#mockers and scoffing

[lightman2120]

This is insane…

[makeastraightpath]

Section 2 of 2: "FOUND WANTING" (From: To All Those Who Speak Against the Word of The Lord) *Source: https://www.thevolumesoftruth.com/To_All_Those_Who_Speak_Against_the_Word_of_The_Lord_Given_to_Timothy

[katcadecascade]

If you believe the lies I tell

This is a preview chapter of my self-indulgent Snowjanus fic. Some of it has been edited to conceal some other stuff I have already wrote. For the entirety of the fic, I am still writing it and once it is completed is when I'll start posting to Ao3.

That will definitely take a while so I wanted to at least share this fun chapter as a new years special.

-

Coriolanus has to formulate a plan on what to stash away from the dining hall, anything to join the muffin intended for Tigris. He has to make backup plans after backup plans if Clemensia ever interferes. This is all he can think about during their class before lunch hour. 

Their calculus lesson had to take a pause for their professor to receive documents from the ink and printer room. Urban Canvill, top student of the subject, was asked to assist. 

“And there he goes, our calculus genius,” Gaius mourns like a nurse bidding a soldier farewell. 

Apollo taps a pencil on his textbook, “I swear there is a calculator in his head, it’s the only explanation.” 

“Or you’re bad at math,” Diana teased. 

“Hey, I scored higher than you last I checked.”

“Well, twins, you’re both beneath me,” Arachne butted in, believing she was always a part of the conversation.

“Okay, can we just all agree we hate math,” Domitia said.

“Minus Urban Canville,” Festus winked. “Get it? Minus?”

Only Persephone Price laughed. 

Gaius fake-yelled, “Boo! Get off the stage!”

“I’ll be here all week, folks!”

“Besides, I don’t think anyone is gonna out calculate Urban,” Florus said, tapping a pencil on Apollo’s head. 

Diana had to interfere before the boys started sword fighting with their stationary. 

“Really? That’s quite the statement.”

No one expected such a mocking tone from Sejanus. 

Coriolanus feels his eyes burning at the rich boy. He gives the attention no mind, soaking in the way their classmates stare curiously or irritatedly.  

“I’m surprised that none of you have tried hard enough to beat Urban’s score.”

“Excuse you,” Vipsania stands up and points at the mocker, “I am one of the top ranked students here.”

“That doesn’t sound like you’re actually the top student. We all know that’s Coriolanus.”

Eyes flicker to him and Coriolanus burns at the way Sejanus said his name. He’s using his name to further make their classmates inferior. 

It’s a brag, is his delayed thought. It’s equally a praise. 

Coriolanus still refuses to visibly acknowledge Sejanus, so he turns to Clemensia, “Do you have any idea what’s going on? It sounds like a mess.”

She tuts, as if she’s a disappointed mother, “They are a mess.” 

While that further infuriates most of their classmates, besides her, Lysistrata giggles at Clemensia. The girls exchange more laughter, like they’re sharing an inside joke. Coriolanus merely raises an eyebrow at her, surprised that Clemensia’s partaking in the biting comments. 

“They can still clean up their act.” 

Sejanus commands everyone’s attention back to him. 

It’s effortlessly done. 

Coriolanus wonders where Sejanus learned to say all the right words. To manipulate the crowd. It’s the opposite of what Coriolanus does. 

Coriolanus Snow charms the audience to keep everything in order. 

Sejanus Plinth riles up the audience for chaos.

“The upcoming calculus test.” He scans his audience, yet somehow skips over Coriolanus. Air is trapped in Coriolanus’ lungs. “Anyone who replaces Urban Canville’s number one spot gets a Plinth prize of my own.” That gets people to mutter about but once again, Sejanus shuts them up. “Not money, that’ll be real boring. I’m offering up a favor.” 

“What are you on about?” Arachne scoffed, “We don’t need anything from-“

“Shush!” Festus nearly throws his body on top of her desk, shoving a single finger against Arachne’s red lips. “Let the man bake!”

Persephone corrects, “Don’t you mean cook?”

“Yes!” 

His enthusiasm is uninterrupted when Felix strong-arms him off the desk. Festus straightens up and behind him, everyone ignores Arachne dramatically gagging into a napkin that Felix passed her. 

Festus explains, “He’s right, we don’t need his money but making Sejanus Plinth do whatever we want? Now that’s a real prize!”

Persephone winces, “You’re making it sound cruder than it would be, Festus.” 

He winks at her, “Only if you think that way.” 

Besides them, Arachne and Domitia shared appalled, mocking faces. 

“Actually, I'm with him on this. It would be interesting to see Sejanus hold his end of the bargain.” Felix Ravinstill approaches Sejanus Plinth, “Anything we ask?”

“Don't make him do anything illegal,” Persephone warns, proving that she really is the nicest girl in class. “That’ll be too far.”

“We’re not that chaotic, can’t let our families find out after all,” Their class president assures her with a smile, but to Sejanus it is anything but warm. “But, Sejanus, don’t think it’ll be anything simple.”

“I would hope not,” he smiles and reaches out a hand.

The most politically rich boy shakes hands with the richest outsider of all of the Capitol. 

A deal has been struck. 

“Sejanus, why are you doing this to Urban?” Gaius asked, so far the only one willing to defend Urban. 

“I’m not doing this to Urban, this is about all of you.” False gratitude has never sounded so much like a threat before. Sejanus has them all eating out of his palm. “Prove that you really are the best and brightest of the Capitol. Also why not have some fun with academic rivalry.”

“I hate calculus, but I admit I’m intrigued,” Apollo grins even though his twin elbows him roughly. 

“This is what finally gets you to take math seriously?”

“Hey, I’d love to win something. After all, it’s gonna be Coriolanus who wins the actual Plinth Prize.”

A few heads turn to the leading candidate for the scholarship money. 

He only has mere seconds to decide what mask he has to wear. Anything to maintain the image of the perfect Snow. 

“Do you really think that Apollo?” Coriolanus performs with a million dollar smile, “Well, one more test to ace isn’t a real problem for me.”

Now that raises everyone’s ego. The chance to take something away from the untouchable Coriolanus Snow. 

He sees in the way Arachne whispers to Felix. As Florus and Apollo immediately plan a study session that Diana of course invites herself in. Coriolanus despises them a little bit more. They just had to prove his thoughts right. 

Everyone in this school feeds off of others’ failures. 

Urban Canville, the challenge, no - the obstacle, arrives and the tension in the room shifts. 

“Why’s everyone staring at me?” 

“We’re just talking about calculus, buddy,” Festus is instantly at his side, very touchy-feely, roping an arm around Urban’s neck, “and how you’re so good at it.” 

Behind Urban’s back, Festus glares at everyone to not snitch. It's mostly aimed at Gaius who does concede. Class resumes without a hitch. 

Coriolanus has to wait until everyone leaves before confronting the most annoying person in his life. Clemensia needed to be placated with a promise of not taking too long, that he’ll catch up later. 

When it’s just them, there’s no more performances. 

“What the hell was all of that?”

Sejanus squirms in his chair, finally acting like his usual, uncomfortable self. 

