#common sect L | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cheolism · 24 days ago

Text

DEVOTION

✰ — choi san x gang leader!f!reader ✷ — summary: after a year of fighting in a rebellion, san was tired of battle. like an angel, a goddess, you offered him peace. ✰ — wc is approx. 12k ✷ — genre: nsfw, first meetings, mafia/gang society, simp!san, themes of worship, cultish if you squint, toxicity but san likes it ✰ — warnings: morally grey themes between both reader and san. violence, blood, and murder alongside other mature scenes, including those sexual in nature. in particular: literally licking someone else’s wounds, finger sucking, gagging, and oral sex. there is a heavy power imbalance with reader being the superior, but san is explicitly into this. he has a praise, humiliation, and devotion kink. non-sexual feet washing as a worshipping act. reader has pussy hair and is hinted to be a virgin, but not established. ✷ — rating: 18+. pay attention to the warnings. ✰ — note: the reader in this fic is the leader of a gang, or a “sect” that inhabits a city and she is referred to as “the empress”. at one point san will lick blood off of the reader. i will put the beginning and ending of this sequence in bold so those who are disturbed can skip. thank you to ally @lovetaroandtaemin for beta reading and offering words of enthusiasm to this fic!! i really appreciaste it <3

p r o l o g u e .

the city held its breath when you fall ill. it's a fleeting illness, your aunt, who was left regent in the wake of your illness, announced. the empress will return to her duties as quickly as possible.

and then nothing happened for six months.

rumors spread. you'd died and your death was kept a secret to prevent rival sects from trying to steal territory; you'd been kidnapped for ransom and the "sickness" is a smokescreen. some spoke of treachery, but that's quickly hushed up. for who would dare betray the empress, the sweet little lamb of a girl who crowns her citizens with flowers?

then your aunt was found dead in a pool. seemingly too suspicious to be a coincidence, you began to get better.

the city let out a relieved breath.

you began to appear in public once more. the city basked in your attention. all seemed to thrive. you kept the city secure under your watch, each entrance and exit under firm surveillance, guards on the corners of streets with guns at their hips, politicians carrying suitcases of powder, corrupt men and women entering your penthouse and never seen leaving.

"it's wrong," said choi bada to his brother. "she'll run our sect to the ground."

and once again the city held its breath as choi bada took a single, nearly-perfect shot at you, missing by a mere breath.

war had begun.

choi san had no choice but to stand beside his brother. surely choi bada was right; he wouldn't steer san in the wrong direction. he wouldn't do the wrong thing.

public buildings were desecrated with bullets and blood. san got used to the feeling of fighting, of bruised muscles and blood staining his clothes. he was commanded to destroy a temple you had dedicated to the gods, offerings of the common and rich alike littering the white granite steps. and so he got used to the feeling of wrongness, of feeling as if he was walking a dark and dangerous path of sin.

then choi bada was killed.

the empress, it was relayed to san as he was chained to a wall, was giving him a choice: die beside his treacherous brother or fight in the empress's arena for her forgiveness.

in the end the choice was easy. after all, san had been fighting for the past year of his life. what was one last battle?

san would forever remember the face of the final body. his opponent’s face was a violent mixture of red and purple, blood staining his mouth and teeth. he was ugly from the brutality of the world, another testament to the harshness of the world.

the crowd roared with approval. they were thirsty; fervent.

it was deafening. the screams and shouts of the crowd nearly drowned out the thundering of blood in san’s ear, his adrenaline shooting through his body like waves crashing down against rock. he couldn’t think. he couldn’t do anything other than stand there in the arena, looking at the bodies littering the sand.

“our winner!” declared a voice, loud and booming even without a microphone. the overseer moved into the arena, his clothes a bright, clean stain against the bloodied sand. he effortlessly wove around bodies to get to san. “our champion!”

the overseer grabbed san’s forearm. the other man’s hand was spotless against san’s skin, which had dirt and sand and sweat molded to flesh. san protested for a moment, instinctively pulling away.

he had been fighting for as long as he could remember. touch meant hurt, and he had long stopped expecting otherwise.

the overseer laughed at san, lips twisted thin and wide. he grabbed at san again. “keep easy, pup,” he hissed out. “you’ve won the fight. congratulations. but you won’t win the battle if you keep trying to bite.”

san wanted to punch this man. he remembered how the overseer had introduced him, the snake in wolf’s skin, the brother of the traitorous subordinate to the empress. he remembered the overseer glancing over him, loudly announcing that he’d do.

san was just another pawn for entertainment to the overseer; to the crowd. he was just another puppy expected to sit and lay and play dumb.

he’d been fighting for so long. who would fault him if he were to swing around and throw a punch into the overseer’s face? who’d disapprove if he were to slam the man into the ground, if he were to fucking drive his knee into his stomach?

san made to draw back. he cast a wild look around, searching for something. instead of aid, his eyes caught on the large screen. for a split second he saw himself, feral and filled with hatred. then the screen switched, showing the empress.

the empress’s lips were split in a smile, showing off the white of her teeth. she had her chin resting on her hand, watching; watching san.

“our champion!” the overseer yelled out once more. “the winner of our empress’s victory! choi san!”

the crowd’s praise grew to a frantic roar, rabid with their adoration. he couldn’t see them, the lights of the arena bright. they loved this, san knew; loved blood, loved fighting. it was a performance to them. it didn’t matter who was in the arena; they were all dispensable.

who mattered was who walked out.

“to the empress,” said the overseer, moving his hand to clap san’s shoulder. his nails dug into san’s flesh. “she was most impressed by your little performance.”

san let the overseer direct him from the arena. the crowd was alight with awe, despite knowing san. well: despite knowing san’s brother. despite knowing that for the past year san had fought alongside his brother, war replacing the blood in his veins, soft words replaced by venom.

none of that mattered anymore. none of it mattered now that san had won, had survived a fight against forty-nine others. he was blessed, the crowd saw now; blessed by the gods and to be blessed by the empress.

he had punched and murdered and shot relentlessly in the name of his brother for the past year. and as the overseer bid the guard to open the gate separating the sands of the arena from the crowd, san realized he wouldn’t be expected to fight anymore.

because that was why he had been fighting, wasn’t it?

he was bound by blood to fight alongside his brother. even as he realized it was wrong – fighting for the sake of it, fighting for the sake of power was wrong – he had to stand beside his brother.

and now he was stepping from the arena, stepping from the sands of war and leaving behind bodies he had injured with his own hands. he realized he could leave it all behind. he walked in a prisoner, was walking out a winner. he won the empress’s crown; would wear the flowers of victory.

it didn’t matter who was in the arena.

who mattered was who walked out.

his brother was no longer his ruler.

now it was –

“the empress,” the overseer began, speaking loudly into san’s ears as to be heard over the crowd. people reached out to press their fingers against san. he didn’t know why. he had been bathed before the arena, but it didn’t matter. he was covered in sweat and grime. he was bruised and scratched.

someone pressed their fingers against san’s bicep. he flinched back, inadvertently pushing back into the overseer. the other man gripped san tight. “when you see the empress, you won’t look the empress in the eye. kneel at the empress’s feet. both knees, hands on the ground, forehead between. the empress will say your name. you will announce your wrongdoings and beg for forgiveness. if she forgives, you will earn the empress’s victory. don’t look at her. don’t say anything beyond what i have instructed you.”

the overseer directed san up the stands. there were all kinds of people: some wore tattered clothes; some suits, hair greased back; some industry uniforms. they were all youthful and vibrant beneath the arena lights.

the empress and the empress’s court, as it were, were separated from the rest. the empress’s balcony overlooked the entire arena. only the elite within the gang – sect, san remembered, within the sect – were allowed to sit this far up, this near the empress.

and it showed. they wore polished suits and glittering jewels. the holsters of guns were bedazzled and glimmering. instead of cans of beer, they held crystal glasses. these were the ones the empress trusted most – no, san corrected again. the empress doesn’t trust anyone. these are the ones that have gained, in one way or another, the empress’s approval.

murderers and sellers; crooks and robbers.

san was directed up a short staircase. he stepped foot onto the platform. the metal was covered in soft, lush rugs. incense was lit, overtaking the dusty air of the arena with a fragrant scent. it was purified; they were purifying the space.

san’s eyes flitted over the rising smoke from the incense, and then he caught sight of the empress.

caught sight of you.

“eyes,” the overseer warned.

san fixed his eyes onto the ground. the overseer guided him with a hand on the shoulder, steering him towards the center of the podium where you sat. once the overseer adjusted san so his shoulders were square with you, presumably, he dug his hand down onto san. san went, obediently, to his knees.

his knees, bruised and raw from fighting, hit the soft carpet. san placed the palms of his hands down against the rug, his knuckles violently red from all the punching he had done, already swelling – and he placed his forehead down against the carpet.

something settled the crowd, silence taking over and reigning.

a voice broke through. “choi san,” you said, “younger brother to our dearest choi bada, of the formerly respected choi clan.”

your court tittered with laughter at the reminder of how far he had fallen.

“no worry.” your voice neared. you had risen from your chair – your throne. “the man you were when you walked into the arena is no more. now you are before me, clean from your sins if you so wish to be.

“tell me: choi bada spoke of treachery and murder, of annihilation of our precious sect; do you concur with your brother’s disastrous agenda?”

san spoke to the ground, but, he found, he was speaking from the heart. “no.”

two letters, one syllable.

that’s all it took to renounce his brother, to turn his back on his brother’s corpse.

“no,” you echoed. “yet you had fought alongside him. you had killed and burned alongside him. were you not his most trusted?”

san scraped his nails against the rug. “i was.”

you hummed. san thought he recognized the tune, but then it was gone just as he was able to reach out and catch the thread of it. “you could have chosen loyalty to this true emperor, as he proclaimed himself. my guard would have killed you alongside choi bada. and yet you entered my arena, fought, and won. you entered to leave your old life behind, yes? you entered to renounce your clan.”

“yes.”

“and so you will,” you said. “rise, choi san, and know that no hatred, no ill-will, will be held to you.”

slowly, as if you were a predator, a lion, and he were the prey, a mouse, san moved. he lifted himself from the bow. he did not stand. he remained kneeling, palms placed on the torn fabric stretching over his knees. san kept his face towards the ground.

“let me see you.”

san thought back to the overseer and his warning: don’t look. he wasn’t to look at you. yet you were asking, were telling him to look.

so san looked.

and looked.

maybe it was because for the past few years of his life he had been fighting. ever since his brother had declared himself the new emperor, had spurred a rebellion in the name of progression, of tradition, san had been fighting. perhaps he had been fighting since he was born, constantly trying to remain in the good graces of a temperamental, powerful older brother.

regardless: san had been fighting for far too long, and he was tired.

before he’d thrown the final punch; before the man with the bright smile tried to stab a knife into san’s thigh; before san had stepped foot into the arena, before his name had been announced to the masses; before his wrists and ankles were put in chains; before his brother announced his surrender, fuck, before he even announced his rebellion, san was tired of fighting.

he wanted to fucking stop.

‘if she forgives, you will earn the empress’s victory.’

and now you were before him, brilliant and beautiful and blinding, offering an end.

you were confession and absolution. you were thunder clouds parting to reveal soft, ever-blue skies. you were serenity and stability. you were peace, an end to a life of war.

you were beautiful.

san drank you in greedily. he took in the shape of your nose, the curve of your lips; the fall of your hair, the way you were dressed plainly in white and clean of any jewelry despite the extravagance of the elite around you.

your eyes widened as san didn’t look away from your gaze. the overseer hissed behind him. neither of you paid him any mind. instead san watched as a small, pleased smile teased at your lips.

you stepped down from your throne. everyone seemed to hold their breath as you descended. san knew without looking this was being projected onto the screen.

your feet were bare. san remembered you were not to step on unclean earth, were not to be touched by unclean hands; not to hear unclean words. your attendants, san had heard, were cleaned before aiding you. their nails, even, were cleaned meticulously. only the pure could touch you.

“choi san,” you hummed again. you had a twinkle in your eyes. a more ignorant man would claim it to be innocence. san knew better. you were analyzing him. “your brother named you one of his most trusted, bid you to aid him in rebelling against our sect.”

“he did.”

you waved your hand. an attendant stepped forward. he held a golden platter. upon it rested a circlet of flowers. san didn’t know flowers, but even the most ignorant concerning flowers would be able to recognize the small, white blossoms as wax flowers. as your flowers, as the empress’s victory.

your blessing symbolized. only those worthy could wear it, show off the empress’s favor. it was a sign of their devotion to you; of your protection to them. to gain it was magnificent; to be stripped of it, deadly.

“and you rejected choi bada.”

san furrowed his brows. he should lie; should say he rejected his brother, claim he felt it was the wrong thing to do from the beginning. he should claim his allegiance was only ever to you, his empress.

but san couldn’t lie. not to himself; to you.

“not at first.” the elite on the podium gasped. you shot the crowd a silencing look. san only carried on once your eyes were upon him once more. “he was my older brother. i thought he could do no wrong. it was – was my duty, my pleasure to be with him.”

you moved towards him, hands going to the crown of flowers. “until?”

“the temple,” san said, hesitating. “it – it was wrong. he was wrong. it was evil. cruel. horrible.”

you smiled down at him, the crown of flowers resting delicately on your fingers. “your heart is golden, young wolf.”

san shook his head. “if it was then i would’ve known from the beginning.”

“the plots of those closest to us,” you began, “are often concealed. we do not regard our precious ones with clear eyes, choi san.”

you were talking about your aunt. the one who had poisoned you for five years to weaken you, had used your illness to try and spread her territory and harvest your riches. who had exploited your youth, your naive innocence and trust and turned around and hurt you.

perhaps you and san were alike. you both had been betrayed by those closest.

san considered you. the line of your proud shoulders, the stability of your hands. you were the heavens revealed after a storm. you were his empress; his goddess.

“no,” he said gently. “i should have known better. the gods have honored and blessed you as our empress. i should not have presumed any man to know better than the gods. i should have known better than to listen to my brother’s lies.”

“lies,” you repeated back. “i suppose he spoke of my imperfections. in some regard, he would not be wrong. i am mortal.”

san frowned. he lowered himself again. slowly san crawled forward, his bruise knuckles and bloodied forearms – not his blood, of course – stark against the soft white of the rug. he reached, with dirtied fingertips, for the hem of your long, white dress. he lifted it, and, like a devotee to a goddess, lowered his head and press his lips to your feet.

he withdrew.

“you are perfect,” he said. “any imperfections, spoken or thought, are lies. you are my empress. i would give myself to you for an eternity. i will give myself to you for an eternity.”

your face, for a split moment, was horribly vulnerable. he saw you not as an empress, as a queen of a city of sin, but as a woman.

then, just as quickly, your face turned back into stone.

“you would give yourself,” you said, “to me.”

“every part of me is yours,” san earnestly said. “body and soul.”

you glanced over him, eyes taking him in. san wondered what you saw. he wondered if you just saw the superficial part of him, what only appeared on the surface. if you saw the sharp cut of his eyes, the line of his jaw; the broad square of his shoulders and the bruises and scrapes that littered his skin. or if you saw beneath that.

what lay beneath the surface of him, san did not know. he didn’t know if it was anything special – if he was anything special. he had killed and sinned just as any other person in the arena; had been taken as a prisoner. he was just as dirtied as everyone else.

everyone but you.

your shoulders relaxed back and you grew to your full height, an empress once more. you stepped to san, lifting the crown of wax flowers up for all to see. “the redeemed brother of choi bada,” you announced, “who prostrates himself before our gods and our great empire. this empress, low and humble before our heavenly fathers and mothers, accepts choi san into our empire with open arms.

“let choi san spend the rest of his life in reparation to our empire. let him serve our great city in body and soul. let him prove himself devoted, and let us say no more of his past.”

and then you were placing the flower crown upon his head.

the crowd roared with approval.

you glided your fingers along his hair. he wanted to stop you. he knew his hair was greasy from sweat, knew his skin was dirty. he wasn’t clean. and yet you traced the side of his face with the pads of your fingers, let your nails skim along the line of his jaw.

it was too much. it was too much. san couldn’t remember the last time someone touched him and he didn’t expect pain. here you were caressing him as if a lover, as if he were precious. it was too much.

you brought your hands back to your body. you raised one up, palm out, for silence. the crowd quieted, reverent before their empress.

when you spoke, your voice was stern with authority. “let it be shown our gods and empire is just. let it be known that our empire will not turn its back on those who repent. let it be known that i will not punish those who offer themselves wholly, who renounce their sins before me.”

your hands framed his jaw. you tilted san’s face up, and then you were pressing your lips to his forehead.

san felt his entire body go numb. he couldn’t think; couldn’t breathe.

the crowd screamed fervently. you continued to speak, though san wondered if anyone was able to hear your words.

“let it be known i will not turn my back on those who need me.”

and like a flower with the sun, san so desperately needed you.

you stepped back. your face had grime around your mouth from where you had kissed san’s dirty forehead. a attendant stepped forward with a white cloth, but you waved them aside, letting the dirt remain.

“bring him to my bath,” you ordered, gesturing towards san. you looked towards him, brows raised. “you will serve me, body and soul, yes?”

san nodded.

you smiled. it was a small turn of the lip, but san felt it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

san couldn’t help but feel horribly out of place in your penthouse.

it was the sort of place that he never would have stumbled into ordinarily. windows took up the entire wall, clean and giving him a view of the artificial glow of the city underneath the moon. the furniture and carpets were all white and spotless, the floor a mute beige that warmed the space.

everything was all clean. there were no personal touches within the penthouse from what san could see as he was guided from the overly large living space to the master bathroom. everything was meticulously placed, offered no insight as to whom the owner of the penthouse – the entire building, really – was.

there were flowers throughout the penthouse, san noted. they were the only source of life within, the only sign of color. geraniums and roses, lilies and petunias. they were spaced out as to not overwhelm and truly were the only things within the space that betrayed the character of the owner.

the attendant slid open the door to the master bathroom. immediately san was hit with the gentle scent of vanilla and flowers, though he couldn’t place what particular sort of flower he was smelling. the bathroom’s size was in proportion to the rest of the apartment, meaning it was still considerably bigger than any bathroom san had stepped into before.

the bath was already running, though san was tempted to call it a pool. it was longer and wider than any man or woman could possibly be, settled into the ground with shining white marble framing it. the bath only touched one wall, artificial stone breaking up the smooth texture of the rest of the room.

the attendant moved about the bathroom, leaving san by the door. she turned off the faucet of the tub. “don’t worry about the water, there’s a heater in the tub.”

she went to the lights. the bright overhead lights dimmed; the wall scones lit up, giving the bathroom a dark, moody feel.

“usually you should be scrubbed clean,” the attendant said, wrinkling her nose as she took san in. “obviously you haven’t bathed in days. but the empress insisted on leaving you as you are.”

the attendant went to the marble counter. she pressed on something, and then a cabinet door was opening. san wouldn’t have been able to guess anything was there at all, as there were no handles and he couldn’t see the frame of the door.

she withdrew from the cabinet with white towels. “the empress will direct you on how to attend her. do not presume familiarity; do not mistake her kindness for permission. it’s hard to get blood out of stone.”

san’s eyes snapped to the white stone wall framing one side of the bath. it had been unassuming before, just another pretty feature; now it seemed to stand before him ominously, a stark warning.

“you mean –” he broke off, brow furrowing. “the empress –?”

“our dear lady is not a sweet little lamb,” the attendant said, pride the undercurrent to her tone. she placed the towels on the white counter. she bumbled around, pulling things from drawers san hadn’t noticed. the attendant reached out for a vase of flowers, sweet little things with white petals and yellow centers.

“the biggest mistake one can make is to presume her submissive in any respect,” the attendant advised him. “never presume to know more than her. never think, for a single second, that you aren’t eating out of the palm of her hand.”

san shifted back. you had been – well, not unassuming. but he hadn’t – didn’t – this picture the attendant was illustrating of you seemed so stark in comparison to the woman who had grabbed his face and kissed it so gently. he couldn’t imagine you like this. san couldn’t imagine you being a master manipulator, couldn’t imagine you having some secret agenda. he couldn’t imagine you, so benevolent and beautiful, being a snake wrapped in lamb’s wool.

the attendant hummed, content with the flowers. she turned to san. she looked him up and down. “if you have some sort of secret agenda –”

“i don’t!” the words were forceful and sure as they escaped san’s lips. he frowned at the attendant, standing straight and staring down at her. he crossed his arms over his chest, feeling the muscles of his arms clench from how rigidly he was holding himself. “i swore my body and soul to the empress. any person who dares to say otherwise is wrong.”

the attendant inclined her head. “so you say.”

and then you were walking into the bathroom.

san felt his breath leave him all at once. even in the dim artificial lighting you were perfect. you were bare of any accessories, simply clothed in a white dress with your feet gently slapping against the floor. yet you were more beautiful than any gaudily clad creature san had ever seen.

you said something to the attendant. san didn’t hear. he was too busy taking you in: the soft lines of your arms, the precious curves of your mouth. the way the very air around you seemed to sweeten with your presence, bending to your purity.

the attendant left, and then you were raising your arm up to finger at your earrings.

and san saw red.

literally.

your forearm was painted a vibrant red, blood gently pulsing from a single cut.

san was at your side in a second, his hands reaching out for your arm. he grabbed you, his hands cradling your forearm as he frowned down at the injury.

