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tiens-letters · 3 years

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butterflies flutter even in the most bloodstained of battlefields

Xiao (angst)

....

It was one of those nights again.

Where all was serene, creatures alike basking in the tranquility of the world once the moon above floats over the existence of everything. To where wars stopped for rest and yet one soul amongst many had no time to do so.

"Alatus." what a familiar name he thinks as he floats around in the void, the darkness to which seemed not consume him just like before and then he wondered where he is right now is the place of all endings. It was pure nothingness and it seemed more comforting than the land he was supposed to protect, riddled with war and the ever evolving generations of humanity.

If this was the end then so be it, he wouldnt ask for more. He could finally rest his weary head and think and replay all the good days while awaiting reincarnation and he prayed. He hoped for a better rebirth and into a place of peace.

"Alatus." there was it again, the name he's forgot during the spoils of war. A name he thought he'd never hear again or even spoken by someone's lips.

"Wake up please." but his eyes were fully open, his body aware and yet he felt alienated, out of place. He realizes that his skin never felt a thing and only the harrowing reality that this place was a farce.

As if it were the clue to the puzzle, the darkness broke and fell apart into a field, marred with bodies piled atop each other, the red sun above blessing those under it the horrors of a never ending terror that scorched their skin and drove them towards the brink of madness. His polearm, sullied with grime and blood. It felt heavy, like the burden he carries upon his shoulders. A little bit more and he would have lost himself too. He stood above it all and looked at the vast battlefield before him, the very nightmare he's always experienced. Just he himself standing, alone and cold, the suffocating air heavy with the stench of tarnished blood.

There were no grassy fields with a clear sky nor the old and ancient land of liyue that he grew up in and fought for.

A lone butterfly dances in the midst of it all, his body weightless as he followed it. Wondering why it called out to him in a silent way yet its presence itself made him feel at ease. Perhaps this was his salvation from being damned to this world, a small glowing butterfly. He wanted to touch it but he felt undeserving to for such an action, he might curse it as well. His eyes was set alone on its fluttering feat, not noticing the bodies he walked past nor the souls that called out to him.

And then it burst into a million, pieces of light, engulfing him in its warmth.

He welcomed it.

"Xiao!" he gasps, like his very first breath into existence and then he could feel everything there is and there was.

That's right, there was still you, beautiful eyes fully blown into worry, that face of your torn into agony at the thought of him never waking up next to you. Not feeling his skin upon your and his lips gracing your immortal soul.

You embraced him with relief, clutching his body that was filled with nightmare tremors.

"Thank you." he whispers against your neck, the sweat from his forehead sticking to you skin and you didnt care. Even if you both were covered in dirt or grime, even if both of you were tarnished by blood, nothing mattered except that you both are breathing and feeling.

"I thought Ive lost you in that wasteland, Alatus."

He kisses you with all he has, all the pent up emotions he could never say, all the love he feels for you was conveyed into actions, those hands that held a weapon of war now cupping your cheeks and all you could ever feel was his deeply rooted affection towards you. it was as if to remind him that you were still there, the sole reminder of a better world. a better life.

You who he's dedicated his heart to and not anyone else. the first of everything. sure it was a bumpy ride in the beginning as he was like a newborn babe to the emotions such as love and joy but as time took every step, the road seemed to smoothen by its grace and it became easier to approach these newfound feelings. you were glad to be blessed by the geo archon to have a long life so that you can offer your all to the land you helped protect and build and now to the man before you. Your dearly torn Alatus.

"Rest well my dear."

...

It was truly the end of the line.

Everywhere was in utter chaos, modern Liyue now fraught to ruin as an ancient God had been awakened, one you thought had been sealed away and the demons you guardians once kept away came bounding back tenfold and hungry for blood and destruction. The city that has been built from the ground crumbled , as you fought once again, just like all those years ago side by side with your comrades. People were dying as you strived to protect every single soul with your hands and just like before, several others dropped to your feet, lifeless and tossed apart like a rag doll.