Seeing this just makes Coriolanus angrier. 

If this guy can behave two-faced so easily, manipulate their classmates, how is Coriolanus’ own mask believable?

He has the urge to pace around, think of better ways to lie, to analyze how exactly their classmates were suckered in by Sejanus. As suspicious as his actions were, they only focused on their own world. 

Pride on the verge of narcissism. 

It was too well played out but it was enough to pique their interest. Coriolanus would be impressed if not for his irritation over Sejanus. Specifically about how he knows Sejanus better than anyone else. 

And right now, Sejanus knows him better than anyone Coriolanus has allowed. 

He stays rooted in front of Sejanus, needing to figure out what’s exactly in his head. 

Sejanus bites his lip, for once considering his words. If only he was always like this. 

“Sejanus,” the name is harsh on his tongue, “tell me, now.”

The command should make him feel powerful, from just the way the he looks up at Coriolanus. But those brown eyes full of pity sends poison down his veins. 

It almost makes Coriolanus squirm, targeted under the weight of Sejanus’ undivided attention. 

“It was the only way I could think of to-”

“To give me food?” His pride takes over, already regretting this conversation. “You’re telling me that you proposed some idiotic bet for all your enemies on the chance that I would accept your generosity?”

He expects Sejanus to lie to him. Or say something absurd like he’s doing this out of the kindness of his heart. How Sejanus’ sense of judgment and righteousness demands to treat Coriolanus like this. 

That’s a terrifying relationship. Coriolanus refuses to be an object that sits pretty for every compliment, to receive a feast for doing absolutely nothing. 

“Yes, I did.” Something just clicks behind those brown eyes and Sejanus’ expression hardens. “You said it yourself, you’re not spoiled. Coriolanus, you’re hard working and twice as stubborn than everyone else.” He stands up, preparing to leave with his bag slung over his shoulder. “You don’t have to win this competition though, that’s up to you.”

He sees it and he hates it. 

Sejanus is trying to rile him up, trap him into admitting that he has something that Coriolanus Snow needs. 

As if. 

“I don’t want handouts.”

“This isn’t a handout. This is a choice.”

He is right. Coriolanus could choose to not partake in zealous efforts of reaching the top. 

But it is not in his nature to lie down and let his competitors gain what he deserves. 

Coriolanus deflects, “So you made a spectacle? That doesn’t sound like you, Sejanus.”

“I’m just speaking your language.” At Coriolanus’ scoff, a reflex to mask his confusion, Sejanus steps closer. He lays a hand on Coriolanus’ arm. “I know you can beat everyone in this class. Do what you do best, Coriolanus Snow. Be at the top.”

An exhilarating thrill buzzes throughout Coriolanus Snow. 

He does not need Sejanus Plinth’s permission. 

It’s natural for the sun to shine brighter than the stars.

For the ocean to knock down sandcastles. 

For snow to land on top. 

The real Plinth Prize waits at graduation day.

But today?

His classmates saw a chance, no matter how small, to best him. It’s maddening to have a target on his back but at the same time, Coriolanus welcomes them to try. Eager to see them all fall. Graduation and university is too far away. After seeing their glimmer of hope, he craves their defeat now. 

This is more than a predator nature or survival instincts born from starvation. This is what Coriolanus truly greeds for. To actually feel like the top of a mountain peak. 

Anyone else would tear at him with teeth and claws, exposing this bloody animal he locks under a perfect mask. Yet with Sejanus it’s a scalpel, a clean cut. 

In an impossible way, Coriolanus feels seen. Layers of flesh exposed and undone, revealing a hungry creature, a void that will devour. 

Beyond status or wealth, Corionlaus Snow can and will dominate any who opposes him. 

It’s a taste of something better than any food served on a silver platter. 

All provided by one Sejanus Plinth. 

He gives Sejanus one last glare before storming out of the room. 

-

Thanks for reading!

[mirastark]

Overcoming Fears

Darth Vader x Reader

Chapter Ten

———————————

After Vader heard about what happened with that one stormtrooper, it wasn’t long till almost the entire castle knew. Every single squadron of Stormtroopers feared Lord Mira more than Vader now, afraid of the same fate as the Mocker. Which was what they called the poor man.

Mira hadn’t been seen since the Storm Trooper ‘Explosion’, as she had been in her room, resting her leg. Mira knew the cuts and burns on her leg wasn’t heeling, and Terra had said the same thing when she had come to assist her.

That day you had to show Perseus where another unit was on the same floor as Lord Mira and Darth Vader’s quarters. You were around 6 floors down, but thank the maker for elevators. Is what Perseus always said.

The two of you took a step into the elevator, Perseus hit the button to the correct floor, being closer to the panel and the wall. He placed his heavy bag on the floor between the two of you, briefly fixing the collar of his uniform as the elevator began to move. You hadn’t gone but a floor up until it came to halt. The doors opened with a creak. Terra stepped in, glancing to you as she stood next to the wall farthest from you and Perseus. You glanced over to her, before looking back to the door as out of the corner of your eye you could see another figure entering the elevator. His heavy boots echoed as they hit the hollow floor. His breathing filled the small room. Vader stepped in beside you, glaring down to you through the dark lenses of his mask.

“What floor, My Lord?” Perseus asked, stepping back to the panel and looking up to Lord Vader. His mask tilted to him, looking to the panel.

“We will be heading to the same floor, Officer.” He replied, turning his head back forward. Perseus nodded, stepping back next to you. Vader was accompanying Terra to visit Lord Mira. She hadn’t been able to move around very well, and even now she was unable to even put pressure on her leg. She was a very powerful sith, yet even Vader would admit she was proud, but she was still human.

The doors shut once more. The elevator shifted as it moved once again. The four of you stood in an awkward silence, not even getting two floors up before the elevator jerked to a stop. It made you, Terra, and Perseus loose balance for a moment, without falling. Vader still stood stiffly, as if he had caused it.

“What was that?” Terra asked, glancing between you, Perseus, and Vader.

“The elevator has broken down.” Vader spoke.

“Well can’t you just lift us up with the force or something?” Terra snapped.

His head quickly turned, looking down to her.

“If I am to lift the elevator up, it will only break it further. Only a simple wire malfunction has occurred which must be fixed from the outside.” Vader snapped.

“So this isn’t your first time stuck in an elevator, is it My Lord?” Perseus joked, looking up to him. His helmet turned back to his direction, without a word. Perseus laughed awkwardly at his silence, looking to the wall.

“Another mechanic will fix the elevator from the outside.” Vader scoffed, looking back towards the door.

“And how long will that take?” You asked.

“I would know if I were the one fixing it. “ Vader snapped. The three of you could tell he was annoyed, and did not plan to anger him further.

You all sat in silence for almost 20 minutes till your legs began to ache, not having moved in a while. Your back was tempting you to slouch. You assumed Perseus and Terra felt the same, as Perseus was constantly switching the leg he leaned on. Not a moment later the Sith sighed looking over to you and Perseus. The two of you returned the gesture, starring up at the tall man.

