#unrightful punishment

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

Deliverance from False Prophets

then the Lord knoweth how to deliver the godly out of temptations and to reserve the unjust unto the Day of Judgment to be punished — 2 Peter 2:9 | 21st Century King James Version (KJV21) The Holy Bible; 21st Century King James Version Copyright © 1994 by Deuel Enterprises, Inc. Cross References: Job 21:30; Psalm 37:33; Proverbs 12:13; Matthew 6:13; Matthew 10:15; 1 Corinthians 10:13; Jude 1:6

[dumbsoftheart]

threads of fate

pairing: peacekeeper!coriolanus snow x preachers daughter!reader

tags: 18+, mdni. dub-con, heavy and dark religious themes, dark themes, fingering, kissing, swearing, sliiight voyerism, corruption and innocence kink,

summary: after a chase in the woods, coriolanus becomes devoted to making you his one and only follower.

notes: i don't know what came over me.. enjoy!

word count: 7.2k

౨ׅৎ

the blood of the lamb, washed over the sins of those strayed away from god, atones those begging to be spared from destruction. the saccharine ichor was the ultimate gateway towards deliverance- and thus sought out by sinners and saints alike to be granted eternal redemption for the transgressions that permeated the sweats and tears of the individuals whose secrets would have them damned to the dreadful inferno beneath their feet. the sweet lamb; symbol of innocence and purity, and the wolf who hunted it, the face of deception and treachery, stood now in the heart of the woodlands, the sweet kill hidden shamefully in the asylum of the crowded aspen as it’s predator tauntingly whistled in pursuit of it’s coveted prize. 

tears fell in a waterfall down into the vessels of your collarbones, trailing down and staining the frail white fabric of your dress, unveiling the soft tanned skin of your chest in its wake. with one hand clasped tightly against your mouth, you tried to conceal your wails of fear and the threatening thumping of your heart so as not to draw attention to the towering figure looming dangerously close to you, chuckling lowly as he carefully made his way through the maze of trees and forestry. your other hand was clutched desperately on the golden cross that hung around your neck, thumb haphazardly caressing the delicate engravings and etchings of the cool metal. 

hail mary, full of grace, the lord is with thee. blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, jesus. holy mary, mother of god, pray for us sinners now, and at the hour of death.

shame washed over you as you thought of your mother and father- your dear father, and what they would make of your inevitable disappearance. you were taught the way of the lord since you emerged from your mothers womb; it followed you everywhere you went. by all means, you had lived your life for god himself. what would he think of you now? the unrighteous will not inherit the kingdom of god. and yet there you were, a thief, running from, no doubt, god’s punishment for your sins. 

despite your fathers widespread fame throughout the district, your family struggled to bring food and water to the table regularly. seeing the despair that clouded your mothers eyes as she failed to provide a dinner some nights for her family had driven you towards madness. you grew desperate- desperate to alleviate the stress that haunted her and satiate the hunger that settled in your stomach for the fifth day in a row. you rationalised, that with your undying devotion, god would find it in him to forgive you. with all the work your father put into his sermons and dedication to delivering god's word to the poverty stricken peoples of district 12, the divine being would be forgiving in his punishment in recognition of the loyalty you harboured. 

now, you knew you were wrong. 

you berate yourself for even entertaining the stupid idea of pilfering from the small bakery near the marketplace. in truth, it wasn’t even stealing. you had waited until dark threatened the sky, then snuck behind the establishment to snatch a few meagre, stale loaves that had been carelessly discarded in a small bin beside the refuse receptacles. combined with the butter you had been gifted earlier in the week, these provisions would barely suffice to stifle the persistent pangs in your stomach for a few days, at most. you naively assumed you were in solitude and hastily fled when you’d filled up your small leather bag with as many old rolls and loaves as possible. 

oh, how wrong could you have been? you never caught sight of the face of the man who now charged after you- only a faint glance at a familiar blue that weaved its way through the trees- but the adrenaline rushing through your veins urged you to run, and to never stop. and now, here you were, caught in the act, pathetically weeping as you waited for the repercussions of your actions to find you. 

you moved to press your back harder against the thin trunk of the tree, a twig snapping under the weight of your foot, and your eyes widened with fear as the sound reverberated against the still of the forest, the soft footsteps that trailed behind you coming to an abrupt stop. then, a voice. 

“my dear, it would make it so much easier for us if you just came out. i promise you, i don’t bite.” it purred. the way he spoke was low and unrecognisable, laced with an amusement that had you shiver with the depravity of it. your crying ceased at an attempt to remain as hidden as possible, nary a whimper escaping from behind the painful grip of your hand across your mouth. 

“i know you know what you did was wrong. i mean, stealing from a bakery? i wonder what your father would think of you now, his daughter a thief.”

you fought back tears at the mention of your father, shame once again weighing at your conscience, “come out, and i promise your punishment won't be as harsh as it should be.”

the proposition had you thinking for a bit, the truth behind the words appealing to you for a sliver of a moment. before you could consider your next step; find an out or comply to the omnipresent man’s offering, a gunshot pierces your ears, and you let out a shriek so loud you swore all of panem could hear you.

you begin to wail again then, uncontrollably, screaming and begging for respite as your body gave in under the weight of itself; your knees buckling and falling harshly against the ground. you shake with the ferocity of a small rodent before you’re pulled up by your shoulders and engulfed into a familiar, warm hug. your eyes wide with panic, you thrash your head back in forth in an attempt to find the man who was tormenting you, only to see that he was now gone, and in his place, a small search party lead by a peacekeeper cheered in glory at the sight of you. relief washed over you as you looked up to find your father, falling into the safety of his arms as he escorted you out of the forest, giving a curt thank you to the peacekeeper and another man you recognized to be one of your fathers students, before dragging you to the comfort of your home. 

౨ׅৎ

when your father found out the reason behind your being in the woods, you’d landed yourself a life of extra chores and punished to more frequent church visits until your father decided you had repent enough. your father, reassuring you of god's forgiveness as his child, warned that your actions wouldn't fade from memory. he emphasised the necessity of restoring your relationship with the lord and savior. you were under his constant watch, now. each morning, before dropping you off at school, he compelled you to pray fervently for protection over your family and yourself, urging you to plead for deliverance from the consequences of your actions.

with your increased presence in church taking up most of the time you had to yourself, you found yourself taking note of the other frequent church goers. your father, of course, and his dedicated student, were a constant in your peripheral vision. the old couple who lived only a few minutes away from you, mrs. harmon and her froofy, dirty church outfits, her boisterous children, and her grumbling husband. you noticed small things; like how the wife of the newly-wed couple in town had stopped wearing her wedding ring, and how her husband seemed to never give her a second look. how the twin boys in the grade below you suddenly surpassed you in height, and their younger sister now seemed to lack a certain innocence that was pertinent in her character before. you made a small promise to yourself to pray for her. 

there was one person, however, who you were not familiar with, yet you could feel it in the deep ends of your bones that you knew exactly who he was. he had begun to appear only once a week, his shiny buzzcut and blue peacekeeper uniform sticking out sorely from the rest of the crowd. then, twice a week- then three- and then suddenly you found you could not escape from him. everywhere you turned, he was there. when you walked home from school, you would catch him patrolling somewhere nearby, or laughing and chatting with his peacekeeper friends. when you opened the church doors for mass, he would be first to walk in, handing you a small smile before making his way to sit in the pew farthest away from you. he was there, everywhere you looked, and it unsettled you greatly. there was a lack of sincerity in his eyes when he smiled, and for a moment you thought that it had seemed like hunger, but you pushed the idea away before your brain could process it. one night, when closing the church doors and heading to your home, the small sound of rapid footsteps triggered your fight or flight response, the latter winning. when the man rested his hand on your shoulder politely, handing you a handkerchief you had dropped, you felt a strange sense of deja vu. the speed at which it sounded he had ran towards you didn’t match how he stood before you now; breathing even, chest pushed out pridefully, his dark sapphire eyes never leaving yours. but you were so sure that the man had been sprinting, just like the man who had sprinted after you a few weeks ago had. you gave him a small thank you before speed-walking your way to the front door, panting heavily as you locked it shut behind you and your hand made its way back to the pendant on your neck, grasping it so tightly it hurt, the stipe digging into the soft flesh of your palms as a way of grounding yourself back to your senses. 

that night, when you got on your knees to pray, you couldn’t shake the look on the mans face from your thoughts. his features themselves were even, lacking any sense of emotion, but his eyes troubled you the most. the way they bore into yours made you feel as if you would burst into flames right then. it made you feel as if there was something he wanted from you, but your poor innocent soul couldn’t figure out what. when you nestled yourself into your bed that same night, you vowed to stay as far away from him as possible. 

you hadn't realised how hard that would be. 

he approached you the next morning. it was saturday, and the usual gloomy weather of district 12 had been forced away and replaced with the harsh, bright sunlight. it shone spectacularly through the stained-glass windows, gracing the dark wood of each side aisle with vibrant reds and yellows and blues  and brightening the deep red carpet that lay evenly along the nave. you stood behind the pulpit, readying your fathers sermons and homilies for that week's sabbath. he had barged in unannounced, making his way towards you slowly as you pretended to ignore the tall figure making its way down the red path. 

“good morning, miss,” he spoke lowly towards you, peering upwards slightly as the pulpit was slightly taller than the rest of the church, and you pretended to read through the cards and flip through your bible as if it were you preparing to speak in a mere 15 minutes. he cleared his throat once, and you waved your hand nonchalantly towards the pews, “the preacher will be ready shortly. please, have a seat.” 

from behind your fathers flashcards, you could see a small tick of his jaw and he pressed his lips together tightly, nodding slowly before making his way to his usual seat, feigning interest in the architecture of the building. 

“its quite beautiful, no?”

you hummed. 