“what happened –”

but san was cut off by your hand pressing into the tender meat of his neck. your thumb pinched mercilessly, making san shutter and his grip on your arm weaken.

“down,” you hissed, sharp and severe.

obediently san dropped to his knees, hands at your hips. ignoring your own injury you grabbed his hands, forcing them away.

“don’t touch me,” you snapped, your injured arm darting out. you gripped his hair in your hand, nails digging into his scalp. you wrenched his face back, exposing the line of his throat and making him gasp into the humid air of the bath. “never, ever touch me without permission. you understand me?”

“you’re hurt,” san gasped out, eyebrows high on his face as he pressed his head back into your hand. it hurt, your grip on his hair harsh. yet he didn’t want to move away, didn’t want to move from the pain you were delivering onto him. “you’re hurt, empress.”

he watched through squinted eyes as your jaw, which had been jutted out in anger, softened. the corners of your mouth sagged from where your lips had been twisted from fury.

your grip on his hair loosened. you clicked your tongue, stepping close.

gone was all anger from your being. instead you moved close, your hand cradling san’s cheek. blood dripped from your wound, down onto his pants and the marble floor.

you hummed down at him, thumb gently swiping along the sharp cut of his cheekbone. “i apologize,” you whispered, voice sweet. “forgive me. when a person rushes towards me i cannot help but react.”

san felt his heart clench at hearing you say such a thing. if it was up to him, you’d never feel fear again. never feel as if you were in danger, never feel anxiety or terror. you’d be safe; safe for ever and ever. he’d make you safe. he’d make the world safe for you.

“i should have known,” he said in apology.

you smiled, then. you laughed softly. your fingers went to his black hair, pulling slightly as to expose his face to you further. “sweet boy,” you said.

san turned his face towards your palm. you let him. he let his eyes flutter shut, nose tucking into the curve of your hand. he felt treasured like this; precious.

“next time you greet me,” you said, voice light, “remain still until you are acknowledged. understand?”

“yes, dear empress.”

you grinned down at him. “my sweet boy,” you cooed again.

yes.

yours.

“you are hurt,” san said. he blinked up at you, mouth pushed into a soft pout. “what happened?”

“nothing of consequence,” you returned. “i only worry about it staining your clothes.”

san frowned. you were hurt, and it wasn’t anything important?

“you could help me clean it,” you said, hesitant.

san looked up at you. you were so beautiful and kind. you were a powerful woman, far above any else in superiority and worth. and yet you were allowing him to help you when you were in pain, when you were in need of aid.

you, so innocent and – and holy, to be touched only by the pure, were letting san touch you. not only that, you would letting him clean you.

“come on, pup,” you instructed, “clean me.”

slowly, as to not startle you again, san grabbed your arm in his hand. he moved your hand from his face, immediately missing it. but you had given him a task, and san would be deplorable if he were to hesitate in acting on it.

when san touched his tongue to your blood, he found, to his astonishment, it tasted perfectly normal, as anyone’s blood would. it was tangy, tasted like rust. it wasn’t horrible, san found. it wasn’t revolutionary, of course; he wouldn’t go around drinking other’s blood. but it was, well, your blood, a symbol of your humanity, and you were letting him lick at it.

you hummed softly, stepping close. you slid your free hand into his hair, petting softly. there was little space between the two of you. and san loved it. he couldn’t help but smile gently into your skin. san pressed a soft kiss to your arm, ignoring how he only seemed to further spread your blood.

“so messy,” you said, and san peeked up at you. you were smiling down at him, and san swore he could see your eyes sparkle. “such a messy eater, choi san.”

he pressed another kiss to your skin. san alternated between kissing your arm and licking at your wound, his mouth overwhelmed by the tangy taste of your blood. he endured it, though. he couldn’t help himself. he felt, weirdly, as if he was drunk.

it was almost as if this was some sort of drug; as if worshiping you were addictive. san was kneeling before you, blood smeared over his mouth, and he didn’t want to stand. he didn’t want to erase that gentle smile from your face. if that meant kneeling before you and licking your wounds, then –

well.

he’d done worse things for more horrible people.

eventually you pulled san away. your wound had long stopped bleeding. your arm wasn’t entirely clean, thin smears of bright crimson a blight against your skin.

you cupped his face with both hands. you looked over him. san wondered what you saw.

you pressed your fingers to the corner of his mouth, lightly following a path he was blind to. “you’re so messy,” you said again. “covered in blood and dirt.”

your fingers wandered over his face. san’s eyes fluttered. you followed the curve of his nose, the sharp jutting lines of his cheeks.

“you are to attend me in the bath,” you said, voice a sweet song. “and yet you are covered in filth. you will wash before you serve me.”

then you stepped away.

you went to the hidden cabinet the attendant had gone to earlier. you opened it, removing a white towel.

“kneel in the shower,” you commanded.

the shower was tall and large. the showerhead was large and like a saucer, and when you turned it on the water was like a trickle of rain.

san went and kneeled in the shower underneath the water.

“your clothes,” you said, tossing the white towel onto an ottoman beside the shower. “take your clothes off.”

san felt himself flush. you hadn’t said for him to take off of his clothes, and so he hadn’t thought of it. he felt sheepish; stupid.

you didn’t make fun of him, though. you held out your hand. san stood, beginning to take off his clothes. you kept your eyes on him as he did so. first came his tank top. it was white originally, though the arena had dirtied it considerably with sand and other grime, and tight against him. once it was off he handed it to you. you took the shirt from him, letting it hang from your fingertips, continuing to let your eyes smooth over his abdomen and chest.

next, his shoes and socks. he kicked those out of the shower.

he only hesitated when his thumbs were hooking into the waistband of his underwear.

you laughed at him, dropping his pants and shirt to the side. “don’t be shy now,” you teased. “are you not going to attend me? will you not wash my body with your hands? be naked and let us be on equal ground.”

and so he pushed his underwear down. he fought to get it over the swells of his thighs, but then they were quickly falling to his knees and onto the floor.

you stared at him openly.

san’s dick – regrettably – was at half mast. he felt as if he had been hard ever since you made him kneel in front of the arena crowd. and with you staring he felt a small sense of shame, but still his cock continued to harden, blood thickening it and letting it take on a darker hue.

“cute,” you laughed again. “now on your knees.”

san returned to his knees. you stepped into the shower. you were still wearing your white dress, and you were ignoring the shower water as it rained down on you.

slowly, leisurely, you reached for a bottle of soup. you squeezed out a small white liquid to your hand, and then you were stepping close.

you were perhaps half a foot away. you were close enough to where all san had to do was lean his head forward to press his face into your stomach if he wanted to.

your free hand went to his chin. you tipped his face up. you cupped water in your hand and then began washing his face. after a handful of seconds you were lathering his face in some sort of face wash, fingers gentle as you scrubbed.

“you’re getting all wet,” san mumbled, opening an eye to peer up at you.

you raised your brows at him. you rinsed off your hands, and then you were cleansing his face of the soap. “i’m bathing you,” you said simply. “why would i take off my clothes?”

san thought it was odd for a fleeting moment that you weren’t undressing despite the fact your dress was absolutely soaked, but then you were running your fingers through his hair.

“you will have to keep yourself clean,” you instructed him. “especially if you are to attend me.”

“attend you?”

you scoffed. “did you not devote yourself to me, ‘body and soul’? regretting your words already, choi san?”

he hurriedly shook his head. you left him for a moment to reach for a bar of soap.

“if you’re going to attend to me, ‘body and soul,’” you began, sliding the soap along his shoulders, “you will need to keep clean. you cannot touch me if you are dirty.”

you stilled. you tapped his chin with a finger. san looked up. your face was serious, your eyes sharp and mouth firm. “you are devoting yourself, yes?”

“until i die, empress.”

you relaxed, visibly pleased at san’s eagerness. “you will be mine. you are mine, then, choi san.”

“yours.”

you returned to cleaning him. he tried not to look at you too much. the white dress stuck to your skin as if it were your skin. san could see the curve of your breasts – tits felt too crude of a word to use for you – and the soft imprint of your nipples.

“if you do well enough when you bathe me, you can be my bath attendant,” you declared. you stepped back. “stand.”

“bath attendant?” san stumbled to his feet, legs slightly numb from having been kneeling for so long. he’ll have to get used to it. he liked being on his knees for you.

“‘body and soul,’” you reminded. “don’t you want to bathe me?”

san nodded. “so badly,” he said.

and he meant it. he thought about bathing you, his hands gently massaging soap into your hair. he’d wash whatever part you wanted. he’d take care to wash behind your ears and neck, to lightly rub soap over your breasts if your nipples were particularly sensitive. he’d even wash your pussy if you’d let him.

san felt blood rush down to his dick at the thought. it was horribly, disastrously crude of him to think such a thing. he should be ashamed.

you rubbed the bar of soap over him. your hand followed, sliding along his skin and smoothing the suds. your hands were sure as you slid them along his abdomen, thumb swiping over his muscled stomach.

“so strong,” you said. “it would be a shame not to have you as a member of my personal guard.”

“‘body and soul.’”

you laughed at him, reaching up and pinching at one of his brown nipples. he hissed, dick throbbing as he reached up and cupped his own tits to protect them. “you are awfully devoted,” you teased. “it is a good thing you stumbled into my arena instead of someone else’s, choi san.”

“i wouldn’t be like this to anyone else,” san announced. his eyes flicked over your face. your hair was stuck along your forehead, and he could see that you had on mascara, the black liquid running over your cheeks.

rise, choi san, and know that no hatred, no ill-will, will be held to you.

you had crowned him with the empress’s victory. you had promised him absolution of his sins. you were merciful. you were beautiful.

“you wouldn’t have to be in my guard,” you murmured, moving around him. you went to his back. he felt acutely aware of you. the soap traveling over his skin, your hand smoothing over the muscles of his back. “you fought for one tyrant already. i will not be another.”

san let out a sharp breath.

he turned. he looked down at you.

“i’d do anything for you.”

for a moment you just stared at him, your hands stilling over his abdomen. the shower beat down on his back, water sliding along his body.

“so much power for one woman to have,” you murmured. “turn back around.”

you continued to bathe him. your hands slid over his body. when your hands went to his dick, san couldn’t help but tense. you ran your fingers along the veins of his hips, letting them lead to the base of his cock. his cock was fully erect. you paid his tumultuous state no mind. you slid your hands along his dick methodically, touch sure and firm.

san sucked in a deep breath, his hands going to your shoulders, searching for something to tether him.

“hands off of me,” you ordered. your hand could just barely wrap around his dick. you slid your fist from the base of his cock to the tip, wrist twisting.

san let out a groan, and he tried to ignore how high his voice went at the end of it. your hand continued to his balls, fondling lightly as you gave a perfunctory wash there, too.

you released his dick. it flopped up to his stomach, and he couldn’t help but wince at the urgent need that shot through him, his cock throbbing. san wanted your hand wrapped around his dick again, wanted it so badly.

“finish up,” you commanded. you stepped from the shower, dropping the bar of soap onto the ground, not bothering to hand it to him.

san turned and bent over to grab the soap. when he straightened, he turned back to face towards where you had left him. you had one shoulder of your dress down around your elbow, your hands reaching up for the other as you watched san.

he got, delightfully, the feeling as if you had been studying him while his back was turned. san felt, stupidly, as if he were a little mouse and you were the mighty lion. as if he was running frantically between your paws, searching for a way out as you continually shifted your paws, not giving him a way out.

well –

san didn’t want a way out.

if you wanted to play with him like cat and mouse, san would let you. you saved him. from what, san didn’t know, though he did know whatever his fate would have been had you neglected to acknowledge his victory would have been far worse than this; worse than standing naked in the bathroom of your penthouse, erection strained and wanting.

you saved him; you wouldn’t hurt him.

you gave him the empress’s victory. you would protect him.

further: you asked him to bathe you, to guard you.

you wanted him at your side.

when san finished washing, all the dirt and grime of his old life swirling down the shower drain, he turned off the water.

you had completely undressed, and were standing by the sunken tub. your dress and undergarments were scattered. san couldn’t help but let his eyes rove over you. he looked at the curve of your thighs and where the meat of them mellowed to bleed into your knees. san stared at the hair of your cunt, at the soft skin of your stomach; the hang of your tits and your nipples, hard due to them being exposed to the room.

his dick ached.

“get into the tub,” you ordered.

the tub, san found, varies in depth. the steps were cold white marble, and when his foot was submerged beneath the water, it was extremely warm. the water was the sort of warm that would lure its occupants to sleep.

when he crossed the tub, as the stairs were on one side and you the other, the level of the tub floor began to steepen. near the stairs, once he was off of them, the water only went to the middle of his thighs. as he neared you, the water began to slowly rise until it lapped against his lower hips, warm around the base of his cock.

you had lowered yourself to sit on the edge of the tub when he climbed in. your legs were hanging over the edge, knees parted just enough for him to stand between them.

you were grinning, the white of your teeth striking against the plush color of your lips.

“what a predicament you have there,” you murmured, eyes flicking down to san’s dick.

he felt blood rush to his face as you gazed unabashedly at his cock. “i –”

“clean my feet,” you interrupted. you leaned back on your hands, not concealing your body in the slightest. san looked over your stretchmarks, over the pebbling of your nipples. he wondered, fleetingly, if you’d let him lick them.

“your feet?”

“you said you would clean me,” you said. “go grab the soap.”

the soap, as it turned out, was on the other side of the tub. slowly san waded through the water, pushing against it. he grabbed the soaps, all flower-scented and bottled, and turned back to you.

“shame,” you said. “i quite liked the other view of you.”

blood shot to his face again. san was sure his cheeks and ears were vibrantly red.

“this view is not so bad either,” you amended.

he knew you were talking about his abs and his dick, just as he knew you had been talking about his ass with the prior comment. san was being treated as if he were some piece for you to ogle at, and fuck, if that didn’t make his dick absolutely throb.

you spread out your knees, letting san press close. he set the bottles beside you, and then he couldn’t help but let his hands hover over your hips.

“you want to touch me?”

san looked up to you. your head was tilted slightly, and you were looking down your nose at him. he traced the curve of your jaw with his eyes, the line of your throat. he wanted to touch every inch of you. he wanted to devour you.

“yes,” he said, voice hushed and yearning.

you smiled, baring your teeth at him. you raised your leg, and then you were pressing your foot flat against his stomach.

“clean me.”

and so san began to wash your feet.

he cupped the water in his hand, bringing it up and letting the water escape his hand to trinkle over your foot. san ran his hand over your foot. despite the fact that you walked barefoot, as to represent your divinity, the underside of your foot was nearly clean.

even as san finished cleaning one foot and shifted to the next, starting by rinsing it off, his erection didn’t flag. he continued to wash your foot, trying to ignore how his cock throbbed in tandem with his heart, how the warm water of the tub lapped over his balls and the base of his dick.

you hummed as san finished washing your second foot, toes flexing in his hold. he smoothed his hand over the gentle incline of your foot, thumb swiping over your ankle.

san looked down at your skin. your foot was drenched, your leg dry. he ran his fingers over your skin, letting the pads of his fingers drag along your flesh. san

“could i –” san broke off, looking up at you. you raised your brows at him, waiting. “can i kiss your skin?”

you tilted your head. you flicked your eyes up and down his figure. eventually, slowly, you nodded.

san felt his heart flutter in his chest. he bent over. he pressed the tip of his nose to your leg, feeling the slight bumps along your skin from where your shaven hairs were trying to break through. he let his lips ghost over your skin, torturing himself; appreciating you.

san let his lips trail down your leg, and then he was at your ankle.

slowly, but not hesitantly, he pressed a kiss to the skin there.

you sucked in a breath.

san pulled back slightly, looking up at you. his voice, when he spoke, seemed to come from deep within him. “you okay?”

“i’ve been worshiped before,” you said, in lieu of an answer, “but not quite like this.”

“shall i continue?”

san watched as you visibly shivered before him. his dick throbbed, a slight pearl of precum budding from the tip.

you nodded. san pressed his lips to your ankle once more.

san let his mouth move over your skin. he didn’t bite or lick or anything. he simply explored. his mouth was but a tool used for mapping, learning the rises and curves of your body.

once san found he was satisfied with one leg, he shifted to the other.

san’s mouth went to the crook of your knee. he turned your leg in his hand. he pressed his mouth to the part where your knee and thigh met, his nose pressing into the flesh as he mouthed at your skin.

you let out a gentle sigh. it was slight, hardly there. san only heard it because he was so incredibly tuned into you. he wanted to listen to every hitch in breath, wanted to be able to see every twitch of a finger. san wanted to devote himself to you, and so he heard the slight breath that escaped you, the little exhale, as he kissed your thigh.

his dick, horribly, angrily, throbbed. his balls were tight against him, precum beading and sliding along the head of his dick.

you hummed at him, and then you were lowering your leg. “you’ve a problem.”

“it’s not a problem,” san said. he settled his hand on your knee, wanting to press his mouth back into your skin. “i can ignore it.”

you shook your head. “fuck yourself,” you said, words so horribly dirty compared to the white aura of pureness that clung to your identity like a shroud. “fuck your hand, choi san.”

san took his hand, the one not on you, and moved it to his dick. he didn’t begin fucking, instead intently watching you, as if he were a dog waiting for the command from his master to have the treat.

“i told you what to do,” you said, voice dry. you shifted closer, thighs now dangling over the edge of the tub.

san fisted his cock, immediately shivering into his touch. he felt as if he had been effectively edged for hours. san brought his hand down to the base of his dick, slowly, deliciously, dragging it up to the tip. the water smoothed the stroke, each motion of his hand making san keen into the touch.

“how funny,” you said. san looked at you. you were still, eyes watching his hand as he fucked himself. “such a strong man driven to patheticness by the sight of a pair of tits.”

“no,” he groaned from the back of his throat. san thumbed at his dickhead, not bothering with the slit; being uncut, he was far too sensitive there to bother, the sensations too harsh for him. his foreskin glided with his strokes, concealing and revealing his tip in equal measure.

“it’s you,” he got out eventually. “been – been hard.”

you chuckled at him. “since when? since i made you kneel for me in front of hundreds?”

san was quiet. he stilled his hand at the base of his dick, furtively bucking his hips into his hand, the sensation too little to do anything proper.

“oh it was,” you said, glee gently curving around the edges of your voice. “you’re really into this devotion thing, aren’t you? into worship.”

“never been before.”

you laughed again. you reached out one foot, nudging against his thigh. san let out a choked noise, and then he was fucking his fist down onto his cock.

“you get hard from kneeling to your empress,” you said. “the strong man who killed ten men before my eyes likes being made to bow in reverence. how fucking cute of you, choi san.”

san groaned, this one loud. he began fucking his fist in earnest, the strokes quick. you placed your legs on either side of his thighs, and then you were bringing him close, legs wrapping around him.

“fucking choi bada’s general. likes bowing to the empress that demanded the death of his brother, hm? that it, choi san? just needed me to tell you what to do? you like me telling you what to do, choi san?”

“yes,” he hissed out.

you laughed, loud and harsh. he opened his eyes to watch your chest heave with your laughter. you looked at him, eyes twinkling with mirth.

“then cum,” you commanded.

san’s orgasm ripped from him, balls tight and throbbing as his release tore through him. he couldn’t help but tip his head back, exposing the column of his throat, hand frantic as he worked over his dick.

san didn’t stop fucking his hand until it was bordering on the edge of too much, little shocks of pain shooting through him.

when san opened his eyes, satisfied, it was to the sight of you covered in his cum.

thick and white, the fluid stuck to your skin. his cum was covering your thighs and stomach and tits, not great enough to completely conceal your skin, but still significant.

san felt horrified.

here you were, this pure, divine person in front of him. you wore white, your attendants had to clean themselves before even handing you a glass of water. and here you were: covered in his cum.

“i suppose,” you drew out, “it is a good thing i’ll be bathing.”

you lifted a hand, going to swipe at some of the cum on your stomach.

san darted out, his hand wrapping around your wrist. “don’t,” he said, urgent, “it’s dirty.”

“then you’ll just have to clean it,” you taunted back.

you drew your hand through the cum on your stomach. you pressed your thumb to the fingers stained with san’s spunk. you inspected it, as if you were curious.

then you held out your hand.