“I believe we will be waiting a while more.” He spoke with a sigh, “The three of you may sit, if you wish.” He slightly glanced back toward Terra, who seemed more pleased than you did.

“Thank you, My Lord.” Perseus nodded, stepping back to the wall behind him and plopping down. He drug his bag towards him, leaning an elbow on it. You looked down to Perseus, glancing back up to the Sith before sitting down next to him. Vader stepped to the far corner, by the door, turning back towards the two of you as if making room for Terra. She stepped towards you, sitting one a foot or so away from you on the wall, placing her bag down with her also.

Only the sound of Vader’s respirator filled the small room. He stared at the wall above you, seemingly zoned out or in a daze. You glanced over to Perseus, then Terra, before looking back to Vader.

“You don’t need an invitation, but you may sit with us if you’d like, My Lord,” You spoke. “It does seem we will be here much longer…” You knew Vader could sit down if he wanted to, but he had to show some authority not by sitting with people of much lower rank than his. But it was still worth a try.

His helmet shifted down towards you. “I appreciate the offer, General, but we should be moving shortly…” Vader spoke. “Beyond that, the three of you will be accompanying Lord Mira and I to the Imperial Base and Medical Facility on Hoth in three days.”

A confused look fell on your faces. Why were we going to Hoth? It’s one of the coldest darn planets, and definitely the opposite of Mustafar.

“You all will have simple tasks while you are there,” he continued, ”So do not see this as a vacation. Officer Perseus, you will be fixing a Mechanical Problem the facility has had for years. General

L/N, you will be accompanying Officer Perseus overall, yet you do have one scheduled meeting with another General- He is supposed to help you to present- Useful… War Tactics.” His helmet tilted to the side as he looked to you in a mocking way.

Perseus quickly glanced between the two of you, hoping to know the story of your silent quarrel. He paused before continuing, “Terra, you have already heard of your assignments and our business on Hoth-“

You looked to the Sith for a moment, before quickly shifting your gaze to the floor. You noticed He hadn’t used a title when talking to Terra, even though he had with Perseus and you. It was odd. She didn’t have the title of General or even Officer, hers would simply be The Botanist, or just Botanist-

The creaking of metal interrupted your thoughts. Perseus looked to the ceiling and the wall, searching for the source of the noise. Suddenly the elevator shifted, moving upward once again. The abrupt jerk caused Perseus’ head to be banged into the wall behind him. You and Terra smiled as you held in your laughs. He lowed his head, reaching back to rub it.

You could hear a low scoff from Vader as he turned to the door. It slid open, to the right floor this time. Terra stood, taking her bag, following Vader down the hallway as he quickly fled the elevator as if nothing happened. You stood up after her stepping to hold the door. Perseus rose, throwing his bag over his shoulder he walked out. You followed, leading him to the machine he was supposed to fix, and on the way back to your quarters, the two of you took the stairs.

[magaministriesusa]

A Powerful Truth

A Powerful Truth

https://www.magaministries.com/maga.../a-powerful-truth

Blessed is the one who does not walk in step with the wicked or stand in the way that sinners take or sit in the company of mockers,

The book of Psalms opens with A Powerful Truth! The Lord knows the way of the righteous, but the way of the wicked shall perish. Godly living which results in blessings from above, contentment within, and hope for the future, stands in stark contrast to the practice of ungodliness and compromise which produces the fruit of sorrow and destruction and ends in ruin.

In one short verse, we see how rapidly a godly man or woman can slide into ungodly ways. Instead of continuing to walk in spirit and truth, they begin to follow the advice of the evil and slowly become ensnared in the world. Once a believer takes their eyes off Jesus and allows their ears to be tickled by human wisdom, their spiritual fervor is dampened and they are tempted to loiter in the way of the ungodly until they are willing to stand firm in the company of evil men or women instead of standing firm on the truth of God's Word. The longer a believer remains in the company of ungodly men and women, the more rapidly their conscience begins to be seared and the attitude of scoffing sinners taints the truth of the gospel until the Holy Spirit is quenched and grieved.

What a warning to all God's children on how to live the Christian life and how to avoid falling from grace by being adversely influenced by this fallen world system.

The happiness of the man and woman who truly walks in God’s ways and does not compromise with the fallen, world system. Blessed is the man and woman that walks in the path of righteousness and does not consider in the counsel of the ungodly, nor stands in the way of sinners, nor sits in the seat of the scornful.

CHURCH Prayer:

Loving Father, it is our desire that we too walk in Your ways and keep from foolish compromise with the world system. Keep our hearts set on the Lord Jesus so that our thoughts are not influenced by the mindset of this current age. May we be like the man planted by Your many rivers of grace and love, joy and peace. May Your mercy and compassion flow through us to those around us, in the places where you have planted us. In Jesus' name we Pray, AMEN.

[testajuliejane]

Mocker's Fall

He laughed at my modesty, called me blind,

Mocked my faith, left kindness behind.

I spoke with truth, not words to tear,

Yet they twisted them, unfair, unfair.

A friend I thought, but not so true,

Turned whispers sharp, and falsehood grew.

Seeking favor, seeking grace,

Yet darkness hid behind her face.

He scoffed, he jeered, he cast his stone,

Yet soon his deeds were clearly shown.

The same lips that scorned my way

Now tremble in the light of day.

Not mine to judge, not mine to claim,

But justice spoke and bore his name.

Not karma’s hand, but heaven’s sight,

For truth prevails in God’s own time.

And I? I stand, still clothed in grace,

No shame, no guilt, no need to chase

A world that twists, deceives, betrays—

For God redeems in His own ways.

I really admire Kate Middleton's look. I want to be modest, dress without revealing a lot of skin. Modesty is my dress policy. I experienced being mocked by believing this. But God has a way of defending me.

[skittlesfics]

name: cherry pairing: Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader word count: 1617 summary: Steve's been thinking about kissing you all day. Technically a part 2 to this drabble. but you can read without content/warnings: kissing, teen boy thoughts, dustin being a little shit, fem/sister reader author’s note: Well I sat down to write Eddie and yet here we are. -

Steve was sure your lips must taste like cherries, or bubblegum, or cherry bubblegum, because his face was bright pink from your kiss and surely something that could make him blush that hard had to taste red. Or pink. He was still undecided. It had to be something sticky sweet, too, because he’d been thinking about it for hours. Maraschino cherry bubblegum, then.

Dustin’s tantrum had lasted all of five minutes, following Steve from the car into the house, ranting outside his bedroom door as Steve changed into his swim trunks, only stopping when they got down to the pool where you distracted him with the promise of ice cream whenever the truck drove by.

He’d left the pair of you with a stern, “Don’t touch my sister, Harrington.” Before joining his friends on the other side of the pool.

You’d laughed, but Steve had just scoffed and claimed the lounge chair next to yours where he could steal glances at you as you sunbathed. Your denim shorts were abandoned by the gate, leaving you in a bright red bikini Steve knew he’d never seen before. He’d remember that on you, the way it contrasted your skin tone.

“You want to really piss him off?”

Steve had spaced out, thinking about the fabric resting atop your chest, and he nearly spilled from his pool lounger when you spoke. You had leaned in, lips quirked up in a wicked smirk, voice low and conspiratorial. You were going to be the death of him. He swallowed.