“i wonder how the district could afford to pay for it.”

the comment caught you off guard, causing you too look up at him with scrunched brows, your lips parted in confusion. surely, he knew the capitol had paid for it- and even then, what did it matter? a sanctuary for god deserved only the best of resources, you thought. the beauty of the church was a reflection of the beauty of your religion, the intricacies and meticulous carpentry of the building spoke to one of the three transcendentals that point to god. of course, it would be beautiful. 

before you could think of a response to the bizarre musing, your father burst in, pressing a light kiss to your cheek and thanking you kindly for preparing for him. the man stood up to make his way to greet the preacher, and you were out of sight as fast as lightning. 

that cycle continued for a while. he would sit in the pews, admiring the architecture (when really, he was admiring you), then stand to greet your father enthusiastically, frowning ever so slightly when you disappeared the moment he made any closer to your father. eventually, you had become quite good at avoiding him. you saw him less in the markets, saw less of him in church, and rarely caught sight of him anywhere else. that was, until you found him at your doorstep one hot summer day. 

you and your mother swore it was the hottest day to see district 12, and you sat on the porch in a small, lace trimmed top and cut-off jean shorts. your hair was carelessly tossed into an updo to relieve your neck of some heat, and you sat in your fathers old chair as you sipped on some juice your family had been given earlier that day. 

you weren’t expecting any visitors that day, so it was safe to say you nearly choked when the man appeared from behind the path of thrush that hid your small home from sight of the church, dressed only in the blue dress pants of his peacekeeper uniform and a thin white shirt, silver dog tag swinging like a pendulum across his chest as he made his way towards you. your father had emerged delighted, mr. snow!, he cheered, patting the man- snow, what a fitting name- on his back and urging him inside. you scrambled to the backdoor and into the kitchen where your mother rest, the door slamming behind you loudly as you entered, causing her to jump. 

“dear?”

“that man daddy’s talking to- who is he?”

she gave you a halfhearted shrug, “i wouldnt know, pumpkin, it’s probably business with your father. he goes to the church, no?” 

you nodded, pacing back and forth, ignoring the crazed look your mother threw at you as you processed the information. 

“do not lead us into temptation, but deliver us from evil,” she reminded you, and your jaw dropped at the silent accusation she threw at you. 

“absolutely not, mother!” you stormed back out the door, drowning your mother’s laughter out with frustrated mumbles of has she lost her mind? and what a woman! how she could ever think something about snow was tempting you was beyond your understanding. however, when you made it back to your chair and your watered down glass of juice, the sight of a shirtless ‘mr. snow’ and your, otherwise fully dressed, father in the garden, dripping sweat shamelessly into your mothers vegetable patch, a snap thought breached your mind that perhaps there was something tempting about the mysterious man. 

that sent you into a frenzy. your knee bounced anxiously as you silently begged god to forgive you for the thought, and that it was simply intrusive, and not reflective of the morals and high grounds you held closely to your heart. nervously, you grabbed the book you had abandoned weeks ago and shoved your nose into the pages as if to distract yourself from your own brain and its wicked ministrations.  

you weren't sure of how much time had passed, yet it felt like the man's stay was suspiciously short as he and your father made their way inside. you gave him a curt nod, and your father gave you a small lecture about manners, insisting that the two of you become accustomed to one another. and there you were, legs drawn up to your chest as if to protect yourself from the sinful looking man before you. 

“my name is coriolanus snow,” he said. coriolanus. it was unlike any name you’d heard before. you returned the gesture softly, hoping that he would disappear behind your father into the house and you could breathe again, but he stayed and stared at you with that look, “your father tells me we’re the same age. he’s a nice man.”

you bit your lip at that. the same age? there was something about coriolanus that seemed older. it also begged the question: what was someone his age doing as a peacekeeper? you opened your mouth to pry at him, but he cut you off, stepping closer. 

“tell me, dear, what sins weigh in your heart?” 

you drew yourself back further into the safety of your chair, face laced with disgust as you tried as hard as possible to distance yourself from the imposing man now caging you into your confinement. his breath was heavy on your nose, and your heart pounded harshly- from what, you weren’t sure. fear? a sense of danger? temptation? his lips were so close to yours now, you could smell the faint scent of cologne that mingled with the saltiness of his sweat, and you tried your best to keep your breathing as even as possible, feigning indifference to his proximity to you poorly. 

“i dont know what you mean, mr. snow.”

he smiled at that, laughing lowly. he didn’t expect you to know what he meant, of course, but he had an inkling that if he played his cards just right, he’d have you right where he wanted. he leaned closer now, lips dodging yours, lightly brushing your nose as his head turned to whisper in your ear. 

“do you think of me at night? our little chase?”

“wh-what?”

“you’re smart, miss. think about it.”

he disappeared into the house, bidding goodbye to your mother and father and whisking himself away. your mouth remained parted, eyes wide with confusion as you tried to process what his words could have meant. 

surely, he couldn’t mean.. 

no. absolutely not, you decided. coriolanus may have unsettled you ungreatly, but he was a peacekeeper- and your father had always told you that they served to protect you, that they would never harm you purposely. you stood shakily and made your way quietly into the old house, reeking of old wood and boiled vegetables. you sat on the couch near your brother, holding his head to your chest as you stroked his hair comfortingly, still trying to process. from the kitchen, your father called, “he’s a nice boy, no? perhaps he could be of some influence to you, sweetheart.” 

you agreed meekly, despite disagreeing with your father completely. you werent entirely sure what he saw in the man at all, yet you were adamant that he was, in fact, not a good influence, but a parasite. you wanted absolutely nothing to do with him. he made you feel unsafe- unsure of yourself, and for some reason, your faith. you decided he was no good; but yet you couldnt make any understanding of the bittersweet ache between your thighs. 

when coriolanus walked home that evening, he couldn’t fight his smile. he saw you, in all his glory, struggling pathetically under his gaze, squirming and fidgeting uncontrollably as he trapped you within the cage of his arms. 

the sacrificial lamb has been caught, he thought. 

what a stupid, stupid lamb. 

౨ׅৎ

you rushed into church near 5 am the next day, sleep deprived from the constant running of your mind and the damned words of coriolanus snow. 

“our father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven,” you repeated to yourself, kneeled below the large wooden crucifixion of jesus, hands clasped tightly together, your head resting painfully against the white of your knuckles. 

what you were praying for, you didn’t know. you couldn't go to the confessional- heavens forbid, no. confessing secrets of your dreams of coriolanus’s hands, the outline of his jaw, the way he whispered his sinister words so sweetly into your ear- to your father? you would rather be hanged for the whole district to see. there was nothing sinful about your dreams, exactly, but it felt sinful, dirty, downright hellish. you thought of his lips, the soft and pink flesh of them, the stormy blue of his eyes- and, oh god, you couldn't stop replaying his words in your head. 

‘do you think of me at night?’ he had asked you so earnestly. as if he needed you to tell him yes, you did think of him, every night. it wasn't a lie, of course, only the way you had begun thinking about him had changed. but that wasn't your doing at all, was it? no, he was to blame, for speaking to you like that, for dangling his dog tag so close that it brushed your cross indecently, for showing up to your house and stripping himself half naked, sweating impurely over the soil you and your mother sowed and reaped with love, with innocence, purity. it was entirely his fault, from the way he seemed to be forcing himself into your life. the church door creaked open, and you continued to pray, “give us this day, our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.”

your heart raced as footsteps neared closer, as if you knew exactly who they belonged to. 

“what troubles you, little lamb?” his voice took you with fear, the way it rumbled in his chest and reverberated on the walls confining the two of you, alone. you raised your head, refusing to look back at him, “i do believe that's none of your concern, mr. snow.”

you heard him chuckle lowly, repeating the words mr. snow to himself under his breath. it made you shiver, and you recited the bible verses your father drilled into your head from as young as you could remember: vindicate me, o god, and plead my cause against an ungodly nation; rescue me from deceitful and wicked men.

you could feel him now, knee pressed lightly against your back. you stood up and turned to face him, eyes wild and daring as they searched the azure maze of his own. his hand reached to stroke your hair, and you flinched. 

“why is it that you fear me so much, do you think?”

“i’m not afraid of you.”

he tsked, “‘fear’ is different than ‘being afraid’, darling. to be afraid is a fleeting moment. your brain's immediate response towards danger,” he moved to touch your hair again, now more forcefully, tucking the loose strands along your hairline behind your ear. 

keep back your servant also from willful sins.

he continued, “i asked, why do you fear me?”

you tried to search deeper into his eyes, trying to grasp any understanding at what he was trying to communicate to you. your mind ran amok, and it was no help that coriolanus's hand now snuck its way into your fingers, fidgeting with the soft digits mindlessly. 

“i don't.. i don't know-” he cut you off by stepping closer before you finished. you had wanted to tell him that you didn't know why he thought you feared him, that you didnt understand the question, and that you needed to get home soon, so to please excuse you. 

“i think you fear what i impose between you and your precious god.”

you let out an involuntary laugh, giggling childlishly at the accusation. you stopped, when his eyes darkened. 

“i’m sorry, mr. snow, but i really don’t know what you mean!” you were struggling to contain your girlish giggles. what he imposes between me and god? it was such a bizarre statement, so plainly laid out for you, that you couldn’t even comprehend it entirely. your laughing ceased, for good now, when his hand circled tightly around your wrist. 

let them not have dominion over me.

then i will be upright.

“i’m not stupid, love. i saw you, yesterday, practically drooling over me. i wonder what your father would have to say if he saw the sinful way you ogled at me,” he paused, and you swallowed painfully, “and dont tell me you’ve forgotten all about our little chase, hm? wasnt it exhilarating?” now, panic engulfed you. you tried to back away from him as the pieces etched themselves together in your brain, but his hold on your wrist was only getting tighter. 

“that was you?” your voice was impossibly small, weak from the alarm that blared in your head. your eyes darted back and forth desperately, searching for an out, hoping and praying that someone might burst in and see the scene before you, tear hades away from his persephone and save her from her impending doom. 

i will be blameless and innocent of great transgression.

he dipped his head to your neck, lips deliciously grazing over the supple skin of your collar bone, pressing kisses so light you could barely feel them as you tried to wriggle from his grasp. 

“of course it was me, darling,” the way you felt him smile against your skin was chilling, and you fought back tears as he moved impossibly closer to you, “isn’t that adrenaline rush just addicting? tell me, dove, what do you think about me when you lie in bed and replay our precious little moments together in that pretty head of yours?” 

your breathing quickened, and you winced as coriolanus gripped tighter at your wrist, his other hand painfully gripping the small of your waist, massaging the gentle muscle of it. you could feel his entire body pressed against yours, and a tear threatened to slip when you felt the hard pressing of his lower region on your stomach. you shook your head, refusing to give in to his line of questioning, but his grip on your waist tightened and you cried out in pain, “your hands!” you whined, relief slowly making its way to the sore area of your waist as he loosened his grip. he made to grasp your chin under his index, forcing you to keep eye contact with him and urged you silently to keep going. 