“clean me.”

for a moment san was confused. his brow furrowed. he looked between your stained fingers and your face.

you raised your brows. “clean my hand, choi san.” you paused, and then: “it’s the least you could do for touching me like you have.”

san felt himself blush. he reached out, both of his hands wrapping around your wrist. he was acutely aware of the fact that you were watching him, eyes not missing a single movement.

san lifted your hand to his mouth. he hesitated for a moment. he pressed his lips against the tips of your fingers, and then he was moving them into his mouth.

your skin was salty in his mouth, and slightly soapy from having bathed san. san didn’t take your fingers out, though. you had told him to do something, and he was damned if he wasn’t going to do it.

san guided your fingers further into his mouth. his spunk was on the tips of your fingers, and nearly immediately he could taste it. it was bitter and horrible, and san didn’t understand how anyone could swallow it.

knowing you had commanded it, however, and not wanting to let you down, san continued to push your fingers into his mouth. he gagged when your fingers were halfway, the pads of your digits pressing gently against his tongue.

you laughed. “oh cute,” you cooed. “poor little choi san can’t handle two fingers in his mouth, yeah?”

cheeks tinged with red, san fought against his gag reflex to slide your fingers further. he had to stop when he felt the tops of your nails at the far back of his mouth, the feeling of wanting to gag licking at the back of his throat.

“don’t gag,” you said. “i hadn’t told you to take my fingers into your throat, but now that you’ve decided to do so, you will. swallow around my fingers, choi san.”

feeling bullied, but not disliking it, san swallowed around your fingers.

his mouth went tight. he could feel the vacuum of it, the sucking sensation.

“suck my fingers clean.” you shifted before him, your free hand reaching up to brush at your cheek as if you had an inch. “lick them.”

san ran his tongue over your fingers, gathering his cum from them. he swallowed again, only to immediately gag. san pulled away from your hand abruptly, lips pressing firmly together and throat working fervently to try and assure that there was nothing else foreign in his mouth.

you wiped your hand over his shoulder. “how boring,” you said absently.

“i’m sorry,” san apologized. he placed his hands on your knees. you didn’t immediately scold him. “it just felt weird.”

“it just felt weird,” you echoed back. “are you going to make it up to me?”

san nodded, and then he was pressing his face to your tits.

instantly your arms were around him, hands sinking into his hair and nails digging. he hissed, and he heard you say his name, low and dangerous.

but then san ran his tongue along the curve of your tit. he found he loved the first taste of it, the combination of your slightly sweaty skin and his spunk, and so san quickly licked a long stripe over your tit again.

your fingers weakened in his hair, nails scraping lightly. you gripped the ends of his hair, and then you were pressing your nose to his ear.

“you better lick me clean,” you muttered. “i don’t want to dirty the bath water with your spunk.”

san shivered in your hold. he didn’t know if it was from your command or how your voice spat out spunk.

san ran the flat of his tongue over your skin. he licked at your tits as if it were his favorite meal.

once you deemed them clean, you were pushing his face lower to your stomach.

san, ever obedient to his empress, began cleaning you there, too.

it was weirdly relaxing. san lapped at your skin. he continued even when most of the cum had been licked from your torso, just letting his tongue rove over your flesh.

“good boy,” you eventually praised.

then you were spreading out your legs, pushing san back. you were gentle with it, however, and he felt his heart flutter in his chest and his dick give a little lurch.

“here,” you said, your hand sliding to your cunt. “don’t forget here.”

your cunt, in consideration with the staining of cum to your tits and stomach and thighs, did not need to be cleaned.

but san found himself kneeling along the ledge that ran the complete length of the sunken tub, his fingers going to your cunt.

he used his thumbs to spread your lower lips, nails scraping lightly against your damp pussy hair. for a moment san just looked, taking in the pretty shape of your cunt.

then san was pressing his nose to your clit, tongue rolling out to lap at your hole. you were wet, the fluid bittersweet. san couldn’t help but lick at you again as soon as he had tasted you, running the broad width of his tongue up your pussy.

you moaned out, the loudest san had heard from you thus far.

and he found it absolutely addictive.

san didn’t know if all cunts were like this; didn’t know if it merely pertained to your pussy. but san found himself completely fixated, letting his tongue run from your hole to your clit, gathering your fluid and swallowing it eagerly.

he wanted to, quite simply, devour you.

no –

that wasn’t right –

san wanted to worship you.

your cunt was his altar, and san was devoted. he thrusted his tongue into your hole, licking at the rim. san moved his tongue to your clit, and that, too, he worshipped. he found it particularly addicting, the way you moaned and thighs tightened around him as he lapped at your clit.

san slid a finger into your hole, and you gasped out as you tightened down on it. your cunt clamped down on his fingers as it if were his cock, unwilling to let it go. your pussy milked his finger greedily as he ran his tongue over your clit messily, your hips in constant movement underneath him.

“fuck,” you groaned out as his finger arched up, pressing against a spongey pat of your pussy. your voice was loud, echoing around the bathroom. fleetingly, san thought about the other attendants and how he didn’t want them to hear the precious sounds you were making, because then, honesty, he’d gave to punch them until they forgot their own name, but then you were tightening your thighs around him.

fluid trickled around san’s finger as he thrust it in and out in rhythm with his licking of your clit. he lapped at the velvet area framing your clit, flicked his tongue rapidly against the spot in sporadic stimulation.

eventually your moans crescendoed, and a rough call of “san!” burst from your mouth as your pussy tightened around his finger and fluid gushed from your cunt.

san didn’t stop fucking his finger into you and licking at your pussy until you were hissing, physically pushing him away.

you had laid down at some point, and now you were propped up on your elbows. your face was twisted into a scowl, chest heaving as you looked at him.

for a few moments you didn’t say anything. you just stared at him.

eventually you pushed yourself up off of the marble. your skin was covered in goosebumps, and when you ran your fingers along your hairline san saw sweat had collected there.

you were shockingly quiet.

san laid his hands on your thighs, coming close. “are you okay?”

you looked at him, brows furrowed. your eyes danced over his face, taking him in.

then you scoffed, pushing him back. “you’ve got cunt juice on your face.”

you slid off of the edge of the tub and into the water. you were close to san due to him having been pressed against the edge. your hands went to his hips, and then you were moving him away from you, albeit not cruelly.

san watched as you sunk down into the water, letting it come up to your neck. you grabbed a handful, wetting your face.

“what do you want me to do?”

you glanced at him, eyelashes clumped together from the water.

“i suppose you wash me,” you said. “no one has ever attended me in the bath before, so you won’t have a point of comparison. you can decide if that’s good or not.”

“no one’s served you in the bath before?” san frowned, moving to grab the face wash. it was, in a complete contrast to the white marble of the room, in a sweet pink bottle with little cartoon characters decorating the bottle. “that attendant said you had killed someone in here.”

you shrugged. you stepped to him, your hands on his abdomen. you angled your face up towards him, waiting. “i have. did. and can.”

san ignored the threat. he held the bottle in one hand, using his free hand to spread water over your face once more. he tried to ignore the proximity, the way your hands touched his stomach.

he didn’t dare to ask at first, knowing it wasn’t his place. he was made to serve you, and san didn’t have a problem with that; he would never ask for anything different. more importantly: san didn’t want anything different.

“what happened?” he squeezed some of the face wash onto his hand, and then he was gently rubbing it into your cheek. “why did you kill someone?”

“i’ve killed a lot of people,” you mumbled, eyes falling shut as san’s hand roamed over your face, applying the face wash.

san hummed in acknowledgment. it was hard to think of you killing anyone, especially when you were like this. you were still in his hold, pliant as san ran his fingers over your face. you were soft and sweet, hands gentle against his abdomen, and he just couldn’t imagine you using those hands for sin.

“you shouldn’t have to kill anyone.” san, satisfied with how your face was lathered with face wash, dipped his hand into the water. he then, gently, slowly as to not get any in your eyes, began to wash the soap off of your face.

you frowned at his words.

san, sensing you wanted to speak, wiped at your mouth. he pressed his thumb along your lips, swiping at the soap.

“i am the empress of a large . . . enterprise,” you said. you peered at him. “to ask another to do such a thing without being willing to do it myself leads to dissent. i cannot be a good leader if i am unwilling to do what i ask of my followers.”

san felt a pang in his chest. he couldn’t help but feel admiration for you. the thought of you killing anyone, of bloodying your pure hands, filled san with such unease that it twisted at his stomach. but your explanation for the brutality filled him with pride. you were not some far-off, lofty creature urging worship. you were willing to do what had to be done.

san decided, not for the first and certainly not for the last time, he was proud to be the one you crowned victorious.

he smoothed his hand over your face one last time. san let the pads of his fingers trail over your chin, and when you didn’t immediately push back, he continued his exploration. san dragged his fingers down the column of your throat. he couldn’t help but watch his fingers travel. san settled his finger on your clavicle, letting his thumb drift down.

“do you need your hair washed?” san’s voice was deep even to him, and he could feel blood rushing down to his cock. his dick throbbed as he smoothed his hand downward, the thumb gently gliding along the curve of your tit.

your nails scraped against his abdomen. “no.”

san looked over your tits, admiring the hang of them, your pebbled nipples. he wanted to put his mouth on them, san decided.

“i do need washed,” you announced.

san pulled away. he immediately missed your body, missed your hands against his body.

san grabbed the body soap, and then he was returning to you.

“lift your arms,” he said, glancing you over.

you hummed, tilting your head. you looked him up and down. “no,” you said. “i’m sure you’re capable.”

san hesitated before you. he wasn’t sure quite what you were saying at first. but then you raised your brows at him, waiting, and san felt his dick throb painfully as realization struck him.

san slowly, haltingly, reached for your arm. san ran his hand over your arm, lathering your skin. he hesitated before sliding his hand along the underneath of your arm, fingertips pressing into your armpit.

you stood still, letting san wash you. he was gentle but efficient, trying not to linger on any spot in particular.

san tried to fight the instinct to just run his hands along your body and attach his mouth to your tit, wanting to worship. you were perfect and before him, and he didn’t know how long you would let him admire you for, and he sort of wanted to test it.

eventually, you went to the ledge of the tub, climbing to rise up out of the tub. your skin immediately broke out into goosebumps, and, seemingly despite yourself, you shivered.

you turned to him, water falling in droplets around you. “my legs,” you said.

and so san began to wash your legs. he was careful here, too. he ran his hands along your calves, along the backs of your knees. san took care when cleaning the insides of your thighs, biting down on his lip to keep his touch from lingering.

once he was done, he sunk his hands into the water to wash them.

“i’ve finished,” he said, glancing over you.

“not quite,” you returned. you sat back on the edge of the tub. you spread out your legs, baring your cunt. “you haven’t cleaned here.”

san blinked.

he tilted his head, confused. “but i already cleaned you there, didn’t i?”

you sighed, rolling your eyes. “you’ve licked me,” you clarified. “i need to be cleaned, choi san. i can’t walk around with a dirty cunt.”

“do i – do i lick you again?”

“choi san,” you admonished, “who knows where your mouth has been? your fingers are clean enough.”

and so san went between your legs, your knees knocking against his arms.

san smoothed his hands over the inside of your thighs, taking you in. he hadn’t been quite able to fully look at you before. now, with his dick throbbing and hard once more, he looked his fill.

you were laid back against the cold marble. your tits were like mounds, rising with every breath you took.

“you better hurry,” you announced into the bathroom air, “and clean my cunt before i get too cold.”

san swallowed his hesitation down.

then he was sliding his hands to your cunt.

he didn’t quite know what you were wanting from him. he didn’t know if there was a special soap you wanted him to use, if you truly meant for him to clean your pussy. san was a man confused, and you didn’t look like you were going to give him any aid any time soon.

san thought back to how he had cleaned your cunt earlier, lapping at it like a puppy. he decided you didn’t truly mean for him to clean your pussy.

so san slid one of his wet fingers into your damp cunt, slow and rigid.

he watched as your body tensed beneath him. you relaxed just as quickly.

san, for a lack of a better word, swabbed your pussy with his finger. he searched within your cunt as if it were some vessel in need of cleaning, as if he were trying to find something hidden within you that needed addressing.

eventually, though, you got tired of it.

“a second finger, choi san.”

san withdrew his forefinger. he was gentle as he slid both fingers into your cunt, knowing two was significantly more of a stretch than just one. you let out a long breath as you forced your body not to react to the second intrusion, lashes fluttering.

this time san took creative liberty. he scissored his fingers out, forcing your pussy walls to spread out and accommodate his digits. you weren’t loud, instead letting out gentle gasps.

your pussy, san noted with some degree of excitement, was gaining dampness. the hair of your cunt had already been wet from the tub, but as your body began to dry, your cunt only seemed to maintain its moisture.

as he scissored his fingers, feeling your walls resist and relent, a decidedly lewd and wet sound began to fill the bathroom. it was, of course, the sound of your cunt wetting itself, the slick noise produced by the near-constant move of his fingers within.

san looked over your body. you were so angelic, all spread out on the marble. his dick throbbed in response to you and your beauty.

san changed the angle of his hand, lowering himself so he could kneel along the ledge and get a better angle. he curled his fingers up towards the front of your body, hitting that branch of nerves that had your knees squeezing around him and mouth opening wide in a sweet gasp.

“san,” you gasped out, and –

– and fuck –

his name was a blessing falling from your lips. san had heard many beautiful things in his life: the song of a violin in an orchestra hall; the bubbling laughter of an infant; the silence that came after a year of battle. he had never thought a single word could be beautiful, thought it could be glorious when uttered, but the way you said his name made san feel as if it was gilded and sparkling. as if you were a goddess uttering a blessing.

san bit down on his lip, and then his second hand was joining his first at your pussy. he began thrusting his fingers into your cunt in a decisively wicked and relentless rhythm, striking the branch of nerves perfectly.

he coupled the sensation with slick swipes of his thumb over your clit. san watched as your body reacted beneath him, thighs lifting up off of the marble, hips eagerly trying to search something out.

you gasped into the air, back arching.

“won’t you say something?” your voice was raspy, and when he looked down at you your legs tightened around him, knee lifting up as if you were trying to cover yourself with it. “say something.”

“you’re perfect,” san said.

when you came, cunt tight around his fingers and mouth open wide, he thought you were divine.

san continued to fuck his fingers into your pussy as you came, though he gentled considerably. he drunk you in greedily, eyes darting over your body as you tried to catch your breath.

he loved you, he thought.

eventually, you let out a strangled groan, your foot on his hip and pushing him back.

san went obediently, pulling his hand from your pussy. he stepped off of the ledge and into the tub.

you sat up, eyes distant. he didn’t know if it was from the force of your orgasm or not. for a few moments, you just sat before him, brow furrowed and lips pressed into a firm line. you were not, for a few minutes, tether to the earth. he wondered what you saw.

san could see the moment you came back to yourself, blinking and seemingly shaking yourself out of whatever daze you had been in.

“are you –”

“back,” you commanded.

san moved further into the tub. you shifted, gently lowering yourself in. san watched as you stoically washed at your inner thighs and pussy, not caring to be particularly gentle or modest.

deeming yourself clean, san supposed, you stood from the tub.

he went to the edge, bracing his hands on the marble. “let me help –”

“no.”

you stood, water dripping down your figure. san watched as you went to the white towels. you took one and wrapped your hair up, your body shivering in the cold air. next you wrapped yourself, though you didn’t quite stop shivering.

“clean yourself,” you announced. you didn’t look at him as you went to the door. “you’ll find things to make a bed for yourself in the living room. i am not to be disturbed.”

san pushed himself out of the tub, kneeling on the marble, lips ready to ask a question –

but you were gone, leaving san alone in the bath with the white flowers on the marble counter.

#cromernet #ksmutsociety #ateez x reader #ateez oneshot #ateez smut #choi san x reader #choi san smut #choi san oneshot #choi san #ateez #✏️ — writing #⏳ — jupiter's ateez

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qilingxiong · 7 months ago

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A Jianghu Mystery of the Middle Xi: The Tomb of Li Xiangyi

By Qiling, University of □□ (2024)

Left: A photograph of the inscribed text at Li Xiangyi's tomb, reading, "The grave of the Sigu Sect's departed Sect Leader, Li Xiangyi". Right: Artist's sketch renditions from eye-level frontal and aerial side views, recreating how the tomb may have appeared during the Xi dynasty.

Among the numerous important archaeological finds from the Xi Dynasty, the tomb of Li Xiangyi is not the most well-known, nor has it yielded any artifacts of particular intrigue, yet it has raised questions about certain points in history since its discovery. The tomb constitutes a small site, near a mountainous overlook which should have received little common traffic at the time of construction. Its structure is in line with some other aristocratic burials of the Middle Xi period: aboveground, with a chamber at the center of a raised rectangular dais several meters wide, large enough to bear only a single individual. A stone marker, which has survived in legible condition until today, declares it the tomb of Li Xiangyi, leader of the Sigu jianghu sect.

Records about Li Xiangyi are found at other archaeological sites contemporary with this tomb, and so his name is not an obscure one. The Sigu Sect complex has already undergone excavation for nearly two decades, with evidence that Li Xiangyi spent several years there as its first sect leader and founder. His tomb is within two hours' walking distance of the Sigu site, though isolated in its location, compared to the Sigu Sect's grand mountain entrance. (The complex itself was inhabited well after his death; bamboo slips cite Qiao Wanmian as the Sigu Sect's next major leader some years after, who oversaw it for several more decades into the later Xi). In addition, the Baichuan-Pudu site, closer to the eastern coast and historically the headquarters for the Baichuan Court, is affiliated with Li Xiangyi. Its origins apparently lay in an offshoot of the Sigu Sect, which grew into its own independent legal organization after his death.

Legends surrounding Li Xiangyi's life have been well-documented, both at Sigu and Baichuan-Pudu, but also in books and transcriptions of oral stories at sites around the country. These are dated to both the Middle and Late Xi periods, as well as a few scattered mentions in writings from the following dynasty. As a jianghu sect leader and swordsman, Li Xiangyi's reputation truly preceded him. Some tales speak of his early accomplishments, ridding towns of villainous tyrants and defeating criminals. Others talk about the founding of the Sigu Sect when Li Xiangyi was seventeen, and his subsequent missions leading his fellow swordsmen to protect the borders of the country. Not all of these narratives can be verified with surviving historical proof, and given Li Xiangyi's status in the shifting canon of folklore, the percentage that are hyperbole or fiction is likely significant. However, one that should be true, and is the most frequently told story throughout these sources, is that of Li Xiangyi's death.

All texts place Li Xiangyi as having died relatively young, with some providing a specified age, generally around twenty. He perished in a duel with Di Feisheng, leader of the Jinyuan Alliance, a rival jianghu organization and presumed threat to the Sigu Sect. As the sources say, the Jinyuan Alliance killed Li Xiangyi's sect brother, Shan Gudao, and in retaliation he used the Sigu Sect to launch a war against the Jinyuan Alliance. His final battle was the last in this war, dying in the East Sea on Di Feisheng's ship. The Jinyuan Alliance in return was badly defeated by the Sigu Sect; excavations at its first compound in the last five years have shown evidence of siege, with fire having destroyed large parts of the buildings. Afterward, the Sigu Sect disbanded without Li Xiangyi, with only the Baichuan Court continuing to function, before being resurrected one decade later.

Given this knowledge we have about Li Xiangyi, the matter of his burial should be straightforward. He had a tremendous impact on the jianghu in the few short years that he stood at its peak. He died heroically, if tragically, to obtain justice for a brother. He was honoured with a tomb, standing guard over the sect he dedicated his youth to. Why, then, is said tomb regarded as somewhat of a mystery?

This tomb was first stumbled upon during extended surveys of the Sigu site territory, with excavation taking place within the last two years. Parts of the stone chamber and foundation of the dais have withstood time, as have most things left inside. The tomb bears no signs of looting. However, there are some details which, alongside discoveries from other archaeological sites, contribute to a shadow of uncertainty on the existing narrative of Li Xiangyi's life.

Firstly, is that the austerity of the tomb does not line up with what we know of Li Xiangyi. Although overall sufficient enough for someone of his great reputation, the tomb is rather plainly embellished. There are an unexpectedly small number of burial objects inside, with those present being neither rare nor expensive. For all his contributions to the jianghu, less money and resources were poured into remembrance of Li Xiangyi than seems proper for his time.

Secondly, and far more significantly, is that the tomb holds no human remains. Whether the fact of Li Xiangyi having no recovered body to bury was made public is unknown; if it was, we do not have record of it. Certainly those who arranged for the tomb to be built and sealed would have carried this with them the rest of their lives, but no one else may be accounted for. Granted, it is not impossible for a disappeared body to have been common knowledge or presumption, as Li Xiangyi was killed at sea with no guarantee of being found. Yet this, combined with the ordinary appearance of the tomb, causes the entire site to appear... a nominal thing. Constructed to maintain acknowledgement of Li Xiangyi's absence, though his death was only marked by words, rather than a physical state.