“What, uh, what did you have in mind?” He did his best to keep his eyes on your face, he really did, but when you leaned down to pick something up from between the two of you, he couldn’t help but glance down with the movement, his eyes greedily tracing the valley of your breasts that he was definitely not supposed to be looking at. He managed to look away before you sat up.

“Catch.”

He nearly dropped the sunscreen you threw at him, fumbling after his initial instinctive catch. He glanced down at his own hands, brow furrowed in confusion, and you laughed as realization dawned on his face. You were trying to kill him, Steve decided. There was no other answer.

“Get my back?” You were already rolling over, folding your arms under your face as you exposed your back to him.

Steve glanced at Dustin, who was already glaring, and then back at you. The bare expanse of skin did look vulnerable in the sun. What kind of friend would he be if he just let you burn?

He ignored Dustin, squirting the sunscreen into the palm of one hand. It was thick and sticky – definitely the extra coverage stuff you had grabbed for your brother – but he still warmed it between both hands before moving to your lounger, carefully spreading it over your lower back.

And if looking at you was difficult, touching you was an entirely different type of sweet torture. He wanted to memorize all of your curves, to explore your reactions to his touch. He wanted so, so much. He grit his teeth, narrowing his eyes to focus on applying the sunscreen so that it wouldn’t burn. How would he ever explain that he had messed up the coverage because he was too busy fantasizing about you and your maraschino lips. That’s what he had settled on, cherry liqueur is what you probably tasted like. He was still blushing.

A second squirt of sunscreen and he had you covered, biting his tongue when he had to slide his hands under the straps of your bikini. Something about the skin there felt intimate, forbidden.

“All done.” He announced, smiling at your back hard enough that you could feel it.

“Thanks, Stevie.”

“Yeah, thanks, Stevie. My turn!” Dustin demanded, appearing out of nowhere to stretch himself across Steve’s abandoned lounger in a mockery of your position.

“Dude.” Steve protested, wrinkling his nose at the prospect of having to touch Dustin.

“What? This perfect, lily white skin won’t protect itself, Harrington. Isn’t that right?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at your brother’s antics. He certainly had a talent for knocking the romance out of a moment. You pushed yourself up, nudging Steve so that he wouldn’t topple the entire lounger as you shifted your weight.

Steve wanted to complain again, but between the laugh and the smile that lingered on your lips as you reached for the bottle of sunscreen, he knew he had already lost. He huffed and begrudgingly helped you sunscreen your brother’s back.

“You’re on your own for the front.” You announced when the two of you were finished, though you took great pleasure in the anguished faces Steve pulled behind Dustin’s back.

“Yeah, yeah, give me the bottle. If I burn because you two can’t stop making heart eyes at each other, you owe me quarters for the month.” Dustin snatched the sunscreen from Steve and jumped up to head back to his friends.

“Yeah, whatever, twerp.” You flicked his shoulder as he passed you and he stuck his tongue out at you before hurrying away. It was the closest you’d get to acceptance.

Lucas and Mike were arguing about the proper etiquette of a splash fight while Max watched on, unimpressed. She could probably use the sunscreen, too. You were ready to shout to her to use some, but Dustin was already handing it to her after squeezing far too much into his own hand and slathering it on his torso.

You smiled and shook your head, glancing back at Steve who mirrored your expression.

Steve glanced back at you and caught you already smiling fondly up at him in a way that made his chest feel tight all over again. You nudged him with your elbow and he grinned back, rolling his eyes.

“What?” he asked when your smile grew, but you only shook your head.

“Nothing. Let’s get some lemonade for the kids.”

You hooked your arm through his and he followed you dutifully to the kitchen.

The house was much cooler than outside, and Steve could feel the goosebumps raise on your arm as you stepped inside, bare feet pressed against the cold kitchen tiles. This was the other reason, after the pool, that Steve’s house became the de facto hangout spot during the sweltering Hawkins summers.

You pulled Steve through his own kitchen, abandoning him at the island to pull the ever-present pitcher from his fridge. He watched you fondly, his mind whirring with thoughts about the way you knew your way around his house so naturally.

“Hey, Stevie.” He liked the way you said his name. Rarely just Steve, that wasn’t enough for you, but never Steven because that was too much. Just Stevie like you didn’t want to be done saying his name quite yet. Stevie like it was something just for the two of you.

“Yeah?” He tried to sound like he wasn’t absolutely smitten by everything you did as you stacked the outside cups on a serving tray next to the pitcher of lemonade. You glanced up at him through your lashes and if it wasn’t so cold inside, he might have passed out from heatstroke.

“Why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

Steve forgot how to breathe. You asked like it was a given, something simple, some bygone conclusion that Steve should’ve come to already and maybe he had, because he’d been thinking about kissing you all afternoon.

It took him a moment to get his bearings, almost shaking himself back to reality as he caught sight of you worrying your bottom lip with your teeth and he couldn’t have that, not when that’s where his lips were meant to go.

You smiled at him as he rounded the island to get to you, not nervous – anticipatory – and Steve wondered if you were waiting for this as long as he had been, but he couldn’t ask. Or he didn’t want to ask, not if he was just going to trip over the words anyway.

You seemed to think he was taking too long, reaching for him before he was close and leaning in to press your lips against his, eyes closing prettily before he had even closed the gap. His hands found your waist and part of him just wanted to stay like this forever so that he could remember the look on your face. He didn’t, leaning in to press his lips against yours, body catching ablaze like this was the kiss he had been waiting for all along.

It was hot outside, but that was nothing compared to the fire you started in Steve’s belly when you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in deeper, kissing him like you could never have enough. Your lips tasted more like the sip of lemonade you stole than cherries, or gum, or cherry gum, but that didn’t matter when Steve could wrap his arms around your waist and pull you close, his skin burning where it touched the parts of you that were bear.

“Okay, okay, that’s enough!” Dustin called from the door, arms over his chest. “It’s about time, but that doesn’t mean you can get all handsy.”

He swept into the room as the two of you jumped apart guiltily, grabbing the tray that you had prepared and heading back out without sparing the two of you another glance.

“Hey! Wait—about time?” Steve started to pursue Dustin, but hesitated, brow furrowing in confusion when he realized what the younger boy had said, “I thought you said—“

You laughed and grabbed Steve’s arm, pulling him back in for another sweet kiss.

[attemptingwriter]

Elder David x Reader

For @puddelssucks

I sat by the creek, kicking my feet in the water. It was a warm summer day, the air was filled with kids playing their games and eating at their snacks. I was one of the older kids, an Elder if you will, but I mostly hung out by myself.

Pushing myself off the ground, I waded further into the creek. The cool, running water felt amazing against the heat of the day.

Sighing, I glanced at my watch. 5:50. Ten minutes til the dinner tuba would sound.

I made my way out of the water, stopping at the shore to put my shoes on. I grabbed my bag and stuffed my book inside.

I smiled at the kids as I headed to the trading tree. The tuba sounded and all the kids began rushing home. I stayed behind for a moment, relishing the quietness of the creek.

