#IT'S OKAY JASON LET THEM PROPHESY | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

paperwayne · 4 years

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steady.

50 Wordless Ways to Say “I Love You” ➡ 1. Holding their hands when they are shaking.

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Word Count: 2,450 words

Warnings: None

You’ve known Jason Todd long enough to know how sticky his fingers can be. It’s a talent, really, something to be admired in the slums of Gotham; an apple here, a wallet there, and more recently, tires right off of cars.

Stealing isn’t wrong if you’re trying to survive. But sometimes, you can’t resist doing it out of pleasure rather than necessity.

Jason’s hand is clean and warm as it curls firmly around your wrist – a habit that has now become a signal, back when you had been loose-lipped and jumpy whenever the two of you walked past the cashiers at stores – and you tear your gaze away from the crude caricature of Batman you had been scribbling onto an Etch A Sketch you had found, blinking as your friend glances at your artwork.

“Funny,” he compliments, and you crack a smile before he jerks his head slightly toward the exit. “C’mon, let’s go.”

You give the gummy Etch A Sketch a few vigorous shakes and slide it back onto the dusty shelf from whence it came. As you and Jason make your way to the door, the old man at the register stares suspiciously. You smile at him, innocent in your youth.

The door is just about to close completely before it swings open again, but by then you had crossed the street.

“You little brats, get back here!”

Jason’s grip on you tightens and that’s another signal.

Run.

You don’t have to look to know that Jason’s biting down a grin as you drag each other along the dirty, buckling sidewalk, evading indifferent passersby as the cashier shouts out a few expletives in vain. You keep your breathing in time with his, pumping your arms as you leap over cracks and clumps of yellowing grass. Jason’s hand slides down from your wrist to wrap around your own hand, vicelike and stubborn. It’s easier to run that way, you think.

Eventually, you find yourselves in an alleyway that’s mostly empty, save for a homeless woman dozing off next to the dumpster. Jason lets go of your hand to unzip his jacket while you do the same. The trash bag behind you crackles when you shuffle back to lean against the brick wall, panting.

“So,” he murmurs, blue eyes a steely shade of grey in the shadows of the alley, “Purple or green?”

“… Green.” You try to swallow and moisten your parched throat. “R-Red or orange?”

“Something wrong, [Y/n]?”

You pause when Jason asks that question, one of his eyebrows raised. His gaze darts down to the pairs of socks in your two hands. That’s when you realize that they are shaking, and it’s a split second later when you realize that it’s because your hands are shaking. Trembling, more like.

“Oh.” Immediately, you clench your fists, embarrassed as you try to still your jittery fingers. “I didn’t even – it’s nothing.” In the brief moment of skeptical silence, you say the only other thing that automatically comes to mind. “Sorry.”

Jason’s curious expression morphs into one of confusion. “The hell’re you saying ‘sorry’ for?” he asks. His tone is a little rough, but when you blurt out another ‘sorry,’ he has the sense to soften a bit. “’S’nothing to say sorry for. We didn’t get caught, so you don’t gotta be shaking.”

You nod, looking down, and he sighs.

“Here.”

He takes your red pair of socks and tucks it into his pocket, then unceremoniously presses the candy bar with the green wrapper into your hand and places your other hand over it. You think that he’ll pull away soon, but he doesn’t; his hands engulf both of yours like some sort of sandwich, and then they stay. His skin is no longer warm like it had been in the store, but his hold is just as firm as it had been when he gripped your wrist not ten minutes ago.

Jason stares intently at his hands and yours, and after a few minutes, he finally lets go, satisfied.

“It’s choco-caramel,” he says, as if nothing had just happened. “Lucky guess.”

You tuck the candy bar into your jacket pocket, hands steady.

II.

You’ve known Jason Todd long enough to know that sometimes, he feels too much.

There’s a whoosh of air as your bedroom door opens, and you think you hear yourself mumble a few protests as the door slams loudly behind Jason. Eyes squinting, you reach out to turn on the bedside lamp, flinching when you click it on.

Heavy, angry breaths heave from the boy’s chest when you fix your gaze upon his hunched-over figure. His mask is gone, but the rest of his uniform still displays its bright and cheerful colors, a stark contrast to the darkness rolling off Jason in waves. Your eyes trace downward from his hair, matted and sweaty from a night of patrolling, to his arms and his hands, straight and stiff at his sides.

Anger still bubbles beneath the surface of his skin, you can see; it escapes in the form of shaking arms and fists.

“Jay?” you murmur in the choking silence.

As if awakened, Jason whirls around to kick the wall. It’s enough to jolt the rest of the sleep out of you, and you blink as he continues to slam his foot against the plaster and concrete, cursing both under and over his breath.

“Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!”

“Jason!”

You throw the blankets off you and cross the room, grabbing his arm. He tears away just as quickly, jaw clenched as he shoots you a venomous glare that’s not quite all there.

“Why the hell are you in my room?!”

“This is my room!”

