we need to be quick to answer, because they really want to know — or they wouldn’t be asking! It’s just like the old Communist who inquired why we were doing so much for the elderly population of Moscow. Although his question seemed skeptical, the truth was that this elderly man really wanted to know why we were doing what we did. He longed to know the answer; that’s why he asked. Thank God, there was a “regular ol’ believer” sitting next to him who was ready to give him the answer!

How ready were you to give an answer the last time someone asked you about your faith?

If you found yourself sitting next to a non-Christian who asked you about what you believe, why you believe it, and how your faith affects your life, how would you answer these questions?

How prepared are you today to give an answer to those who ask a reason for the hope that is in you?

Don’t make the mistake of thinking you aren’t adequate to answer such questions because you haven’t been to seminary or Bible school. I remind you again that when Peter wrote this verse, there were no seminary or Bible school graduates with diplomas. All that was there at that time were simple, everyday Christians — just like you. They went to work and conducted their normal affairs every day. And in the process of it all, they were constantly rubbing elbows with non-Christians from every walk of life, every class of society, and every ethnic group, who asked: “What is your faith all about?” “Why do you believe what you believe?” “Can you give me the reason for the hope that is in you?”

God uses people, and you may find that He orchestrates a meeting between you and a person who ends up sitting next to you. You don’t have to be a theologian to tell someone why you love Jesus and what He has done in your life. But it would be wise for you to ponder what you would say if someone asked you a reason for the hope that is in you. In doing so, you’re taking heed to Peter’s admonition to the early Christians when he wrote: “…Be constantly and perpetually ready, be set to go, and be prompt to answer every man that asks a reason of the hope that is in you.…”

Today God is calling out to you and me, urging us to be available and always ready to give an answer to those who crave to know more about Jesus and what He has done in our lives. We are spiritually obligated to answer to those who want to know. So let me ask you: Are you available to share your testimony or to use your influence to help someone come to a personal knowledge of Jesus Christ? Are you ready to give an answer to every person who asks a reason for the hope that is in you?

MY PRAYER FOR TODAY

Lord, I am deeply convicted that I need to be more open about sharing my faith with non-Christians I see and talk to every day. I know they feel empty and are searching for the real reason for life. I remember how lost I felt before You came into my life and gave me a new purpose. I thank You for giving me Your compassion for those who are without Christ. Let me speak words so filled with wisdom and grace that they will minister grace and clearly explain the hope I have in Christ — a hope that they, too, can share. Thank You for causing a burning passion to grow within me to see people saved. I don’t ever want to be so busy in my own affairs that I forget people need to be saved. I don’t want to be hardhearted or uncaring about people’s eternal status. So I stir up a strong desire deep inside me to see people saved and delivered by Your power!

I pray this in Jesus’ name!

MY CONFESSION FOR TODAY

I confess that I am deeply concerned for unsaved people — especially those that I rub elbows with every day. I accept my God-given responsibility to share Jesus with those who are lost — especially to those who appeal to me for answers regarding the reason for the hope that is in me. When people ask me, I am not ashamed of the Gospel, for it is the power of God that leads to salvation; rather, I am bold, eager to answer, and ready to tell them the Good News about Jesus Christ. He has changed my life! Therefore, I am prepared at any moment to introduce others to the same saving and life-changing message that has revolutionized my life and given me a relationship with God Almighty.

I declare this by faith in Jesus’ name!

QUESTIONS FOR YOU TO CONSIDER

Can you think of one person you are acquainted with who needs to know Jesus Christ? Who is that person?

Be honest — what steps have you taken to help that one person personally know Jesus Christ? Can you truthfully tell God that you have done your part to share the truth about Jesus and of His power to save him or her?

If First Peter 3:15 commands us to be ready to answer every man that asks a question about the hope that is in us, what are you doing to prepare yourself so that you can answer questions about your faith, why you believe what you believe, what your faith does for you, or what the Bible teaches about Jesus Christ? What are you doing to get yourself ready to answer the questions any non-Christian may ask?