He was given a tomb, but was Li Xiangyi truly dead before it was built?

In terms of the aforementioned other archaeological site findings, there is one that potentially implicates Li Xiangyi's death at an interesting political junction, within the context of the dynasty. The Xi Dynasty was unstable and relatively short-lived, established after taking back the Central Plains and adjacent territories from the southern conquering state of Nanyin. It endured for just under two centuries, the first of which was fraught with pockets of conflict, with many jianghu skirmishes such as that between the Sigu Sect and the Jinyuan Alliance. The greatest threat to the Xi Dynasty (until its fall) came one hundred years after its founding. Recovered archival records from the Xi capital excavation report that remaining Nanyin loyalists attempted a coup, supported by jianghu organizations, including a restored Jinyuan Alliance (although whether Di Feisheng was still its leader at this time is unclear). This attack was ultimately unsuccessful, but important to note is that the leader of this renewed Nanyin force is described as being Shan Gudao, Li Xiangyi's former sect brother.

Although Li Xiangyi brought the Sigu Sect into a war upon news of Shan Gudao's death, that demise seems to have been faked, with Shan Gudao disappearing underground only to reappear as part of a later rebellion. Could Li Xiangyi have been aware of this? Was his reaction to Shan Gudao's apparent death genuine? Or part of a coordinated plan, using him as a reason to destroy the Jinyuan Alliance, to eradicate any future resistance? Did Li Xiangyi, too, fake his death alongside Shan Gudao, in service of a shared cause? Were remnants of the Sigu Sect instructed to build an empty tomb, cementing Li Xiangyi as a dead hero so he could work in the shadows of the jianghu instead?

This is merely speculation, contradicted by the fact that if Li Xiangyi had indeed done as such, unlike Shan Gudao, after his duel with Di Feisheng he has no reappearance in any surviving records or at any archaeological site. As well, Li Xiangyi should have had no motivation for committing to such a scheme, with even loyalty to Shan Gudao a stretch for putting all the lives of the Sigu Sect on the line. That being said, history has a way of surprising the present, and this theory may not be entirely ruled out. At any rate, Shan Gudao's survival is a baffling accompaniment to Li Xiangyi's (lack of a) burial, one which will hopefully receive clarifying answers in future archaeological developments.

Perhaps the strangest piece of the puzzle concerning the end of Li Xiangyi's life, however, is Di Feisheng. After the Jinyuan Alliance was scattered by the Sigu Sect, stories regarding Li Xiangyi declared him dead and disappeared. Yet not unlike Shan Gudao, he became known in the jianghu once more about ten years later, witnessing the Nanyin's attempted coup and living long after. His tomb remained untouched, and was excavated eight years ago as part of the greater Tianji Mountain site project. The location of Di Feisheng's tomb is surprising, not only because it directly links him to the powerful and wealthy He clan of Tianji Manor, but also because he was buried next to their sole young master during the Xi Dynasty, Fang Duobing.

The son of financial minister Fang Zeshi and engineering master He Xiaohui, Fang Duobing became a notable youxia travelling the jianghu in the emperor's name, assigned in the wake of the attempted Nanyin coup. According to palace records, he was also betrothed to Princess Zhaoling, although the marriage agreement was eventually formally dissolved. What is otherwise known of Fang Duobing was his admiration of Li Xiangyi, having styled himself as a follower and disciple of him during his youth. As well, one eye-catching artifact among Fang Duobing's burial goods was a preserved wooden replica of a blade, with Li Xiangyi's name carved near the hilt. Likely a children's toy, prized and kept safe throughout Fang Duobing's life.

The exact nature of the relationship between Di Feisheng and Fang Duobing is not entirely certain, but it must have been a very close one, for Di Feisheng to have the privilege of burial on the Tianji estate. This topic justifies future study for our understanding of the Tianji He clan, already known in prior generations for its socially subversive relationships, but pertinent to Li Xiangyi is that the man whose most infamous act was to kill him, was laid to rest beside one who revered him. Why was there such a bond between these two figures, if the stories of Li Xiangyi's death have any truth to them? Did Li Xiangyi really die by Di Feisheng's blade? Did Li Xiangyi's empty tomb, plausibly signifying Di Feisheng's innocence, alter his relationship with Fang Duobing? Or indeed, did Li Xiangyi, the man himself, have a part to play in this?

No traces of him from this time remain in the archaeological record, true. But this should not be taken to mean without doubt that he was not alive then at all.

The discovery of Li Xiangyi's tomb has been an exciting development for studying this era of the Xi Dynasty, but it has also outlined doubt in areas of one man's life that were previously taken as likely facts. Li Xiangyi's tomb is scarcely fitting for his name as a founding sect leader, built more for the sake of its existence than anything else, and there was no body sealed inside to begin with. In addition, Shan Gudao— someone dear to Li Xiangyi— established a precedent of faking his death. Di Feisheng, known across the jianghu for killing the man, held a close bond with someone later in life who had personally looked up to Li Xiangyi, and so he may not have been fully responsible for Li Xiangyi's death to begin with.

What truly happened to Li Xiangyi, resulting in a tomb such as this? The past holds the answer, knowing things that we do not. Hopefully the future of archaeology will continue leading to new discoveries, and allow us to more completely understand the legend that was Li Xiangyi.

#this is probably a better archaeological research paper than the one i wrote on sanxingdui a few days ago #anyways hi yes. i just impulse wrote a fake archaeological paper for fun. enrichment. whatever #also i tried not to sound too pop culture archaeology in this #to any other anthropology or archaeology majors. if it comes off that way i am sorry </3 it's past 4am rn #mysterious lotus casebook #li xiangyi #di feisheng #fang duobing #ashton writes fic #difang #<- to any difang shippers just sit with me for a bit and think about these two being buried together

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hindulivesmatter · 11 months ago

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Resources to learn more about Hinduphobia, and Hindu culture.

Making a masterpost about this because I'm getting a lot of asks for it. The list will be updated!

Books to read:

Not Without My Daughter by Betty Mahmoody. This is the memoir of a woman stuck in Iran and how she has to illegally sneak out with her daughter. It doesn't focus on Hinduphobia but it does highlight the violence perpetuated by Muslims to women. This is a true story and a movie has also been made on it. Also, I just need to appreciate how well it's written, I was on the edge of my seat the whole time.

Aavarna by S. L. Bhyrappa. This book basically details how Hindu history was derailed and destroyed by Mughal invaders, specifically Aurangzeb, the plot is fictional but the history is real.

All Religions Are Not the Same by Sanjay Dixit. This is a new book and I've just ordered it actually. It discusses the differences between religions and how secularism affects that.

Why I Killed Gandhi by Nathuram Godse. Includes the testimonial of the man who killed Gandhi. I'm about to read this book and I'm excited. Don't be fooled by the one-star reviews.

Hindus in Hindu Rashtra by Anand Ranganathan. Illustrates 9 examples of the hypocrisy of the current government when it comes to legalities and laws concerning Hindus.

Some people you can follow on Twitter are Dr Anand Ranganathan, The Skin Doctor, and VivanVatsa. They're all well-read on Hinduphobia and/or Hindu history.

A fantastic account on Instagram called vrindkavi posts amazing comics on Indian history and mythology.

Blogs you can follow for awareness, and learning about Hinduphobia/Hindu culture:

@rhysaka (debunking common myths, awareness, politics/geopolitics, news, culture)

@mrityuloknative (debunking common myths, awareness, politics/geopolitics, news, culture)

@main-agar-kahoon (debunking common myths, awareness, culture)

@yato-dharmastato-jayah (history and explanations, culture)

@forgotten-bharat (amazing for the history of ancient India, and culture)

@kailash-se-birha (culture, awareness)

@aranyaani (debunking common myths, awareness, politics/geopolitics, news, culture)

Interesting masterposts from other blogs:

Booklist to learn more about Hindu History by @mrityuloknative

The Ayodhya Masterpost by @mrityuloknative

Some important Hindu literature:

Mahabharata This is classified as an Itihasa text. It deals with a war between 2 royal factions and is a vehicle for describing the activities of the Avatar Krishna.

Ramayana This is also an Itihasa text. It provides the biography of Lord Rama who is considered an Avatar of Vishnu.

Bhagavad Gita This is an important text of the Vedanta school and is treated separately although it is part of Mahabharata. It provides a coherent summary of Vedanta.

Srimad Bhagavatam This is a Purana and provides a biography of Lord Krishna. This is an important text for the Vaishnava sect of Hinduism.

Shiva Purana and Linga Purana These Puranas provide the biography of Lord Shiva and are important texts for the Saivite sect of Hinduism.

Chandi or Devi Mahatmyam This is an important text for Saktas who worship Sakti or Devi. This text is really part of the Markandeya Purana.

But really, the best way to combat Hinduphobia, is to learn about our history and culture, because if you know the truth, you won't fall for the twisted narrative being peddled by the media today. If you've got to the end of this, thank you for educating yourself and learning about us.

#masterpost #resources

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celestialsibyl · 1 year ago

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planetary archetypes: ancient astrology

𖤓 hierarchy of the cosmos 𖤓

the luminaries [sun & moon] are the brightest celestial bodies that emit the most light. the moon ☽ is the sun’s ☉ mirror, reflecting solar light and illuminating the night sky

the following planets are in order according to their distance from earth.

moon ☽ ➝ mercury ☿ ➝ venus ♀➝ sun ☉ ➝ mars ♂ ➝ jupiter ♃ ➝ saturn ♄

sun ☉ diety: sol [roman] hēlios [greek] shamash [babylonian] surya [indian] is the light of the mind, perception of the soul, the source of energy. its creative power is absolute. at a personal level, sun expresses itself as self-esteem and confidence, sense of purpose, ambition and determination. associated with the symbolism of an emperor with his central authority, leadership. illuminator. so[u]l.

moon ☽ diety: luna [roman] selēnē [greek] sin [babylonian] chandra [indian] is a cosmic mirror, reflection of solar and creative light, thus the analogy with multiplication, reproduction, and chaos. it is constantly going through its phases and cycles from new moon to full moon. associated with the mother and nurturing principle. body.

mercury ☿ diety: mercurius [roman] hermēs [greek] nebu [babylonian] budha [indian] is the writer of destinies, the scribe god, bestower of intellectual and practical wisdom. interpreter of dreams. mercury rules the mind and as the fastest moving planet, it symbolizes the speed of thought. messenger and trickster.

venus ♀ diety: venus [roman] aphroditē [greek] ishtar [babylonian] shukra [indian] is the goddess of love, femininity, beauty, music, art, and sexual pleasures. venus is the yin side of libido, passive and dark. venus is magnetic and seductive, she knows how to make things happen without actually doing anything tangible. brings harmony and softness. affinity with artistic endeavours, aesthetics and creativity.

mars ♂ diety: martus [roman] arēs [greek] nergal [babylonian] kuja [indian] is the god of war, the warrior, the rage, anger, passion, vitality, will to fight; the will to live. it is violent aggressive. the yang side of libido, active and light. mars brings destruction and chaos when not disciplined. mars is sharp either physically or mentally.

jupiter ♃ diety: jove [roman] zues [greek] marduk [babylonian] brihaspati [indian] is the sage of wisdom, abundance, optimism, faith, luck, philosophy, and higher knowledge. jupiter is the biggest planet in the entire solar system, symbolizing expansion and growth. jovial and hopeful.

saturn ♄ diety: saturnus [roman] kronos [greek] ninurta [babylonian] shani [indian] is elder, the authoritative figure who puts you in solitary and through long-lasting punishments. saturn makes you or breaks you, for the greater good in the long-term. the visible rings around saturn symbolize constraints and restrictions. what bounds you can also be your key to freedom.

classification of the planets:

hot - sun ☉ mars ♂ jupiter ♃ venus ♀ changeable - mercury ☿

cold - moon ☽ saturn ♄

dry - mars ♂ sun ☉ saturn ♄ changeable - mercury ☿

moist - moon ☽ venus ♀ jupiter ♃

planets can be classified as hot, cold, moist, and dry

benefic - jupiter ♃ venus ♀ changeable - mercury ☿

malefic - saturn ♄ mars ♂

planets can be classified as benefic, "doers of good", or malefic, "doers of bad".

masculine - sun ☉ jupiter ♃ saturn ♄ mars ♂ androgynous - ☿

feminine - moon ☽ venus ♀

diurnal - sun ☉ jupiter ♃ saturn ♄ common - mercury ☿

nocturnal - moon ☽ venus ♀ mars ♂

planets can belong to either the diurnal (day) sect or to the nocturnal (night) sect.

what planet is your chart ruler? what condition is it in? let me know in the comments!

made by yours truly <3

- @celestialsibyl

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lemonlimebitcoin · 1 year ago

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:(hello there. a fellow purpleblood asking h!j!nx here): :(! assume youre at least moderately rel!g!ous? with you wear!ng facepa!nt and all. any spec!f!c sect you belong to? personally ! dont really l!ke the clownchurch at all, but ! do wanna keep my m!nd open on th!ngs):

HA: Express your concern.

‟thE fIsh swAm dEEp bEnEAth thE lImEstOnE mOUth Of A rIvEr cAvE.¹⁴⁰⁹⁸ bElIEvIng thAt thE gArblEd EYEs Of thE pOtAtO trEEs cOUld nOt fOllOw thEm thErE.¹⁴⁰⁹⁹”

‟YEt As thEY swAm thEIr fIns brUshEd AgAInst fAmIlIAr rOOts. tAnglEd nEts thAt ExtEndEd fAr bEnEAth thE rIvErbEd.”

What the fuck is that supposed to mean.

HA: Rephrase???

‟pErhAps At thE hEIght Of hEr mOst dElEctAblE hUbrIs thE hErEtIc cOUld fInd cOmmOn grOUnd wIth thOsE OthErs thAt rEjEctEd thEIr sAcrEd rEspOnsIbIlItY tO thE wIckEd bUskErs Of thE dArk cArnIvAl.⁰⁰⁰⁰”

‟bEnEAth thE pAlE mAsk wAs nEIthEr thE spIrIt Of cOmEdY Or trAgEdY, bUt A vOId thAt nO lOngEr dAncEd AcrOss thE stAgE At All.⁰⁰⁰⁰”

-- hydrostatAcquiescant [HA] attached the file [UNRELATED.MP3]

‟thErE OncE wAs A grOUp Or sElf-rIghtEOUs fEmAlE fOOls whO dIsrEspEctEd thE prOmIsE Of thE dArk cArnIvAl wIth An UnrEAlIstIc fOIlIng - "thE cUrtAInfAll HArlEqUInAdE". bUt thEIr lOvIng trAnsfOrmAtIvE hAUghtY IdEAs wErE stAmpEd OUt bY thE rIghtEOUs lAUgh Of thE trUE prOphEts.⁹⁹⁹⁸⁹”

#ask hijinx #sadpurpleblood #eye strain #text

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cromwellrex2 · 20 days ago

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The Restoration: ‘As to things of State - the King settled and loved of all’

The Compromise Settlement of Charles II

King Charles II by John Michael Wright. Source: Wikipedia

FOR MANY former supporters of the Parliamentary cause, the Restoration must have been hard to take. For all the warm words of the Declaration of Breda, it must have felt to those that had followed John Pym, Arthur Heselrige, Oliver Cromwell and John Lambert, and especially the comrades of John Lilburne, that their own world had been turned upside down. For the Restoration, in so many ways, was precisely that. Not only was Charles II settled on his throne which in truth, by 1660, all but the most ardent republicans believed was the only way out of the constitutional impasse the Commonwealth had found itself in, but the House of Lords was re-established; the Church of England, including a hierarchy of bishops was reintroduced; the New Model Army was abolished and even the Divine Right of Kings was reinstated. It must have seemed to the advocates of the Good Old Cause that all those years of tumult, death and revolution were for naught: the Monarchy and all its works was back with a vengeance.

And of course, there was indeed vengeance. As described last time, the regicides that were still alive were pursued mercilessly by the new government, even the dead not being safe from the King’s wrath. In addition, the so-called “Cavalier Parliament” consisting of triumphal Royalist MPs, presided in many respects over a victor’s peace. The disestablishment of the New Model Army was, after the executions of the regicides, the most visible sign of a restored monarchy. The Army had been the instrument of Charles I’s defeat and the constant protector of the Commonwealth, and it had also been a major political player that forcibly dissolved Parliament after Parliament. To see this formidable military force that had destroyed the Royalist armies, crushed the Scots and ended the Irish Rebellion, simply disappear was no clearer sign that not only was the Parliamentary cause dead, but that the gravest threat to the Stuart regime was also no more - and without a shot being fired. The successor regiments that later became the Coldstream Guards and the Royal Horse Guards, comprised the core of a 7,000 man militia, loyal solely to the monarch - a situation that Charles I had long craved. These regiments would become the basis of the standing British Army, whose oath of loyalty remains to the monarch - an echo of the settlement of England’s civil wars.

Charles’ religious settlement was, on the face of it, a restoration of the Anglican Church in its prewar form. Episcopalianism was back, including in Scotland, supported by a new Book of Common Prayer. Bishops were also readmitted to a restored House of Lords, where they sit still. Despite Charles’ Breda promises of religious toleration, the Solemn League and Covenant was repealed, and the cause which had spurred the Scots into rebellion and war against the King’s government in the late 1630s was effectively suppressed. Although Charles himself was personally quite tolerant of different religious persuasions, including notoriously, Roman Catholicism, his Parliament was not. The confident Cavaliers remembered how hard the Presbyterians had tried to enforce their version of Protestantism on the three kingdoms; how the rule of the Major-Generals had tried to squeeze all joy out of Christian worship and, recalled with horror, the republicanism and threat to land ownership that millennial sects, sheltering within the ranks of the Levellers, had tried to introduce. A number of anti- Puritan bills were passed, most notably the Corporation Act of 1661 (which excluded non-Anglicans from public office) and the Five Mile Act of 1665 (which banned non-Anglican ministers from their former livings). These Acts effectively excluded Presbyterians and other low church groups from participating in the new political or religious establishment. This led ultimately to these disenfranchised faithful into forming their own churches. They called themselves Nonconformists and Dissenters, eventually formalising themselves into the various strands of Methodism. Within these churches the spirit of anti-Royalist and Anglican sentiment remained, leading ultimately to eighteenth century radicalism and part of the impulse that fuelled the desire for independence within Britain’s American colonies.

Scotland was freed of military occupation and its Parliament restored, but government garrison troops remained and Scotland never recovered the independent swagger it had enjoyed earlier in the century when it was able to interfere in the affairs of England and influence the outcomes of the civil wars with easy confidence. With its government impoverished and subservient, its independent military strength non-existent, its religion subordinated and the fault line between Highland and Lowland populations exacerbated by the civil wars, Scotland was a shadow of its prewar self. The days of routine Scottish invasions of England were over forever. In less than fifty years, Scotland’s mercantile class, faced with bankruptcy following catastrophic economic decisions and ill-advised colonial adventures, would petition the English Parliament and Crown for an Act of Union, granted in 1707, which would make the United Kingdom a political, as well as a monarchical, reality.

In Ireland, Charles’ government was focused and ensuring rebellion did not recur and made great efforts to rehabilitate, and reconcile with, the landowning Old English aristocracy and breaking the religious solidarity with the Old Irish rural workers and peasants that had driven so much of the rebellion’s early success. Charles’ own pro-Catholic sympathies helped this process, but he also did little to restrain Scottish Protestant settlement in the north and west, thus sowing the seeds of a sectarian conflict that would get ever more vicious over the next three hundred years.

But the Restoration was not absolute and Charles did not intend it to be, whatever the attitudes of the Cavalier Parliament. Charles had not spent half his life prior to his return on the run in order to simply repeat the mistakes of his father. Although not the constitutional monarch envisaged by George Monck, Charles nonetheless attempted to rule in partnership with Parliament. For Charles, his Divine Right to rule was a device to secure his legitimacy, not a principle by which a king should govern. There were several political factors that caused Charles to eventually dissolve the Cavalier Parliament in 1679, but new elections were held immediately. Unlike his father, Charles was never tempted by Personal Rule and was rarely in dispute with his Parliaments, unlike his predecessor governments. Parliamentary rule was solidified under Charles’ settlement in a way unimaginable in the years leading up to the civil wars.