“No, it’s —” Jason cuts himself off as he finally registers the contents of your bedroom, gaze flitting across your stuffed animals and the Etch a Sketch on your bedside drawer. His mouth tightens, and his expression crumples back into one of irritation.

“No, you’re staying here until you tell me what’s wrong,” you state firmly when he moves to open the door again. Reaching out to touch his arm once more, you hold it as you lead him to your bed and sit down at the edge. “Did Bruce get mad at you again?”

Jason scoffs, high-pitched and loud. “He’s always mad at me during patrol. He’s got a stick up his ass.”

You examine the way he clenches and unclenches his hands in his lap. His breathing is still uneven. “… Something went wrong, didn’t it?”

“He got shot.”

“Bruce?” You frown. Though it’s obviously painful, you know that Bruce’s been shot before, and he gets over it pretty quickly every time.

“No. A – a kid. He was little. I wasn’t quick enough. It was in the leg, but Bruce said if I stayed back the bastard wouldn’t have fired the gun in the first place.” Jason spits out the words like they’re poison. “The hell does he know? He’s never used a gun in his life.”

You chew on your lip. You can picture the scene all too well, bits of memories of Crime Alley shootouts and family homicides filling in the gaps. You can imagine the scream of the child. You can imagine the argument in the Batcave afterwards, Batman glowering over Jason like the Gotham Clocktower, dark and disapproving, as Jason throws his mask down and stomps away.

“Did the kid get to the hospital?” you whisper.

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” You breathe out slowly, deliberately. “That’s good. I’m glad.”

Jason is quiet. You look at his hands again, and as if in a daze, you reach out to hold them.

The gloves are dirty. You pull them off as his hands unclench, blinking down at the pale skin mottled with purple bruises at the knuckles. You turn them over to inspect his palms and fingertips as if you’re about to read them, prophesy about his fate or something, but really you just mean to look at them for the sake of doing so. It brings you back in time, touching his hands. They’re still rough with callouses. Still shaking.

“As long as you’ve stopped them,” you mutter, relaxing your hold as the tremors slow, then fade from his muscles. “It doesn’t matter how you do it as long as they don’t do it again.”

“Thanks,” he says. It’s forced out, but it’s sincere. You meet his eyes when he extracts his hands from yours, fingers pulling away as slow as pulling taffy, and they’re tired but resolute.

You almost kiss him that night. But you don’t, thinking that a better time would probably come, when both of you are older and wiser and happier, and when Jason would perhaps not mind kissing you.

That chance is buried along with Jason a few months later, and with it, a part of yourself.

III.

You used to know Jason Todd.

Used to, because Jason is gone. You had been there at his funeral. You had watched his casket get lowered into the ground, and you had thrown a dumb flower at it like it would magically make a wooden box with a dead body prettier somehow. You had cried for him.

Jason Todd is dead. But then Uncle Alfred calls, and all of a sudden, you aren’t so sure anymore.

Although Bruce had initially objected, Alfred tells you about the empty casket and the Red Hood. He asks if any men had visited you lately, or if you feel like someone’s watching you. You tell him that you’d probably be dead if either of those things happened. He chuckles.

He tells you that Bruce sends his regards. You hang up.

It’s kind of ironic that you almost get killed that same night.

Your ears are still ringing and the frigid night air makes it hard to breathe; the ghost of a cold, hard pistol pressed against your temple renders you dizzy. The whole thing could have been avoided if you’d remembered to test the battery of your damn taser this month, but you hadn’t, and now three bodies are in the alleyway – yours; the man that had touched you, now deceased, lying on the asphalt; and a strange man with the gun that had won.

The rest of the smoke finally dissipates from the barrel. Your savior for the night spins the weapon in his hand before tucking it away at his hip, strolling over to crouch down at the thief’s side. With no great effort, he shoves a hand underneath the corpse to roll it over.

You stand, still quite in shock, as the man in the red helmet reaches into the dead man’s back pocket and plucks out a square, leather object. He stands up and holds it out to you, and you realize that it’s your wallet.

You take it. “Thanks … er …”

“Red Hood,” he says, looking down at you. It feels like he’s staring.

“Yeah,” your heart is in your throat and you will the next few words to come out smoothly, “I know. I’ve heard about you.”

“Well, shucks, I’m flattered. I bet the rumors are full of sunshine and rainbows.”

The words seem innocent, but the tone is familiar. You know this tone and manner of speaking. It’s baiting, a subtle prod to reveal yourself, and overwhelming curiosity leads you to reciprocate.

“There’s not many vigilantes out in Gotham who aren’t under the bat, you know.”

The Red Hood barks out a sharp laugh. “Don’t need the bat when I’ve got a gun.”

He’s right, though you know Batman certainly wouldn’t appreciate that reasoning. Your gaze darts down to the leather holster cradling that deadly weapon. You wet your lips, cautiously, as he leans against the wall opposite you and waits for you to talk again.

“You could’ve just knocked him out.”