“your..” you let out a shaky sigh, “your h-ands, your voice, the words you speak to me. i don't understand why.” 

he cooed at you now, as if proud of you for speaking up. your eyes darted to his lips, and you saw something flash in his eyes, “anything else?”

let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in your sight,

lord, my rock, and my redeemer. 

you tried to look down at your feet as if to run away from the question, but his hold on your chin was unrelenting. shamefully, you whispered, “your lips.” 

he let out a small ahhh, as if the admission shocked him. he knew, of course. of course he knew. you poor thing. sweet, little lamb, so innocent and pure. untouched by lust, blind to its deceptive allure. he knew from the moment he’d gone after you in those woods and failed to catch you, that he would do everything in his power to make sure you would never escape his grasp again. he knew when his frail attempts at getting closer to you failed, he had to resort to a harsher solution. he needed to infiltrate every space you breathed in, and break his was into your mind until he had you right where he needed you to be: malleable, so he could corrupt you just as easy. 

he knew your father protected you, the extent to which he went to protect you, as well. banning sex education in your school, ensuring your mind stays as pure as possible to the exploits of fickle men and their wants. you knew the basics, thanks to your mother and her worrisome self, but her teachings were meddled down into some confusing allegory that left your mind as clueless as before, so that you stayed intact, perfect and pristine in the lords eye as well as the rest of the district, in your white frilly dresses, light makeup, and perfectly crafted manners. 

he knew how easy it would be to get in your head. the human body is funny, like that, wherein it begs for things it doesn’t know of. he knew when he flexed his hands you caught sight of it, when he swallowed you intently watched the way his adams apple bobbed, he knew when he showed up to your home and stripped himself almost bare it would plague your mind with an unknowing want and desire, and soon enough, you’d have no choice but to give in to it, abandon your god and his lessons for coriolanus alone. 

he ran his tongue across his bottom lip, swiping his thumb across yours as if to mirror himself, and then ducked his head closer, “go on.”

you squeezed your eyes shut. everything felt so, so wrong, and you didn't know why, but you couldn't stop. when he continued to toy with your lip, slightly plunging the tip of his finger past them and into your mouth, you let out an involuntary, small moan, and your legs shook and quivered as the strange ache from yesterday returned. 

“wh-what?”

“kiss me.”

your eyes widened, and you shook your head. coriolanus thought it was adorable, how you struggled to piece together what was about to happen, how your brain tried desperately to fill in the blanks with information it didnt know. you heard coriolanus sigh disapprovingly at your protests and he shoved his thumb further into your mouth, causing you to choke. he removed it, then wiped the saliva that remained over your bottom lip before inserting the digit in his mouth, tasting you. 

“its okay, little one. you can kiss me. he wont mind,” you didnt realize your fingers lingered over the necklace nestled on your chest, and your gaze followed his finger as he gestured upwards. he wont mind. you racked your brain over the things coriolanus said to you from he entered the church.

“i think you fear what i impose between you and your precious god.”

now, you truly hoped someone would burst in, and you could scream and wail as you explained the horrors coriolanus was about to commit to you (even if those horrors were unclear). he was so close, and something still pressed hardly against your stomach, and suddenly you couldn't breathe, “he would mind. i promise to pray for you coriolanus, i don't know what troubles you, but the lord-” 

he cut you off by shoving his lips onto yours harshly, groaning at the contact. his hands made their way to rest on your clothed breasts, and you wriggled and struggled to try get away from him, but your efforts were fruitless. you were cornered, now. a lamb with nowhere to run or hide, forced to face its fate. he ravaged your lips, hands restless as they caressed all over your protesting body. the ache between your legs grew, and a small part of you realized that the last thing you wanted right now was for someone to walk in, and see the preacher's daughter being completely defaced by a peacekeeper. 

“your god cant give me what i need, angel. cant you see? you did this to me,” his hand grabbed yours as he pulled away to speak, trailing it down the hard muscle of his abdomen and palming the hardness that threatened to burst through the seam of his pants. your eyes were wide and doe-like, and coriolanus never needed to fuck you more. his lips met yours again, and his other hand fumbled to remove his pants, hissing when the air hit his straining cock, all while you tried your best to distance yourself from him as much as possible. your face was hot, and your hands remained in the air, unsure of where to rest them, as you slowly allowed coriolanus to slip his tongue into your mouth. 

“good girl,” he practically growled, and you let out a pathetic squeak when you felt your core tighten, pleasure washing over you at the small praise. coriolanus was turned on beyond conception, moaning disgracefully as he stroked himself through the fabric of his underwear. if you could see the spectacle the two of you were making, in the middle of church- no less, the thought alone had coriolanus close to the edge. you gasped when you saw him palm himself, and without thinking, your hand brushing his ever so slightly, lingering a second too long before his eyes snapped up at yours, pleading you to go ahead and touch him. 

when you finally pressed your hand to his clothed region, you swore the way coriolanus threw his head back with a small mewl and moan would land you an eternity in hell alone. 

“thats it, baby, jus’ like that.. keep going..” you gasped when his hand sneaked its way under your dress- your sunday best- your hand faltering a bit when his long middle finger lightly grazed your clothed cunt. the foreign feeling it elicited from you had you desperately searching coriolanus’s eyes for an answer, unable to speak as his fingers that toyed with the most intimate parts of you had you moaning softly and lowly, uncontrollably. you continued to palm him, and his hand slipped into the lacy cotton of your panties, cursing hotly under his breath when he feels you. 

“so wet for me. you dirty fucking girl, look at you: making a mess in church.” you didnt know what he meant, but shame burned through your skin. confusion grappled at you and you began to sob, not ignoring the way your tears seemed to make coriolanus throb beneath you, “please stop, coriolanus, this is immoral.”

“baby, if it feels good, then it cant be bad,” he stroked the tear stains on your cheek softly, cupping your face with false earnest as he pulled your head to lay on his chest, “does it feel good?”

coriolanus reveled in the way you looked up at him, like a devoted follower in the arms of their saviour. when you nodded slowly, he gently spun you around and shoved your face into the cool wood of the crucifixion behind you, his hand painfully pushing against your cheek enough so that you couldn't look anywhere but above you, into the sad eyes of jesus. 

your panties were ripped off with a shriek that was muffled by coriolanus’s hand around your mouth, and you sobbed as pain mixed with pleasure as he gave a few slaps to your dripping cunt, mumbling about how pretty it is. in a desperate attempt to wiggle out of your new position, you accidentally arched your back further, giving him more access. 

“let me show you how i can love you,” he whispered into your ear, before returning his fingers to the slick mess that coated your cunt, your body jolting when they occasionally brushed over your clit, the unfamiliar sensation already too overwhelming for you to handle. with a few more agonising strokes of his fingers, he prodded at your hole, teasing your entrance in a way that had your eyes roll to the back of your head. when he finally slipped them in, your hand pounded desperately against the cross you were pressed up on, pleads to stop falling pathetically into the hand of coriolanus and onto deaf ears. he was merciless with it, greedily pounding his fingers into you in a way that had your knees gravitating towards each other and animalistic grunts of pleasure vibrating through his hand. 

something in you burned, your body was pleading for more as an unfamiliar coil formed in the pit of your stomach. your hand continued to bang against the cross, tears falling as you forcibly peered into the eyes of your saviour while you got your cunt ravaged in the middle of his shrine. 

“oh god, oh god” you mumbled through his hand. you were unsure if it was shame, or the delicious way coryo pumped his fingers into you, but you grew lightheaded and dumb, eyes hazy as you grew closer to your release. 

“thats it, take it. you’re filthy, taking my fingers so well in the middle of church.” now, both hands scraped desperately against the cross, leaving marks in the wake of your fingernails digging into the hardwood. coriolanus tugged your head further up, forcing you to stare at him with tears streaming down your face and desperate pleas for him to stop going unheard. he smiled coyly when he felt your pussy clench around his fingers, and he withdrew them just before you reached your release, a loud, agonising whine of relief and desperation leaving your smushed lips. he was quick to replace his fingers with his cock, the slow intrusion of it making you let out a low, droned out groan as he stretched your virgin cunt past its limit.

he removed his hand from your mouth, and a string of prayers tumbled out of it, “o my god, i am heartily sorry for having offended thee,” and “and i detest all my sins because of thy just punishments, but most of all because they offend thee, my god, who art all good and deserving of all my love.” it earned you a slap to your ass, and you cried out loudly as coriolanus shoved your dress off of you, watching as it fell uselessly around your legs into a pool of white. he flipped you around, admiring your soft breasts and the way they spilled over in the hold of his fingers, and he traced the soft, plumpness of your belly as he chuckled lowly at your continuous prayer. with his cock still nestled into you, he leaned forward to whisper in your ear. 

“god loves you, but not as much as i do,” and then he thrust his cock into you with such force that you nearly tumbled to the floor. his hand rest on your lower back, forcing you to arch closer to him, your hips meeting his unwillingly at his fast pace. coriolanus’s cock grazed the inside of your gummy walls perfectly, and you found yourself slipping from reality as he continued to pound his dick into you, moaning when you contracted around him without rhythm, your inexperienced self almost overloaded with pleasure, unable to control your body. 

“you’re being such a good girl, taking my cock like this,” he weaved a hand through your hair, “‘n you’re gonna let me cum inside you, yeah? gonna make a woman out of you.” you couldnt focus on the words he was throwing at you, lost in pleasure as the tip of coryo’s dick hit that one spot over and over again. the way he spoke to you had you at a crossroads, and it didnt help that he was fucking you into oblivion, and now you understood what he had meant when he said he imposed between you and god, because you were becoming addicted to the push and pull of his cock inside of you. 

“thats right, take it. you look so pretty all dumb and fucked out on my cock,” you reached to grab his arm to steady yourself, your orgasm creeping in closely, “you gonna cum for me?” 

you didn't know what it meant, but you nodded anyways, completely lost in bliss, “coryo..” you moaned out, his brows raising slightly at the new nickname, a smirk settling on his face. moans and mewls lewdly left your mouth as he quickened his pace, his unused hand massaging at your tits, twisting and pinching softly at your nipples as you thrashed with pleasure under him. 