"Excuse me?"

I turned around and saw a guy wearing a red cape, sweats, and a helmet. "Can I help you?"

"Oh, I just wanted to make sure you're OK. The tuba sounded already but you haven't left yet." The guy asked.

"I'm OK. I always stay a little later than everyone else. I like the quiet."

He nodded. "I'm David, by the way."

I smiled. "(Y/N)."

"Nice to meet you. Will you be back tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I was planning on it."

David smiled wide, practically bouncing on his heels.

"You should come to Elder Rock with me! You can meet my friends and we can play D&D!"

I laughed. "That sounds fun. I'll meet you here and you can show me Elder Rock."

David held out his hand. "Sounds great."

I smiled and shook his hand.

The Next Day

I packed my bag full of snacks and a couple books, saying goodbye to my parents as I left the house. The second the door clicked shut, I raced to the creek.

I slowed to a walk as I nearest the trading tree. David was sitting on a log talking to one of the kids.

"You ready?" I asked.

"I think I should be the one asking you that," David said, standing up.

I scoffed. "I'm totally ready for whatever you're planning."

David shook his head, a grin on his face. He held out his hand. "Then let's go!"

I grinned and took it, following him to Elder Rock.

We came to a trail that led to a large boulder with tiki torches in front. There was a small opening underneath.

"Are you sure we're gonna fit in there?" I asked.

David sat on the ground, pushing his feet into the opening. "Yup."

I stared as he slipped through, disappearing right before my eyes. Taking a deep breath, I copied what David did and slid into the cave.

I yelped as I crumbled to the ground instead of landing safely on my feet.

Laughter filled the air and I felt David's hands on my arms, pulling me up.

"Sorry, I should've warned you about the drop."

I playfully glared at him. "Yeah you should have."

"Who's this?"

I looked over and saw another guy in a cape and glasses and one with body armor.

"You guys take this seriously, don't you?" I asked.

"You dare bring a mocker into our dwelling, David?" The guy with glasses spoke.

"(Y/N)'s cool, Mark. You'll see. Now let's play!"

Mark glared at me but sat down at the table. The rest of us followed suit.

The guy in body armor, who I learned was Barry, handed me a character sheet. "You'll need to fill this out before we begin the game. David and I can help you if you'd like."

"Thank you. This looks like it's going to be a lot of fun."

I looked around the table and couldn't help but feel like I was going to have the best summer of my life.

[petitefleuriste]

To begin with, you must know and understand this, that scoffers (mockers) will come in the last days with scoffing, [people who] walk after their own fleshly desires — 2 Peter 3:3

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

"...knowing this first of all, that in the last days mockers will come with their mocking, following after their own lusts, and saying, “Where is the promise of His coming? For since the fathers fell asleep, all continues just as it was from the beginning of creation.” - 2 Peter 3:3-4

Peter is concerned that Christians not lose their hope, that they not give up the confidence they have in the return of Jesus Christ, any more than the Jews of the Old Testament would give up on the confidence that the promise of His first coming would be fulfilled.

And so Peter is writing to believers to help us understand that Jesus is coming, and not to fall victim to the teaching of the false teachers and the people who are indifferent, even among Christians, with regard to the return of Christ.

Peter wants to establish with absolute certainty in the life of believers that Jesus is coming, and that He is coming to destroy this universe and to establish a new heaven and a new earth.

And the leadup to that is going to involve massive destruction and devastation on this disposable planet.

If you think we’re messing it up, you haven’t seen anything until you see what Jesus is going to do to it.

So let’s look at Peter’s text here. And we’ll look, first of all, at the attacks of the rejectors, the attacks of the rejectors, verse 3. “Know this first of all”—“Let’s start with this,” Peter says—“that in the last days mockers will come with their mocking.” And then jump down to verse 4, “Saying, ‘Where’s the promise of His coming?’” “Mocker”—this is skepticism. This is sarcasm. This is ridicule.

So this is the attack of ridicule; and it can be very, very difficult for many Christians to hang on to their hope for the return of Christ if they are ignorant and are being ridiculed. I’m absolutely shocked at how many Christians are caught up in the environmental effort to protect the planet and preserve the planet and save the planet. That would be evidence that they don’t believe God’s prewritten history.

So there’s an attack by ridicule, which is kind of scoffing and mocking of people—laughing, as it were. So he starts by saying, “Look, let’s start with this. You need to know this. First of all, this is your priority. You have to expect people to mock the Second Coming; you have to expect that.” Sadly, you even have to expect some who would claim to be Christians to mock the idea of the second coming or stay away from it all together." — John MacArthur

[an-annyeoing-writer]

Baëkhyun x Reader: derision.

Word count: 1 787

Warnings: mind games, drug use, unethical human subject research.

Rating: M (+16) for the warnings stated above.

The man sat down on the opposite side of the room, legs crossed and a folder with documents seated on his lap. To anyone else looking at him now, his face would seem emotionless. But you saw a hint of derision in his beautiful eyes; his head raised proudly as he looked you over for a few long seconds before opening his documents. 

He was barely three, maybe four meters away, but the distance looked like an abyss. The way he sat, the way he behaved, the way he was clothed, so clean, neat and rich, so unlike your dirty, ripped clothes and your limbs stripped to the chair, put up even more distance than there’s ever been before.

You wished there were none, as before, when none of such things mattered. But your wish was not to be granted.

Your head hung lowly.

“Now, shall we start? Miss [L/n], our newest subject. How nice to see you here.” A polite smile crossed his feature, but it wasn’t directed at you, because the man didn’t even look up from his papers. “Let’s talk a bit. It must be a very sudden change in your life, but I hope you’re being treated well. Tell me, is the food alright?”

You wanted to scoff, but a broken sob was all that left your mouth instead. Was he even serious now? He knew how bad it was, how painful. He knew how the guards acted towards the subjects, what the place you were kept in was like, and, although the least important, how nasty the food was, in right amounts to satiate hunger, but stinky and awful in taste, a white butter-like substance consisting of all the ingredients your body would need, but nothing above that.

The man in front of you was nothing but a mocker, taking his time relishing in your misery. 

“I’ll take it as a yes, then. We’ve been taking a lot of tests lately, and I must say, your results are promising. What a surprise a diamond like you had been right under our noses all along.”

“Stop talking like this” you whimpered out. “You weren’t working here. You don’t belong here. Stop talking like you’re one of them. It makes me sick.”

Putting his documents together and folding in front of him, Baëkhyun finally looked at you.

“If not one of them, then who I am, Miss [L/n]? And, more importantly, who are you?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but simply couldn’t. You managed to handle his gaze for a long time before dropping it miserably.

“I-I was good to you…” you whimpered.

“Sure you were” Baëkhyun scoffed, but his tone was rid off amusement.

“Weren’t I…?”

The man stood up from his chair so suddenly that you flinched, startled, making him smirk without even glancing at you. Putting hands behind his back, he started pacing around the room, sometimes disappearing behind your back, but making no effort to get closer to you then necessary. You swore it drove you crazy. You ached to hold him, to have this littlest amount of comfort that was so close, almost in your reach.