“I also could’ve let him splatter your brains out. Life’s full of possibilities.” He uncrosses his arms, and you, for some insane reason, stay where you are as he suddenly pushes off the wall. His voice lowers. “So’s death.”

Your next words are exceptionally careful. He’s getting closer, the white eyes of his helmet washed in shadows as you meet them as solidly as you can. “I’ve heard about that too.”

(Despite your greatest efforts, you feel your hands begin to shake. No no no. You cross your arms to hide them and look more put together than you feel.)

“Really,” he says. “Do tell.”

“My uncle,” you begin slowly, “was just telling me today about a casket that was recently dug back up in the cemetery. They found that the person in it – who was supposed to be in it – was never there.”

“Wow. That’s wild.”

“Yeah. Wild.”

God, your hands won’t stop shaking. They tremble, suffocating in the crooks of your elbows, and you’re growing more and more frustrated as the Red Hood just stands there, infuriatingly silent as he watches your patience slowly unravel until the last thread snaps.

“Look,” you finally exclaim, taking a single step forward; your voice is hoarse and desperate and barely above a whisper. “Jason, if that’s you, tell me. It was just us for so long – you owe me a yes or no, goddammit!”

Your fingers are achingly, annoyingly stiff. Tremors wrack through each tendon and joint. Breathing heavily, you realize that you’re now gripping his biceps, blunt nails digging into the soft leather of his jacket, and that you’re standing much closer to him than you thought you were.

A solid minute passes. Then, slowly, the Red Hood reaches up to grasp your forearms, his hands dragging down to meet yours as they pull away from his jacket. You bite your tongue, glaring at the space between you.

Jason squeezes your hands tight, and then he lets go.

Your arms drop down to your sides, limp, as he pats your shoulder, looking to his left. “Your apartment’s just across the street, right? You’ll probably make it,” is all he says.

You just nod emptily and amble out of the alleyway, mind blurry while he trails close behind, leaving the corpse of your assailant where it had fallen. There’s no cars driving around right now so you just walk across the street without looking both ways, only stopping once you reach your apartment door and have your key out to unlock it.

You turn around before opening the door; no one’s around, naturally, and you exhale and step inside.

As soon as the lock clicks, your legs give out underneath you. You crumple on the cold tile, hands folded and crushing against your mouth in some semblance of a prayer, and start to cry – and you can’t, for the life of you, figure out why.

[50 Wordless Ways to Say “I Love You” prompt list (requests using this prompt list are CLOSED)]

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m00nslippers · 5 years

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It’s All About the All-Caste in RH:O Issue #34!

This issue was kind of filler and recap to be honest, but I’m always down for finding out more ways that Jason is awesome and we did get a little bit of that here, so let’s jump in to the review!

Right off the bat (hur hur) we flashback to Jason’s time with the All-Caste. He quotes Neitzsche, “Whoever battles monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster himself. And when you look long into the abyss, the abyss also looks into you.” This is juxtaposed by Jason literally fighting a bigass monster as a teen in the All-Caste.

Now this is actually a pretty awesome thing because 1) It’s Jason being a literature nerd, which is what sustains my life. 2) It’s actually pretty damn relevant to what is happening in the plot right now, with Jason fighting monsters (Gotham’s rogues) and Jason dipping into that pool of being a monster himself. There is just so much foreshadowing that Jason is setting himself up for a fall, I’m just not sure how it’s going to shake out yet. Honestly unless he does something a lot worse than what he’s been doing, I don’t personally actually fault Jason or think he’s a monster? Like let’s be real here, the guy gets results.

There is some really awesome stuff here. Internally Jason says “When you’ve died once already--stared at the actual gates of hell--and clawed your way back through six feet of dirt? When you stare at a monster? Nine times out of ten...they’ll blink first.” Damn.

And then the monster, who calls himself “The Devourer of Young Souls”, asks Jason why the heck Ducra chose to send some kid after him, to which Jason says, “She didn’t choose me, she didn’t send me, but she knew better than to try to stop me!” Damn.

Apparently Jason is literally a child of prophesy among the All-Caste. I don’t remember if that was something we knew already or something we learn here, but I think it’s interesting that he basically completed the prophecy and moved on. Because Jason did what he was there for, he slew the monster, fought the Untitled, and now everyone expects him to just stop fighting--and he’s just like, “Uh yeah, no.” Jason’s life is an endless war. It always has been, he doesn’t know how to live another life.

One thing I’ll give Lobdell. I think he’s pretty good at dialogue. He has his moments. He’s not as bad as people make him out to be, but I feel like this guy really needs a writing partner. His dialogue is generally good, his ideas are usually pretty interesting, but his plots just need work and his characterization is inconsistent sometimes. It’s the story execution that needs help, also I think he avoids or brushes over emotional stuff a little too much sometimes and that’s a real detriment to his arcs.