“gonna make you worship this fucking cock, baby” he was close himself now, his head falling and his voice itching up an octave, lewd moans clashing with yours as the rhythm and pace he set began to falter, and he fucked you as hard as he could as he chased your high and his own, “gonna make you devoted to me. you’re never gonna wanna be away from me again,” his face twisted with pleasure, and you circled your arms around his neck as you tried to ground yourself, the coil in your stomach slowly beginning to unravel and threatening to snap. a shadow passed, and your eyes widened with terror as you slapped coryo’s arm haphazardly, begs falling from your mouth to stop. he turned his head lazily to look at what you were whining about, but his thrusts didn't stop. 

“let them see what a dirty fucking girl you are.” 

your walls tightened and your eyes rolled so far back into your head you were scared they wouldn't come back up as your orgasm reached you. you covered your mouth, shrieking desperately as the shockwaves of pleasure rolled over you, the newfound feeling unrelenting as it took over every part of your body. coriolanus repeated words of encouragement and praise as he fucked you through your high, before bottoming out and releasing his load in you, christening your walls. you whined at the feeling, so full and drunk off of it that your concerns of the passerby faded. the both of you stood there, panting heavily, both groaning when coryo slid out of you. he slapped his tip on your puffy clit one, two, three times, before a loud knock rapped on the church door. 

you could feel coriolanus’s spill leaking out of you as you crouched on your knees, hidden, and you cried silently, the reality of what had just happened to you settling in. coriolanus snow had corrupted you, in the worst possible way, and now you could only feel yourself crave more of him. as he spoke to the intruder, egging them to run along, a thumb caressed your head gently, as if to tell you he had everything under control. the small southern drawl he’d begun to pick up was more prominent. when the intruder finally left, you were forced to your feet, and coriolanus grabbed your ruined panties, resting on his knees below you to shove them into your used cunt, before making his way back to his feet, towering over you. he spoke to you like he would if he were on duty:

“you go on home now, miss. and tell your father i say hello.” 

and you did. 

౨ׅৎ

@dumbsoftheart, 2023

[walkswithmyfather]

1 John 1:5-9 (NASB).“This is the message we have heard from Him and announce to you, that God is Light, and in Him there is no darkness at all. If we say that we have fellowship with Him and yet walk in the darkness, we lie and do not practice the truth; but if we walk in the Light as He Himself is in the Light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus His Son cleanses us from all sin. If we say that we have no sin, we are deceiving ourselves and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, He is faithful and righteous to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.”

“The Struggle With Guilt” By In Touch Ministries:

“Jesus completely paid the penalty for all our sins—we don't need to punish ourselves.”

“Yesterday, we saw that because of Jesus’ sacrifice, we’re free from guilt. But at times we still feel ashamed. So let’s look a little deeper.

There are two types of guilt: biblical and false. The first originates with the violation of Scripture. This is not a feeling but a reality: We have sinned and should repent. The second, which involves continuing to feel guilty after confessing a sin, is not based in truth or supported by the Bible. God has forgiven us (Psalm 103:12), so there is no need to linger in shame.

People struggle with false guilt for many reasons. Legalistic teaching, for example, presents life as a series of rules that can never be followed perfectly. Self-reproach can also derive from verbal put-downs. Another cause is perfectionism—expectations we’re incapable of attaining can flood us with self-condemnation. Guilt leads us to doubt God’s love and salvation, which paves the way for fear and insecurity and leaves us unable to enjoy life. It can also open the door to physical and mental stress.

The heavenly Father wants His children to live free from guilt (Romans 8:1). If you experience shame, ask Him to help you trace its cause. Then affirm these truths: You are special (made in God’s image and redeemed byä ona Him), loved by the Creator of the universe, and forgiven.”

[Photo thanks to Amir Maleky at Unsplash]

[wutheringskies]

The Twin Jades

dude sometimes I just come across such bad meta. it's even worse if it starts off good and turns bad.

Good Meta Points:

• The Lans really love younger child Wangji (no pets allowed, but wangji can have them. Wangji wants lotus pod seeds and gets them etc.)

• Instead of giving agency to his actions and thoughts, they think he's being influenced or corrupted by others to act in such ways (especially Lan Qiren.)

Bad Meta Points

• Lan Wangji is spoilt, similar to Nie Huaisang or Jin Zixuan.

• Gets the lowest punishment at all times (pfft.)

• "I get it you waited 13 years but you fucked off into the sunset with your husband leaving your emotionally unstable brother and duties"

• "Good to see people talking about Lan Wangji's flaws" - mentions him being spoilt and demanding instead of his actual flaws.

Like... you cannot seriously point out how he gets to have rabbits as a point of him being spoilt. Lan Wangji has made like one error in his life in his studies. He's assigned himself punishment for stuff that wasn't even done by will (coughs, wwx). He's made his decisions and lived with the consequences.

Despite what you say, Lan Xichen isn't a terrible brother to Wangji. Neither is Lan Wangji a selfish brother.

Sibling relationships are complex, and between two individuals with their own set of values. Lan Wangji is totally righteous, even more than Nie Mingjue. He can't stand exaggerated, political loopholes and unrighteous acts. He does what he can do, working on the ground level.

Lan Xichen isn't Lan Wangji. He knows the world is filled with corrupted people, and challenging each and every one of them would lead to your own devastation (read: Wei Wuxian's biography). Thus, he tries extending his sympathy to all, and draws conclusions that allow the least possible damage. He does think Lan Wangji made a dire mistake with Wei Wuxian, because if not, he will have to face the fact that the world punished his brother for his righteousness and it would shatter his whole foundation (like it does).

But despite that, both of them share similarities. They both want the better of the world. Lan Wangji is brave enough to challenge the whole foundation of the cultivation world. Lan Xichen is brave enough to lay down peace even when it's so painfully obvious there's no option of it.

Lan Wangji trusts his brother enough to bring Wei Wuxian back to Cloud Recesses after getting stabbed at Jin Tower. Lan Xichen lives up to this trust and helps them investigate the matter. Lan Wangji even assures Wei Wuxian that his brother would not stand for Jin Guangyao if his crimes were true.

See, you don't have to completely have the same sort of sets of beliefs to be siblings. Sibling relationships are complex. Both these brothers know each other, their strengths and their weaknesses well. They may be exasperated at each other's insistence, yet they are well aware that they both have to walk their own paths.

Lan Xichen could never take away Lan Wangji's pain or fix him. Neither can Lan Wangji fix Lan Xichen.

But both of them will always have each other's backs. They are each other's families. Each other's brothers for life.

But at the same time, they have each their own paths to walk. People need to understand that it's not about a lack of sense of responsibility on Lan Wangji's side, but the realization that if he went back home, he may lose Wei Wuxian again. His uncle wants to take him back, lecture him and lock him into seclusion. His uncle wouldn't accept his proposal to be married to Wei Wuxian.

He doesn't give his uncle the chance to "accept" or not.

And he literally returns three months later.

I can't help but feel that those who say he was selfish do not have siblings. Or have bad sibling relationships. I'd say Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen have a perfectly good relationship if despite their differences, their terrible parentage, their opposing personalities, the roles they both played in each other's life (with Lan Xichen being sworn brothers to Jin Guangyao who played a major role in Wei Wuxian's fall, and Lan Wangji being Wei Wuxian's husband, who in turn, set the case back onto Jin Guangyao, thus hurting Lan Xichen), the things they couldn't help each other out of, but yet, they do trust each other and love each other.

And I trust that Lan Xichen will one day figure stuff out. There's a lyric in this MDZS song called unfettered. It is like:

The past is akin to dew in the morning. Even if it can be comprehended, it lays under layers and layers of fog.

In the end, hatred, love, resentment, debts and regrets all come to pass.

Just like how Lan Wangji is not his father, Lan Xichen will also not be his father. I don't think both of them had hurtful intentions towards the other at any point.

It's not like "Yunmeng bros" where JC intentionally wishes to cause pain to Wei Wuxian. It's not like the Nie bros, where NMJ has to be super over-protective of Huaisang.

It's just two siblings with their own lives choosing to be with each other, in happiness and in grief (mostly in grief uhm) in a terrible world where the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

[thenameofaslan]

King Edmund the Just - an Easter reflection

“If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” —1 John 1:9

It’s always bugged me that Edmund, the one for whom Aslan died, was declared “the Just.”

“Just” is defined as “based on or behaving according to what is morally right and fair.” But why, after all that Aslan had done for him, was Edmund not “the Merciful”? Didn’t Aslan’s mercy toward him cause Edmund to be merciful too?

Aslan wasn’t being “just” when he died for Edmund. He wasn’t being “morally right and fair.” If he was, he’d have let Edmund die for his treachery. That’s the moral and fair response to Edmund’s sins. 

In the same way, God would be “morally right and fair” to let US die for our sins. 

So why is God not described as “merciful and gracious” in this verse? Why is God described as “just,” if justice should mean we are punished for our sins?

I believe, personally, that it’s because of God’s promises. God is faithful and just—God does what is morally fair—when He does what He’s promised to us. 

When Jesus took our place on the cross, He took all of God’s wrath. For God to punish us further—for God to not forgive us—after Jesus TOOK our punishment would not be “faithful and just.” This is what “faithful and just” refers to. 

This is why Edmund is referred to as “the Just.” I believe that during his reign in Narnia and throughout his life in our world, Edmund is not just in the sense that he exacts punishment on those who are immoral—he is just because he gives mercy. Edmund sees the sacrifice Aslan made for him—and all of Narnia in the process—and he sees the punishment taken. 

Let us live by Edmund’s example—and God’s—and be just, extending mercy because the ultimate punishment was taken by Jesus.

Praise God that He is faithful and just regarding the promises He’s made to us. Praise God that He is faithful and just to forgive us when we confess. 

Happy Easter, Narnians! He Is Risen!

—Mod Ailora

[nevertheless-moving]

Jiang Wanyin's Dog Part Two (MDZS AU #7)

Part One

Jiang Feinman the diplomat is horrified that his sons were apparently actively training for war behind his back. And by all accounts, his worst fears are confirmed — he who trains for war trains to start war. He only believes half of what he hears of his boys actions at the Wen Indoctrination Camp (the Xuanwu Cave Massacre, some are calling it) but half is enough. Incredibly disappointed in both of them — also why demonic cultivation? Why? Where did he go wrong? But for some reason the more he tries to talk, to teach, to explain, the more he warns about the unrighteousness of striking first, the worse their conversations go. He's used to that with Jiang Cheng, but now Wei Ying, too? The more he pushes, the less they tell him, so eventually he stops pushing.