Similarly, for all the anti-Puritanism of his regime, there was no systematic persecution of dissenters and no legal requirement for his subjects to adopt the new Prayer Book or the Anglican Communion. In Ireland, the ferocious oppression of Catholics and Irish self-determination was still in the future, and that would be driven principally by Protestant settlers, exacerbated significantly by the renewal of civil conflict in Ireland in the late 1680s. Charles was a cautious and astute man. His love affair with particularly, the English, population, had significantly dissipated by the end of his reign, but all his subjects, whatever their views of his government, were grateful to him for ensuring peace was maintained and that the conflicts that had led the inhabitants of the British Isles to fight and kill each other for years, were not reignited.

The immediate view of history, that lasted well into the nineteenth century, was that he British civil wars and the republican experiment were anomalies, best forgotten. The skill of the Stuart and Hanoverian regimes in suggesting the civil wars were no more than a family quarrel, quickly forgiven and forgotten, is the reason why there is no direct link between the proto-socialism of the Putney Debates and the the later Radicalism of the eighteenth century. Issues such as land reform and universal suffrage were effectively barred from public debate for 150 years.

Charles’ later reign did contain conflict and there was even a Radical attempt to kidnap the King at one point, but the most dangerous issue was that of the succession. A new political Parliamentary party, with a sneaking admiration for the Good Old Cause, called the Whigs, was formed determined to prevent the accession of Charles’ brother the openly Roman Catholic James, to the throne given the absence of a legitimate heir to Charles. A staunchly Royalist group which became known as the Tories formed to oppose the Whigs and support the Stuart succession. Thus the contours of future Parliamentary debate and factionalism began to take shape.

In February 1685, Charles died. There was, in the event, no challenge initially to James ascending the throne as King James II. However, the new monarch resembled his father in a haughty attitude and political ineptitude. The conflicts that drove civil wars would be reprised and, once again, absolute monarchy would be the loser.

#english civil war #charles ii #the restoration #Stuart monarchy #cavalier Parliament #radicalism #james ii

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mamtamondal · 6 months ago

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Election website for elections in Religious organizations

Religious organizations or associations: Introduction Religious organizations or associations primarily work to bring individuals together whose beliefs towards religions, rituals, and values are common. Unlike other associations that are formed with different purposes, like social or recreational interests, religious organizations mainly focused on matters of faith. These groups work as hubs where people having relative spiritual convictions come together to worship, engage in religious practices, and form a robust sense of affinity within their community. This shared religious principle creates a unique connection among members, differentiating these organizations from all the other types of associations.

How are they different from other associations? Religious organizations distinguish themselves by their emphasis on spiritual beliefs, fostering a sense of shared faith and community. Unlike secular associations, they center around religious rituals and teachings. The unique bond among members goes beyond social or recreational connections, creating a deep, collective commitment to shared values and spiritual identity within the organization.

There are various forms of religious associations for example - temple management, mandir trust, associations of members of the same sect, for example Jain Samaj; members of same religious or sect who have come together for a specific purpose - for example running of schools.

Purpose

The primary purpose of religious organizations is to provide a communal space for individuals who share the same religious beliefs. They serve as places of worship, spiritual guidance, and community support, fostering a sense of belonging and shared identity among their members.

StructureReligious organizations typically have a hierarchical structure, with leaders such as priests, pastors, or clerics guiding the community. The structure may also include committees or councils responsible for managing various aspects of the organization, such as finances, events, and community outreach.

Election frequencyElections within religious organizations are not as frequent as in political settings. They are usually held to select leaders or representatives who will guide the community for a specified term. The frequency of these elections varies among different religious groups, with some conducting them annually, while others may do so every few years.

Challenges – Religious organizations face unique challenges in conducting elections. These challenges include:

Senior Citizens: Many members of religious organizations are senior citizens, and they may face challenges in participating due to physical limitations (inability to travel to a booth and stand in a queue to vote) or lack of familiarity with technology.

Semi-Literate Members: Some members may have limited literacy skills, making it difficult for them to navigate complex voting systems.

Not Very Tech-Friendly: A significant portion of the community may not be comfortable with modern technology, posing a barrier to online or electronic voting methods.

Dispersed Across the Country and World: Members may be scattered across different geographical locations, making it challenging to gather everyone for a centralized voting process.

Located in Remote Places: Some religious communities are situated in remote areas with limited access to modern infrastructure, hindering the implementation of advanced voting technologies.

Challenges With Current Offline Voting - Traditional offline voting methods in religious organizations face several issues, including:

Low Voter Turnout: Offline voting often results in lower voter turnout, as some members may find it inconvenient to travel to designated voting locations.

Limited Budget: Organizing physical voting booths requires a budget, which may be limited for many religious organizations, affecting the quality and accessibility of the election process.

Influence of Leaders: Voting booths often coincide with places of worship, allowing leaders like priests to exert influence on the voting decisions of the members, potentially compromising the fairness of the election process.

Need Of eVoting

In the context of elections within religious organizations, there are several challenges and considerations that need attention. The election process in such settings often faces unique circumstances that impact voter participation, accessibility, and overall efficiency. Here, we have the key issues surrounding elections in religious organizations.

Low Voter Turnout:

Religious organizations frequently encounter low voter turnout during elections. This may be due to various reasons such as lack of awareness, disengagement, or apathy among the members. Addressing this concern is crucial to ensure a representative and inclusive election process.

Difficulty for People to Go to the Booth for Voting – Old People, Standing in Queue:

Accessibility poses a significant challenge as many members, especially the elderly, may find it difficult to physically go to the voting booth. Long queues can be particularly challenging for older individuals. Finding solutions to make the voting process more convenient and accommodating for all members is essential.

Spread Across the Country and Abroad:

Religious organizations often have members spread across wide geographical areas, including different countries. Coordinating elections for such a diverse and widespread community requires careful planning to facilitate participation from all corners. Ensuring that the election process is accessible to members abroad is vital for inclusivity.

Saves Cost, Time, and Effort:

Implementing an online election system can help save resources, both in terms of cost and time. Traditional methods of organizing elections, involving physical polling stations and manual vote counting, can be resource-intensive. Moving to a digital platform can streamline the process, making it more efficient and cost-effective.

Secured and Transparent:

Maintaining the security and transparency of the election process is paramount. Members should have confidence that their votes are counted accurately and that the overall process is fair. Implementing secure online voting systems can enhance transparency and reduce the potential for fraud, ensuring the integrity of the elections within religious organizations.

FeaturesThe following key features contribute to a well-organized and inclusive election system.

Secret Ballot:

The election process should incorporate a secret ballot system, allowing voters to cast their votes in private. This ensures the confidentiality of individual choices, promoting a fair and unbiased outcome.

Audit Trail:

An audit trail is a record-keeping mechanism that logs all activities related to the election process. This feature enhances transparency by providing a detailed account of each step, from voter registration to result declaration, enabling stakeholders to verify the integrity of the entire process.

Voter Receipt:

After casting their vote, each voter should receive a confirmation receipt. This receipt serves as proof of participation and reinforces the transparency of the election. It allows voters to verify that their vote has been registered correctly and contributes to building trust in the electoral process.

OTP-Based Authentication:

Implementing OTP (One-Time Password) based authentication adds an extra layer of security to the election system. It ensures that only authorized individuals can access the voting platform, minimizing the risk of fraudulent activities and unauthorized access.

Picture of Candidate on the Ballot:

To cater to illiterate or semi-literate voters, including a picture of each candidate on the ballot is crucial. This visual representation helps voters easily identify and select their preferred candidate, promoting inclusivity and ensuring that everyone can participate in the election process, regardless of their literacy level.

Instant Result Post-Poll Close:

After the poll closing time, the election system should generate instant results. This swift outcome provides timely information to all stakeholders, fostering transparency and preventing unnecessary delays. Instant results contribute to the overall efficiency of the election process and allow for quick communication of the outcome to the concerned parties.

Optional Additional features that make our election system reliable and trustworthy.

Voter Selfie:

To enhance the integrity of the election process, voters are encouraged to submit a selfie during the voting process. This helps ensure that the person casting the vote is indeed the authorized voter, adding an extra layer of identity verification.

Double Authentication:

Our system employs a double authentication process to guarantee the legitimacy of voters. This involves verifying the identity of the voter through multiple channels, such as a combination of login credentials, unique codes, or other secure methods. This helps prevent unauthorized access and ensures that only eligible individuals participate in the election.

Unique IP Address:

Each voter is assigned a unique IP address during the voting process. This measure prevents multiple votes from the same individual and guards against potential fraud. It reinforces the one-person-one-vote principle, maintaining the fairness and credibility of the election.

Result Multi-Lock:

To safeguard the accuracy of election results, our system incorporates a multi-lock mechanism. This means that the results are secured through multiple layers of encryption and authentication, preventing any tampering or manipulation. This ensures that the declared outcomes truly reflect the will of the participating voters.

Geotagging:

Geotagging is utilized to track the geographical location of voters during the election. It helps identify and prevent any attempts at remote or unauthorized voting, contributing to the overall reliability of the election process.

Right2Vote’s Credentials

Right2Vote comes with a robust set of credentials that make it a trusted choice for conducting elections in medical associations:

Government of India approved:

Right2Vote has received approval from the Government of India, attesting to its credibility and compliance with regulatory standards.

Track record of successful elections:

The platform has a proven track record of conducting successful elections in medical associations, demonstrating its reliability and effectiveness.

Unique and advanced security features:

Right2Vote’s security features are designed to meet the unique challenges of medical association elections, ensuring a secure and transparent voting process.

Easy to use:

The Right2Vote mobile platform simplifies the voting process, making it user-friendly for healthcare professionals. The step-by-step process, including OTP verification, ensures a smooth and efficient voting experience. We have made a detailed youtube video on how you can easily vote on our platform. Click on the link to watch https://youtu.be/g2vDrwvg2Ow

Conclusion

The implementation of an online voting system for religious organizations provides practical answers to the challenges of conducting elections amid diverse schedules and widespread membership. With official endorsement and recognized reliability, Right2Vote has emerged as a reliable choice that guarantees transparency, efficiency, and inclusivity in religious elections.

Embracing technological advancement is essential to uphold the democratic processes within religious organizations, fostering fair representation and active participation among members.

#online voting website #evoting #Voting app #secured voting #best online voting system

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h3artf3ltint3nt · 8 months ago

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Never in his wildest dream had he imagined he'd be killed by his brother in any way. Yes, this isn't really his brother, this is Mingjue's mindless fierce corpse, not knowing the difference between friend or foe. Huaisang hadn't expected the end battle to contain fully as many people present as it did, especially not Kexin, but she had somehow found her way to the Guanyin Temple. She's now trying to stop the bleeding from a fatal wound caused by the man dearest to them both, a man long since dead as well. Huaisang gives her a weak smile. "N-no... u-use..." He is dying. He knows it. She knows it. Everyone there knows it. Huaisang expected to die today. It is all fine. All letters and documents are in order in his work room. Nie Shuchang will become sect leader, being the closest blood relative to Huaisang. "Shi-m-mei... h-help... help... t-tánggē..." Everything is getting colder and number, the colours draining from his vision. "M-make sure... san-ge... dies..." The snake needs to die. He does not deserve to live and Huaisang knows that Kexin will make sure it happens if he survives this battle. "L-love... y-you..." he breathes out, feeling the last of his life running out with the thick crimson blood painting the floor beneath him. It's finally over. Now, Nie Huaisang gets to rest.

(no meme, just Ezra being EVIL T-T )

"A-Sang!" she cries out the moment the hit lands. Mingjue's corpse seems to hesitate for a split second, before he turns on Guangyao again. Meanwhile, Wanyin makes an attempt to grab her arm to keep her from running into the danger, but he's injured and she's determined, so the attempt fails. The moment she gets to Huaisang, she kneels beside, immediately tearing off a square of her robe to press to the wound. "It's okay. You'll be okay. I'll stop the bleeding and get healers-" she rambles, despite her vision already becoming blurry from unshed tears. Then he speaks, and his voice is so weak and she can no longer deny that she won't be able to save him. "No. No. Please. You can't-I can't-" is as far as she gets before she can't hold back her tears any longer. They fall in a never ending stream as she tries to focus on his words

At his urge for her to help Shuchang she can only give a barely there nod, too consumed by grief already to properly acknowledge such a thing. His next request garners far more attention. Make sure San-ge dies...he killed Dà-gē and the resentment that had consumed him and caused Huaisang's injury was because of that. "I will. I promise," she says, her voice barely audible. When he says love you, a part of her wants to scream out 'then don't leave me' but it would do no good. "L-love you," she manages to choke out with a sob. The moment he draws his last breath she holds him close to her, as he had Dà-gē all those years ago, and heaving sobs rack her body.

When Mingjue had died, Huaisang had been a tether, the only thing keeping her from letting her emotions completely take over. She had to comfort and be there for him, so she couldn't lose it. But now, there wasn't that tether. She didn't know how long it was but suddenly her grief transformed into a blinding white rage that she had never felt before, urged on by Xin Yi's echo of his words in her mind "make sure… san-ge… dies…". Die. Kill. Who could really blame her? Losing the person she cared about most, after a rough couple of days for all of them. A time in which she hadn't the time to meditate or balance out her qi with her fan. She still practiced saber cultivation, after all and angry outbursts were common for those that practiced it. Perhaps she was on the verge of a qi deviation for real at the moment, but she simply couldn't bring herself to care if she was. She gently moves him off her lap, grasps Xin Yi's hilt and stands, a dark look that was practically foreign to her face outside of Sunshot crossing her features and makes her way towards him.

"Jin Guangyao," she says, far too calmly. "This. All of this, is because of you. You took them both from me," she says, her voice still eerily calm. That is until she lunges at him with a shout of "Why should you get to keep breathing?!" Unfortunately, Xichen is able to apprehend her, though not before she manages to get a slash in. Then someone is pulling her away and taking Xin Yi from her hands. When they let go she starts sobbing again. At some point in the scuffle, she had cut her hand, which she only notices when she goes to wipe at her tears. Fresh blood, and they're only blocking her from getting to Guangyao. Not blocking her from the coffin. That's how she could keep her promise.

Making a show of forcing herself to stand on shaky legs, reaching out to the coffin to assist her, she places her cut hand right atop the seals that Wei Wuxian made on it. She plays it even further by screaming and dropping back to the ground as Mingjue's corpse breaks free, immediately lunging for Guangyao. She crawls back over towards Huaisang. The suddenness made it rather impossible for anything to be done before Guangyao is in Mingjue's grasp. Her promise complete. When Xichen turns to her, she's crying. "It was an accident. I-I didn't know there was blood on my hand. And before that when I- I was just so angry and hurt and I couldn't stop myself I didn't mean-I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Er-ge," she sobs, bringing her knees to her chest and continuing to sob into them. And she notes that the majority of it isn't a ruse. She was genuinely conflicted. But in the end, that promise to Huaisang and the need for Dà-gē to be avenged overcame that conflict enough for her to make the decision she did. Even if it was likely a decision that would haunt her for however long she decides to stay alive.

#cuckoo among beasts #long post #cw: death #cw: blood #//um I think I got possessed a bit there #//but anyways YOU ARE EVIL!#//I CRIED LIKE 3 TIMES WHILE WRITING THIS #//MY HEART

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brick-van-dyke · 2 months ago

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I'm studying climate change and ecological impact of it at university but thanks, I'll be sure to tell my professors they also know nothing of the environment.

Bruh, I came to call out the antisemetism because it was genuinely there and tried to be respectful in calling it out. However, that doesn't erase the FACT that Israel has committed a lot of crimes against Palestinians and that Zionism is problematic. I tried to explain a common misconception and lie (80-90% of Jews? Are you kidding me? You really think almost every Jew is a Zionist when they're out here on the streets protesting? Oh right, they're not Jews to you all never mind! Because you all can decide based on political ideology what is and isn't) but all I got was immediately "lalala can't beat you over the fact I any a dni test to prove what you are". Okay pay for it then, tf? You want to know if I have enough ancestry to be allowed to talk about research I conduct? Like I don't need to know what my bloodline is and this is exactly what I mean when I say "well if you think that's Nazi shit then look in the mirror pal" because it's literally what you demand of me; proof of my heritage. Also no, religion can't just be neatly placed into boxes of "well you're not in an organisation" bruh do I HAVE to be in some group to believe something? Like?? These opinions are my own, and those of Jews I know. If you want to say "but you're the wrong kind of Jew and be sure you're not in any official organisation you can't exist" that's between you and them. I agree with some of the stuff broadly from different groups, and disagree with other things. Which is normal in any religion. My parents are Christian, but they don't follow a particularly sect because they broadly agree or disagree with various points. I broadly agree and disagree with various parts of various different religions because I want to be historically accurate. And when I look at the history this is what I get.

Also, bad faith? Look in the mirror. You just called me saying "well Zionists have a historic record of murdering Jews and Israel has committed atrocities and it's been recorded for a long period of time" and claimed that's blood libel. Listen to that, read it out and think for five seconds. You're saying Jews can't be treated as people, held accountable for an ideology that has ZERO to do with actual Jewishness, then turn around and straight up make shit up and think I'd actually believe you. Do I look that naive? When you go and say "this thing about adults who are far right neo Nazis, now advocating for white supremacist ideals and killing people" and say that is l comparable to the lie of "Jews steal children and sacrifice them", I'm going to stare at you like you're goddamn insane. Especially after you just made up the whole thing about Palestinians (which ones, the Jews?? The Muslims?? The Christians??) apparently kill Jewish children regularly. That's what blood libel actually is, saying "these people deserve death because they're rabid and kill children". Like what you just said about Palestinians, and again aren't saying which ones. Do you mean the Jewish ones? The Christians? The Muslims? The ones with ties back to Judea or the North African? Which race do you want to label as stealing children? Which religion? Be specific in your hate at least.

But yeah, nah, I guess maybe other person has a point. Zionists are hateful and obviously can't tolerate shit from anyone fuck immigrants, fuck indigenous Australians and fuck Jews who disagree. I'll be sure to let my friends know. Oh and maybe I should let history itself know since, again, this is something you can literally find recorded, but that's just history books lying to you I guess? Since that's the assumption here I suppose.

Anyway, if you hate me that much, you could have blocked. I am not responsible for a public post of yours that spreads misinformation. The OG one I agree with, I came on here saying I agree with it. After that? It's about Zionism, not Judaism, so don't you come on here pretending I hate anyone besides those who disregard human life such as those who advocate for a colonial entity that has a history of massacres much too similar to the ones people like me faced from Australians.

dear jumblr: STOP LOOKING DOWN ON AND CONDESCENDING TO CONVERTS.

this includes saying “ofc converts don’t notice antisemitism.” or “they’re a convert, they don’t know any better.”

i really don’t think a lot of you realize how many converts don’t reveal they are converts because of this kind of behavior. my own patrilineal convert parent refuses to publicly, not because they are excluded, but because of the condescension. the way converts are basically patted on the head even if they have ancestry, are patrilineal, were raised in a jewish environment, etc. or have none of these at all.

if converts are equals to you, treat them that way. most gerim learned more during their process than many of us learn in hebrew school, let alone what most secular “born” jews learn throughout their lives. so yes, converts DO spot antisemitism. they DO know things. and there isn’t an excuse for them to be bigoted, to spread lies about our people, or to side with our enemies or to otherwise harm their community. just like there isn’t an excuse for any other jew to do so.

you are not being open minded or accepting thinking and talking this way. you are actually engaging in exclusion and separation. you’re looking down on converts instead of treating them like they have equal standing.

if a convert doesnt know something or does display bad behavior? call them in instead of making excuses for them. treat them like equals, because that is what they are.

#literally stop playing the victim when you're here using far right talking points lol #and acting this entitled #just block if you don't want to see my comments its a public post??#one that I initially agreed with here I just am anti zionist which somehow changes that in your peanut brain #literally what do you want; me to come over and block me for you ?#and okay sure I accidentally switched to begin with since I was posting a thing in my public one but seriously?#you've been continuing this for a WHILE and could have blocked any moment #but chose not to #and now you're whining about someone disagreeing with you maybe look in the mirror but I'm starting to think that's impossible for you all

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pandoramusicbox · 2 years ago

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Round two! And this time around with groups form the continent of aukiljir

So: some disclaimers, this was all for silliness and boredom. Each of these creatures is not evil or considered evil by me, but I chose them by either 1. A large population of other cultures or creatures considered them evil in the setting. 2. The three times I have played a dnd homebrew in this setting the players assumed they where evil. (I will note whitch one).

Finally for some of these points I needed to squint to put them on the bingo.So, now I’ll be offering insight about each one of these creatures and why I included them.

Aukiljir

Inilskan snake cult: not a race but an organization, though initiated members have a very specific look too them. Red glowing eyes. They can be of any other race or ethnic group from the central hemisphere. (Later the world. They are a WIP so some things may change down the line.(reason 1)

—evil by nature: I got to hand it to this group, it’s one of the few groups that can fall into this category, that is because a lot of the members of this group seek to become evil. A lot of of thier final goal involves becoming a demon. They are a quite manipulative group and target those at their lowest (idk maybe like cults do) and convince them to follow this oh so charismatic guy. They are quite a force to be deal with in the region. Also not every member of the cult is evil, the cult is made up of a lot of different people.