After this Jason summons a crap ton of All-Blades and goes MCU Hela on the monster’s ass and I need current Jason to do this, why doesn’t current Jason fight more actual magical monsters, clearly that’s what he’s good at? I need more of this, it’s too cool. It’s super unique among the bat-family, he’s the only one of them with an inherent answer to magic, why is this so underutilized? *Sigh*

The story picks back up in the present with Jason at a restaurant in France, on a date with Isabel. I’m a little annoyed that these two are back together but I think their interaction here actually kind of puts a perspective on it that I approve of. Jason has an extra champagne glass there and is thinking about his adventures in France with Roy when they fought evil mimes back in Red Hood/Arsenal (Yeah, unpack that one). The champagne glass is also a reference to events in RHATO New 52, when Roy orders a glass of alcohol and uses it to test his resolve for sobriety, which happened on the very same plane ride where Jason meets Isabel. Jason is clearly still mourning Roy, not to mention Artemis and Bizarro. I think this kind of shows that while he probably does still like Isabel as a person, he’s not necessarily in this relationship because he loves her and wants to get back together--he’s vulnerable and needs somebody, anybody to lean on and she’s made herself available.

People give Isabel a lot of flak and I don’t really get it? She’s never been mean or lied. She’s never judged Jason for any of the things he does, and she supports him emotionally, she just doesn’t want to be involved in vigilante craziness which is a perfectly sane thing to want. I think she’s really underdeveloped as a character--What’s her past? What does she like? Who is her family? She’s kind of generic--but as a person there isn’t anything to complain about. I still prefer Artemis, but I think Isabel gets too much hate.

Back at the Iceburg Lounge, Miguel is in charge of fixing the place up after the attack by the assassins in the previous issue. Miguel talks a little about this other reality he says he sees or senses, which is maybe a hint to some future event that is hopefully gonna fix every character inconsistency we all hate but probably not (hey I can dream). We get a tease about Miguel possibly figuring out Jason is keeping Cobblepot prisoner, which I think we all know is coming, but it doesn’t actually happen in this scene.

We see Jason walking Isabel to her hotel and it’s pretty cute to see Jason holding a girl’s hand, okay? I do like it. I almost feel like her quip about proving she doens’t love him for his money is Lobdell jabbing at everyone who is saying she’s a gold-digger. He’s just like, “Dude, she’s not, lay off” I never thought she was but the idea definitely floated around, which I think was a bit uncharitable to her character, as I’ve said. She also says the “L-word” that Jason is so allergic to but she manages to keep him from freaking out about it. I think she does actually love him or she wouldn’t be here and I also think the fact that she comes out and says it is A SERIOUS DEATH FLAG. Ya’ll heard it here first, I think Isabel is going to die at the end of this arc.

Also, Jason speaks exactly one word of French but in my mind this is proof that my language-boy speaks French.

Jason leaves her at her hotel to do some Red Hood stuff and calls Suzie Su on the way to check in. She’s fishing for what Jason is doing, she’s suspicious, but he doesn’t give her anything. Jason, you aren’t doing a great job of convincing anyone you aren’t up to no good. Unrelated to the plot, but let me just say, I like the outfit the artist gave Suzie. Artists always seem to give her really hangy dresses and depict her as gross, but she looks cute here! Those leggings are cool!

Then the scene goes to Essence doing some pretty awesome All-Caste magic to contact the guy Jason dusted, and he goes on to say some BS about Jason’s eyes being empty and how he’s not the same person who was their champion as a teen. I think narratively this is supposed to mean something, but it seemed like few of the All-Caste actually approved of Jason to begin with, and this guy didn’t give the impression he was one of them, so why we are trusting his opinion is a question to. The dude is biased, he never approved of Jason.

Essense talks to S’aru, the dude who took Jason’s most cherished memory all the way back in RHATO New 52, and Essence seems to suspect this has something to do with the ‘emptiness’ in his eyes and his actions in the presence. His most cherished memory was a time when he was sick and had to stay home from patrol and Bruce stayed with him. I mean, sure, you can argue this maybe changed how Jason sees Bruce now and is less willing to believe the guy loves him but Bruce’s actions in the presence don’t exactly even jive with that memory so...eh. I don’t know, maybe there is just some magic awfulness that happens when you lose that memory, no matter what it is.

At the end of the scene Ducra floats in to probably tell Essence she can go attack Jason or whatever but we don’t know what she decided for sure because it ends on a cliff-hanger.

Back in France, Jason barges into a perfume shop that is fronting a Kill-Bill style meeting of some criminals calling themselves "The Euro Bloc” who have ties to Cobblepot. They finance the guy in exchange for him laundering their money through his Casino, and I would just like to point out that this is Jason doing exactly what he said he was planning to do--dismantle all of Penguin’s criminal activities. I don’t see anything wrong with what he’s doing, why is Jason ‘empty’ or a ‘bad guy’? He points out later that he didn’t even kill anyone while in Europe, so what is everyone’s beef? I don’t get it.