(They actually did initially intend to explain the time travel, but he was so disappointed by all the murdering that neither of them want to get into all the much much more worse things they did in their previous life so they just…don't. They don't explain shit.)

He still supports the secret Jiang war preparations cover story, pretending to have approved it in advance to other sects, because what else can he do. Really not thrilled about being backed into a corner on that, even though he does eventually accept and even admire the invention of the ghost path, once Wei Wuxian explains it better. Wei Wuxian maybe cries a little at his Uncle's approval.

Too much faith that the whole perfect servant/ master schtick is a front for brotherhood even before the actual reconciliation, but eh, they get there eventually, so he’s not wrong. Manages the homefront during the campaign mostly, though he has his moments of battlefield glory. Major diplomatic success in getting the Jin Sect to side more definitively with the sunshot campaign.

…Definitely dies. Not right away, but he's not meant for war, ya know? Maybe gets the actual time travel explanation on his death bed. Maybe. Touching goodbye either way.

Then, you know that scene in Good Will Hunting where Robin Williams says it’s not your fault over and over again? That, except Wei Wuxian and Jiang Wanyin are both saying it to each other. Clinches the reconnection. It’s the worst sort of do over, but Jiang Cheng blaming Wei Ying for his parents first deaths was one of their lowest moments, arguably the point things really started to break between them, so having the perspective to very actively not do that is Big. I’m sorry — this au is about excruciating Yunmeng bros reconciliation, I’ve got to kill at least one family member.

-

Yu Ziyuan approving of the cool distance between the two, proud of her son’s obvious command over Wei Ying, but disgusted by the fact that her son seems to have completely given up on surpassing him. Flabbergasted that A-Cheng is now intercepting Zidian’s strikes on the shameful cretin — his to punish?? What the fuck does that mean? Who’s in charge here? How dare you speak to your mother like that.

Ultimately, Jiang Cheng doesn’t know how to handle being around his mother. He recognizes many of the things he likes least about himself in her. He recognizes many of the things that made him a successful sect leader in her. I mean, on a certain level he already knew he had become his mother, but holy shit.

She's...mixed on handling her son's ascent, to say the least. The fact that his unquestionable power is so inextricably linked to his command over Wei Ying's even more unquestionable power fucks with her so bad. At least Jiang Cheng had some time to get used to the concept.

He's in his late 30s and bristles at any indication of being subordinate to anyone — Mom's included. He also wants to break down in tears and hide behind her, because that's his MOM, but he can’t do that. He’s sect heir. He's started a war. He's leading a war.

Ok, one (1) night crying into her robes that they never speak of again.

She tends to run battlefields and missions away from the duo. Serious pushback from Jiang Cheng about talking down Wei Ying in front of others, purely for pragmatic reasons, of course — that’s their sects best weapon. If she survives the war ("So what if he's not coming back? Can't I do anything without him?") then she spends much of her son’s rule night hunting away from the sect. Does NOT get told about time travel any time soon because they know she would press for details and then kill Wei Wuxian.

-

Jiang Yanli incredibly concerned about her boys after they come back from evil summer camp covered in blood and VERY CLEARLY WAY TOO FUCKED UP FOR A FEW MONTHS AWAY?? Excuse you both you are very clever but are you seriously trying to convince me that you invented a whole ass entire dangerous cultivation path while I was around without me noticing? A-xian, a-cheng are you calling me stupid? No? Good.

On a meta-level, she's built her life around parenting the two of them, there's absolutely no way she buys any story about keeping a long time secret under her nose. The first and possibly only one they actually explain the time travel to, even if they can’t bring themselves to tell her everything.

It's deeply distressing to not actually be the oldest sibling anymore, considering how much she defined herself by that, but her brothers don't actually seem to have noticed, so it works out fine.

Her role in the war is slightly larger than canon; the fact that she's bringing an entire support staff of cooks and medics and cleaners that report to her definitely elevates her status and influence. (Headcanon that she basically managed Jiang Wanyin and Wei Wuxian's PR during the war — she's a lot better equipped to do so in this timeline).

She also would also get Instant Respect as one of a handful of people who holds Wuxian's leash, except Wei Wuxian tends to completely drops all necromantic activity when he's within 50 feet of her. It's actually kindof a problem. He's supposed to be passively maintaining some stuff but he's so freaked out about accidentally hurting her that a few perfectly good corpse armies collapse, meaning he has to raise them again from scratch.

They don't get too involved with it, but a few well timed words avoid the worst of the Soup Accusation Debacle and slightly accelerate the Zixuan/Yanli timeline.

Jin Zixuan is bewildered but mostly relieved by the fact that the lead Jiang disciples abrupt personality shift at the start of the war also came with an apparent rise in personal respect of him specifically? Is this because he obviously stepped to defend Mianmian, even though Wanyin and Wuxian did the real work? Jiang Wanyin is noticeably more courteous speaking to him than pretty much anyone else from his clan. Wei Wuxian is a bit harder to read, as he's stopped talked as much, which is bizarre and also fucking terrifying.

(There's a lot to think and feel in the Cave of the Xuanwu of Slaughter. But the fact that Wei Wuxian does not like him and absolutely could have killed him anytime he wanted is definitely up there.)

It's just — even further into the war, when Wuxian starts sometimes relaxing again during downtime, he still avoids Zixuan. Weird but also thank fuck.

-

Lan Zhan is living through a war, sure. But uniquely among his peers, he's also living through a Dark Romance novel! <3

The fun, mischievous boy who he fell in love with at first sight is:

1) the most terrifying powerful dark being who ever lived

2) mildly implied to have ALWAYS secretly been like this and the disobedient but good natured thing was just a cover for the dark truth. Or he might have been corrupted at some point. It's unclear.

3) already in an intense situation-ship with his shidi. (Jiang Wanyin snapping at Wei Ying to stop bothering Lan Zhan and he apologizes politely and then leaves. (Wei Ying definitely yells at Jiang Cheng in private for that but they did agree that he wouldn’t give any public evidence of division with the Jiang sect and publicly flirting with Second Master Lan could admittedly be read as split loyalties)) .

But IN PRIVATE —

(Once the yunmeng bros reconciliation starts getting underway Jiang Cheng feels a little bad about how obviously heartbroken Wei Ying is over losing his husband, and formally arranges with Lan sect for spiritual cleansing sessions after major battles as part of managing his first disciple’s cultivation. Wei Ying and Jiang Cheng are completely surprised when Lan Wanjii himself volunteers.)

— Well, when the two of them are alone together, Wei Ying is — not exactly the same person he fell in love with. But he’s still very much Wei Ying. Teasing, provocative, brilliant, righteous — and, and this can’t be stressed enough — OBSCENELY sexy.

(Yes, Lan Zhan has learned that his bad taste extends beyond what was, in hindsight, rather petty rule breaking. The whole 'One Man Army' thing is attractive alright? The flute is attractive. Gods help him, even the red eyes are attractive.)

But in private — I mean, the first few times Lan Zhan walks in to play Cleansing only to find Wei Ying tied up provocatively from a ‘binding talisman accident’ he takes it at face value. The man's been churning out one revolutionary invention after another, obviously that requires some testing. But it keeps happening, and Lan Zhan is increasingly panicked that Wei Ying can tell what its doing to his penis. He can’t tell, right? Lan Zhan is wearing extra layers to these sessions for that reason exactly and it’s not like his face is easy to read. He can’t know about what he's dreamed of doing with his ribbon. He can't know. He can’t know.

But shit like that keeps happening. Wei Ying casually mentions that he’s been working on a ritual that might make it possible for men to get pregnant, just as an idle experiment, but of course the only ethical person to test it on is himself. Lan Zhan’s dick gets so hard so fast that he almost passes out. Wei Ying, clearly mistaking the sudden lack of visible blood in his body for disgust (please let him think that, please, please) pouts and teases, “What, you don’t think I’d look good pregnant?” Gods be good, he’s holding his stomach and looking up at Lan Zhan through his eyelashes. Lan Zhan didn't even know he was into that! Does this make him more of a cutsleeve or less?? Very nearly goes insane and tries to breed him on the spot. Instead makes a looney toons style Lan Zhan shaped hole in the side of the tent to get away before he bends the man over

Even setting aside the...specifically affecting moments, Wei Ying is so exhausted and soft around Lan Zhan. It makes sense, he's been conquering battlefields, he's been reinventing cultivation, of course he's drained afterwards, that's why Lan Zhan is here — to help rebalance his spiritual energy. But he begs Lan Zhan to take care of him, to feed him, to help him into bed, and it hurts. He knows that it's at least in part a joke but he can't tell how much is him exaggerating his weakness to get Lan Zhan to react and how much is him actually needing help because Jiang fucking Wanyin is ordering him to destroy himself day in and day out, and the whole thing is doing terrible things to the inside of his stomach.

Worry and confusion and fear and anger choking his words even worse than usual, until all he can do is repeat rules about staying away from the crooked path. Lan Zhan scolds him for using resentful energy, sneers at him; he can hear himself and he sounds every inch the jade statue. But somehow, miraculously, Wei Ying understands what he means. He thanks him for being there, for caring what happens to him. Wei Ying tries to reassure him that he'll be alright, really, and how he got 'I am worried about your health' from "your way of living is an abomination" is a mystery, but Lan Zhan is so, so grateful.

Wait.

Fuck.

Wei Ying can either read his face, his words, or his thoughts. FUCK, HE TOTALLY KNOWS WHAT HE'S DOING TO MY PENIS.

In public, Wei Wuxian is obediently violent. He's heretical and hyper competent and the only thing that distresses Lan Zhan more than Jiang Wanyin's callous treatment of his undeserved loyalty and talent is the fact that he's starting to wake up in a cold sweat from dreams where Lan Zhan is his leader and Wei Ying follows his orders without hesitation. What does that even mean. He doesn't want to be a sect leader! That would mean that his brother was dead and he would have to talk to people all the time and he doesn't even want Wei Ying to kneel before him! Not like that — not at all — fucking hell, he should not be masturbating this much during a war.