“Miss [L/n], let’s get back to business. You’ve been given the same exact treatment as all of the subjects in our center are. Can you see any differences in your behavior, body, your sensations? Has anything changed in your opinion?” 

You weren’t interested in answering his questions. Thousands of thoughts ran through your mind, flashbacks of everything that happened ever since you met him. 

You hated every single memory because they were the reason for the pain of both of you, but you loved them just the same, knowing they were the reason you met him, started to grow fond of him, just like, you were sure, he grew fond of you.

You hated the syringe you had to put in his arm because he was struggling so much that the doctors called you over to sedate him, not wanting to get any closer to the dangerous subject. But you loved the way his lips parted slightly at your sight, and he found himself relaxing the very moment you spoke to him, calm and warm, so unlike anything else he’d experienced in the center. 

You hated the fact you were the one to always interrogate him, being educated enough to do that, but so low in the ranks that no one cared if he’d hurt you. But you loved the fact that he never did, and that those hours you spent together brought you closer to each other. You loved that you could say him all these comforting things, ease him into this life, and tell him that it won’t last forever, and that his sacrifice will bring a better life to so many. You saw that it worked to calm him down. But you hated that he was the one who had to be that sacrifice. Because you swore you’d rather see him free and well, not beaten up and sedated because he tried to run away again, again and again.

You loved that he was free now. But you hated the fact that you were the price of such luxury.

He was considered a finished case, a subject that nothing more could be done with. And as a successful case, he was given an offer to join the center. 

And at the same time, you were accidentally diagnosed as an X-gene carrier, and taken into the custody of the center. What a cruel joke it was, you thought. Almost like those stories about evil kings who tormented their people, only to become a slave to them later on. 

But you weren’t like those evil kings. In your opinion, you did your best to ease the suffering of the subjects, and you wanted the X-gene to be used in a way that’d help them, not destroy them furthermore. The X-gene was supposed to be a blessing, something that could help improve the human race, not a reason to dehumanize its carriers.

“You aren’t replying to my question, Miss [L/n]. Should I repeat it for you?”

However, in the subjects’ eyes, all of the doctors were the same: they’ve seen enough of evil kings to deem all of them just as cruel, and maybe, just maybe, you weren’t doing it well enough to make them realize your intentions.

Maybe, in fact, you were nothing but another evil king, relishing in the safety of your superior position.

But even despite all of that, your feelings were no illusion, and the way Baëkhyun acted towards you right now simply broke your heart into pieces, shattering them all over this cold, dark room with every step he made, pacing around you in circles like a hungry vulture over dead meat.

“Baëk…” you whimpered. “I’m so sorry…”

“That’s not the answer to my question, Miss [L/n].”

“Why won’t you use my first name… I told you you can…” Your body shivered at yet another memory that appeared in your head. 

“Ah, that’d be very unprofessional.” His voice echoed in a whisper right behind you. You could tell he was leaning down to speak to you, words seeping like a venom, his sweet voice deprived from mercy, ringing in your ears, so beautiful, yet so, so relentless.

“Please, stop tormenting me, I can’t stand this being you, Baëkhyun…”

You tried to turn your head towards him, but your neck hurt too much to move it freely; you thought that there was something wrong with your muscles, but it didn’t stay on your mind for too long, because the sound of shuffling quickly distracted your attention.

Something cold and thin touched your neck; it felt like a knife at first, but you quickly realized it was a syringe, pressed flat against your skin. Your heart skipped, but you forced yourself to stay still. Syringes never meant good, you learned. Upon experiencing them yourself, you found yourself regretting every single one you’d used on someone else.

“You’re very uncooperative today, Miss [L/n]. What should I do with you?”

You sobbed quietly.

“Ah, I know. You seem to be sad these days, isn’t it so?” 

The syringe disappeared and for a moment you panted heavily, right before you felt the man’s touch on yourself; it brought as much relief as it brought terror, when the man wrapped his arms around your neck from behind, hanging them loosely in front of you, with the syringe still present in one of them and documents – in the other. The gesture was so intimate, taken out of a completely different story, so nice and comforting; especially as Baëkhyun’s cheek brushed against yours when he leaned down, holding his head right next to yours. 

“But you don’t have a reason to worry, I’m here to take care of you after all, aren’t I? So, sweetheart.” His voice rung in your ear; he was so close you could hear even his breathing, and the quietest clickings of his tongue. “Don’t worry about anything. It won’t last forever, you know? And your sacrifice will bring better life to so many.” He mocked you, repeating your own words, you could tell. Yet, the closeness that he provided you, gave you the smallest sense of comfort; you turned your head to glance at his face, and he returned the glance. The proximity took your breath away. 

Baëkhyun smiled, softly, but still mockingly.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten all we went through” he whispered. You were sure that his voice wouldn’t be registered on the sensitive cameras placed in the room to film the interrogations that took place in it. It was husky, meant for your ears only. “But let me tell you. I’ll put you through hell, and through way worse things that you’ve seen being done to me or any other subjects. I’ll break your body, your soul, I’ll shatter you and put back together the way I want. And then, sweetheart, then, I’ll take you back. I’ll destroy this forsaken place and all the people who brought this misery upon all of us. We’re no different now, [F/n]. You’re just as cursed and hopeless as I’ve once been. So have a good taste of it, sweetheart. Have a good taste of this hell. Atone for your sins to be worth being saved later.”

Straightening up, the man held the documents in front of himself, re-reading them yet again, which you couldn’t really see, with your gaze fixated blankly on the floor between your knees.

“Now, next question. What is your opinion on sedatives used here? Do you remember the types we use, or should I refresh your memory in that matter? Your feedback will be very much appreciated.”

Since my tags aren’t working again, please, reblog if you enjoyed!

[coolksaposts]

Jude 1:18

how they told you that there would be mockers in the last time who would walk according to their own ungodly lusts.

A Call to Persevere 17But you, beloved, remember what was foretold by the apostles of our Lord Jesus Christ 18when they said to you, “In the last times there will be scoffers who will follow after their own ungodly desires.”  Jude 1:17-18

1 Timothy 4:1 Now the Spirit expressly states that in later times some will abandon the faith to follow deceitful spirits and the teachings of demons, 2 Timothy 3:1 But understand this: In the last days terrible times will come. 2 Timothy 4:3 For the time will come when men will not tolerate sound doctrine, but with itching ears they will gather around themselves teachers to suit their own desires. 2 Peter 2:10 Such punishment is specially reserved for those who indulge the corrupt desires of the flesh and despise authority. Bold and self-willed, these men are unafraid to slander angelic majesties. 2 Peter 3:3 Most importantly, you must understand that in the last days scoffers will come, scoffing and following their own evil desires.

[katcadecascade]

If you believe the lies I tell (Snowjanus fic: Chapter Three)

Ao3

Tumblr Chapter Index

Chapter Three: Competition

Word Count: 1,953

By the time he’s in class, Coriolanus’ number one priority is to ignore Sejanus Plinth. An easy task since he doesn’t cause a scene. Relatively is left alone unless someone pesters him. Today seems like a good day for both of them. 