— poisoners: this cult dose actually specializes in certain crafts and wares (like cults do) and are known for developing a lot of potent potions and drugs. Also use poison as a ritual element.

— worship an evil god: so a bit complicated, one of the most common deities worship in the world is the deity of evjufor, the eternal harbor, who just so happens to be a snake deity. This has resulted in a lot of other snake deities being worshiped, either in reverence of evjufor, as thier offspring or chosen successors or trying to convince people they are evjufor reborn. Deities like nova the white fire snake, calipso the magic snake, or quetalon the snake deity of the wind. Ikelsun the golden traitor is one such deity, he is an evil snake deity who gives powers to those who worship him and snakes, he is the god of poisons and treachery and is the one the snake cult pays reverence too, he is not the founder of the cult, as it was founded by ambi, a girl with light blue hair and Red eyes and her increased capacity for homocide. She just asked him for his services after founding the group. There is also an off shoot of the cult that don’t worship the god Ikelsun and instead adhere to the philosophy set forth by the founder. ( the snake cult is essentially the yuanti from dnd, but not that either as they are a group of individuals who chose the cult or where tricked into it, instead of a race of snake people)

— POC coded: ah yes this one, no excuses for this one, so that being noted most of them are from alunjas, iniskan, and the iles of heaven as that is simply where the cult started and have most of thier influence. These places take a good deal of thier influence from Asia, India and the Caribbean/ Mediterranean. But at the same time the cult is not limited to being there it’s less common in southern scalipia as they delt with the demon choir years ago,so they have less tolerance for demon making cults, but in the sea states and cape of death there are some sects and also in the north.

—matriarchy is evil: despite having a masculine god that they worship, they are a matriarchal cult, most common target is wemon and especially witches but that’s not nessesarly a requirement. Wemon presenting people often take a large role in the cult and are the preachers of sorts. Also notibly there are rarely people born into the cult (like cults do) but are not expected to take part in certain rituals and milestones until an older age, though the cult tends to separate the parents from thier children. Many children tend to leave the cult as they get older, but other sects work differently.

— saidists: a lot of them are demons, especially in the upper ranks. And a lot of demons often have violent tendencies, There’s also a common ideology within the cult that demons are the path to salvation.

— hated for good reason: they are known for thier immense capacity for violence. The cult is not very big, with few members but a wide reach.

— evil animal as symbol: snake cult, somewhat self explanatory

—naturally emotionally unstable: deals with the fact they often try to become or are demons, they target people at their worst and then through gaslighting and manipulation seek to keep them there.

Tengu: tengu are a kind of angelic known for thier dark colored wings (browns and blacks are common) they live mainly on alunjas (reason 1)

— structured in tribes: yes, the tengu are infact structured in different clans that they swear alegance too and consider part of thier family. A lot of tengu are migratory during most of the year but in the fall when the weather gets colder they will return to the fortress of thier clan. Children usually have the same clan as thier parents but not always and not all tengu have a clan, some just migrate all year around and some do not migrate at all.

— “evil” counterpart to another: so tengu are considered corrupted by the stone tree Angelics and other angelics with the same worldview as them, but that being said the tengu also considers the stone tree angelics corrupted right in return. The stone tree angelics value purity and see black spots on feathers as a blight to thier cloud like purity, along with other discolorations, the tengu think of white as the color of death and bones so believe in turn that a lot of the white wings are worshiping death and decay, also there’s a history of the tengu being driven out of thier homelands by them back during the eytrothan empire. Conclusion they are both ass-hats, that keep perpetuating thier own cycle of misunderstandings and anger and the ink wing angelics are just stuck in the middle of both of them.

— prefer night and dark: so fun fact about angelics, they can’t see during the night, they have extremely poor night vision (but excellent bright vision) same thing applies to most harpies, griffons and grips. So tengu can not fly at night, but they have a preference for darker asthetics.

—POC coding: they are based on the tengu yokai, so that says what it says, in fact some of the tengu clans wear and carry masks and there are two kinds, the bird face and the man’s face that has a long nose. One clan say they wear them as a show of respect for a man who once lived with them and taught them many skills, another clan says the mask’s hideous appearance wards off evil spirits, another uses them to denote rank of the members of thier clan.

— “evil” animal as symbol: they use crows and ravens as symbols because crows and ravens are cool, also they are based on crows while their cousins are based more on doves.

Núyo (yokai): I didn’t want to simply call them yokai as they are not only inspired by yokai. Though yokai are definitely a big influence. They are limited shapeshifters able to take on a few different forms. (Reason 2)

—structured in tribes: again like with the tengu, the Núyo are structured into clans, these clans are very loose in structure and essentially tell what kind of shapeshifting form you have, specific forms tend to run in certain families but that’s not always a guarantee. The clans may have head households that act as a place to go too for help or as no representatives in politics ,especially among the larger 28, but there is no formal government for them in most places they just live alongside the human kin, and vampires of the regions.

—prefer night/dark: like vampires and ghouls they are most active at dawn and dusk.

—POC coding: I’m not getting away from this one, this time around, fantasy Asia has fantasy Asians, they are based on yokai but are not only found on aukiljir, they are found in southwestern julner and far eastern scalipia, ( where they are sometimes not POC) as well as in the circle of heaven. They don’t have the widest range as creatures but they are still around to wreak havoc.

—government categorized by backstabbing and treachery: so I did just say they don’t have a government, and that is still true. They do not have a formal one, but they do still have the head households, and as far as they are concerned there is a lot of drama. As well as a lot of backstabbing and plots to see who’s the next family head or what household is the formal one and so on and so forth. Unless a person is very involved with the households they will not really know or be affected by the internal politics of the houses. Most of the time. Also every house is structured differently.

Tigiras (Tiger Centaurs): so there are two major kinds of kentaurians, the centaurs; have hooves, and the lamia; have paws. They are the most common kind of lamia in aukiljir, they are known for their striped patterns, they can come in many colors, reds, tawny browns, golden yellows, and oranges of all shades are most common but grays, whites, and even blues are not unheard of. They like most lamia are relatively solitary only forming small groups of 2-4 individuals (compare this to centaurs who form groups of 5–12 individuals on a normal biases) but are notebly less solitary than wildcats, that many of them resemble. (the other lamia tend to resemble hounds or badgers/bears) (reason 1 and 2)

—raiders: a village or town is usually aware if a lamia is living near by. (They rarely live in a village itself, and even among lamia that live In big cities they seem to prefer the outskirts, there of course a lot of exemptions to this, but the former is most common) then it depends on how the lamia in a group where raised and how the town treats them on if they will go into town to trade or if they will simply raid what they need and leave. There is one city state of tigira on the phodo-continent of iniskan that is known for their aggressive raiding tactics but they are just as famous for being excelente merchants that control a large port.

—“evil” counterpart to another race: not evil, just predatory counterpart of the centaurs. Infact a lot of centaurs of all kinds have friends that are lamia, but they are viewed with suspicion among a lot of humanoids due to an old belief that they eat humans, that is why most lamia are extinct on the continent of scalipia even if the lamia are found everywhere else on the central hemisphere.

— prefer dark/night: that’s because at night is when this specific kind of lamia do most of their hunting, they have large bodies and many of them live in tropical to subtropical climates, so they tend to save their strenuous activities to when it’s cooler outside, and they have excellent night vision too boot. This is not the case for other kinds of lamia

—POC coding: I did say that I could not get away from this one on this set of bingo cards, tigers are terrifying and magestic creatures, and the kentaurian version of them carry that same majesty. Also do note that just as how the tigira can have a number of fur colors so can they have skin color and body shapes. This actually goes for all the other groups of people I have listed as well

— matriarchy is evil: so among smaller groups of tigira you will fined that it’s roughly a 50/50 shot of what sex is dominant, (or gender there’s nonbinary and transgender tigers as well) in a group or relationship. Most tigira do not know who their father is (unless the father is in the parents pride) so when asking a tiger lamia who their family is they will usually only track their mothers (also when a pair is looking to hook up for kids they will take special note of each other’s smell behind the ear and stripe patterns, two closely related ones well smell awful to each other, this scent thing is actually a trait found in all kentauruans, though only the elven among humans are able to notice that smell. The stripes are just guess work.) Though in the one city state that the tc are known to have the parliament is made of a mixed group of sexes but the court and rulers tend to be heavily scewed towards women.

— saidists by nature: not denying this one, they’re d to be cruel and mercyless, especially in battle. Most of them like to see fear in thier opponents and will be needlessly cruel when chasing some of thier prey. This tendency is evident even from the time they are kids and is encouraged. But even as they are capable of intense cruelty so are they of great kindness. there are many accounts of the tc finding lost or abandoned children in the woods and becoming caretakers of the children either until the parents find them or the child grows up. They are offten attentive to the other people in thier pride. And those individuals who have dated and married tigira report them to be affectionate if a bit standoffish. And the city state of lim prides itself on its affective and justice based court system.

— hated for a good reason: fear of them as predators and thier odd and seemingly contradictory behavior, they don’t think the same way humans do.

Ghouls: these creatures are closely related to vampires, even having an organ similar to the vampires wings of dread, called an aincorpous. Or red tail (Reason 2)

—prefer dark or night: they are similar to vampires in many ways, so they are nocturnal and also have blue blood.

— POC coded: the highest population of ghouls is found in western aukiljir and in garaqi, gargoraqi is where the equator is. The ones in aukiljir do actually have a lot of more European based inspiration as scalipia can loosely be a Europe analogy (but not really at the same time, it’s complicated) also fun fact; ghouls, much like vampires, have a grayish tint to their skin no matter how dark or light it is otherwise, (ashy looking skin) this is because of the prevelence of the pigment that causes the shades of blue and grey in musicbox, it’s also the reason why when a vampire turns another being (especially among human kin) to a vampire their skin often turns grey, the chemical reaction that changes that will switch on the gene for grey pigment to an extreme if it is already not on. Some vampires don’t have this pigment active and instead have a yellowish tint to their skin due to their blood being blue. (Creatures with the same pigment but with red blood would have a coppery orange or red color to their skin)

#worldbuilding #pandoramusicbox #shitpost #fantasy creature #evil fantasy race #character bingo #bingo #cw cult mention #cw manipulation #cw fantasy racism #centaur #tengu #crow tengu #yokai #ghoul #tiger centaur

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wangxianficfinder · 2 years ago

Text

In the mood for a Fic

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1. So there's been a few times where I've stumbled upon a fic that I wouldn't have normally read/sought out, and ended up really liking it. For the next itmf, what are some fics like that for the other fair readers of this blog, and why did you like it?

The Teenage Girl's Self-Saving System by mercyandmagic (T, 108k, WLJ/WC, WLJ/NMJ, wangxian, LXC/JGY, JYL/JZX, JC/WQ, OC main character, transmigration, everyone’s least fave characer gets character development!) evadingreallife: ‘i'm not a fan of OCs, modern-to-xianxia, self( or any-) inserts, and ofc wang lingjiao, but the premise of this fic was so crack-ish that i just HAD to check it out, and it was a good one in the end´

Let the streetlights guide you home by tellthemstories (M, 37k, wangxian, modern, UST, car racing, Mojo’s bookmark) flamingwell: ‘aka the illegal street racing AU you never knew you needed BUT YOU NEED IT!! Also one of the most *incredible* podfics I've ever listened to’

Spilled Pearls by nirejseki (T, 88k, LQR/WRH, sect leader nie / WRH, slow burn, angst w/ happy ending) Mod L: ‘Aside from all the WIPs I follow I couldnt decide between these three lol For this first one, it’s somewhat difficult for me to grow interested enough to read a fic on pairings and characters I’m neutral about or not fond of. It was really fascinating to read and I liked the exploration of LQR & WRH’s characters in this one.’

The Cloudweavers《云织之者》 by Joythea (T, 38k, wangxian, Madam Lan & OCs, post-canon, OC pov, fluff & angst) Mod L: ‘OCs can be really hit & miss for me and I don’t usually go for fics with OC povs. I loved to read WX’s love from outside and also about madam Lan.’

Diplomatic Incidents by Ariaste (M, wangxian, Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus, dragon age crossover, getting together, linguistics, fluff, post-canon mdzs) Mod L: ‘I generally prefer MXTX crossovers when reading MXTX works. And outside of those, I prefer similarly themed(?) crossovers. But sometimes you feel like exploring and come across a crossover that you didn’t think would work well at all. The differences and similarities between the main pairings were just really nice :’D’

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2. hello! I know this is a wangxian blog mostly but I was just curious if anyone knows any good xuexiao fics? Not ones with heavy angst or unhappy endings. So many xuexiao fics are far too sad for me and I was hoping someone might know some fics that are happier. I just read Misalignment by Kasasagi and was looking for something kind of similar? In that Xue Yang and Xiao Xingchen have a healthy relationship / talk things through and a happy ending. Could be either Canon or modern era. Also please no songxiaoxue. I like song lan but I just want xuexiao fics. Thank you ~~~

The body's way of saying... by Aoshika_October (T, 2k, WIP, XueXiao, Modern AU, Sickfic, Common Cold, Fever, Caretaking, Cuddling & Snuggling, Literal Sleeping Together, Platonic Cuddling, Pre-Relationship, tags will vary depending on the chapter, Idiots in Love, Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, terms of endearment, Self-Indulgent)

3. For the next itmf... are there any fics where wwx doesn't get blamed for everything? Even when people are "on his side" they're calling him stupid and getting mad at him all the time. Yeah he's reckless with his own safety but it's rarely acknowledged that he was literally raised to be that way? And that kind of mentality and upbringing takes a lot to break free from, and yelling at someone for it isnt exactly helpful. And the Lans are always written as being mad at wwx for not realizing lwj was in love with him when there really was no way wwx could have clued into that pre-resurrection? Are there any fics that just... point out how cruel that kind of treatment is? That call people out for ALWAYS blaming wwx even when it's not really his fault?

golden when the day met the night by glitteringmoonlight (Not Rated, 82k, WIP, WangXian, Canon, Slow-ish burn, Sugar Daddy LWJ, Light Angst, Fluff, Developing Relationship, warprize au with a twist, Eventual Smut)

The Young Masters of Four Seasons Manor by gaotamao (G, 91k, WenZhou, WangXian, WOH Crossover, Time Regression, fix-it, WKX raises monstrous sons, Not Jiang Sect Friendly, No Golden Core Transfer) x-over with WoH, but even if you're not familiar with WoH it's worth a read just for the great outsider POV of WWX and LWJ's lives

The Chinese Garden Court by deliciousblizzardshark (T, 5k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, Reincarnation, Immortality, Museums)

The Return Series by LtLJ (G, 63k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Yunmeng Brothers Reconciliation, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF WWX, BAMF JC, breaks from canon during the time skip, YL WWX, CQL Canon, BAMF LWJ, BAMF NHS, Hurt/Comfort, WQ Lives)

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4. mdzs prompts/ looking for

idea originated from a fic I hope that you will come and meet me by feyburner

"I will, I'll sleep here every night. Do you understand? If Lan Zhan wants me to, I will. If Lan Zhan wants me in his bed, that's where I am. If Lan Zhan wants me gone, then I'm gone"

idea: what if lan zhan did want wei ying to be gone or disappear? seems impossible but i want it (ʘᗩʘ’) @ner-u

Does anyone even read work titles? idk what to call this by Nighttdust (M, 14k, WangXian, Curses, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Established Relationship,Post-Canon, Happy Ending, Protective WWX, Insecurity)

the ugly truth by reidviolet (T, 3k, wangxian, modern, heavy angst, breaking up, sad WWX, losing interest, sad ending)

Anginal Equivalents by fakeplasticlily (E, 23k, wangxian, modern, medical residents au, childhood friends, pining, oblivious WWX, sexual content)

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5. For the next In The Mood For post I'd really like to see… anyone's favorite fics with Wei Wuxian in peril! Of course he's very capable and powerful, but everybody needs help sometimes. Would like to see WWX in danger and have someone ride to his rescue -- Lan Wangji is a fav of course, but even better would be Wen Ning, or Jiang Cheng or the juniors, or anyone else who cares about Wei Wuxian. @mikkeneko

Story-Shaped by lingering_song (T, 13k, WangXian, NHS & WWX, Post-Canon, Chief Cultivator LWJ, Inventor WWX, Found Family, Mentioned Character Death, Alcohol, Protective NHS, WangXian Endgame, Not JC Friendly, Not particularly gentry sects friendly overall tbh) NHS does the rescuing in his own way

some good mistakes by Lise (T, 18k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Post-Canon, Road trips, rescue Missions, Hurt/Comfort, Awkward Conversations, Yunmeng Bros Reconciliation, [Podfic] some good mistakes by kisahawklin ) WWX goes missing, Jiang Cheng and LWJ team up to find him. The focus is on all the Emotions that team up brings up, but very much does include a dramatic rescue scene

In The Dark Right Now by phnelt (T, 10k, WangXian, JC & LWJ, JC & WWX, graphic depictions of injuries, trapped in a cave, Near Death Experience, fatalistic thinking, established wangxian, Family Feels, Nobody dies in this fic, Modern AU, Hurt/Comfort) the one where wy and jc are trapped in a cave in- lz on the radio

just as the stories say by TheDameJudiWench (T, 11k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, Medical Procedures, some gore, Yunmeng brothers feelings, Family Dynamics, Attempted Murder, Injury Recovery, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Established Relationship, Happy Ending, Found Family, POV Outsider, Revenge, Grief/Mourning, Forgiveness, Whump, Near Death Experiences) the one where a young girl tries to murder the yiling laozu and almost succeeds

See Me, Feel Me (Listening to You) by Ghost_Honey (T, 29k, WangXian, Junior Quartet, POV WWX, WWX Needs a Hug, WWX's Abyssmal Self-Esteem, Emotional Healing, Angst, Curses, WWX is an Unreliable Narrator, Yunmeng Bros Reconciliation, The Angst is Mainly Emotional, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Platonic Cuddling) the one where wy is cursed so he can’t see or feel anyone who feels strongly about him and assumes this means that the people he cares about actually hate him

Something at the Door by Pip (Moirail) (E, 50k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, Modern Cultivation, background 3zun, Background Yi City trio, Intrusive Thoughts, Horror, Suicidal Thoughts, Temporary Character Death, Blood, Explicit Sexual Content, Mutual Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, Mystery, Urban Fantasy) wwx has a horror-flavored bad time - mostly lwj helping, with a dash of jc for spice

medium blues by darkterrible (E, 193k, WangXian, Horror, Spooky, Opposites Attract, Fluff and Angst, Gore, Ghosts, Necromancy) WWX requires rescuing on a frequent basis

Inkstone by PorcelainBlue (T, 7k, WangXian) an AU that begins with the Twin Jades and some juniors coming to the rescue of Artist! WWX

heroic aftermath by Last_For_Hell (T, 5k, WangXian, Aftermath of Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Hurt WWX, Guilt, References to WWX’s Cynophobia, Implied Sexual Content) the Juniors are caring for a critically-injured WWX (he got mauled by a pack of dog yao!), feeding him spiritual energy in relays until LWJ arrives.)

The Losses and Gains Remain Uncommented On by caesteves (Not Rated, 7k, WangXian, WWX & LXC, Married Couple, Post-Canon, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt WWX, Worried LWJ, Case Fic, (sort of), Alcohol, Hurt/Comfort)

Don't Hold Too Much in Your Heart by caesteves (Not Rated, 13k, WangXian, LSZ & WWX, Post-Canon, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Hurt WWX, Worried LWJ, Fluff, Accidents, Concussions)

transitory by lao_you_tiao (E, 5k, WangXian, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Date Rape Drug/Roofies, Post-Canon, Porn with Feelings) LWJ rescues a drunken and roofied WWX from a would-be rapist

Cotton Wool ch 5 and Hubris by incendir, the same story from LWJ’s and WWX’s POV respectively, both by incendir; LWJ comes to rescue WWX from an attempted rape by prior harassers. (WWX has been doing a devastating job of self-defense, but is injured, dissociating, and in need of talking down and comforting.)