(Not explaining the time travel/ marriage to Lan Zhan is definitely their worst argument after coming back. Difficult compromise says Wei Ying can explain whatever, marry whoever, leave the sect — but only after the war is won and Jiang Sect is secure. Jiang Wanyin does not need Lan Zhan trying to convince Wei Ying to give up demonic cultivation any harder than he already is. He doesn't need him weighing in on shit he doesn't understand with his more-righteous-than-you-attitude. Most importantly, he definitely doesn't need Wei Ying to be running of after his husband when he's supposed to be obeying Jiang Cheng's fucking orders. Wei Ying reluctantly agrees, but he can't give up on having something with Lan Zhan. The end result is maybe a little not great to Lan Zhan, but you know... what's Wei Ying gonna do? Betray his brother's trust? Not chase Lan Zhan's dick? It's an impossible situation and you should feel bad for him. Plus, Lan Zhan's having a hard enough time anyway, he's not good with chang. He would probably not handle having the 'died and then married' bombshells dropped on him particularly well. Yeah...

Anyway Lan Zhan is very much going through 'he's such a tortured soul...only I see the vulnerable, loving truth... unless the soft self is the lie and the darkness is the real him... which would be kindof hot... bad, but also kindof hot... because if he actually is irredeemably evil than everything he does in private is him seducing me on purpose, which would be good except it would be a lie which would be bad but maybe he would do things to my body before he did whatever dark demonic things hes planning ... maybe I could convince him to join the light in truth... no i should have more faith in him he clearly still believes in justice and protecting the weak... unless that actually is at Jiang Wanyin's orders but I'm 80% sure that's a lie and Wei Ying is actually the one insisting we don't take food from farmers without repaying them and I'm even more certain he's the one making sure we accept Wen surrenders... I'm a terrible person for doubting the moments we've shared...

Lan Zhan eventually has a minor emotional breakdown and goes to his brother for advice.

The straw that breaks the camels back is working himself into a panic that Wei Ying might be trying to get him to kill his own brother. It's just... he keeps having sect leader/loyal guard sex dreams. They've been getting more elaborate. There's leather for some reason. And then one time his spiritual energy is too depleted after a battle and Xiongzhang covered his cleansing session, and Lan Zhan had to lay in bed healing. Laying there for hours imagining Wei Ying call Xichen 'gege' and get all soft limbed the way he does in his tent after battle... asking to put his head in Xichen's lap. Wearing just his inner robes around Xichen. The intensity of the rage leads him to suspect a dark spell. (It's just vinegar and lust and the cain instinct, but again, Lan Zhan is going through it.)

Lan Xichen hearing the stripped down version of all this like... honey. Sweet child. What the actual fuck.

Yes, I'm sure he's different when he's with you but... Wanjii. Wanjii, please. Think with your brain, not — I am not the one bringing vulgarity into this, don't look at me like that. A-Zhan. No, brother, you can't 'fix' him. Wanjii why even ask me for advice if you're just going to keep doing the same thing.

Xichen really already had enough on his plate before learning that Wei Wuxian is playing psychsexual mind games with his little brother for nefarious reason.

To be fair to Xichen, he absolutely is doing that, even though it's only half on purpose. But those nefarious end goals are in fact sex and marriage, something he's CONFIDENT Lan Zhan would enjoy! Look, Wei Ying knows he could have sat on Lan Zhan's dick day one, even before establishing a real emotional connection, even before providing some evidence that he's not a literal demon seducing him into darkness. He feels he's showing an awful lot of unappreciated restraint in allowing Lan Zhan to come to him when he's ready to move past the whole 'raising undead armies' and 'upending the natural order' and 'my family will never approve' things.

(alright, it hurts more than he cares to admit to himself to see Lan Zhan look at him with fear, with disgust. He's sticken with worry and grief that without their experience in the Xuanwu Cave something fundamental will be missing between them. But it doesn't take too long before Lan Zhan says something so Lan Zhan that it assures him the care and love is still there. Its not the same but Lan Zhan still insists on following him around during the campaign, which means the chance to create New memories side by side and it's...good.)

Plus, younger Lan Zhan is so much easier to fluster and its INCREDIBLY fun to have the upper hand. The man has not finished developing his thick face — he misses his husband like a limb, like an organ, but the younger model squirms so good.

WAY too much of this is relayed to Jiang Cheng during their daily war strategy/ bro gossip sessions.

I actually think Jiang Cheng, in exchange for being the sole person who has to listen to Wei Ying’s (often graphic) pining over Lan Zhan, should get to out his brother.

He should get to out him a few times! For fun and for profit. It’s like wingman-ing, but bitchy, which is I think very in character. Wei Ying is either amused by the various reactions, or in the case of Lan Zhan, genuinely thankful. Sure ‘letting lan zhan come to me when he’s ready and more cool with the ghostly path’ is maybe the right thing to do, but it kinda sucks ass. Also Lan Zhan might actually have a lust induced Qi deviation if he doesn't fuck Wei Ying soon, though you would think that leaving a conspicuously large jade phallus laying around would be enough of a hint. Whatever, let's throw some black powder on that slow burn!

Jiang Cheng implies he might be open to marry Wei Wuxian out of the sect after the war. Sect leaders ‘causally’ asking what sort of girl his ridiculously OP and perfectly servile first disciple might be interested in. Jiang Cheng nonchalantly describing Lan Wanjii to a T (tall, strong in cultivation, musically talented, more inclined to listen than to talk...) while Lan Wanjii pretends not to have accidentally bitten through a spoon.

Someone trying to offer their daughter to the Jiang Clan ("I noticed your young master Wuxian couldn’t help but compliment her beauty—“ “He compliments everyone's beauty. Don’t take it seriously.”). Lan Zhan happens to be there, waiting for an unrelated meeting, and Jiang Cheng can't help but take the opportunity to fuck with him.

Jiang Cheng: Ridiculous petition, don’t you think. Lan Zhan: Mn. Jiang Cheng: As if I’d approve a marriage with everyone my shixiong flirts with. Lan Zhan: Mn. Jiang Cheng: (Pausing while he waits for Lan Zhan to take a sip of tea): He’s obviously a cut sleeve anyway. Lan Zhan: [choking]

After the immediate joy of watching the younger Jade lose his composure, there is later regret because Wei Wuxian is thanking him for giving Lan Zhan a push and. Ugh.

Jin Zixuan on the other hand accidentally gets convinced that Wei Wuxian is in gay love with Jiang Wanyin, while Jiang Wanyin sees Wei Wuxian as a brother, a dynamic Zixuan works very hard to avoid thinking about.

The two sect heirs are having a post battle drink (things weren’t bad between him and the peacock, at the end at least, and it might help things in the future (visiting future nieces and nephews) if they could at least be amicable acquaintances).

The evening's going well enough that Jin Zixuan works up the courage to awkwardly ask about rumors of a betrothal between Wei Wuxian and Jiang Yanli. Wanyin surprises Zixuan by laughing, instead of getting incandescently angry. Sure, they’ve been drinking, but he didn’t even yell! At all! Jiang Wanyin, still laughing, leans it and confideds that Wei Wuxian has been in love with the same man for years.

Zixuan, shocked: "Wait a man? He’s —" Wanyin, taking another drink: "No sleeves." Zixuan, slightly confused why he’s even being told what's obviously a politically valuable secret: “Who—” Wanyin, forgetting that Wei Ying’s mooning over Lan Zhan is not actually that public, and Lan Zhan’s staring at Wei Ying just looks like glaring unless you’ve been unfortunately coached on reading his microexpressions. Also forgetting that people do not generally understand exactly what’s going on between the Jiang Sect’s heir and first disciple, except that it’s weird and intense: “Take a FUCKING guess” Zixuan: “Holy shit — you mean — oh man, that’s —“ Wanyin: “Yeah. You’re not the one who has to live with him.” Zixuan: “Couldn’t you — I mean does he have to be here — couldn’t he operate on different battlefields— Wanyin, suddenly enraged: the FUCK does that mean?? Zixuan: What? What did I — Wanyin: you got a PROBLEM with my cutsleeve brother?!? Zixuan: I thought — I thought you — did you say brother — Wanyin: FUCK YOU! Zixuan: I don’t — Wanyin: You think being a demonic rabbit stops him from being my brother?? Zixuan: I didn’t say — Wanyin: This is why your siblings are going to hate you! Zixuan: I — my — what do you mean siblings?? Wanyin: You don’t just — I’m not gonna — you don’t just abandon family! You don’t — you don’t send them away! You don't let them leave and face danger on their own! You don’t abandon them! It doesn’t matter if they’re a cutsleeve pervert or too into murdering people to solve problems! Got it? Zixuan: Alright, fine, sorry — Wanyin: GOT IT?!? Zixuan: Alright! Alright, I got it! Wanyin, sitting back down, muttering: Maybe if you were a better brother your half siblings won’t fuck everything up. Zixuan: what? Wanyin: Let’s get this straight — I get to make fun of Wei Wuxian. But until you marry our sister you don’t get to say shit. Zixuan: I — marry — no one said I — there’s no — Wanyin: GOT IT??T? Zixuan: Okay! Okay, I got it!

Jin Zixuan is extremely relieved to spend the rest of the night drinking in silence.

Close to the end of the war someone messes with their privacy talismans while snooping. So their daily checkin gets overheard and a bunch of people hear them bicker like children (threatening to pee in each other’s socks comes up) and laugh about someone's stupid hat, and trade jokes over a meal, which ruins their Untouchably Intense And Threatening Aura somewhat but honestly the aura was a bit much. Like, we’re allies, aren’t we?

Honestly a relief for a lot of people to find out they’re just teen brothers who are good at killing and putting on a very convincing facade (Wei Wuxian literally calls it his ‘scary face’). ALSO Jiang Cheng makes fun of Wei Ying for his super embarrassing crush, “So he actually greeted you in public! When should I expect a marriage offer?!’” which Wei Ying responds to by describing how lonely his butthole is and the various objects he’s been using to makes himself feel less forlorn, which Jiang Cheng responds to with wretching and throwing things.

So that’s some fun gossip.

(Xichen in particular is relieved that his brother hasn't wildly misjudged Wei Ying's true character, and that the Lan Sect probably isn't going to get subsumed by the Jiang)

The wider cultivation world eventually (post war) gets the explanation that Wei Wuxian can remember his past lives and that’s why he’s Like That.