You were tiring, sharp movements turned sluggish as you tore down anything evil that you came across, you prayed to whichever good god was still alive that the people had run to safety so that you could unleash your last card. A trick you've vowed to never use again as long as you are alive and the situation permits it so and yet you've run out of time. if you didnt do this now then everything would really turn to ash and nothing would bloom ever again.

Standing in the middle of the onslaught of monsters that never seemed to end, gnashing teeth nipped at your barrier only to be repelled back by a force that seemed to lose its energy. You sighed, the last ever peace you'll get to feel as the karma pushed you over the edge.

"Xiao." and as soon his name poured out your lips did he appear, an urgent look in his eyes as he slashed down any monster that came near.

"Its time." his mouth hung open, unable to find the right words to counter you, how could he? when duty was above everything, especially in the relationship you both had that bloomed from the most ancient of days. Liyue came first above all else, that was what you swore as Morax blessed you on the day of your early death. You were thankful to him that he's allowed you to live even with the price of servitude.

"Thirty seconds." was all he could muster up to say from all the torrential words that swarmed his head. just thirty seconds of peace with you was all he wanted before you walk the remaining steps towards the end.

"Alright." there was peace as you allowed it, nothing from outside was heard only the ragged breathes that came from both of your lungs. There were no monsters only two immortal beings that longed for peace, and in those weary eyes was hope for a tomorrow.

"I love you." he whispers pulling you close, those thirty seconds slowed as he held you tightly, his skin engraving the memory of you deep within. "I love you. Dont forget that."

"Even if I pass on, you will always be in my heart. Even if time goes on, your name remains on my lips. Even if everything crumbles, you in your own self will always be with me as I am with you. So my dear, my dear sweet Alatus, dont you ever cry when you wake up tomorrow to an empty bed, dont look for me when all Ive ever been is right beside you. Instead, rejoice for there is another day you get to experience for the both of us and if time allows us once again, which I am confident it will. I will find you just as you've found me."

this was your parting vow.

your peaceful barrier broke and once again you were back in the cruel reality you faced and will face till your death. Your lips find his and for the last time in this life, you poured every ounce of you in it. Your eyes had no tears and only hope and acceptance as you broke away.

"I love you." and then that was the end of your own book.

Billions upon billions of butterflies burst from you, touching every dirty, disgusting thing, purging it off this world once and for all. Your duty was fulfilled, your contract has ended and now you are free. There was nothing to worry about except to wait for the right time to find you way back to him.

Now, everything was at peace again.

Xiao, the man you've left behind for the time being stood alone once again with a single butterfly perched atop his forehead.

.....................................................................

i will get to the requests after a few days. Please bear with my low creativity juice and dwindling will to can.

#genshin impact #genshin impact angst #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #xiao #xiao genshin impact #xiao x reader #alatus #xiao angst #xiao imagine #xiao one shot

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trendingnewsb · 7 years

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F-Bombs and Bikinis: What It Really Means to Be a Christian

“You cannot sanitize grace. You cant stuff it into a blue blazer and make it wear khakis.”

By Preston Sprinkle

Christian subcultures are an entertaining phenomenon. Multiple brands of Christianity claim the same Lord and read the same Bible, and yet they promote a set of values sometimes as different as apples and orangutans.

I once heard a story about a Christian woman from the East Coast who confronted a West Coast youth-pastor, who allowed mixed bathing at youth events. I cant believe any so-called Christian leader would allow boys and girls to swim together! She expressed her concern, all the while puffing on a cigarette. The youth pastor couldnt help but smile, speechless at the irony.

I attended a conservative Brethren church when I lived in Scotland. Some of the women wore head coverings and none of them spoke in church. When I had our Irish pastor and his wife over for dinner, I asked them what he would like to drink. Beer please, the preacher said. And for you, madam? Ill take a glass of Chardonnay, thank you. Were they liberal or conservative? I guess it depends on which subculture you come from.

When you try to cut out Christians with a religious cookie cutter, you not only tarnish diversity, but you trample on grace. Its one thing for Christian subcultures to cultivate unique values. But it becomes destructive when those values are chiseled on Sinaitic tablets for all to obey.