So Jason basically says, stop your activities in Gotham, also, leave me alone. They do the typical, “OR, why don’t we just kill you now?” but it turns out that Wingman is waiting in a kickass plane ready to murder everyone if they make a move and so they reluctantly back off. The plane seems to belong to Wingman, who we find out is named ‘James’. I still have absolutely no idea who Wingman is supposed to be or what his relationship with Jason is, though. I really hope we get some more of this information soon.

One thing of note though, is that Wingman is THE ONLY ally of Jason’s right now that knows that he is operating as Red Hood still. Suzie doesn’t, Isabel doesn’t, Miguel doesn’t. Wingman holds some kind of significance, and seems to need/want Jason to be operating as Red hood in Gotham for some reason, which was why he was following Jason, to convince him to return to Gotham, but we just don’t know why yet.

And then in the end, Miguel finally finds out Penguin is behind the glass and the title seems to imply Miguel is going to turn on Jason. penguin must convince him he’s the one wronged (I mean he IS the one wronged but he’s not actually a good guy so we know this is bad even if Miguel doesn’t) because i can’t see Penguin overpowering Miguel who has all this Psionic power.

So this issue was interesting. I loved seeing all the All-Caste stuff though on the whole, it’s mostly set up. Next issue, stuff is going down! I can’t wait!

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tsukiyaki · 5 years

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even when i don’t cooperate

Lord God,

“I’m doing better now. We made it.”

I want to say these words and mean them, so badly. But I can’t. Not yet. And not knowing when I can again is suffocating, because I don’t want to be not okay anymore.

I’m sorry, Lord, that I don’t know how to receive your love and comfort right now. When you want me to do something for you or hack and slash for your kingdom, I’m in. It takes my mind off the pain in my chest. But when you draw near as the lover of my soul, or as my father in heaven, I’m going to greet you with a door, boarded up and bolted shut. I’m a conflicted, irrational child on the other side, weeping over my own brokenness, over how I need you and miss you so much, but I can’t bring myself to look at you because it reminds me of this open wound that in all honesty, I hold you partially responsible for.

I need you to bust through that door. I need to know that you’ll fight for me and win a landslide victory, even when I fight ugly against you. I’m tired of always trying to do the right thing, holding myself to a standard that is higher than I can maintain without growing bitter and resentful for having to meet it. I think the best thing I can do for myself right now is to stop trying so hard to be the person I think I should be, because I’m not there yet. I never wanted to point my finger at you and blame you for my unhappiness, Lord, but this is the only way I can relate to you as your child right now. To take it all out on you, because you can take it, and only you can take it, even though you’re the only one who never ever deserves it.

But I’ll do myself a favor and record the bits and pieces I remember of how you’ve pursued me in the past month. Your love is relentless. And I hear you. I hear your gentle whispers through the door. Maybe one day soon, but certainly one day eventually, I’ll read through these words, and they’ll finally get through to my calloused heart:

You make a way for me at work every day.

I like my job for the first time in 5 years, and the change that made that happen was handed to me on a silver platter.

I have the best manager and teammates who love me and care for me.

Though I’ve been a mess, I’ve never had to de-prioritize my own wellbeing, because you always make just enough time and space for me to do that without compromising my work.

You continue to speak encouragement through me to the people in my life. If anything, I’ve seen an increased boldness behind my words and genuine affection for others in the midst of my pain. Thank you for the grace that allows me to do what I love most.

On 10/2, you spoke to me clearly through another one of your children, words that I needed to hear, even if I didn’t want to. Still, I recognize this as a divine appointment, for you didn’t delay a single minute after you had prepared my heart to receive your command, but you held off just long enough until I was ready. This day, in order to obey, I decided to let go of something very precious to me. Thus began this arduous process.

On 10/10 and 10/17, my coworker and I read about Noah in our Bible study through Genesis.

Late at night on 10/16, I spilled my guts to a few sisters and started to process in earnest how hard it has been to let go. The next morning, one of them sent me the teddy bear picture. You got me this time. It struck something deep inside of me. I realized I’ve been so reluctant to let go because I loved that teddy bear. And I thought if I could truly say “I love it,” that’s enough to justify keeping it for forever. But it’s not. And you know it’s hard to let go of what I’m holding on to, but you definitely have something better in store. At the end of the day, obedience to you must supersede my love for anything else.

On 10/21, I woke up and wrote another song for the first time in almost 2 months. It was going in one direction, but the bridge came to me and redirected the song to you. It heavily references Noah’s flood.

On 10/23, a sister messaged me a word from you. She said she felt like Jesus was asking me out to dinner. I said He’d have to work for it, but I appreciated it.

On 10/27, I couldn’t muster the energy to worship you until we sang, “Even when I don't see it, you're working. Even when I can't feel it, you're working. You never stop, you never stop working.” At the end of service, a sister prayed for me. When she finished, she held me, looked at me, and said, “I feel it. I feel the pain ... It’s going to be okay.” Then she hugged me. And the way she did all of that disarmed me. Someone else actually knew what it felt like to be me, and they acknowledged that I’m not just weak. That it really does hurt, and it makes sense that I need time to grieve. So I went back to my seat, and I cried for the first time since 10/2. I cried and cried and prayed that I wouldn’t stop until I got it all out of my system, because crying doesn’t come easily to me anymore.