Life One heavily implied to be evil warlord inventor with some connection to the burial mounds, possibly creating them, who was so reviled as to be wiped from the history texts, fracturing his soul to where Meng Po’s soup leaks out. So that explains a lot. Makes way more sense than someone inventing a whole new cultivation path at seventeen, haha.

Life Two heavily implied to be happy wife of a respected cultivator, which...huh.

(past life husband eventually revealed to be Lan Wanjii’s past reincarnation, who did not remember this but is unfortunately still in love. The public finds the story unbelievably romantic. His family is not thrilled. The cultivation world has mixed).

Timeline on all this unconfirmed. Amount of time in-between reincarnations indeterminate, he doesn’t remember. Will tell anyone who asks too many details about being an excellent wife — apparently he gave his husband a beautiful son but seriously don’t ask because he WILL cry and it’s very disturbing. Vaguely implies that he could be any number of people's grandmother.

Smaller number of people know that Jiang Wanyin also remembers his past lives to some extent, but he won’t talk about it. Wei Wuxian very solemnly whispering to fascinated cultivators that when he went insane in his first life Jiang Wanyin lead an army to stop him and that’s why he trusts him so much to keep under control as his leader now. I repeat: Jiang Wanyin will NOT be taking questions.

My MDZS AU Masterlist

[thewordfortheday]

When we trust Jesus as our Lord and Saviour, our sins are forgiven, the stains from our past are wiped clean from our record; however, we're a fallen people, so we do commit sin. We still have to contend with our tendency to do wrong--and we must also deal with the consequences. We have to confess our sins, seek forgiveness and turn away from them. The Lord's payment for our transgressions means that we can look forward to an eternity spent in God's presence instead of getting the punishment we deserve. But that doesn't give us a licence to sin. We're new creatures in Christ, bought for a price and set free from sin to live as partakers of His grace. We are to live as children of Light in this dark world.If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.

[mxtxfanatic]

Heyy ✨ hope you're having a good day. I wanted to ask:

What are your views on lan qiren and the so called "righteous" lan sect?

Their hypocrisy baffles me SO MUCH especially if we see the parallel drawn between the situations of madam lan and wwx. Without even knowing the full story or giving them a chance to explain their actions they just serve their judgement upon them. They spend their whole lives conforming to a set of strict rules but then go on and break those same rules (which they punish and berate others for) when it suits them .They go on about rules to not be prideful, to not be arrogant but ARE prideful borderline arrogant about the fact that they are righteous, that they are elegant, that they are the LAN sect . Again, They have rules for forbidding gossip and to not make assumptions but all the judgements they laid about wwx were based upon rumors. The RUMOURS they didn't even bother to check. Moreover, after the siege when they were all proved wrong, they (and all of the jianghu) just kept silent. They didn't even acknowledge their mistakes and wrongdoings. They didn't correct the false assumptions about the wen remnants. They kept on willfully being blind. They fucking portrayed the history with THEM being the beacons of justice and then have the AUDACITY, the NERVE to call themselves righteous, moral and good. I recently read a post comparing wwx and the lan righteous and I couldn't agree more with it.

I'm sorry I'm new to Tumblr idk how to attach it here (I think I was successful at adding a link). Basically it was drawing a parallel between Hindu religious texts like Bhagwadgeeta and Mahabharata with MDZS pertaining to morality and righteousness, and the parallel drawn between Lord Krishna and Wwx's character.

""  The lesson is - don’t do good deeds out of pride or with the desire to win God’s favor. Do it because being righteous is its own reward. That is the distinct difference between the Lan righteousness, which has become performative - done to preserve reputation and save face, and WWX’s righteousness, which is done simply because it is the right thing to do. The former is a slippery slope that can lead to mistakes and an unrighteous path. The latter is a difficult but ultimately the superior path."

Pheww... I'm sorry.😭 I got carried away and started ranting 😅 but it just makes me so MAD. it was so unfair what happened and the jianghu didn't got any punishment neither did they repent. I bet, post canon, even after the whole truth is out, they wouldn't treat my boy wwx as he deserves.

So coming back to the question what is your take about the lan sect and lan qiren?

Btw I love your blog 🥰especially your takes on MDZS. Your arguments and opinions are very concise and factual it leaves less to be desired.

This is a very long and engaging exchange I once had with @/ladyqueth on the topic, and with a few small changes to my view on Lan Xichen (I said he "isn't shown to have learned" by the end of the novel when I should have said he's still processing; the former makes it sound like he pulls a jc or lqr) and a caveat that there is validity to wangxian choosing to leave the Cloud Recesses to enter seclusion elsewhere and I just couldn't find it during that convo, this is pretty much how I still feel.

Idk who said it or if this would even apply to a translation of mdzs since I do not know the language breakdown, but someone once said that it was a mistake that cultivation sects/clans got translated as "righteous" instead of "orthodox," because "righteous" holds a connotation in English that doesn't necessarily carry through to what is meant when used to describe the clans/sect in cultivation cnovels. Can't say that you are a "righteous" cultivator in a world where it is perfectly acceptable and expected of you to kill someone on the street and steal their stuff just because they're weaker than you. That's like the opposite of righteousness as English speakers use the word lmao!

[rosethornewrites]

T & G reading since 7/25

Finished

Teen:

Fact Check (出面辟谣, 以正视听), by dragongirlG (🔒)

出面辟谣, 以正视听: to come forth and refute rumors so that the truth may be revealed

In an effort to preserve Wei Wuxian's reputation, Lan Wangji writes pointed reviews of shoddy cultivation tools which use the Yiling Laozu's name for marketing.

Written for Bearer of Light: a Lan Wangji fanzine.

A tapestry of us, by jalpari

Lan Wangji and Sizhui, through different eyes over the years.

Good Fortune Lies Within Bad, by ereshai

Whatever had happened must have been recent - the child, who they had discovered crying all alone outside the house, was scared and probably hungry, but otherwise unhurt.

Crimson leaves, by barisan (3 chapters)

There is a world where Wei Wuxian could not take another word of slander towards a mother whose smile he couldn’t even remember, a father whose embrace he couldn’t recall the warmth of.

A world where he could not take another beating, another misplaced punishment, another thoughtless insult.

Perhaps he grows tired of fooling himself into thinking that he has a place in Lotus Pier.

That he belongs.

That he is wanted.

Loved.

A Better Lie, by nirejseki

Wait.

This wasn't the Lan sect, with all its strict rules and stricter morality.

This was the Nie.

(Meng Yao identifies an opportunity.)

Descent, by nirejseki

Lan Qiren was old. Lan Qiren was tired.

General:

tiny gentians, by humancorn

Lan Wangji scolds five year old Wei Wuxian and deals with the consequences.

Taking Responsibility, by bavariansugarcookie

Lan Zhan is doing his best to ignore Wei Ying while he's supervising Wei Ying's punishment in the library - but even Lan Zhan's patience isn't infinite.

Or what would happen if Lan Zhan kissed Wei Ying in the Gusu Lan library.

Unfinished

Teen:

A Fire in Your Heart, by Whichie

Cangse Sanren was wild and untamable, playfull and carefree, a kitsune down to her very core. Her son was no different.

Wei Wuxian was not meant to be caged, but when Madam Yu locked his kitsune nature inside himself, he found out quickly that the world will never want someone like him. Better to hide away. Better to pretend to be a normal human than face the consequences of being a fox spirit among cultivators trained to take you out.

That is, until he goes to Gusulan for the lectures, and finds someone who sees past every twisted chain.

A Songbird at Dawn, by mondengel (🔒)

At a discussion conference, Wen Ruohan discovers something he hadn't known he'd lost. As it happens, being a grandfather suits him rather well.

General:

but I figured it out, then made my way back, by MichelleFeather

It was an extreme, a desperate decision fueled by anger towards the entire cultivation world, a grief deeper than the deepest trenches in the ocean. The realization that Lan Wangji would now have to continue on living a second time without his beloved, where Wei Wuxian had died once again. Where, once more, his love had been taken from him by cruel, unrighteous men who thought they knew better, that they were doing the world a justice.

Lan Qiren had seen the state that his nephew had been in after Wei Wuxian’s first death, what Lan Wangji had done in his grief then, and he feared what Lan Wangji would do to himself if he was left alone with this repeated grief.

I Have Arranged to Tie You to Me, by xxxMiaHikarixxx

Lan Wangji is bedridden after receiving the thirty-three strikes as his punishment. He has just been informed of Wei Ying's death. He is convinced he'll never see his beloved again and his soul mourns the loss of him. But something happens in the Jingshi that forces Lan Wangji back to the past, almost three years before Wei Ying visits Cloud Recesses. Lan Wangji is determined to change the past and make sure his beloved is safe and treated with the respect he deserves this time.

[jesus-is-lord-and-savior]

then the Lord knows how to rescue the godly from trials, and to keep the unrighteous under punishment until the day of judgment,

(2 Peter 2:9, ESV)

[haniiluvsyou]

Overcoming Guilt and Self Pity

When we sin, guilt often consumes us because we've wronged God or someone we love. We dwell on these thoughts and regret our actions, feeling immense pain and believing we deserve to suffer.

However, this way of thinking is very exhausting. We fall into self-pity and negative thinking that affects our work, relationships, and overall well-being. Despite wanting to move on and learn from our mistakes, we struggle. We convince ourselves that dwelling in self-pity and suffering is the best response instead of moving forward.

The truth is, the devil wants us trapped in this state of despair. He wants us to remain depressed, hopeless, afraid to try again, and do nothing. This contrasts sharply with God's intentions for us. God wants us to seek forgiveness, let go of guilt, and continue progressing in our lives.

While we feel the urge to punish ourselves or doubt that God can forgive us, we should pause and remember that we are already forgiven by God through the blood of Christ. We must remind ourselves that when we confess our sins, God is faithful and just to forgive us and cleanse us from all unrighteousness (1 John 1:9). After seeking forgiveness, we should strive to avoid intentional sinning. We must be cautious in our actions and steadfast against temptations.

In summary, rather than punishing ourselves, we should seek forgiveness, release our guilt, and move forward in faith. God has already forgiven us. The enemy seeks to keep us enslaved to sin and suffering, but God's grace and mercy set us free. This allows us to cultivate a healthy relationship with Him and embrace a life guided by His love and forgiveness.