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6. hi! this blog is such an amazing resource for people like me (bad at using ao3) and thank you guys for the work you do!! sorry if this has been answered, but do you know of any fics that are about a-qing? not as a background or side character but as the/a focus of the fic. brave and clever a-qing :,(

The sparrow's curious song by Mhalachai (T, 13k, NHS & A-Qing, adoption, A-Qing gets happy ending, NHS’ revenge plotting) NHS, intrigued by the clever street rat who picked his pocket, recruits AQ as a disciple

stare at the sun by chomrafy (Not rated, 2k, A-Qing & QS, A-Qing & JRS, canon divergence, fluff, light angst, family feels, everyone lives au, or at least A-Q & QS live) AQ is taken in as a babysitter by QS, who has run away with JRS to live incognito in Yi City

despite it all by novalotypo (T, 292k, wangxian, canon divergence, god of luck WWX, memory loss, non-linear narrative, WIP) WWX, ascended as a God of Luck, takes AQ as his First Disciple

walk with me (I think we'll find a way) by bringsnofear (T, 9k, SL/XXC, AQ & SL, AQ & XXC, hurt/comfort, mute SL, XXC lives, blind XXC, AQ lives, reunions, yi city fix-it) with A-Qing as the main character

Covered By Frost and Snow by Siamesa (T, 44k, wangxian, canon divergence, outsider POV, canon-typical violence, grief/mourning, disabled character, angst & humor, male-female friendship, families of choice, not everyone dies au, major character injury, rabbits, female friendship, WIP)

someone will remember us by captain_apostrophe, MonocerosRex (M, 39k, ChengQing, MingQing, Fluff, yunmeng siblings, Family Feels, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, he gets thoroughly trounced dw, Lan Yi did nothing wrong, mianmian is a rare Functional Bisexual, Canon Schmanon, previous generation, Blood, Violence, Guns, Cowboys, jgs gets what he deserves, MDZS Women Appreciation Weeks) a would-be rapist learns not to fuck with poor defenseless little blind girls.

Fractured - yet unbroken by ThetenthtenbeingofTen (G, <1k, OYZZ/OFC, wangxian, post-canon, yi-city, OYZZ getting married, reincarnation) AQ is reborn to OYZZ and his OC wife as twin girls, one blind and one mute (her soul having been fragmented); they become personal disciples to LWJ and WWX.

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7. mdzs prompts/ looking for

lwj and wwx having secret relationship (cloud recess study age?? or maybe older, anything is fine) and wwx died or got into a comma. their relationship only got known after wwx died/comatose @ner-u

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8. Hi!!! Thanks for everything yall do for us 1st off. Secondly, for the next itmf do yall know of any fics where one part of a couple and 1 half is reincarnated in modern times? I love this kind of fic and have only read a couple (throughline by lunatea and all old things are new again by the feels whale come to mind) especially the intensity of when the reincarnated person gets all their memories back! @curlytopped

the recluse at the end of the moonlit path by b_ofdale (T, 29k, wangxian, modern, reincarnation au, post-canon, immortal LWJ, jack of all trades artist WWX, pining, light angst, reunions, hurt/comfort, implied sexual content, asexual character, good vibes, Mojo’s post)

🧡 The World We Made by updatebug (T, 80k, WangXian, The Old Guard fusion, Immortals, Immortal LWJ, Angst with a Happy Ending, Reincarnation, Modern AU, The Old Guard AU, Temporary Character Death)

I will wait by shadowchan93 (T, <1k, wangxian, major character death, post-canon, immortal LWJ, bittersweet, angst, grief, sadness, not super sad ending but not a happy one either)

Yiling Poltergeist by jaemyun (G, 16k, WangXian, Modern AU, Mention of canon history, Ghost! Wwx, Past Lives, Reincarnation, Humor, Fluff)

Thirty-three Lashes by Winglesss (E, 56k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Modern with Magic, Immortality, Reincarnation, Case Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Nightmares, Ghosts, Curses, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Major Character Injury, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, Memory Loss)

🧡We Were Never Strangers by NeverEnoughWangxian (M, 36k, WangXian, Reincarnation, Modern AU, POV WWX, (mostly), College Student WWX, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Immortal LWJ, Immortal LSZ, Dreams, Pining, Sharing a Bed, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Sexual Tension, Sexual Content)

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9. Hello Lovely Mods! Thank you so much for all you do. I was wondering for the next I'm In The Mood For - if you could suggest any fics where voice cultivation is explored/used. I read a fic where Jingyi learned it, but I'd be happy with anyone. It was such a cool premise that I find myself wanting more. Thanks in advance 😁 @ommited-miscellaneously

Tumblr comic by @lee-luca may have originated the idea of LJY studying vocal cultivation.

Please Take This Radish by Wildcard (M, 7k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Bad Parenting, not abusive parenting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Comedy, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Dysfunctional Family, demonic radishes, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, For Want of a Nail, Temporary Character Death, Mistaken Identity, musical cultivation) has Xue Yang following Wen Ning home to the burial mounds, where he becomes wwx's 'disciple' (or the teen gets forcibly adopted by the entire village) and learns voice cultivation from wwx. really REALLY good wip au of burial mound days/first siege of burial mounds

Running up that hill by Lhaewiel (M, 9k, WangXian, XuanLi, ChengQing, Canon Divergence, Angst, Drama, Tumblr Link) sorry to answer a Mood request with a Fic Finder request, but I seem to recall a Tumblr fic (illustrated with photos taken from other of the actors’ roles) in which all three Yunmeng Jiang Siblings were musical demonic cultivators: WWX of course played the dizi, JYL played the pipa, and JC sang.

These bright and violent delights by worrystone (G, 15k, XiCheng, ZhanCheng, ChengXian, ChengYao, ChengJue, JC/Everyone, Demonic Cultivator JC, Role Reversal, what if jc had fallen off the cliff instead?, Angst, Ambiguous/Open Ending, read warnings girlies don't say i didn't warn you) role reversal; Yiling Laozu! JC uses vocal musical demonic cultivation

Mending the Pieces by JustAWanderingBabbit (G, 98k, 3zun, post-canon, reincarnation) the Jin Rusong of JustAWanderingBabbit’s stories is a vocal musical cultivator, notably in third-generation fic Mending the Pieces

Different Paths to the Same Route by JustAWanderingBabbit (T, 184k, WangXian, 3Zun, Canon Divergence, What-If, Implied Necrophilia, At least they're talking now, Medicical science in a cultivational world, Magical Genetic Testing, Family Issues) chapter 23 has him being tutored by Lan Jingyi (who thus gets to be a cool Shixiong.)

Gift by Befallings (G, 403, WWX & LXC, Bunnies as a cure to Sadness, Seclusion is Stupid, Light Angst, Angst and Feels, Family Bonding) WWX proposes vocal cultivation to LXC (during Bunny Therapy) as a musical path for LJY

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10. Y’all I read a threadfic and now I’ve got a craving. I’m in the mood for stories where the Lan brothers aren’t on good terms. Specifically after Wei Wuxian’s death and the ensuing 16 years, but I’ll take whatever I can get. I just want some Lan family angst 🥰

恩仇仙人- Enchou xianren (Immortal Avenger) by AshayaTReldai (E, 133k, WIP, WangXian, Angst, Mental Anguish, Pining, Revenge, Execution, internalinter-clan politics, Reincarnation, TGCF notions of ascension and deity, WWX/LWJ marriage, First Time, Post-LWJ whipping, Injury Recovery, Issues of justice, Torture, Not friendly to the Clans - they all get their comeuppance, Hurt/Comfort, Dark LWJ, novel compliant characterisation)

kick at the darkness 'til it bleeds daylight by AlfAlfAlfAlfAlf, tardigradeschool (T, 75k, WangXian, Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Eventual Happy Ending, Getting Together, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Inspired by The Parent Trap (1998), Kid Fic, teen shenanigans, two a-yuans, Angst, Fluff) is not the main focus but I really liked the Lan brothers relationship in kick at the darkness 'til it bleeds daylight

Bitter Recompense by mondengel (M, 1k, LXC & LWJ, Angst)

to arrive late is better than not to arrive at all by Moominmammashandbag (M, 34k, WangXian, Angst with a Happy Ending, Soulmates, Chronic Illness, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Hanahaki Disease, but as a curse, Feelings Realization, obsession with interior design, Fluff and Smut, Family Angst, sibling angst, Wedding, Motion Sickness, sect politics, Marriage Proposal)

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11. Hi!! Lately I've read one fic with JC and LXC being a couple and I liked it! So for the next "I'm in a mood for" I'd like recommendations of fic with JC and LXC falling in love, arranging marriage, etc. With Wangxian too, please. I don't mind witch couple is the main one, but I'd love to read fics with this two couples. Happy Endings please! Thank you!! 😊 (If you can find fics that happens when JC and Wangxian were teenagers it'd be awesome!)

Even the Sunlight Pierces to the Bone by OrdinaryRealities (T, 16k, JC/LXC, 2nd in series, post-canon, 5+1, cooking as a form of friendship, relationship based on friendship, working through trauma together, good uncle JC, communication, listening, JGY was a friend and a villain)

smells like teen spirit by TheWanderingHeart (G, 6k, JC/LXC, JC & WWX, ABO, cloud recesses study era, fluff & humor, courtship, omega JC, alpha LXC, puberty, scents & smells)

Utterly Inevitable by sami (M, 20k, XiCheng, WangXian, Family, Angst with a Happy Ending, Depression, Self-Worth Issues, References to Canonical Character Death, Recovery, Character Study, Established Relationship, Getting Together, Marriage, Yunmeng Shuangjie Reconciliation, Post-Canon)

And Time Is But a Paper Moon by sami (M, 138k, WangXian, XiChengQing, Time Travel, Fix-It, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Healing, Mental Health Issues, PTSD, Hurt/Comfort, Depression, BAMF WWX, BAMF JC, BAMF LWJ, BAMF JYL, Getting Together) If you don’t mind poly I rec this one.

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12. hello lovely mods, does anyone know if this has this been done for wangxian as a crossover? bc idk about y'all but this screams wangxian vibes to me. just imagine! lwj as the cleric and wwx as the disguised mxy on the run bc of fear of rejection just does it for me lol (bonus points if lwj actually was the cleric who did the reviving but wwx doesn't know that) @xiaokuer-schmetterling

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13. HI Mods! Do you happen to know of any story where at some point, JC gets all pissed at JGY bc he's trying to turn Yunmeng Jiang into Yunmeng "Meng"?

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14. Hello! for ITMF, are there any fics where wwx dies before/during the sunshot campaign? thank you in advance!

You still sound like a song by Moominmammashandbag (M, 64k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Ghost!WWX, Mystery, LWJ plays inquiry, AU from after the Wens came to Lotus Pier, Most people lived, not everybody died, Angst with a Happy Ending, river spirit!WWX, Angst and Feels, description of murder, imminent smut, Execution, Dogs, Poisons, Discussion of Attempted Murder, BAMF WWX, Family Feels) He dies when the Wens attack Lotus Pier

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15. Hello there!I am in the mood for angsty fic like:

Novel canon, post whip punishment, injured LWJ is able to meet WWX prior the first siege, yet the siege still happen and LWJ witness WWX’s death as in novel version. (NOT falling from a cliff as in CQL)

I am relying on you! Thank you in advance! @yellowridge

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16. Hi. I'm not sure if you're still taking these but I'm in a mood for wangxian fic where wwx is madly in love with lwj but thinks his love is unrequited as lwj always looks conflicted when he has to interact with wwx. What he doesn't know is that lwj is equally in love with him if not more and is just a dork who's bad at emotions.

All at Once It's You by tiptoe39 (E, 28k, wangxian, accidental bonding, love curse, no plot happens au, wens are not evil, gusu lan summer school, internalized homophobia)

💖 Pentimento. by orange_crushed (E, 73k, wangxian, modern, college/university au, art conservation, museums, pining, not actually unrequited love, angst w/ happy ending, misunderstandings, smut, major character injury, hospitalization, hurt/comfort, past incarceration, forgery)

the earthquake in the room by phnelt (E, 39k, WangXian, Modern AU, College AU, Canada, Getting Together, Mentions of lwj/others background NieLan, background WQ/MM, inter-faculty romance, Strangers to lovers to frenemies to lovers)

Fervid as a Flame by snowkatze (T, 5k, wangxian, modern, getting together, first kiss, pining, insecurity, misunderstandings, not actually unrequited love, angst w/ happy ending)

Anginal Equivalents by fakeplasticlily (E, 23k, wangxian, modern, medical residents au, childhood friends, pining, oblivious WWX, sexual content) (link in #4)

Straight at the Sun by diamondbruise (E, 33k, WangXian, Canon Universe, no war though, Mutual Pining, Pining while fucking, Misunderstandings, First Time, Anal Sex, wwx desperately wants lwj’s attention, lwj desperately wants to marry wwx, Miscommunication, Jealousy, in abundance, Happy Ending) kinda

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17. Hi! Thank you so much for this blog and all your hard work! For your next iitmf, do you know any fics where JC deals with drug taking/addiction/getting clean? I don't mind where the fic is set, just no JC bashing! Thank you!

the long way back home by Misila (E, 210k, WIP, WangXian Yunmeng Siblings, Family, Romance, Heavy Angst, Hopeful Ending, JC-centric, Dysfunctional Family, Abuse, Mental Health Issues, Suicide Themes, Recovery, Additional Warnings In Author’s Note) i think it is implied in this one, my memory is kinda bad though😅

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If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

#mdzs #the untamed #wangxian #wangxianficfinder #wangxian fic recs #i'm in the mood for a fic #wangxian fic search #long post

122 notes · View notes

flautistsandpeonies · 3 years ago

Text

To Respect a Scholar

Read my Prompt [Here]

You can also read this on my Wordpress.

Tags: Wei WuXian Canon Genius, WangXian, not for JC fans, JC Canon Characteristics, JC’s Canon Homophobia, Author!WWX

Word Length: 5,648

Time to Read: 30 Minutes

Wei Wuxian was dead.

There were many emotions that Lan Qiren was feeling at that statement. Relief was the most prominent one,as the greatest threat their way of life was gone. Dread was a lesser feeling, at the thought of the discussion conferences to come, what claims people would make to what remained of the Yiling Patriarch and his inventions, but that could not be helped.

However.

He never expected to feel angry.

It had been another long day of teaching. This year’s batch of students were lacking in many areas of cultivation and he was considering writing to their sect leaders and families about ousting the current mentors they had available and choosing persons better suited to the job.

Some of them couldn’t even name their founder’s for goodness sake!

It was nearly curfew and Lan Qiren had long settled into his home, having fixed himself a pot of black tea to calm his nerves and relaxed into his common room with a few scrolls and books at his side.

The first book was a work of fiction, the image of a person with their back to the cover dressed in white and silver robes, a tall, elegant guan in their hair, and their spiritual sword- a shining silver blade with a seafoam green sheath embellished with tiny birds and tree branches stood atop a mountain peak overlooking a small, worn-down village. On the character’s shoulder was an owl, a black, demonic thing with wisps of evil flowing from its tail feathers.

It was titled: The Lost Pearl of Niu Village by Wei Wuxian

It was a tale of an older brother searching for his stepsister. Having been accused of being a sorceress at the age of seventeen, the young girl, Feng Yun, ran away from home in fear of execution. The protagonist, Gao Han, was already training to become a cultivator at the time and tried to vouch for his sister’s innocence, but went unheard. Years later, when his training is finished, he takes on the life of a rogue in order to find his long lost sister.

At first, he was a little more than apprehensive at reading anything that that boy had written, having long heard of his tales of debauchery and his many vices. However, he stilled himself, taking a deep breath to remind himself that he had dealt with Wei Wuxian at his most rowdiness and could handle anything the adult version threw at him.

He treated the book as he would any other, taking in its plot and themes, doing his best to understand what metaphors the author had made towards certain moments. He even found his lips upturning at the growth the characters within the story underwent. He was so interested that he barely remembered the pot of tea waiting to be consumed beside him. However, as he continued on through the chapters he also couldn’t help but become angrier and angrier.

‘What a waste!, ‘he found himself thinking, ‘What a waste of a great mind!’

It wasn’t as if he didn’t know that Wei Wuxian was intelligent; the boy was just as knowledgeable as his youngest nephew- ‘perhaps even more so’ part of his mind whispered to him as the piles of cultivation manuals found inside Wei Wuxian’s den surfaced in his mind.

Shaking his head, Lan Qiren continued on with the tale, getting more intrigued with the story and even more angrier at the person who had wrote it.

“Truly a waste, “Lan Qiren grumbled as he lit another candle as the first one flickered out

If anyone was to ask why a candle was burning in his home all night, Lan Qiren would ask them why they were out after curfew.

It had been a year since Wei WuXian died.

And Lan Qiren was annoyed.

It had taken many months, but the elders of the Jin Sect were finally able to get through some of the locking arrays Wei WuXian had put on all of his manuals. The most prominent of the few were the schematics to the Stygian Lure Flag and the Demon Wind Compass. With them, the Jin Sect quickly gathered their most talented weavers and metal workers to create and put the items up for sale for the entire cultivation and civilian worlds.

Lan Qiren was one of the first to receive a compass, and as he eyed the intricate detailing and sigils carved into the sidings and needles, he became angry at Wei WuXian once more.

‘What a waste of a great mind!,’he thought

But that wasn’t the reason he was annoyed.

“But if you really think about it, the Demon Wind Compass isn’t all that useful, is it? I mean, it only gives you a rough estimation of where the creatures are, and it doesn’t tell you how strong it is either, so you really don’t know what you’re up against.”

The time for the guest disciples to leave the Cloud Recesses had come, and their parents had come to get them. For days now, Lan Qiren had had to sit through multiple meetings with sect leaders giving them his personal reports on what their children needed to do in order to excel in their learning.

It was midday now, and most of the Cloud Recesses had settled into the dining hall for lunch, guests included. Many still awaited in line, having their chance to chat before they had to abide by the rule of “No talking while dining”.

Standing near the entrance were a couple of AnpingRong disciples, talking about the newest cultivation tool.

Lan Qiren felt a tick forming on his forehead as the young man continued to flippantly talk down about the device that he had personally seen save civilian lives from certain doom and alert cultivators to danger in their midst.

Lan Qiren couldn’t help but speak.

“It is well known that notes for a second version of the Demon Wind Compass was underway long before the Siege on the Burial Mounds. If one wants a more accurate compass, then one should read the Yiling Laozu’s notes and attempt to create it yourself.”

The two Rong disciples flinched and snapped their heads in his direction. At the sight of his unimpressed eyes, the young disciples shivered and immediately took back what he said.

“Ah-ah, Lan-Laoshi, this one has spoken too much it seems. I apologize for this one’s arrogance. Wei WuXian was truly thoughtful to leave such an invention behind.”

With a bow, the two disciples hurried along to the food line while Lan Qiren stood in the doorway watching their every move.

Despite fears that the Yiling Patriarch would return, Wei Wuxian was still dead.

And Lan Qiren was agitated.

While the Lan Sect hadn’t sent as half as many disciples as the Jiang and a quarter of the Jin, to the Siege of the Burial Mounds they still sent enough to be recognized for their efforts. When the Jin claimed all of Wei Wuxian’s texts on Diabolism and Jiang Wanyin took Chenqing, the Lan and Nie were given the chance to take what they were owed.

Being a clan known for their predilections towards literature and music, the Lan of course secured as many music, fiction, and poetry books as they could.

They’d taken the texts and built a side room on the pavilion dedicated to them, shelving them on dark blue shelves and putting cleaning and banishment talismans all around the room along with the typical fire-resistant talismans of the rebuilt library.

But that wasn’t why he was agitated.

“What in the world is this chicken scratch?! You’d think the Yiling Patriarch could at least write; I mean my four year old cousin can write better than this.”

Two Lan disciples-two juniors no less- sat in the middle of the Diabolism Archive, sets of books in between them. One, a peachy eyed young man looked at their friend with wide eyes as the other scowled down at the books on hand.

Lan Qiren himself was visiting the library to head to this exact archive. He was looking for the second volume of The Good Lord’s Concubine, another one of Wei Wuxian’s fiction novels.

“Ugh, this is useless, i can barely even read it, “the Lan junior threw the book to the ground in a fit of frustration

Lan Qiren had little patience for the visiting disciples of the sect not taking proper care of the texts within the library pavilion, so one can imagine how he felt about this.

“It is a known strategy, “the two juniors stood so quickly that you’d thought they’d been stuck with pins, “for a writer to get down information as quickly as possible, no matter how the writing looks, as to not lose any thoughts. They will later rewrite those words into more elegant texts, “Lan Qiren stood in the doorway like a judge, jury, and executioner

“Lan-Laoshi, “the two shivered uncontrollably

“We have multiple of Wei Wuxian’s texts that show that his calligraphy is near perfect. The Yiling Patriarch was working on multiple inventions by himself and would have had even less time to rewrite his works, “Lan Qiren’s eyes narrowed, “As he is dead, you can understand that these are the only versions we will ever have of his work…unless you wish to rewrite it yourself?”

One of the boys started to shake their head rapidly, “No, no senior. We…we ourselves are only beginning to understand talismans. To try and rewrite Yiling Laozu’s work and be able to put it into an understandable form is….”