Its even worse when Christians expect instant holiness from recent convertsholiness, that is, in areas where we think weve nailed it.

Its a shame that some believers have scoffed at some of Shia Labeoufs recent comments about converting to Christianity, pointing fingers at the fact that he still uses bad language weeks after becoming a Christian. Its worth noting that some are speculatingthat Labeoufs conversion may have actually been more of a rather dramatic example of method acting than a true conversion but, regardless, many Christians chose to focus on his language instead of his heart. God only knows the true believers from the false. But to judge a mans faith because theres a residue of potty mouth?

Bad language may take years to weed out. Even more difficult to extract is the pride that drives judgmental Christians to mock the Spirits work in a man seeking his Creator. That sin could take decades to discover. Grace means that we are all works in progress, and God shaves off our rough edges in His timing. Just look at the thugs God works with in the Bible.

I know were programmed to see the 12 apostles as saints with halos and contemplative faces. But actually, they were criminals. These guys were more like prisoners than pastors, and few of them would have been let inside our churches today.

Take Peter, for instance. Peter walked with Jesus for three years, witnessing miracle after miracle, sermon after sermon. Still, on the night before Jesuss death, a servant girl asked Peter if he knew Jesus. I do not know the man! Peter responded. And he even evoked a curse on himself to prove he wasnt lying (Matthew 26:74).

Can you imagine if your pastor did that? Good morning, church. I just want to say that I dont even know who Jesus is! We have a hard time forgiving pastors who commit adultery. I dont think wed know how to handle a pastor who had a public bout with doubt.

Then theres James and John, whom Jesus nicknames sons of thunder. Apparently, they never made it through an anger management seminar. On one occasion, these two hotheads wanted to nuke an entire village because they wouldnt let them spend the night (Luke 9:51-56). The whole villagewomen and children. Luckily, Jesus stepped in to prevent the destruction. These two holy apostles would have been better fit as bouncers outside an expensive casino in Vegas owned by a mobster, than preachers of the gospel of love.

My favorite pair is Simon the Zealot and Matthew the tax-collector. How did those two thugs get along?

Matthews vocation was nothing less than political and religious treason. Tax-collectors were Jewish agents of Rome, who mediated pagan oppression through taking money from innocent people. Imagine if you found out that your childhood friend was making a living off funneling money to ISIS. Would you use him to plant a church? Apparently, Jesus did.

Tax-collectors were more than extortionists. They were known for living excessively immoral lives and hanging out with all the wrong people. Religious Jews, in fact, believed that tax-collectors were passed the point repentance. Matthew didnt have a moral bone in his body. But of course, after becoming a Christian, he immediately stopped sinning and never used bad language ever again.

Yeah right.

Simon, as a Zealot, probably grew up on the other side of the tracks. The Zealots were named such not because they were prayer warriors. They were just warriorsJewish jihadists. The Zealots were known for killing their Roman oppressors or other Jews who were sell-outs. They were aggressive, violent, and they did anything but love their enemies. Had Simon met Matthew on the streets, theres a good chance one of them would have been found lying in chalk.

To build His Kingdom, Jesus handpicks what could be compared to the leader of the Black Panther party and the grand wizard of the KKK. I doubt anyone closed their eyes at that first prayer meeting.

You cannot sanitize grace. You cant stuff it into a blue blazer and make it wear khakis. Grace is messy, offensive, and it sometimes misses church. To expect God to pump prefabricated plastic moral people out of a religious factory is to neuter grace and chain it inside a gated community. If Gods scandalous relationship with the 12 thugs means anything, then we should expect a variegated spectrum of righteousness and be patientor repentantwhen such sanctification doesnt meet out expectations. God meets us in our mess and pushes holiness out the other side.

Not anti-mixed-bathing holiness. But the real stuff. The holiness that serves the poor, prays without ceasing, redeems the arts, loves enemies, elevates community above corporate success, and preaches the life-giving Gospel of a crucified and risen Lamb in season and out.

About the Author:Preston Sprinkle is the vice president of Eternity Bible Colleges Boise extension. He blogs at Theology in the Raw. See more from Preston on his website.