Coriolanus barely glanced in Sejanus’ direction and Sejanus only had to deal with Vispania’s belittlement. He shut her up with a reminder of her recent blunder in their debate exam. 

Everything was back to normal. 

Coriolanus is formulating a plan on what to stash away from the dining hall, anything to join the muffin intended for Tigris. He has to make backup plans after backup plans if Clemensia ever interferes. This is all he can think about during their class before lunch hour. 

Their calculus lesson had to take a pause for their professor to receive documents from the ink and printer room. Urban Canville, top student of the subject, was asked to assist. 

“And there he goes, our calculus genius,” Gaius mourns like a nurse bidding a soldier farewell. 

Apollo taps a pencil on his textbook, “I swear there is a calculator in his head, it’s the only explanation.” 

“Or you’re bad at math,” Diana teased. 

“Hey, I scored higher than you last I checked.”

“Well, twins, you’re both beneath me,” Arachne butted in, believing she was always a part of the conversation.

“Okay, can we just all agree we hate math,” Domitia said.

“Minus Urban Canville,” Festus winked. “Get it? Minus?”

Only Persephone Price laughed. 

Gaius fake-yelled, “Boo! Get off the stage!”

“I’ll be here all week, folks!”

“Besides, I don’t think anyone is gonna out calculate Urban,” Florus said, tapping a pencil on Apollo’s head. 

Diana had to interfere before the boys started sword fighting with their stationary. 

“Really? That’s quite the statement.”

No one expected such a mocking tone from Sejanus. 

Coriolanus feels his eyes burning at the rich boy. He gives the attention no mind, soaking in the way their classmates stare curiously or irritatedly.  

“I’m surprised that none of you have tried hard enough to beat Urban’s score.”

“Excuse you,” Vipsania stands up and points at the mocker, “I am one of the top ranked students here.”

“That doesn’t sound like you’re actually the top student. We all know that’s Coriolanus.”

Eyes flicker to him and Coriolanus burns at the way Sejanus said his name. He’s using his name to further make their classmates inferior. 

It’s a brag, is his delayed thought. It’s equally a praise. 

Coriolanus still refuses to visibly acknowledge Sejanus, so he turns to Clemensia, “Do you have any idea what’s going on? It sounds like a mess.”

She tuts, as if she’s a disappointed mother, “They are a mess.” 

While that further infuriates most of their classmates, besides her, Lysistrata giggles at Clemensia. The girls exchange more laughter, like they’re sharing an inside joke. Coriolanus merely raises an eyebrow at her, surprised that Clemensia’s partaking in the biting comments. 

“They can still clean up their act.” 

Sejanus commands everyone’s attention back to him. 

It’s effortlessly done. 

Coriolanus wonders where Sejanus learned to say all the right words. To manipulate the crowd. It’s the opposite of what Coriolanus does. 

Coriolanus Snow charms the audience to keep everything in order. 

Sejanus Plinth riles up the audience for chaos.

“The upcoming calculus test.” He scans his audience, yet somehow skips over Coriolanus. Air is trapped in Coriolanus’ lungs. “Anyone who replaces Urban Canville’s number one spot gets a Plinth prize of my own.” That gets people to mutter about but once again, Sejanus shuts them up. “Not money, that’ll be real boring. I’m offering up a favor.” 

“What are you on about?” Arachne scoffed, “We don’t need anything from-“

“Shush!” Festus nearly throws his body on top of her desk, shoving a single finger against Arachne’s red lips. “Let the man bake!”

Persephone corrects, “Don’t you mean cook?”

“Yes!” 

His enthusiasm is uninterrupted when Felix strong-arms him off the desk. Festus straightens up and behind him, everyone ignores Arachne dramatically gagging into a napkin that Felix passed her. 

Festus explains, “He’s right, we don’t need his money but making Sejanus Plinth do whatever we want? Now that’s a real prize!”

Persephone winces, “You’re making it sound cruder than it would be, Festus.” 

He winks at her, “Only if you think that way.” 

Besides them, Arachne and Domitia shared appalled, mocking faces. 

“Actually, I'm with him on this. It would be interesting to see Sejanus hold his end of the bargain.” Felix Ravinstill approaches Sejanus Plinth, “Anything we ask?”

“Don't make him do anything illegal,” Persephone warns, proving that she really is the nicest girl in class. “That’ll be too far.”

“We’re not that chaotic, can’t let our families find out after all,” Their class president assures her with a smile, but to Sejanus it is anything but warm. “But, Sejanus, don’t think it’ll be anything simple.”

“I would hope not,” he smiles and reaches out a hand.

The most politically rich boy shakes hands with the richest outsider of all of the Capitol. 

A deal has been struck. 

“Sejanus, why are you doing this to Urban?” Gaius asked, so far the only one willing to defend Urban. 

“I’m not doing this to Urban, this is about all of you.” False gratitude has never sounded so much like a threat before. Sejanus has them all eating out of his palm. “Prove that you really are the best and brightest of the Capitol. Also why not have some fun with academic rivalry.”

“I hate calculus, but I admit I’m intrigued,” Apollo grins even though his twin elbows him roughly. 

“This is what finally gets you to take math seriously?”

“Hey, I’d love to win something. After all, it’s gonna be Coriolanus who wins the actual Plinth Prize.”

A few heads turn to the leading candidate for the scholarship money. 

He only has mere seconds to decide what mask he has to wear. Anything to maintain the image of the perfect Snow. 

“Do you really think that Apollo?” Coriolanus performs with a million dollar smile, “Well, one more test to ace isn’t a real problem for me.”

Now that raises everyone’s ego. The chance to take something away from the untouchable Coriolanus Snow. 

He sees in the way Arachne whispers to Felix. As Florus and Apollo immediately plan a study session that Diana of course invites herself in. Coriolanus despises them a little bit more. They just had to prove his thoughts right. 

Everyone in this school feeds off of others’ failures. 

Urban Canville, the challenge, no - the obstacle, arrives and the tension in the room shifts. 

“Why’s everyone staring at me?” 

“We’re just talking about calculus, buddy,” Festus is instantly at his side, very touchy-feely, roping an arm around Urban’s neck, “and how you’re so good at it.” 

Behind Urban’s back, Festus glares at everyone to not snitch. It's mostly aimed at Gaius who does concede. Class resumes without a hitch. 

Coriolanus has to wait until everyone leaves before confronting the most annoying person in his life. Clemensia needed to be placated with a promise of not taking too long, that he’ll catch up later. 

When it’s just them, there’s no more performances. 

“What the hell was all of that?”

Sejanus squirms in his chair, finally acting like his usual, uncomfortable self. 

Seeing this just makes Coriolanus angrier. 

If this guy can behave two-faced so easily, manipulate their classmates, how is Coriolanus’ own mask believable?

He has the urge to pace around, think of better ways to lie, to analyze how exactly their classmates were suckered in by Sejanus. As suspicious as his actions were, they only focused on their own world. 

Pride on the verge of narcissism. 