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stephenaltrogge-blog · 5 years

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What comes to your mind when you hear the question, “How does God speak to us?”

I’m willing to bet that your answer is largely shaped by your background. If you grew up in a Charismatic church that emphasized that ongoing work of the Holy Spirit, you may think about things like prophecies. If you grew up in a conservative church with a strong emphasis on Bible preaching, you probably thought first of the Bible.

The church I grew up in evolved over the years, morphing from a primarily charismatic church to being primarily Reformed. Yeah, I know. Quite an identity change.

As you can imagine, when asked, “How does God speak to us today,” my brain goes all over the place, always on the verge of shorting out.

But what does the Bible say regarding God speaking to us today? When it comes to actually hearing the voice of God, what does Scripture tell us? God’s word, more than anything else, should inform our answer.

It should be noted that God speaks to us with varying degrees of clarity, depending on the way he’s speaking to us. Everything must be tested against the word of God to ensure that it truly is God’s words and not some cockamamie concoction cooked up by our own brains.

So how does God speak to us today? Here are FIVE glorious ways, drawn directly from Scripture.

1. How Does God Speak To Us? Through His Son

Hebrews 1:1-2 says:

Long ago, at many times and in many ways, God spoke to our fathers by the prophets, but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son, whom he appointed the heir of all things, through whom also he created the world.

Throughout the Old Testament, God spoke to his people in a huge variety of ways, including through prophets, face-to-face (like with Moses), via angels, and even through a mangey old donkey (Balaam had that privilege).

All these revelations of God were limited and incomplete, only giving glimpses of God’s staggering glory. These visions of God were like looking at a mountain range through a crack in a wall. Only a limited portion of his beauty and glory could be seen.

But now God has spoken to us in a much fuller, more complete way: through his Son. Jesus Christ is God himself and he pulls back the curtain for us on what God is truly like. Jesus reveals the beautiful, breathtaking character of God in stunning clarity.

This is why Jesus said to Philip in John 14:9:

Have I been with you so long, and you still do not know me, Philip? Whoever has seen me has seen the Father. How can you say, ‘Show us the Father’?

Every action Jesus did and every word he spoke revealed the character of the Trinity. He was literally God in the flesh, a tangible, touchable, utterly glorious revelation of God’s character. When we behold Jesus, we are beholding God himself.

How does God speak to us today? Through Jesus. If you want to know God and hear his voice, read the gospels. Savor the Savior. He is a window into heaven, of sorts, allowing us to get a clear, unobstructed view of God himself.

2. How Does God Speak To Us? Through His Word

2 Timothy 3:16 says, “All Scripture is breathed out by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness.”

I love the phrase, “Breathed out by God.” It’s such a vivid picture of how God speaks to us through his word.

Every word in the Bible is God’s word to us. Scripture is God speaking to us, revealing himself to us, leading us in his ways.

Psalm 119:24 says, “Your testimonies are my delight; they are my counselors.” The testimonies of God (aka the Bible) counsel us, lead us, and guide us in the ways of God.

Writing about a time when God “spoke” to him, John Piper says:

[The experience] has increased my love for the Bible as God’s very word, because it was through the Bible that I heard these divine words and through the Bible I have experiences like this almost every day. The very God of the universe speaks on every page into my mind — and your mind. We hear his very words.

In other words, God took what was already written in the Bible and used those words to speak to John Piper. God does the same thing for me on a consistent basis, and he will for you too if you read the Bible.

How does God speak to us? He speaks through his word. If you want to hear the voice of God, simply open up your Bible and read. God is waiting to speak to you. Isn’t that a glorious thing?

3. How Does God Speak To Us? Through His Spirit

Scripture makes it clear that each of us is a temple of the Holy Spirit. In other words, the Holy Spirit actually dwells within us, just as he dwelled in the temple in the Old Testament. Isn’t that absolutely incredible? The Holy Spirit actually, truly dwells in you!

The Holy Spirit speaks to us in a number of wonderfully specific ways. As we read God’s word, the Spirit speaks to us, convicting us, encouraging us, and strengthening us. You could say that the Holy Spirit causes us to come alive to God’s word every time we read it. He hovers over the pages of sacred Scripture, setting our hearts ablaze as we read it.