He didn’t have to finish.

Lan Qiren huffed, “For almost damaging intellectual property you will copy “Etiquette” fifteen times, am I clear?”

The boys let out a “Yes, Lan-Laoshi” while nodding their head solemnly.

Not sparing the boys another glace, Lan Qiren walked to the shelf containing the second volume of his current fancy.

...

Wei Wuxian was alive.

And Lan Qiren…..didn’t know how to feel about that.

He knew he still didn’t like Wei Wuxian. Didn’t want to see him, didn’t want to hear him, didn’t want anyone else in the Cloud Recesses to have to deal with him.

“Do not go near Wei Ying.” He’d carved the rule into the stone just days after Wangji returned from eloping with his husband

But at the same time….

Wei Wuxian was barely seen around the Cloud Recesses; he could still be heard at some points however. He spent a lot of time in the Library Pavilion, as he learned from a couple of passing seniors, time to the point where his life was split into three activities: 1. Corrupting the youth who were ignoring the rules, 2. Further corrupting his youngest nephew, and 3. Doing heaven knows what inside the Library Pavilion.

A few of the elders had came to him with concerns about the matter.

“What if he’s inside the Room of Forbidden Books?, “Elder Lan Jiao-long groused to him while pulling at their sleeves, a nervous tick of theirs

“We should tighten security, who knows what he could be thinking up?, “Lan Fai urged him

Lan Qiren tugged at his beard, “I will see to him; be at ease.”

At that, the two smiled and said no more, knowing that he had little tolerance for the Yiling Patriarch as it was, and bowed before continuing on with their day.

He had a bit of time before his next class, so he hurried along the paths towards the library pavilion, certain that Wei Wuxian would be there.

By the time he got there, most of the disciples had long cleared out, more than likely going to prepare for their next class. He eyed with displeasure some of the books and scrolls which had been left thrown any which way on the tables, and made a mental note to talk to the class about their behavior. Righting the texts, he continued on through the building looking for the only set of black and red robes in the entire Cloud Recesses.

Despite its large size, even the Library Pavilion had a limit to how large they could actually build it, and at the back of the building sat his in-law.

Wei Wuxian was sitting alone- Lan Wangji had taken a quest to Guangling and left his husband, who had finished a nighthunt with the juniors the night before, to rest. Stacks of blank parchment sat to his side along with a pot of ink. On another table sat finished papers laying out to dry.

“Wei Wuxian, “Lan Qiren walked up to the man with narrowed eyes

Wei Wuxian looked up and gave him a smile, “Lan-laoshi, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Lan Qiren frowned, “What are you doing?”

“Writing,”Wei Wuxian waved his hand, “Just had a fancy for a bit of fiction is all.”

Walking over to the other table, Lan Qiren ignored the diabolist’s side eye and picked up one of the parchments.

He read:

“I don’t care! I don’t care! Just let it all burn!”

Zhou Su’s scream was consumed by the flames raging all around them. Dropping down to the floor, Gao Han ripped his sleeve clean off and snatched his canteen out of his satchel. Again, ripping the sleeve in two, he doused them with what water he had left and crawled on his belly toward Zhou Su.

The young maiden was curled in the corner, shaking as the shelves around them were engulfed in blue fire. Getting up close to her, Gao Han ran his hand through her white hair causing her to whimper.

“We have to leave,, “Gao Han said, trying to sound as level headed as possible

Zhou Su shook her head from in between her thighs.

“Go, “she muttered, “Just go.”

The young woman pushed at Gao Han, “Leave me!”

‘Not a chance!, “Gao thought, flinching when another shelf fell down behind them

Wrapping his wet sleeve around his mouth, Gao Han swiftly threw his arms under Zhou Su and picked her up. The woman startled.

“What are you-, “Zhou Su gasped in alarm, “Put me down!”

With all her might, Zhou Su struck at Gao Han’s back as the young man hurried to the stairs of the cellar. Her trailing red robes were singed by the the ever looming fire.

“Let me go! Let me die! I don’t want to live anymore!, “Zhou Su shrieked as they neared the top of the stairs

“Stop it, “Gao Han ordered, throwing Zhou Su over his left shoulder to fiddle with the door’s lock

“No, let go!, “Zhou Su shook with whatever strength she had left, forcing Gao Han to drop her on the stairs

“Zhou Su!, “the young rogue got down on his knees to pick her up again

“No!, “the maiden crawled backwards on her hands, “Stay away!”

Hurriedly following after her, Gao Han tried to wrestle Zhou Su back into his hold while the young maiden tried to throw herself back down towards the fire. The flames themselves were not far behind them, the blue inferno had reached the stairwell and smoke was slowly filling the hall.

“Zhou Su, “Gao Han coughed, “Please, stop. Come here.”

Zhou Su swatted at him, “No. No! Get out! Go away; let me be!”

She kicked him in the face and irritation filled the young man’s eyes. Throwing himself at her once more, Gao Han tried to force her hands behind her back.

Gao Han snarled a beastly sound, “Stop it! Stop fighting me, Feng Yun!”

“This is The Lost Pearl of Niu Village, “Lan Qiren set the sheet down on the table and turned back to his in-law

Wei Wuxian blinked, “You’ve…read it before?”

“I read the first installment, “Lan Qiren replied with pursed lips, “You never finished it.”

Wei Wuxian huffed and looked back to his writing, “Yes, I was a bit preoccupied in the afterlife and couldn’t find time to finish it.”

“You are writing more of it?, “Lan Qiren walked and sat down on the other side of the man

“Yes, “Wei Wuxian blinked again, “Sizhui loves this story. I made it for him you know, and I wanted to finish it for his birthday as a surprise.”

Lan Qiren looked down at what Wei Wuxian was currently writing before looking back up, “Is this all your doing?”

“Hmm?, “the Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation quirked a brow at him

“Do you only come to the library to write fiction?, “Lan Qiren already knew the answer but wanted to hear it out of the man’s own lips

“Of course not, “Wei Wuxian smirked, “You can’t really expect me to never do any research again, do you?”

“Stay away from the Room of Forbidden Books., “Lan Qiren immediately ordered

“Okay, “the man hmmed, twirling his brush in his hand

Lan Qiren’s eyes narrowed at him once more, suspicious at the easy acquiesce. Wei Wuxian met the man’s eyes head on, and his smirk widened.

“I promise I won’t go into the Room of Forbidden Books, Lan-Laoshi, “Wei Wuxian spoke, amusement coloring his voice

That just meant that he would probably ask Lan Wangji to go into it for him, the Lan elder immediately realized, and there wasn’t anything Lan Qiren could do considering that banning a blood member of the clan from entering parts of the pavilion was nigh impossible due to the function of their tokens.

Lan Qiren felt a tick wanting to form on his forehead and sighed deeply.

“Let me ask you something, Wei Wuxian, “he spoke again

“Hmmm?, “Wei WuXian set down his brush

“It’s about the first installment of your book, “Lan Qiren laid his hands atop one another in his lap

“Yes?, “Wei Wuxian rested his head in his hand

“It’s about Huang Ling, “Lan Qiren stated, “I wanted to ask if you intentionally wrote him to be as spoiled as he was, and what his parents had to be like to raise such a discourteous young master!”

Wei Wuxian’s eyes widened at the Lan elder before he let out a loud laugh and threw his head back, to Lan Qiren’s irritation.

Wei xnickered a bit more, “Well, Lan-Laoshi, do you really want me to spoil the story for you?”

Lan Qiren let out a huff, “If learning a small part of a story ruins the entire thing for me then the story wasn’t worth my time in the first place.”

Wei Wuxian shook his head, silver eyes shining with what could only be glee, “Very well then. You see Huang Ling….”

Wei Wuxian had been back for three years now.

And Lan Qiren was annoyed.

Not at Wei Wuxian, if one could imagine that, but at Sect Leader Yao.

“Wei Wuxian is a depraved fiend. Everywhere he goes he has to prove how shameless he is! How could he write such dribble?, “the man spat to Sect Leader Qin

The “dribble” the man was referring to was one of Wei Wuxian’s newest fiction novels. It was a romance between a young female disciple and the heir of another sect. The young girl was once a street orphan who’d been picked up by a benevolent sect leader and allowed to cultivate. Through hard work, she became well known for her achievements. The sect heir himself was exceptional and was praised for his work all around the Jianghu. The conflict of the novel was the fact the young sect heir’s family and friends didn’t like his relationship with a former street rat and attempt to have the young woman assassinated, implicating the sect heir in the process.

It was titled: In the Valley of the Plum Blossoms and was Lan Qiren’s next read.

Today was the first day of this year’s GusuLan Discussion Conference, and Wei Wuxian himself was not present. Instead, he and Lan Wangji had decided to take a trip to Qishan along with Lan Sizhui and Wen Qionglin. Lan Qiren himself had been pleased at the idea, because that meant that the man would not be there to cause dissent within the cultivation world.

But it seemed dissent would start whether he was there or not.

“What does that heretic know of love? It’s common knowledge that he’s used his demonic wiles to seduce Hanguang-jun; it’s an embarrassment to GusuLan that he thinks he can get away with this!, “Sect Leader Yao continued

“It has been added to the fiction section of the pavilion actually, “Lan Qiren said as he strode across the room

Lan Qiren rarely dealt with Sect Leader Yao, barely felt the need to. The man was usually quite crafty with his words and knew who and what to talk about most of the time to get reactions and support out of people. Most of the time, Lan Qiren didn’t let the man get to him.

Today was not that day.

“Lan-Laoshi?, “the sect leader was incredulous

“As Yao-Zongzhu knows, GusuLan collects many forms of literature and other texts. To have another one of Wei Wuxian’s works as part of our collection is no embarrassment to us at all, “he said swiftly and concisely

“Ah, “Sect Leader Yao blinked, “I see.”

“If it pleases Yao-Zongzhu further, I have personally read many of Wei Wuxian’s works of fiction. They are not filled with debauchery as one might think. Many of them are tales of righteousness and romantic stories, which is a principal of the Lans, “Lan Qiren continued

A sweat formed on the sect leader’s brow, “Is that so? That surely is an interesting development, Lan-Laoshi.”

It was interesting to everyone but the Lan Clan, who knew that Lan Qiren would read everything under the sun as long as it was not obscene material or the waste of parchments known as spring books.

“I read many things Yao-Zongzhu would not believe, Wei Wuxian’s works among them., “he slaps his hand with his ruler

One more look from Lan Qiren sends the Yao Sect Leader into a full on cold sweat. Eager to get out of the situation, the man quickly apologizes before engaging the Lan elder in a talk about next years classes.

“Tell me, Lan-Laoshi. What beginner’s talismans will you teach next year?”

It had been five years since Wei Wuxian came back.

And Lan Qiren was agitated.

Not at Wei Wuxian, somehow, and not at Sect Leader Yao either. Probably because the man wasn’t there.

“It amazes me how shameless you can be, Wei Wuxian. Spending other people’s money without a care in the world.”

Lan Qiren could count on his hands the number of times Sect Leader Jiang had visited the Cloud Recesses. The man had made it clear on his third visit, two years before the Siege of the Burial Mounds, that he would much rather wait weeks for correspondences than have to deal with their “onerous” rules.

“Look at all this trash! Does the Lan Sect really allow you to waste your money on- what is that- loquat seeds?”

Today was a special occasion, not because of Jiang Wanyin’s visit mind you, but because tomorrow was Wei Wuxian’s birthday. Everyone in the Cloud Recesses was surprised to learn that the Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation had never celebrated his birthday before, and Lan Wangji had decided that that could not stand and went behind his husband’s back to plan a celebration with Lan Xichen’s support. Lan Qiren assumed that Wei Wuxian was a bit in know, as disciples who would not be in the Cloud Recesses on the day of the event had started giving the man gifts a week in advance.

That was the “trash” Jiang Wanyin was referring to. The loquat seeds themselves were a gift from Lan Jingyi, who was going to Baling for a joint hunt with Ouyang Zizhen and Jin Rulan to search for a deer yao so they could bring its beast core back as a gift for the diabolist’s research.

“It must bring the Lan elders great shame to know that not only is one of their heirs a cutsleeve, but his husband is a spendthrift to boot! Lan Wangji’s ancestors must be looking down on him in humiliation, “he laughed then

Lan Qiren didn’t even know why the man was here. Was it because he knew Wei Wuxian’s birthday was tomorrow and wanted to create strife? Did he know that Jin Zongzhu and Nie Zongzhu were going to attend and thought his presence important?

At the insult to his husband, Wei Wuxian’s eye’s narrowed, “Watch your tongue, Jiang Cheng! Say what you want about me, but don’t you dare insult my Lan Zhan.”

If there was one thing Lan Qiren would never admit, is that he was proud of how protective Wei Wuxian was of his nephew.

“Watch his tongue? How dare you tell Jiang Zongzhu what to do?!, “another voice interjected

Lan Qiren set his eyes on the other man. It was Sect Leader Jiang’s head disciple and right hand, Du Lim. He was a pretty average cultivator, followed Jiang Wanyin’s teachings and orders to a t. Lan Qiren had personally taught the man once and thought that he didn’t really have a mind of his own, never really quite thinking and always following.

But perhaps that was what Sect Leader Jiang wanted.

Wei Wuxian spared the head disciple a quick glance and nothing more, “Jiang Zongzhu has come into my home and insulted my husband. If he cannot even give the barest amounts of respect towards the owners of the home, perhaps he shouldn’t have come.”

Jiang Wanyin had snarled then, “You! How dare you? Know your place, Wei Wuxian!”

Sandu Shengshou had reached out towards Wei Wuxian then, his other hand going for his sword.

Despite knowing the man didn’t need his protection, Lan Qiren found himself standing in front of Wei Wuxian.

Jiang Wanyin’s fingers were inches from his face.

“Jiang Zongzhu, "Lan Qiren said staring the man down

Unable to hurt another sect’s elder, Jiang Wanyin quickly snatched his hand back.

Lan-Laoshi, “the man glared at the cultivator behind him

“Is there a problem?, “Lan Qiren raised an eyebrow

Jiang Wanyin scoffed then, “Problem? Just that Wei Wuxian never seems to know his place. He has no respect for those in power!”

“His place?, “Lan Qiren’s voice gave away nothing

At that, Jiang Wanyin’s gaze shifted towards Wei Wuxian once more. The man was looking back at him with no emotion what so ever, like he was a fly trying to annoy him.

“Isn’t his behavior against your rules?, “Sect Leader Jiang looked back at Lan Qiren, “Shouldn’t he be punished?”

“Punished?, “Lan Qiren paused letting the silence reign over them for a moment, “No, not at all.”

Jiang Wanyin clenched his fist around his sword, “And why is that?!”

“It seems Jiang Zongzhu had not noticed, but I have been here the entire time, “Lan Qiren starts, “I have heard everything.”

Before the man could open his mouth, Lan Qiren continues, “Wei Wuxian has not bought these items, they are gifts from his students and members of the clan. His family gives him these with all the love and respect they can offer.”

Jiang Wanyin’s face started to turn a dark shade of red. Behind him, Wei Wuxian looked ready to interject, but Lan Qiren started to speak again.

“Further more, know his place? Wei Wuxian fully knows his place as the spouse to the sect’s heir, “Lan Qiren’s eyes narrowed, “Heaven’s forbid anything happen to Xichen, but if anything does-as he does not have an heir yet- Lan Wangji would become the sect leader and Wei Wuxian would help him lead it.”

Lan Qiren threw an arm behind his back, “I find it appalling that Jiang Zongzhu would come into our home and attempt to attack the heir apparent’s spouse. Such an action is a declaration of war!”

Jiang Wanyin finally shouted out, “Don’t tell me you’d actually declare war for him? For Wei Wuxian?”

“As long as he is married to my nephew, Wei Wuxian is a member of the Lan Clan. We are always willing to go to war for our family, “Lan Qiren’s voice was final, “Now, I suggest Jiang Zongzhu and Young Master Du go to their designated guest rooms and await for someone to be able to receive them. Do that, and perhaps I won’t inform Lan Xichen of what has transpired.”

Eyes alighting in what could only be abject rage, Jiang Wanyin looked to be ready to throw another tongue lashing at his former head disciple. However, when he looked at the man, Wei Wuxian simply laid his hand on his Chenqing and the words died in Jiang Wanyin throat.

Jiang Wanyin couldn’t tell if Lan Qiren was bluffing about going to war or not. But at the off chance that he wasn’t, Jiang Wanyin wasn’t dumb enough to chance it and end up having to fight an army of the undead along with the entire Lan sect and their subsidary sects.

With one last severe look at the Yiling Laozu, Jiang Wanyin muttered a quick, “Fine” before yelling at his head disciple to follow him back to their rooms.

As Jiang Wanyin and Du Lim stormed off, Lan Qiren turned back to look at his in-law.

“The disciples should have known better than to weigh you down with so much as once, “he said tersely

Without letting Wei Wuxian reply, Lan Qiren picked up a box with what he was sure was stuffed with fans, and books, and jewelry.

Wei Wuxian blinked at him in surprise, “Lan-Laoshi?”

“I’m sure you have better things to be doing than standing around here dealing with this nonsense, “Lan Qiren replies before turning around

With that, Lan Qiren started in the direction of the Jingshi. Wei Wuxian had no choice but to follow after him.

It had been ten years since Wei Wuxian married into their family.

And right now Lan Qiren was facing a headache.

“There, there, a-die is here, “Wei Wuxian cooed

“Waaaahhhh!”

Infants were a blessing, but they were also very very very loud. This little, loud blessing was named Lan Jing. His grandniece.

“Oh, little one, it’s alright, “Wei Wuxian stood, turning in slow circles as he rubbed at the girl’s back, “Baba will be back soon to make it all better.”

Lan Jing had become part of their family five months ago. In a trip to Yiling to check up on the cenotaph to the Wen remnants, Wei Wuxian and Wen Qionglin had come across and newborn abandoned on the edge of the cursed mountain. Wei Wuxian took her as his own merely seconds after his eyes landed on her.

As soon as they two returned with the infant, Lan Wangji too accepted her and the two parents spent the week with the healers getting a check up for their new daughter. Unfortunately, because she was left out in the elements for so long, little a-Jing’s body was weaker than most, and so she was prone to sickness.

The child sniffled in her father’s arms, “Waaahhh!”

“I know, I know, “Wei Wuxian smiled as she snuffled closer into his chest, “Baba will be back with your medicine soon.”

As Wei Wuxian landed a kiss on the top of the child’s head, Lan Qiren contemplated why he was even there. He was passing by when he spotted Lan Wangji bolting from his home in the direction of the healing pavilion, and simply walked inside without wondering what was going on.

“Bofu, “Lan Sizhui’s voice brought him out of his contemplations. “Here.”

The young man set a cup of black tea in front of him. It was inside one of Wei Wuxian’s newest inventions, a cup that would hold tea to the proper temperature without burning one’s hand.

He hated to admit it was his favorite invention.

Seeing his grand-uncle take a sip of tea and hum in content, Lan Sizhui turned to his father.

“a-die, I can take her until baba gets back. You should get back to your writing, “Lan Sizhui stood and walked with his arms open, ready to receive his little sister

“Hmm, are you sure Sizhui? She bites!, “Wei Wuxian grinned while adjusting the five month old in his arms

“It cannot be that bad, “Sizhui grinned and effortlessly took the young girl from his father

“Mhmm, you’re right about that, nothing can be as bad as a-Yuan’s bites, “Wei Wuxian’s grin widened, “I remember when you first started teething you bit me so hard on the chest Wen Qing thought I’d been attacked by a snake!”

A bright blush covered Lan Sizhui’s face, “Ah, I’m sorry!”

Wei Wuxian laughed and placed a hand on top of the young man’s shoulder, “I was okay, just surprised!”

Giving the young man a quick pat, Wei Wuxian went to sit back at his desk while Lan Sizhui sat the table with his sister, her little cries slightly muffled by his robes.

“There, there, a-Jing, “Lan Sizhui used the same tone as his a-die, “Baba will bring a remedy for your sniffles soon enough.”

Looking at the two sibling a little while Longer, Lan Qiren’s eyes soon shifted to their father in the corner. From what he could see when he walked in the room, Wei Wuxian was working on two things at once. One was a set of children’s books that was going to be placed in the newly constructed nursery in the Jingshi. The other was a book about a young village boy who comes to find he has the power of ice manipulation.

He couldn’t wait to read it.

Suddenly, the front door to the Jingshi slammed open and Lan WangJi emerged with a medicine jar in his hands.

Lan WangJi eyed his uncle in surprise, “Shufu?”

Lan Qiren grumbled, waviing his hand towards Sizhui and a-Jing, “Wangji, quickly, come give her the remedy!”

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