Later on 10/27, I pulled my own name again during prayer time in accountability group (which of course, I didn’t know until after I prophesied over the name on my slip of paper). You told me my heart is like the ark, and we’re still building it to prepare for the flood you’ll release in my life. You will wash away all the pain, all the grime of my past. At the end, I will see your promise, and I will walk forth as the new creation that I already am, completely freed from the chains of yesterday. This time, I finally realized how intentionally you’ve been planting Noah’s story in my life.

On 10/31, my coworker and I continued reading about Noah.

I marveled at how long it took Noah to build that ark. How pointless it could have seemed if he had stopped to compare what he “had to” do with what everyone else “got to” spend their time doing. How he could have stopped at anytime to doubt your command and give up because it was hard labor and didn’t make sense, yet the Bible says “And Noah did all that the Lord commanded him.” It made me feel a lot better about what you commanded me.

One other verse also struck me: “Then the Lord shut him in.” Somehow, when I read that verse, I felt like you were saying, “Don’t be afraid. I see you. I brought you here--to protect you, not to harm you. There is a purpose to this pain.”

Sometime in the last week, I was willing to open up my Dwell app and listen to Job 38-42. They just happened to be the next chunk in the chronological Bible in a Year audio plan I started a while back. You spoke to me through a number of verses, which I found somewhat amusing because you were talking mostly about animals, yet you spoke to me through each one in such a relevant way:

Job 38:39-41 (the lion and raven): “I am a provider, and I provide for you, as I provide for animals that do not know how to pray to me with eloquent words.”

Job 39:2-3 (the mountain goats): “I know the right time for all things, including the fulfillment of my promises in your life. You don’t know when this heavy burden will pass, but I do. And there will be joy and life at the other end.”

Job 39:5-8 (the wild donkey): “I am a liberator. I freed you from bondage, and I’ve given you a home, a lush and vibrant place of provision.”

Job 39:9-12 (the wild ox): “I hold absolute authority. Don’t trust in other people or powers, not even yourself. Trust in me, because I alone have authority to command all people and powers.”

Job 39:13-18 (the ostrich): “I am the source of wisdom. Without me, you labor in vain, and you won’t even be able to recognize the value of what is precious in your life. So ask me for wisdom.”

Job 39:19-25 (the horse): “I am all powerful, the source of your might, and I made you like the horse. You shall laugh at fear and not be dismayed, and you won’t turn back from the sword. This is a hard battle, but admit it--somewhere deep down inside of you, when you hear the trumpet sound, and you smell the battle from afar, you’re not actually afraid. You are ready and aching to claim another victory for my glory.”

Job 39:26-30 (the hawk and eagle): “I am a master strategist, and I give you vision. I know where to position you for success, unique to how I designed you. Don’t compare where you are right now with someone else, because it might not make sense for that person, but it makes sense for you. And if you trust me and obey me, you will land in a place where you can finally see clearly.”

Job 40-41: (Behemoth and Leviathan): “I am not a tiny God. Behold my creations. No one is so fierce that he dares to stir him up. Who then is he who can stand before me? Who has first given to me, that I should repay him? Whatever is under the whole heaven is mine.”

Job 42:10: “I listen to the prayers of my people, which carry the power to forgive sins. Job prayed for the people who failed him, even betrayed him as friends in their failings. I call you to do the same. I empower you to do the same.”

On 11/3, a sister shared her testimony. It was powerful. But what really got me was when she referenced an alternate version of the teddy bear picture. The same picture I can’t get out of my head, and you clearly don’t want me to forget. At this moment, I honestly hate what you ask for in that picture. But I can’t deny that you are clearly reaching out to me, even now.

During service on 11/3, Jason spoke on Mark 10:35-52. Verse 50 hit me: “Throwing his cloak aside, he jumped to his feet and came to Jesus.” The blind man threw his most prized possession aside to ask for sight. In faith, he exchanged his one tangible source of security for the possibility that you would answer his prayer. I thought of the teddy bear in my hands. You’re asking me to trust you, to throw it aside, and to reclaim the singleminded devotion I once had for your vision. You’re inviting me to come before you and confess, “Father, my beloved, I want to see.”