I also believe that the Spirit speaks to us in more subjective ways. Have you ever felt prompted to pray for something out of the blue? That’s the Holy Spirit. Have you ever been suddenly convicted of sin? That’s God speaking to you. Have you ever felt the small (or large) push toward obeying God’s word? That’s the Holy Spirit at work.

Speaking of the impulse to pray, the great preacher D.M. Lloyd Jones said:

Always respond to every impulse to pray. I would make an absolute law of this – always obey such an impulse.

Where does it come from? It is the work of the Holy Spirit; it is a part of the meaning of ‘Work out your salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God which worketh in you both to will and to do of his good pleasure’ (Phil 2:12-13).

In his book Experiencing God, Henry Blackaby puts it this way:

Anything of spiritual significance that happens in your life will be a result of God’s activity in you. He is infinitely more concerned with your life and your relationship with Him than you or I could possibly be.

The Holy Spirit is always active, always moving, always achieving God’s good purposes in us.

How does God speak to us? Through the ongoing work of the Holy Spirit. If you want to hear the voice of God, ask the Holy Spirit to work in you. Ask him to help you be more sensitive to his subtle promptings.

4. God Speaks To Us Through Others

Ephesians 4:15 says, “Rather, speaking the truth in love, we are to grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ…”

God uses other believers to speak to us. I’ve experienced this many times myself. As I’m talking with a friend, they’ll speak the truth of God’s word to me and I find myself encouraged or convicted or strengthened. It’s an amazing thing, isn’t it? God uses frail, earthen vessels like us to speak God’s word to each other.

To be clear, I’m not saying that certain people have divine authority to speak into our lives. Rather, I’m saying that as we fellowship with other believers, God often uses their words to give unique grace to us.

I think this is why Paul said, “Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up, as fits the occasion, that it may give grace to those who hear (Ephesians 4:29).”

Our words are incredibly powerful, and God uses them specifically to build others up in grace.

How does God speak to us today? Through the good, encouraging, upbuilding words of others. If you want to hear God’s voice, spend time hanging out with other Christians. Don’t isolate yourself or become a Lone Ranger Christian. God wants to speak to you through others.

5. How Does God Speak To Us? Through Creation

Psalm 19:1-2 says, “The heavens declare the glory of God, and the sky above proclaims his handiwork. Day to day pours out speech, and night to night reveals knowledge.”

There is a real sense in which God speaks to us through his creation. The heavens and the earth, the galaxies and the supernovas all proclaim the glory of God. They tell us that there is a creator, that he is gloriously creative, and that he is overwhelmingly powerful.

Have you ever looked up at a starry night sky and been so stunned that you felt compelled to praise God? Have you ever had your breath stolen by a pink-hued sunrise? That’s God speaking to you through his creation. He is saying, “Behold my glory! Behold my splendor! Worship me, for I am worthy.”

Romans 1:20 puts it this way:

For his invisible attributes, namely, his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly perceived, ever since the creation of the world, in the things that have been made.

In other words, creation loudly shouts forth certain things about God. It declares that there is a God who is eternally powerful and divine in nature. As we behold the complexity of a snowflake or the power of an exploding volcano, God himself is speaking to us.

How does God speak to us? Through the glory of his creation. If you want to hear the voice of God, simply go outside. Take a meandering hike through the country and behold the glory of God. Savor his divine attributes.

God Wants To Speak To You

Isn’t it an amazing thing that the living God wants to speak to you? Doesn’t that absolutely blow your mind? We don’t serve a passive God who is far off an uninvolved in our lives. No, we serve a God who is constantly active, constantly speaking, constantly moving in our lives.

So study and savor Jesus. Read the Bible. Respond to the Holy Spirit. Fellowship with others. Go outside. God is ready and willing to speak to you. You just need to be listening.

The post How Does God Speak To Us? Five GLORIOUS Ways appeared first on The Blazing Center.

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