It was too well played out but it was enough to pique their interest. Coriolanus would be impressed if not for his irritation over Sejanus. Specifically about how he knows Sejanus better than anyone else. 

And right now, Sejanus knows him better than anyone Coriolanus has allowed. 

He stays rooted in front of Sejanus, needing to figure out what’s exactly in his head. 

The alpha bites his lip, for once considering his words. If only he was always like this. 

“Sejanus,” the name is harsh on his tongue, “tell me, now.”

The command should make him feel powerful, from just the way the alpha gazes up at the omega. But those brown eyes full of pity sends poison down his veins. 

It almost makes Coriolanus squirm, targeted under the weight of Sejanus’ undivided attention. 

“It was the only way I could think of to-”

“To give me food?” His pride takes over, already regretting this conversation. “You’re telling me that you proposed some idiotic bet for all your enemies on the chance that I would accept your generosity?”

He expects Sejanus to lie to him. Or say something absurd like he’s doing this out of the kindness of his heart. That he’s a good alpha providing gifts to a good omega. How Sejanus’ sense of judgment and righteousness demands to treat Coriolanus like this. 

That’s a terrifying relationship. Coriolanus refuses to be an object that sits pretty for every compliment, to receive a feast for doing absolutely nothing. 

“Yes, I did.” Something just clicks behind those brown eyes and Sejanus’ expression hardens. “You said it yourself, you’re not spoiled. Coriolanus, you’re hard working and twice as stubborn than everyone else.” He stands up, preparing to leave with his bag slung over his shoulder. “You don’t have to win this competition though, that’s up to you.”

He sees it and he hates it. 

Sejanus is trying to rile him up, trap him into admitting that he has something that Coriolanus Snow needs. 

As if. 

“I don’t want handouts.”

“This isn’t a handout. This is a choice.”

He is right. Coriolanus could choose to not partake in zealous efforts of reaching the top. 

But it is not in his nature to lie down and let his competitors gain what he deserves. 

Coriolanus deflects, “So you made a spectacle? That doesn’t sound like you, Sejanus.”

“I’m just speaking your language.” At Coriolanus’ scoff, a reflex to mask his confusion, Sejanus steps closer. He lays a hand on Coriolanus’ arm. “I know you can beat everyone in this class. Do what you do best, Coriolanus Snow. Be at the top.”

An exhilarating thrill buzzes throughout Coriolanus Snow. 

He does not need Sejanus Plinth’s permission. 

It’s natural for the sun to shine brighter than the stars.

For the ocean to knock down sandcastles. 

For snow to land on top. 

The real Plinth Prize waits at graduation day.

But today?

His classmates saw a chance, no matter how small, to best him. It’s maddening to have a target on his back but at the same time, Coriolanus welcomes them to try. Eager to see them all fall. Graduation and university is too far away. After seeing their glimmer of hope, he craves their defeat now. 

This is more than a predator nature of dynamics or survival instincts born from starvation. This is what Coriolanus truly greeds for. To actually feel like the top of a mountain peak. 

Anyone else would tear at him with teeth and claws, exposing this bloody animal he locks under a perfect mask. Yet with Sejanus it’s a scalpel, a clean cut. 

In an impossible way, Coriolanus feels seen. Layers of flesh exposed and undone, revealing a hungry creature, a void that will devour. 

Beyond status or wealth, Coriolanus Snow can and will dominate any who opposes him. 

It’s a taste of something better than any food served on a silver platter. 

All provided by one Sejanus Plinth. 

He gives Sejanus one last glare before storming out of the room.

-

Thanks for reading!

[timhatchlive]

The Seat of Scoffers

No matter what you do, no matter how careful you are, no matter how much you seek to honor the Lord, some people will just not like you. Such is the case for Elisha, fresh off the healing of the Waters of Jericho he comes to Bethel. He is retracing the steps he took with Elijah before the ascension. What was wonderful ministry and impact in one city becomes a place of disparagement in the next. That is how it can be at times: 2 Kings 2:23–25 (ESV) He went up from there to Bethel, and while he was going up on the way, some small boys came out of the city and jeered at him, saying, “Go up, you baldhead! Go up, you baldhead!” 

What you have here is a group of worthless sons who see no value in the prophet or those older than they. They pick out his appearance and vent their disrespect. Scripture identifies them as scoffers. Psalm 1:1 (ESV) Blessed is the man who walks not in the counsel of the wicked, nor stands in the way of sinners, nor sits in the seat of scoffers; Our world is filled with scoffers. Men and women who entertain by ridiculing others who disagree with them or come from a different side of American life. The sad reality is how often our country eats up this content without thinking about the ramifications of society regularly devaluing humanity and the image of God. I'm all for comedy and laughter. I feel the best humor is usually self-deprecating. People can relate to it and it brings you down so that others are not warded off by a haughty spirit in you. But when we mock and ridicule others we only set ourselves on high and glorify our own opinions over the value of others. Let us look at Elisha's response:

2 Kings 2:24 (ESV) And he turned around, and when he saw them, he cursed them in the name of the LORD. And two she-bears came out of the woods and tore forty-two of the boys. 25 From there he went on to Mount Carmel, and from there he returned to Samaria.

Here we have a picture of a proper response to those who disrespect God's word with blatant scoffing. Elisha unfurls a curse "in the name of the Lord." He doesn't simply curse them and what this entails we do not know but we know it was a curse that Elisha felt comfortable with doing "in the name of the Lord." After the curse, the Lord brings judgment as bears maul the boys. God has his vengeance stored up for those who disrespect His servants and mock His word. You may not like the image we have here but let us remember the ultimate story to which this story points: The religious leaders and Pharisees belittled Christ. Then the soldiers mocked and ridiculed Him as he went to the cross. He bore the shame of mockers and died for us. 1 Peter 2:23–24 (ESV) When he was reviled, he did not revile in return; when he suffered, he did not threaten, but continued entrusting himself to him who judges justly. 24 He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness. By his wounds you have been healed.

Right now the world uses the name of Jesus in mocking fashion. I saw a Netflix show where a character had no problem calling Jesus a curse word while a little boy laughed. Cheap humor that disrespects the Lord Jesus Christ can anger us but we do not have to worry. The Lord will come and enact vengeance on all His enemies. We are reminded in this passage that our chief concern is to let the Lord take care of His enemies, we must carry on in ministry. 

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[coffeeman777]

You’ve gotten a lot of end of the world questions lately! I’m going to ask one also: a lot of Christians say to predictions “people have been saying that for X amount of years and nothing has happened yet”. Is that scoffing and mocking?

No, not in the context of 1 Peter where that "scoffers and mockers" thing comes from. That's more of a depiction of unbelievers who laugh at Christians for believing that Jesus will return at all.

[sl7mme]

FINAL REALITIES OF THE LAST DAYS ALBUM.mp4 from shininglight7ministries.com on Vimeo.

2 Pe 3:3-4

3 To begin with, you must know and understand this, that scoffers (mockers) will come in the last days with scoffing, [people who] walk after their own fleshly desires

4 And say, Where is the promise of His coming? For since the forefathers fell asleep, all things have continued exactly as they did from the beginning of creation. AMP

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