#dominoes

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housemartius · 5 years

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okay but what if daughter of jupiter!hazel?

what if daughter of jupiter!hazel? who was only born in the first place bc it was prophesied that a second great war would ravage the world and at the forefront would be the children of the big 3 and jupiter decided to create his own little army that would help ensure he maintained order and his throne

what if when the time came for hazel to be taken to prepare for the oncoming war, marie refused and decided to take her away to alaska where jupiter would never be able to reach them

what if jupiter found out about this plan and pursued them. and eventually the hunt lead to marie’s untimely death at the hands of a god who’d sworn his love for her long ago but now felt enraged and wronged and neither felt nor saw the need to spare the life of a traitor

what if hazel spent the following years just before the war officially begun training at the roman camp. forced to be the superior soldier her father had bred her for

what if 2 years into the war she was kidnapped from camp and taken to alaska. the cyclopes were influenced by gaea to bid her command bc she needed a powerful demigod to raise alcyoneus, bane of pluto. what if hazel agreed to do it. bc she believed it could help her father and her siblings win the war

what if when the time came for her to give her life as the human sacrifice that was necessary for the giant to rise, she refused. in a moment of clarity she thought about the innocent lives, of both mortals and demigods, the millions who’d suffer and perish due to her actions. she thought about her father who demanded the perfect warrior and nothing else from her. not a daughter, a soldier

what if she summoned all her powers to her and with them destroyed the giant’s phantom island along with the cyclopes

what if it drained her, abusing her power like that, and she only had enough strength to make it back to camp

what if it was hecate who took pity on her, the same goddess who’d given marie the spell necessary to summon jupiter to her all those years ago. what if, driven by guilt, she showed up to camp as her roman counterpart trivia and turned hazel into a marble statue, thus guaranteeing she’d remain frozen in time and her soul would not fall into the hands of pluto

what if, decades later, the spell is suddenly broken and hazel returns to life, to a different century but a not so different camp

what if percy jackson and frank zhang are the first faces she sees? they tell her she’s been freed bc of a prophecy. a prophecy that spoke of a child of jupiter going to the land beyond the gods to free thanatos

what if hazel vehemently refuses but ultimately has no choice on the matter bc mars himself orders her and percy and frank to go

what if the legion forces her too. she’s a child of the king of the gods. she was born to lead and to be an example of excellency to all demigods. to hazel these words feel like poison though

what if she finds out about jason, her half brother, right then and there during the senate meeting. what if, hearing about his accomplishments and his triumphs, she feels hopeful. hopeful that someone else is out there who can maybe understand the burden she carries on her shoulders

what if she freezes when she finally stands before alcyoneus. in her mind it’s only been days since the last time she was in his home, since she’d agreed to bring him to life bc of jupiter and the war

what if, after defeating the giant and the battle for camp jupiter has been won, she’s welcomed as a hero by the legion. what if she can barely look anyone in the eyes bc she still feels the weight of her past, of gaea’s gratitude when hazel had said “yes”

what if, however, that is the moment she decides there’s more she needs to do. for the romans, for the greeks whose existence she’s now aware of. for the mortals and even the gods as well

what if this is when hazel chooses not to be a weapon for her father to wield. that she’s more than just a pawn on someone else’s chessboard

what if this is when hazel realizes she wants to be a hero. not just for the sake of a clear conscience, but for the people around her. for the people she once almost sacrificed to a father and a war she’d never wanted to be a part of in the first place. for the roman demigods who fought alongside her. for the half brother who’s on his way to meet her. for the half sister percy told her about. for her dear mother whose life she lost for the daughter she loved

what if, when learning about the prophecy of the seven, she embraces it fully

what if hazel can’t let go of the past or the expectations everyone, especially her father, has of her but in the end it doesn’t matter bc it’s memory that keeps her going forward

#hazel levesque #pjo #my brain went poof #this might be a bit on the ????? side bc i typed and typed and can't be bothered to reread everything rn bc i'm rly tired #i think i could expand on some things or add more points to this but like.... not now lol i'm sleepy #anyway..... if anyone likes this idea let me know!!#my aus

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gokinjeespot · 7 years

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off the rack #1150

Monday, February 6, 2017

What a great Super Bowl 51 last night. The New England Patriots deserved to win that one. I was cheering for the Atlanta Falcons but they just couldn't sustain their amazing first half efforts and lost. Such is sports.

Bullseye #1 - Ed Brisson (writer) Guillermo Sanna (art) Miroslav Mrva (colours) VC's Clayton Cowles (letters). He's back from the dead and back on the racks in his very own book that's heavy on the bloodshed. What else would you expect for a comic book about a psychopathic killer for hire? Bullseye kills for fun, unlike the Punisher, so that's a bit of a turn off. In part 1 of "The Columbian Connection" Bullseye is hired to retrieve a mob boss's son from a sadistic Columbian drug lord. He is also being chased by an F.B.I. agent seeking revenge for Bullseye killing her husband. These characters may not have any redeeming qualities but Ed's writing is solid and Guillermo's art is nice so I'll keep reading until the mindless mayhem and blood flow gets to be too much. There's a back up story in this giant sized issue by Marv Wolfman (writer) Alec Morgan (art) Frank Martin (colours) VC's Clayton Cowles (letters) that shows just how tough Bullseye is. This book is targeted (har) for fans of the Punisher.