Inspired by Sacred Words https://youtu.be/c2dQuWBBjOc?si=qBtzDU6i3FCPwtrh

[rdr2stories]

"Punishment" a rdr fanfiction.

A short rdr fanfiction in an au where it was not Agent Ross who killed John.

It was like looking at a ghost, seeing you that is, because while I recognized you as your own person, as the little kid I knew all those years ago, running around asking if anyone had found any comic books and making flower crowns for your mother, I also saw him in you.

I could see his determination in your eyes, the kind that only came from strong desire and a feeling of unjustness, unrightfulness, your life was not easy growing up, was it? We tried our best, we all did, to keep you safe and out of danger, to give you a better life than we had had. I am sorry it didn’t work out, I am sorry I made it even worse.

You wear your hair like he did when we were young, down to your shoulders. I bet it is a mess to brush out in the mornings, I remember his was, he always complained about, would often ask me to help, though only when we were out of the eyes of the others, when they couldn’t see my hands softly stroking over his rough hair, brushing it out ever so carefully.

The fact that he ever denied you as his seems ridiculous looking at you now, like a bad joke no one would even find funny because the truth is so obvious… Yet that being said, you are different from him, even when you hold his fun and wear his hat, the one with the small feather, you are different, you are naive, you are sloppy, aggressive, you don’t have his skill or his finesse.

This isn’t your life, is it? This is your first time pointing a gun at a man, is it not? It is quite funny actually as the last time I did it, it was at him. My life will be the first you take, seems fitting as the last I took was your fathers.

It brings me joy because it tells me you didn’t have to grow up as he, stealing, robbing, murdering, having a noose around your neck by the age of twelve. He did right by you, gave you all he never had.

I guess another difference between the two of you is that you don’t stall, he did, I did. He did it because he cared for me, I doubt you even remember me, to him I was a friend, maybe more, to you I am the man who ripped your father from you, that is why you have already pulled the trigger. Your father hadn’t been able to, while he had pointed the gun at me, he didn’t pull it, he had talked to me, slowly lowering it as my hands remained in the air. We had too many memories for him to just shot, yet he had too much on his shoulders for him not to point the gun.

Maybe if he had been like you he would still be alive and I wouldn’t have been walking around praying for someone to wash his blood off my hands, I doubted he would have wanted mine on his either, but rather mine than your mothers. His loyalty laid with her, it had for many years, no matter how much I wish I could gain it back and if the law told him that her safety and the immunity of your family was guaranteed with my death, then my death he would have… Even if I could see in his eyes that it would not weigh easily on his shoulders.

When I say I am sorry for what I did, I mean it, I wanted nothing more but for you to be safe, for him to be safe, for your mother to be safe, though knowing her she is most likely dead, otherwise you would not be here, she wouldn’t let you. “You do the hanging, not the swinging, you hear me?” I remember she told you that one day, all she ever wanted for you was to become a lawyer, or at least someone who didn’t run when the law came around.

I tried to run away from him you know? Your father. I shoved a crate on him and jumped out of the window, and then I ran, I ran and ran and shot anywhere but near him, hoping to scare him off so I could disappear, but his horse stumbled and he fell. A bullet hit him and he was dead on the spot, never suffered, never hurt, most likely never realised what happened, I barely did.

My horse had barely come to a stop before I was on the ground, stumbling over to his body, looking down at the empty eyes I had once went for comfort to. I had cradled his lifeless body in my arms, warm tears running down my cheeks as he went cold and I prayed to any god that might exist for our fates to switch, that it was a father and not a criminal who would walk away from there.

 For three years I had lived iolated in the mountains, hiding from reality, myself, the truth of what I have done, things that you can run but never hide from, and god had yet to appear, he had yet to make things right, yet to do anything, until now, he has brough you to me and I will gladly let you ring the bells of judgement and bring me my punishment.

----

Also yes, I did also post this in another version, written in third person pov, because I didn't know which worked best so I have made both.

[jujurose222]

Enoch Chapter 67

Describing an alchemical process

“4. And He will imprison those angels, who have shown unrighteousness, in that burning valley which my grandfather Enoch had formerly shown to me in the west among the mountains of gold and silver and iron and soft metal and tin.

5. And I saw that valley in which there was a great convulsion and a convulsion of the waters.

6. And when all this took place, from that fiery molten metal and from the convulsion thereof in that place, there was produced a smell of sulphur, and it was connected with those waters, and that valley of the angels who had led astray (mankind) burned beneath that land.

7. And through its valleys proceed streams of fire, where these angels are punished who had led astray those who dwell upon the earth.

8. But those waters shall in those days serve for the kings and the mighty and the exalted, and those who dwell on the earth, for the healing of the body, but for the punishment of the spirit; now their spirit is full of lust, that they may be punished in their body, for they have denied the Lord of Spirits and see their punishment daily, and yet believe not in His name.

9. And in proportion as the burning of their bodies becomes severe, a corresponding change shall take place in their spirit for ever and ever; for before the Lord of Spirits none shall utter an idle word…

11. And those same waters will undergo a change in those days; for when those angels are punished in these waters, these water-springs shall change their temperature, and when the angels ascend, this water of the springs shall change and become cold.

12. And I heard Michael answering and saying: ‘ This judgement wherewith the angels are judged is a testimony for the kings and the mighty who possess the earth.

13. Because these waters of judgement minister to the healing of the body of the kings and the lust of their body; therefore they will not see and will not believe that those waters will change and become a fire which burns for ever.”

[wutheringskies]

Lan-Furen's Case and Lan Zhan

A couple of days ago I came across an excellent meta on Lan Xichen over how by not "wanting to know" who is in the right and who is in the wrong, he is able to maintain a schrodinger's cat syndrome and assume the best of everyone. I thought more about what that then meant for Lan Wangji who visited his mother publicly every month.

Lan Wangji is an extremely righteous character. He has a temper against those that he deems as unrighteous. He can absolutely not take it if someone is using their privilege to oppress others; or if, someone is killing innocents for baseless, useless reasons.

Someone like Lan Wangji would not continue loving a person even if they act for their own gains, petty revenge or selfishly. Simply stating, he can't continue loving a person who has left the road of righteousness.

In his mother's case, it doesn't seem as if bigger forces (such as sect politics) were involved; but it was something personal. We do not know what that something was, thus we cannot judge. Thus, he cannot judge.

I believe his coming over to the Gentian House every month shows perhaps the most important characteristic of his:

Lan WangJi slowly shook his head, “One should not comment without understanding the whole picture.”

I find Lan Wangji and Nie Mingjue's insistence upon their sense of justice similar. Even in dire situations, where it seems stupid to act upon your sense of justice, when everyone around you is acting unjustly, they will insist - Lan Wangji stuck in a cave, injured, protecting someone who is being harassed by those who hold power, hunted down by enemies who are much higher on the social ladder, own much more money, and are many in numbers, despite knowing, inevitably it may cause his own demise and fall. Yet, he doesn't care about that. This happens twice. That's his sense of righteousness and justice. Similarly, Nie Mingjue is ready to kill himself as punishment for killing someone who saved him, yet he must kill Guangyao for killing his clansmen and stuff (so much killing with this guy.)

But Lan Wangji is better, as his justice is embedded with empathy, patience and true efforts to understand the entire story before placing his judgement. He's not free from making false judgements, and societal judgement does affect him.

But, he's not holding to any particular judgement to the ends of his life. He is willing to accept new facts and reform his opinion, reframe his thoughts. He's like that guy on twitter who tweeted something tone-deaf in 2012, but is completely against that in 2023, as now he has new information.

So, Lan Wangji doesn't incriminate people. He doesn't hold personal grudges. He is prone to hatred, jealousy and the stuff - that is what makes him human. But he rarely acts upon it, preferring to remove himself from the situation.

He is such a person.

So, it cannot be known whether the glass was filled and then emptied, or whether it was empty and then it was filled; what I mean is we can't judge from just a half-full/half-empty glass of what the context was; similarly, we can't judge from just the other's actions and situations alone of what the intention, purpose, reasoning, etc was. We can't judge evil or bad that easily, and with all those who were involved in Madam Lan's case - all their souls dispersed, and Lan Qiren being Lan Qiren, Lan Wangji can only judge on what he knows.

What he knows is that his mother was a lovely woman and he was happy to see her; so he visits her still. He is not accepting her actions, or incriminating them, as she is not there to defend herself or to accuse others. He doesn't know if the clan was wrong or if his mother was. I believe, with Lan Wangji's character, that he's strong enough to face the actions of those who he loves.

It’d be inconvenient for him to be more specific, such as Lan XiChen or Lan QiRen.

Lan WangJi answered assuredly, “No.”

Wei WuXian was quite confident in Lan WangJi’s answer. To him, Lan WangJi wasn’t the kind of person who’d hide or run away from the truth. If he denied it, that meant it must have been wrong. He didn’t like to lie, either. In Wei WuXian’s opinion, if someone asked Lan WangJi to lie, he’d rather silence himself and not talk at all. Thus, Wei WuXian immediately excluded the possibility of the gravedigger being these two.

So, this. If Lan Wangji felt any of Wei Wuxian's actions were uncalled for, or unrighteous and cruel, he wouldn't have loved him. But, even by the logic of Great Grudges, Wei Wuxian had every right to kill the Wens (the SSC ones).

But that's beyond the point. The point is that Lan Wangji is stuck in a situation where he can't cast judgment, but still, his actions reflect what he knows and has gathered first-hand; what his actions show is pure love, patience, a strong, but sensitive heart waiting for another chance to understand the truth, yet knowing and accepting that it will never come, and being at peace with that.

[argumate]

"it’s surprisingly difficult to find examples of political assassinations that made the world a better place instead of triggering crackdowns, reprisal attacks, military coups, and in some cases world wars" makes sense I guess; pretty much every government ever has an incentive to make sure that's the case! even if you hate the guy in charge you don't want the precedent, and if you ever make an exception, well, welcome to "everybody thinks the exception should apply to them, too" hell

EXACTLY like how if you offer a discount or break a rule as a special case for someone, suddenly every single customer also wants that discount or that rule broken lol. except applied to loonies who want to do political assassinations

ideally we would take care of all the righteous causes in advance, so that assassinations or terrorist attacks would only be carried out for unrighteous causes and could be punished accordingly, with none of this moral ambiguity nonsense.