Batman #16 - Tom King (writer) David Finch (art) Jordie Bellaire (colours) John Workman (letters). "I Am Bane" starts here. This new story is a direct consequence of the mission to bring back the Psycho Pirate to cure Gotham Girl. Bane wants the Pirate back and he's going to Gotham City to get him. The first few pages where Bronze Tiger ambushes Batman were a little confusing but it goes to explain why the Psycho Pirate is so important to the story. Bruce tries to keep his loved ones safe from Bane but Damian, Dick and Jason are too stubborn to listen. This sequel to "I Am Suicide" had me hooked with the last page.

Paper Girls #11 - Brian K. Vaughn (writer) Cliff Chiang (art) Matthew Wilson (colours) Jared K. Fletcher (letters). I am so happy that this book is back from its four month break. We catch up with the girls somewhere lost in time but we can't tell if it's the distant past or the future. I've said time and again that I'm not a fan of time travel stories but I have grown to care about these girls and want to see what happens to them.

Star Wars: Darth Maul #1 - Cullen Bunn (writer) Luke Ross (art) Nolan Woodward (colours) VC's Joe Caramagna (letters). Whoever created the look for this villain deserved an Academy Award for make-up. Most fans would say that Darth Vader is the best Star Wars villain but Maul makes Vader look like a weenie in my opinion. Maul has a hate on for Jedis that Cullen exposes to great effect. Looks like I'm going to hang out at the Maul for a while.

Vampirella #0 - Paul Cornell (writer) Jimmy Broxton (art & colours) Travis Lanham (letters). Vampi's back on the racks but this new effort was lacking in anything interesting to make me want to keep reading. First off; Vampirella is barely in it. Then there's her waking up with amnesia to provide a clean slate for new adventures but you don't know enough about her to care what happens next. I've been a fan since the Warren Magazine days and I have been disappointed with the latest attempts at bringing her back. It's a good thing this issue only cost two bits US.

Karnak #6 - Warren Ellis (writer) Rolland Boschi (art) Dan Brown (colours) VC's Clayton Cowles (letters). This finale sees Karnak complete his mission for S.H.I.E.L.D. leaving the bad guy in a sorry state. I didn't get the part about what Karnak wanted for payment so maybe I missed something over the course of this 6-issue mini that took 16 months to complete. What kept me hanging on was that I really liked how Warren portrayed this Inhuman. I hope his new Wildstorm book doesn't drag on like this.

Superman #16 - Peter J. Tomasi & Patrick Gleason (writer) Tony S. Daniel & Clay Mann (pencils) Sandu Florea & Seth Mann (inks) Dinei Ribeiro (colours) Rob Leigh (letters). We find out why the bad guy Prophesy is draining powers from all the Supermen and women in the conclusion of "Multiplicity". He needs all that power to save his universe from doom. I really hope they don't bring Doomsday back. So now that the Multiverse has been saved again let's see what the next threat is.

Hawkeye #3 - Kelly Thompson (writer) Leonardo Romero (art) Jordie Bellaire (colours) VC's Joe Sabino (letters). I loved the TV show Veronica Mars and this comic book reminds me of that show. I think it's how Kelly uses Kate to narrate what's going on. This is fun light reading with just a hint of menace.

Moon Knight #11 - Jeff Lemire (writer) Greg Smallwood (art) Jordie Bellaire (colours) VC's Cory Petit (letters). Okay, part 2 of "Death and Birth" has a lot of jumping around that seems confusing at first but I'm sure it'll all make sense eventually. We are getting a lot of insights into Marc's alternate identities so I am going to trust in Jeff and keep reading.

Champions #5 - Mark Waid (writer) Humberto Ramos (pencils) Victor Olazaba (inks) Edgar Delgado (colours) VC's Clayton Cowles (letters). The teen team tackles racism. I'm glad this didn't just deteriorate into the kids beating up skinheads and white supremacists. They tried hard to do the right thing. Does Mark write Gwenpool too? I would read that book if he did based on her appearance in this issue. I just might check out her own book now.

Monsters Unleashed #2 - Cullen Bunn (writer) Greg Land (pencils) Jay Leisten (inks) David Curiel (colours) VC's Travis Lanham (letters). It's wall to wall super heroes fighting giant monsters from space. Meanwhile, Elsa Bloodstone thinks she has found who is causing all this destruction and Moon Girl thinks she knows why. I think Marvel is using this stunt as a way to undo all the animosity created by Civil War II and Inhumans vs. X-Men.

Nova #3 - Jeff Loveness & Ramon Perez (writers) Ramon Perez (art) Ian Herring (colours) Comicraft's Albert Deschesne (letters). Hold onto your helmets folks this one's pretty intense.

Unstoppable Wasp #2 - Jeremy Whitley (writer) Elsa Charretier (art) Megan Wilson (colours) VC's Joe Caramagna (letters). I like Nadia and this is a good way to find out more about the other female heroes in the Marvel U that I don't follow. Taina Miranda is totally new to me and I don't read Devil Dinosaur and Moon Girl's comic book. Plus, I think the art is really good.

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